Spark of the Rebellion Chapter 8: life's purpose

When the rubble was cleared, Emily’s body lay before them, barely recognizable beneath layers of soot and blood. Jim found it hard to reconcile her gruesome death with the image of someone he had considered an honorable enemy—perhaps even a good one. Her fate was nothing more than a casualty of Adrian’s relentless war, collateral damage in a battle waged on a fanatical principle.

“She didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the flickering flames licking at the ruins. The heat shimmered around her still form, distorting the air as if the world itself refused to accept the reality of her death. “She didn’t deserve any of it.”

An inkling of empathy stirred within him but was quickly suppressed. After all, he was dealing with a man who had orchestrated mass murder, who had built horrific biological weapons and conducted neural warfare without remorse. A man who had lost his wife yet stood before them eerily composed.

Soldiers like Adrian were no strangers to loss, yet his eyes had changed. They were no longer just cold—they were dead. For the first time, Jim feared that Adrian had crossed the threshold into unpredictability, his humanity now a mere afterthought.

Even if his lie had logically ensured his safety, two grieving individuals who both have a bone to pick with him were not in the mood to be logical. But he hadn’t obtained what he came for: the truth. 

For him, the funeral dragged on for what seemed like hours of Adrian and Helena simply staring at a burning flame. The body was already ashes. But loss was loss even if it afflicted a tyrant. So he kept his mouth shut and his expression blank, retreating a few steps back until the warmth of the flame no longer tickled him.

Pulling up his link, he jotted down what he had learned so far. 

Crimson Pulse was a corrupted document that when verbally recited in the presence of Adrian set off a protocol to kill him and anyone in his surroundings. This was probably done to eliminate the person who had discovered this protocol as well as linked it to Adrian.

Helena's willingness to help him also seemed suspicious. They were never on good terms but she seemed very eager to take him directly to Adrian and Emily. The only thing she did not count on was Jim triggering Adrian's failsafe, nearly killing everyone on the rock.

The final piece of information, though unrelated, seemed to surface quite conveniently. Food and water quality. Poisoning and contamination suddenly became a problem just about a week after Adrian's appearance. It could be sheer coincidence or a very subtle sabotage.

All this still did not answer Jim's question. What happened on the night of the Congo Massacre?

To him, truth and falsehood were not absolute. Rather they lay on a spectrum of information. The truth was the middle. Neutral and balanced, often simple. Jim suspected deception only when there was either too much information or too little. 

The truth everyone believed was that SEKT was a rebellious, radical force in the war that caused the Congo Massacre. A treaty between Earth and the Belt ought to be signed that night until a bioweapon incident disrupted the proceedings and killed off all the Earthen Council members. 

Seemed quite believable as a horrific accident until Jim realised that the only survivor of the Earthen Council coincidentally happened to be the worst of them. Duncan. A man who would rise to presidency and use his leverage to drive South Africa to the superpower it was.

Duncan was hailed as South Africa's saviour but few questioned how he actually saved a war-trodden country and brought it up to the centre of wealth and power. What blood sacrifice did he have to make at the political alter to flip a country on its head in the span of what? Five years?

All of this was a little...brief for a war-ending event, wasn't it? 

As Jim finished his notes, he exhaled sharply. The glow of his link flickered off his face, casting faint shadows that danced against the rubble. He shut it off and took one last look at the burning embers.

The flames crackled, the only sound filling the uneasy silence between them. The heat was suffocating, but Jim wasn’t sure if it was from the fire or the tension hanging between them all.

Helena turned to him, her voice quiet. “What now? We’ve killed the Royal Guard,” she said, glancing toward the smouldering wreckage. “They’ll be after us.”

Adrian exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face as he watched the last embers of the fire die out. “Arthur isn’t behind this.”

Jim frowned, arms crossed over his chest. “What do you mean Arthur isn’t behind this? It’s the Royal Guard, right?”

Adrian shook his head. “Arthur kept me alive. You accidentally triggered Crimson Pulse. Supposedly, this sent a beacon to someone who alerted the Royal Guard. It could’ve been Arthur…”

He turned toward Jim, his lone eye glowing. “Or Duncan.”

Jim took an involuntary step back, hands raised. “Hey, hey, hey… I saved your ass here. And Duncan is hundreds of thousands of miles from here.”

Adrian didn’t blink. “Was the trigger really an accident? You said Duncan knows about me, so whatever information you received that led you to me must have been leaked to him. Did you signal for the Royal Guard to come here?”

A subtle chill slithered down Jim’s spine, like a knife tracing his nerve pathways. He winced. “No, I didn’t. Frankly, I needed you alive and wanted to reach you before Duncan did.”

Adrian stepped forward. “Try harder.”

