The Midnight Stand (The Elysia Saga Book 1) (6 page)

Brrrinnnnnggggg. Brrrrinnnngggggg.       

The muffled sound of ringing came from upstairs.
Harley was in the basement with his head buried in a wood box when the phone
rang. He knew it was Sara calling to check up on him. Maybe she felt something
was up when he rushed her out of the house.

The ringing stopped after what seemed like eight
or ten rings. She would probably think he was in the bathroom. It would buy him
some time, but not a lot. She will call again and he’ll have to pick up or it
will really set off her nervous alarm.

There had been some tension between them for the
past few months. Jasper was getting to the age when he would be placed in the
School of Human Growth and Learning, a place Harley didn’t want him to be a
part of. Instead, Harley insisted on having Jasper home schooled. He wanted to
teach Jasper how to take care of himself and survive on his own. He wanted to
teach his son a trade such as carpentry or mechanics, like Ancil did for him. Sara
fought him on the idea arguing it would hinder his development and socially
stunt him by not being around other children. He would never find a place if he
wasn’t accepted by others at an early age.

They couldn’t resolve the issue and Jasper ended
up missing the first year of classes. Sara didn’t speak to Harley for weeks
after that. He apologized and promised to get him in for the next year, but
this was just something he said to calm her down. He didn’t have any intention of
putting Jasper in classes.

Harley picked up the box and felt his lower back
strain from the weight of it. The box must have been fifty pounds at least. It
was filled with all types of discarded metal and scraps that he found through
the years, along with more useful items like chargers and detonators.

He carried the box up the stairs and dropped it
the kitchen floor, breathing heavy. Harley could feel his heart pounding in his
chest at a jack hammer pace. He had started to feel more and more out of breath
and anxious since he got the final letter in the mail, almost like a man on death
row who knew his final date was approaching. There were days when he woke up in
a sweat with his heart racing and what felt like an iron knot in his stomach.
Some days the feeling was so bad he would have to take a tranquilizer just to
make it through the day. The last few days, however, Harley found himself
having to take two or three.   

He quickly checked the phone ID and sure enough
it was from Dana’s house. He could only imagine what the two of them were
talking about. Dana no doubt was badmouthing him and telling Sara how she had
ruined her life by marrying him.

He always despised his wife’s sister, a Stepford
Wife if he ever saw one. She embodied everything he hated about the Project.
She was vain, superficial and more interested in a new addition to her house
than raising her only child, a duty which she has fully given over to the Council.
Her husband was no better. A sycophant and a schemer were the kindest ways that
Harley could describe him. He had no use for either of them, but he needed to
get Sara and Jasper out of the house somehow and Dana was the easiest and most
logical option.

Sara questioned why he wanted her to visit Dana
tonight in the first place. She knew how he felt about her and any reason had
to be a believable one. Harley played it off that he felt bad that Sara
couldn’t see her sister more often and that Jasper never had the chance to see
his cousin. Once Jasper heard that he would be seeing Lucas he pleaded with
Sara for them to go. Even despite any reservations Sara had, she couldn’t say
no to Jasper.

He packed them into his truck, one of the last models
still to not have GPS auto drive, and drove them to Dana’s. When he said good
bye to them Sara kissed him. It was a soft kiss on the lips. She held his face
in both her hands and looked directly in his eyes, trying to search for
something. She asked if anything was wrong. He assured her there wasn’t but he
could tell from her expression that she didn’t believe him. That was three
hours ago.

He dragged the box into the living room and
dumped it onto the floor. He then grabbed a wooden crate that was next to the
couch and pulled that over. The crate had no cover on it and anyone who knew
what they were looking at could plainly see the C4 explosives lined up inside.
He had enough to blow up the entire block if he wanted to.

Harley did think about doing that, taking out
all the new AutoHomes in a five mile radius. He even drew up plans on how it
could be done and delineated areas to place the explosive, but he thought of
all those unknowing families that would die for no fault of their own other
than participating in a system that destroyed their free will. On the other
hand they freely chose to be a part of it. They held up their hands and
surrendered their freedom at the feet of the Council. Besides, Harley had so
much explosive that the blast would be so destructive they wouldn’t even know
they were blown up. He shook these thoughts out of his head and tried to
concentrate. All too often he found himself thinking these ideas and hours
would pass as he pondered different scenarios. In the end it all led to
precious time wasting.

The C4 was tightly packed lengthwise side by
side in rows of five by four. Harley took one block in his hand and felt the
weight of it. He remembered the first time he used C4. He was a teenager and one
of his friends stole a block from the warehouse that stored the explosive for
the burgeoning resistance movement. They cut off a tiny piece and wired it
under a large boulder in the woods. When they set off the charge the C4
exploded in a loud boom and left a hole the size of a bowling ball in the side
of the boulder.

