Chapter 11: Kurth
Two soldiers dragged Bale’s body out of the room. A moment ago he was the most sought after insurgent in Nucrea. He had spent years hiding his identity, working through the Nucrean Guards’ system, until he was added to the armory’s security detail. Finally, the insurgents would be able to obtain enough firepower to take back their city, but someone betrayed him, betrayed everyone.
The insurgent group, called the Catalyst, had quickly gained momentum over the last five years in response to the emerging class system. The main population was kept impoverished, while a small, selective group seemed to be living without limitations, and people knew enough about the past to fear what that meant for their future.
Bale had joined the Guard to gather information about this privileged group, and gain access to the Council, but in the process, he uncovered plans to enslave the city through neural implants.
Bale had become close friends with a soldier who helped detain the wife and daughter of a brilliant man. This soldier explained to Bale that this man, who understood the old sciences, was being forced to help the Council control the people neurologically. Everyone would get an implant, soldiers included, that would govern everything they thought and did. He explained that the implants would be given as an enhancement, with the promise of a better life and resistance to the effects of living in the Fringe, but it was all a lie.
“I want the soldier that knew him questioned and taken care of,” Kurth said to one of the Elites, who had a thick, black beard and even thicker body.
“Sir,” the soldier said as he turned and left.
Two teenage boys, dressed in gray, frantically cleaned the blood. One of them struggled to fight the urge to throw up, which seemed to weaken the other boy’s resolve to remain composed as well. The fear of losing their control in front of the city’s military leader was the only thing holding back the vomit.
Yeong and Kurth, unaffected by the gruesome scene and indifferent to the boys, scoured over various displays on the holo-desk. One feed gave an overhead view of the raid, showing Kurth and his Elites overtaking the rebels at the armory; another feed had recorded Kurth chasing down Bale.
The boys finished cleaning, bowed, and left with their bloody buckets and linen bags.
Yeong took a cloth from his back pocket, wiped the blood and gunpowder from his pistol, and holstered it.
“Thank you for quickly putting an end to this. The Council will be pleased,” Yeong said.
“He was a soldier,” Kurth said, more to himself than to his father.
“He was a traitor,” Yeong shot back.
“That’s not what I meant, father. He had been in the Guard for years. I remember his promotion. I’m worried that if he was able to hide among us, that there might be others. Had our informant not warned us, we would have lost everything in that armory.”
“Regardless, you acted and I am proud of you.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“It does, however, seem necessary that we watch our own more closely. This city has become ungrateful. They have wasted their freedom.” Yeong swiped a hand over the desk, closing the feeds, and looked at Kurth. “All of that will soon change.”
Kurth closed the door and came close to Yeong. “Should we expect the Market Barons to move on us after the Council is gone?”
“They all work independently from one another. They would most likely fight among themselves until there was only one left, but they are of no concern. An old friend is willing to remedy that problem for us, if it arises.”
Yeong turned and gave Kurth a father’s hug.
“Soon,” Yeong said softly.