Jim clenched his jaw, his muscles starting to stiffen. “Duncan knew you were alive, which meant he also knew your location. I didn’t. I needed Helena to bring me here. Whatever information you’re talking about, Duncan didn’t get it from me.”

Any more of this and his attempt at covering up his little lie would become more and more apparent.  

“Adrian, stop!” Helena interjected, shoving her way between them. “He’s telling the truth!”

“Stay out of this!” Adrian barked, eyes flashing. “The whole reason she’s dead is because you brought this two-faced spy here!”

“He tried to save Emily’s life!” Helena shot back. “He went back into that gas-filled pile of rubble to fetch her and nearly passed out! If there's anyone to blame, it's you!”

Adrian’s grip loosened, and Jim collapsed forward, clutching his knees as the pain subsided. He exhaled sharply, dragging in uneven breaths.

“Fuck you,” Jim whispered.

Adrian stiffened, turning to Helena. “What did you say to me?”

Helena stepped closer, fists clenched. “You! You killed her!” Her voice cracked. “You abandoned her for your ‘mission,’ which only led to your exile. She chose to stay with you! She isolated herself from everyone she knew for you!”

Adrian’s lone eye pulsed, energy surging beneath his skin.

“Do it!” Helena taunted. “If that’s how you deal with people who call out your manipulative bullshit!”

They stood at an impasse, neither willing to break the deadlock, until Adrian finally backed away, his eye dimming. “You’re right… Perhaps I am responsible.” He exhaled, his tone colder than before. “But don’t pretend you had nothing to do with this either.”

Helena narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Adrian pointed at Jim. “That man was not meant to be here.”

Helena hesitated. “I brought him to you because he knew about you. I had to close the loop. I can’t just kill a guy in a residential area outside my doorstep.”

“So you bring him to an abandoned rock nobody would think to look.” Jim chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “You were hoping he'd drop me on the spot, right?”

Helena didn’t answer.

Jim smirked, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. "But then you realised that killing me at Adrian's precise location would get you into shit with not just Arthur but Duncan too."

It seemed his lie was far more useful than he thought. For the moment at least.

“Probably why you fished me out of that gas cloud, right?” Jim said, nodding at Helena. “Or was that just you and I settling scores?”

“Bit of both,” Helena replied, flashing Jim a smile that was so fake it could run for office. “And you? You seem to fumble every opportunity you have to kill me. You could’ve left me for dead under that pillar. You’d have one less problem to deal with later on, right?”

Good question. Why did he save her? He wanted to save Emily for the information she might possess, but he had no reason to pull Helena from under that block of concrete. In all their years of opposition, near-death encounters, and military skirmishes, he had ample opportunity to kill her but simply… hadn’t.

He shrugged, dismissing the long pause between them. “Who does the cat chase once he finally catches his mouse?”

Adrian rubbed his temple, exhaustion seeping into his voice. “Enough. We need information.”

Jim reached into his pocket, pulling out his link. “Then let’s trade. I have a copy of the Crimson Pulse document from Intel Archives. Quite possibly the only copy in existence.” He tossed it to Adrian.

Adrian scanned the names. “Al, Winter, Cob, Meg… They’re all here.”

“So they’re alive too?” Jim asked, eyes narrowing.

Adrian hesitated, then looked to Helena. 

"Ay, now it's your turn to talk," Jim said with open arms. "The floor's yours."

“Normal citizens. Normal houses,” Adrian said. 

Jim blinked. “You’re fucking with me…”

“What, did you think they were stuck on another rock like me?”

Jim gestured to the barren landscape surrounding them. “Well… yeah? I mean, this one has a cloak over it that makes it look deserted to everyone else. I bet those do too, right?”

“Firstly, the rocks you’re referring to don’t have cloakers. They’re genuinely deserted. The only ones cloaked are this one and three on the Northern Outskirts on the other side of Iassor. Secondly, you forget that the general public doesn’t know the faces of SEKT members. It’s why Arthur could afford to pull three thousand commoners off the street and execute them in public to give the impression that SEKT was dead.”

Jim’s jaw dropped. “Three thousand?!”

“You act as if you haven’t seen bigger numbers,” Helena replied, nursing her arm.

“Yeah… but that was covert,” Jim said. “Under wraps. Out of the public eye. Three thousand executions on the same channel that apologises for swearing on air?”

“It was a live broadcast,” Helena clarified. “Sort of…Not on air.”

“Sort of?”

She rolled her eyes. “They made it seem coincidental. Influencers around the Belt just happened to be at the execution grounds when it occurred and filmed it through a gap in a fence or from a bush or some other obscure angle that made it seem like they shouldn't be there.” She scrunched her nose in contempt. "Probably got paid the cheque of their lives for that."