It was his first lesson in explosives: if you
think you have too little, it ends up being more than you need.

He took out four blocks and lined them up on the
floor. He figured that should be enough to serve his purpose. He then rummaged
through the box and took out four blasting caps and detonators along with a
spool of copper wire.

The sight of all that in his living room turned
his stomach and the realization of what he was going to do began to dawn on
him. His legs became weak and he had to stagger to sit down before he
collapsed. A panic attack suddenly overtook him. He clutched the armrest of the
couch and tried to control his breathing, but it was no use.  

What was he doing? Was this really what he
intended to do? Was this why he wanted to get his wife and son out of the
house, so he could become some kind of political martyr?

The implications of the plan were never factored
into Harley’s thinking and what it would mean for Sara and Jasper. If he went
through with it, Jasper would almost certainly grow up without a father. Even
if Harley was able to survive the night, he’d be locked up in the Cube so deep
no one would ever see him again. It was as good as being dead.

The effect on Sara would be worse. How would she
cope having to raise Jasper on her own? The Council wasn’t generally accepting
of single mothers. They preferred parity in the household as they felt it
provided for a better upbringing. Unless the mother could show that she was
capable of raising the child on her own, the Council will step in and place the
child in the special foster district. Exceptions were sometimes made for
widows, but Harley believed that no special treatment would be made for Sara
seeing how her husband would be branded a political terrorist.

Harley ran to the bathroom and splashed water on
his face. The cold water felt refreshing against his skin as he held his head
under the faucet. He shut the water and held on to the sides of the white porcelain
basin, taking long deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves and slow his heart
rate.

He lifted his head and looked at himself in the
mirror. For a brief moment he saw the face of his grandfather looking back at
him. He shared his grandfather’s jawline and steel blue eyes. Harley remembered
how his grandfather looked the last time he saw him, lying on the living room
floor, his eyes looking up at him as he spoke. It was the last thing he ever
said.

The memory of that day brought Harley back to
ground and a wave of anger entered him. He remembered why this was important
and why he had to go through with it, but could he?

His continued to stare at himself in the mirror,
his mind racing with thoughts when the clock chimed the half hour mark. It was
10:30 and time was running out. He knew he had to make a choice: honor his
grandfather or save his own life.

He was alone in this with no one to turn to for
guidance. His only company being the
tick-tock
of the clock’s second hand
as it inched closer to his fate.

“Where’s my son!” Daniel Trager hollered as he stomped
through the doors of the precinct. Ancil saw him from where he was sitting in
his cell. Daniel was coming down the hall almost in a run before he was stopped
by a police officer.

The officer wanted to know who he was and what
he wanted. Ancil could hear Daniel explain that he received a call from the
police about what happened to his son and father-in-law. The officer had his
hand up, trying to calm Daniel down. He brought him over to the main desk to
explain the situation.

Ancil sat in the cell along with everyone else
from the meeting with the exception of Harley who, due to his age, was not
taken into custody. He was waiting in Sheriff Bailey’s office, eating a
chocolate chip ice cream sandwich. Ancil had been worried something might have
happened to him, but to the policemen’s credit, they took good care of him as
he waited for his father, and to Harley’s credit, he wasn’t scared at all.

Someone called in their meeting to the county
sheriff. Ancil didn’t know who it was for sure, but he had an idea. He had been
trying for months to spread the word at his parish. He pulled a few people
aside and spoke with them in private, two of whom were Earl and Allen.

Not everyone shared his opinion though. One
parishioner, David Kendrick, got right up in Ancil’s face and accused him of
being a Godless anarchist and rabble rouser. David was a local board member who
helped push Proposition 18 through the county legislature. Prop 18 called for
the expansion to the eminent domain law allowing corporations or private
organizations to claim a piece of land if they could prove it was of public
interest and for the good of the community. Kendrick was its main proponent.

David Kendrick was also a paid spokesman for the
biotech firm CyberTronix. The firm was the largest developer of artificial
intelligent robotics in the country and had large government contracts. It was
rumored that one of the contracts they held was from the Pentagon for the
development of a cellular chemical nano-bot virus that could be programed to
only attack a certain population at any given time. It would revolutionize
strategic attacks by the military. Specific sections of a population or area can
now be targeted, even down to a square foot. Wars could be fought without even
having to put troops on the ground.