“And I assume those videos still circulate the net uncensored, but evidence of Adrian’s survival does not?”

Helena pointed at Jim. “Bingo.”

So why go through the trouble of keeping SEKT around? A militant rebel force dispersed in the shadows was hardly a threat Arthur would allow to run loose unless there was a significant benefit to doing so. He’d be risking a shit ton of international relations.

“Earth blamed SEKT for the Congo Massacre,” Adrian explained. “As an offering of peace and a denouncement of his involvement, Arthur agreed to personally execute us. Except he didn’t.”

“Why?” Jim asked.

“I don’t know,” Adrian replied.

“Nobody does except Arthur knows,” Helena added. “And until we find out why the hell we’re alive, we’ll forever be indebted to Arthur with no way to repay it.”

Jim scratched his chin in thought. Three thousand SEKT operatives—no, super-soldiers—just… living… waiting. Clearly, there was a reason Arthur needed to keep SEKT alive. 

“How exactly were you enhanced? With a serum of sorts?” Jim inquired.

Helena shook her head. “Genetic splicing. We were bred. Born with our enhancements.”

So replicating their enhancements on short notice would be much harder. It would take at least a generation. Jim viewed Arthur as a prudent planner. He wouldn’t take this risk unless he predicted SEKT might be of use sooner rather than later. Perhaps their ability to interface with Secronium provided a military advantage?

“If militancy is what you’re thinking, then you’re heading down the wrong path,” Adrian said, somehow reading Jim’s thoughts.

“Economic?” Jim suggested. 

“How so?”

Jim smirked, realizing he might have stumbled upon the best plan he’d ever seen. “You mentioned the Northern Outskirts having cloakers.”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“There are Secronium mines there,” Helena explained. “They’re isolated from the city to contain the radiation.”

“Yeah, but why are they cloaked? There are Secronium mine sites here too, and they’ve been levelled to the ground.”

Helena crossed her arms. “Are you implying the mines on the Northern Outskirts are operational?”

“Not currently, no,” Jim replied, raising a finger. “However, it’s entirely possible they are in working condition. Why else would you spend money every month to hide it?”

“Where are you going with this?” Adrian asked.

“Don’t you find it slightly too coincidental that Arthur secretly saved the only individuals on Earth who can safely and reliably mine radioactive Secronium because of their genetic resistance to it?” Jim asked. 

"Are you saying that in Arthur kept us alive just to use us as miners?" Helena said, almost offended.

"Maybe," Jim said. "It's not like Secronium is exclusive to Iassor. It's quite prominent all over the Belt. Even so, couldn't you just send a bunch of regular drill bots down there? Automate the entire thing? You'd certainly avoid this shit."

"What makes him think we’d comply?" Adrian asked.

"I don't think he'll give you a choice, mate," Jim replied. "I don't think he's letting you, Helena or any SEKT agent for that matter loose in the city. He probably has you on a leash you don't even know you're wearing."

Adrian glanced over the document one more time before handing the link back to Jim. "We need to ensure that Intel or Arthur does not have a copy of this Crimson Pulse document. The fact that Arthur has us all tracked gives him leverage.”

Helena folded her arms and huffed. "Those archives are so loaded with firewalls, I doubt you can even get through it, Adrian." She pciked up a piece of broken electronics from the debris and flicked it to the ground. "We don't even have a device to access it. We don't even know if they keep their original docs in the Archives. Those might just be copies."

Wait... Copies? If the 'corrupted document' that Jim retrieved was merely a copy that meant that the original could hold even more information than what they currently have. If he were to make his own copy directly off the original, he'd likely retrieve the entire document.

Jim didn't want to risk sharing information with his temporary allies without first analysing it himself. But something told him that the retrieval of this document would certainly entail the exchange of bullets and a few flesh wounds. As a spy, he was...okay at best with a gun. No, in fact he was just a guy with a gun who acted like he knew how to use it.

Adrian smirked. "I'm not talking about remote access."

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Jim said raising his hands in dispute. “There’s no way I’m raiding Intel’s data centre!”

“You want to get to the bottom of this, yeah?”

Jim swayed his head from side-to-side like a scale weighing its options. “Depends. What’s the payout?”

“A conversation between me, you and Arthur so we can finally get our stories straight.”

With a heavy sigh and a flutter of fear in his heart Jim began energising his knife. The edge began to pulse blue. He only had a few hours left before it reverted to a stock-standard hunting knife. He was down to the last two energy capsules on his gun. 

Then he strapped on a damaged kevlar vest from one of the Elite Guard soldiers. It would at most protect him from one of two shots. He drew his cloak over him to conceal his weapons.

"Alright, Boss," Jim said light-heartedly, suppressing the little tremor in his voice. "This better be worth it."