Ancil had his run-ins with Kendrick in the past
and was no stranger to the inside of a holding cell either. He’d been arrested
while protesting outside of CyberTronix on numerous occasions. The protests
were over the closure of the metal works plant. CyberTronix had bought it out,
fired the workers, and made all the manufacturing automated. Ancil knew seven
of the men who were fired. They tried to take it up with the courts and block
the move by putting an injunction on CyberTronix, but the case went nowhere.
The judge threw it out without even hearing the arguments.

With all the history between the two, Ancil
didn’t put it past Kendrick to make a call to his good friend Sheriff Bailey
and have the meeting ransacked. Kendrick was good at calling in favors,
especially when the firm he represented paid for most of them.

Ancil looked up and saw the officer approach the
cell. He had a set of keys in his hand and a hard look on his face. He was a
tall man, about 6’4’’, and had a crop top and handlebar mustache. He looked
like he came from a long line of officers. Most were born into it. It was their
legacy, something they had little choice in. The only thing that made them cops
was who their father was.

The officer, whose name tag said Anderson, unlocked
the cell and opened it. “Jacobs, you’re free to go,” he said.

“What about them?” Ancil asked, gesturing to Lee
and the others. They all were huddled together in the corner of the cell. Lee
and Ruth weren’t new to this, they had been with Ancil during the protests, but
Earl, Theresa, Allen, and Charlotte were all experiencing the inside of a jail
for the first time and they weren’t taking it well. Theresa hadn’t stopped
crying from the moment the cops took them in. She was being held by Ruth, who
was trying to comfort her by saying it was all going to be okay. The sight of
Theresa sobbing in the corner didn’t fill Ancil with much hope that these
people would be able to stand their ground when called upon. They just weren’t
built for it.

Anderson gave the others a sideways glance. “We
can’t release them yet.”

“I’m not leaving without them,” Ancil said.

“Look, I don’t care whether you stay or go,”
Anderson said, “but your bail was paid by your son-in-law so as far as we’re
concerned you can leave.”

“We came here together, we’ll leave together,”
Ancil insisted.  

The officer’s expression said he could care
less. “Suit yourself.” He began to close the bars.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Daniel called from
behind the officer. He was dressed in his all white work clothes, having come
directly from the aluminum plant in which he was a supervisor. The plant was
another subsidiary of CyberTronix. They specialized in home wares and everyday
appliances. Daniel held a high rank within the plant and would always come home
in the evenings and discuss the new innovations his division was overseeing,
even bringing home the prototypes to test out. One of the perks of the job he
said. “I thought you were letting him go?”

The office turned to Daniel. “He doesn’t want to
leave.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “And you listen? Open
that up and get him out.”

“I’m not leaving this cell, Daniel,” Ancil said
as he sat back down on the metal bench that lined the side of the holding cell.

“Ancil, I don’t want to play games today,”
Daniel leveled at him. “I get a call at work that my father-in-law and nine
year old son have been arrested. Then I have to explain why I’m leaving early.
I’m really not in the mood.”

Ancil regarded Daniel with a steely look. “We
came here together, we leave here together.”

Daniel’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red.
Officer Anderson simply stood there dangling his keys in his hand. “Harley is
in there crying, terrified to death over what you did.”

“The boy is stronger than you think and twice as
smart,” Ancil said. “I doubt he’s as distressed as you say he is.” This brought
another flush of color to Daniel’s face.

“Fine, you know what? Stay here. I don’t care.
You can explain to Nat why her father is in jail.” Daniel turned and started to
walk away.

“Wait.” Lee said. Daniel stopped and looked back
at him. Lee got up off the bench. “Ancil, you being here won’t accomplish
anything other than you being away from your family. Go home to your daughter.
We’ll be alright here. They can’t hold us indefinitely.”

Ruth added, “It’s okay, really. You don’t have
to feel like you need to stay for us. We can handle everything. It’s not like
this is the first time we’ve been in one of these.”

“It is for me,” Earl said. His shirt was
unbuttoned and he was fanning himself with a handkerchief. Large beads of sweat
were streaming down his face. “It’s hot as hell in here and I could go for a
cold one.”

“We’ll be out of here soon enough, just hold
tight,” Lee assured him.

Ancil thanked Lee and walked out of the precinct
with Daniel and Harley. They were all silent as they got into Daniel’s too
small eco-friendly car and drove away.

No one spoke on the ride home either. Daniel
just looked ahead as he drove, his hands squeezed tight on the steering wheel. Ancil
stared out the window, seeing nothing but the blur of road speeding by. Harley
was in the back. He had fallen asleep and was lying across the backseat. There
would be much to say when they got home. Ancil knew that the reason Daniel
wasn’t laying into him now was because he didn’t want to upset Harley. He still
felt Harley needed to be protected from the world.

When they pulled into the driveway, Natalie came
running out of the house before the car was even off. She wrapped her arms
around Harley and held on to him as if he was going to fly away. She took his
face in her hands and kissed it.

“Are you okay? I was so scared,” she said. “Are
you hurt? Let me look at you.” She held Harley out at arm’s length.

He tried to pull away from her grasp. “I’m fine
Mom. It was no big deal.”

Natalie looked up at her father. “How could you
put him in that situation? What were you thinking?”

“Grandpa didn’t do anything, Mom,” Harley broke
in, “it was the cops.”

“Go inside to your room, Harley,” Daniel
ordered.

“But Dad, I’m telling you what happened. It
wasn’t Grandpa’s fault,” Harley pleaded.

“That’s enough. Go inside now, this doesn’t
concern you.” The look on Daniel’s face said he wasn’t in a mood to play
around. “Natalie, take him in.”

Natalie took Harley by the hand and pulled him
towards the house. Harley looked back at Ancil. His eyes were wet and his lip
was quivering.

“It’s alright, Harley,” Ancil said. “Go in with
your mother. We’ll be in soon.”

When Natalie and Harley were in the house Daniel
turned to face Ancil. “You God damn son of a bitch,” he said, almost in a
whisper. “Who do you think you are taking my son to one of your rally meetings?
Do you know how that makes me look? It puts my whole career at risk having
people know what you do. And everybody knows about you.” Ancil starred back at
him, showing nothing in his expression. Daniel continued, “That’s right, they
all know about the pamphlets and the whispering at the church and the
conspiring with all your other geriatric friends. I don’t know what you’re
trying to accomplish with all this. You can’t change anything that’s happening.
It’s going to happen whether you like it or not. And what’s worse is you
brainwashing Harley to think like you. He told me the other day he didn’t want
to go to school anymore because they don’t prepare you to survive on your own.”

A smirk appeared on Ancil’s face. “He’s already
smarter than me at that age.”

“That’s a joke to you? I don’t need you filling
his head with your garbage.”

“You treating him like a baby isn’t going to
help him either.”

“He’s my son. You understand that? Mine.” Daniel
said as he drove his index finger into his chest. “And I’ll raise him my way.”

“Your way is to have him and everyone else become
dependent on CyberTronix and their machines. I know they’re funding Ellis’ commune
and are the ones behind all the buying up of property from under everyone’s
nose.”

“Henry Ellis is a visionary who will transform
the future of living on this planet. His project is the first step in that
transformation,” Daniel said. “And CyberTronix will be at the forefront of it.”

“You’re blind to your own rhetoric, Daniel,”
Ancil said. “You think you’re going to be leading the way, but workers like you
will be left behind and shut out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you think will happen when the machines
take over your job? What will happen to you then?” Ancil asked. His eyes were
fixed on Daniel’s, intense and powerful. Daniel seemed to reel back a bit when
Ancil said it.

“My position is one of importance to the
project. They need my expertise to move developments forward, for quality
tests. That takes years to do properly. It’s not something you can just
manufacture,” Daniel said. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as
much as he was Ancil.

“For the moment you’re necessary to them,” Ancil
said, “until that is they figure out how to replace you with a machine that can
translate schematics and assess quality with the same level of experience and
nuance it would take a normal man thirty years to attain and at a fraction of
the cost. Face it Dan, you’re no more important to them than the metal worker or
assembly line worker they can replace without missing a beat. You’ll be a
historic footnote in ten years that kids will read about and say, remember when
we use to have people do that”.

Daniel scowled at Ancil. If they weren’t
standing outside he looked like he would have attacked Ancil without
hesitation. “I want you out of here,” he said, nearly trembling.

“I’ll leave,” Ancil said, “but I want you to
remember what I told you because this isn’t about you or me. We had our time on
this planet. It’s about Harley and his generation and I don’t want him not
having what I had when I was younger.”

Daniel gave him a condescending snort. “He’ll
have more. More than you ever had. The Project will see to that.”

“And what will his father see to?”

 “I can see to it that he never sees you again.”

“I’m sure my daughter would have something to
say about that.”

“I’m not so sure she would,” Daniel said. “Nat
knows I’m in the right. She’s told me several times. She can’t figure out why
you could never let go of the past. She’s worried about your influence on
Harley just as much as me.”

Ancil stood there, feeling exposed and alone for
the first time. He never knew how Natalie really felt. Even though he knew she
accepted the idea of the Project for Daniel’s sake, he always thought deep down
she was against it. He knew now that he was truly alone and there was no hope
for Dan or Natalie, but there was still hope for Harley and he’d be damned if
they were going to keep him away from his grandson.