Chapter 23 The Best Minds

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The ever-present symbol of Sub Terra was a fist rising out of Earth. Defiance had been stitched on every uniform, every banner, and emblazoned on a gargantuan, widescreen television monitor jury-rigged to include a screensaver, mounted over a platform mere feet above the floor. The platform convexed outward like a stage, to a hall full of diligent uniforms: the arms and eyes of a rebel gallery.

Jessica wondered how rebellion might work in reality. Banner and banner to the left and right, the mark of resistance was weighted by the promise of sacrifice. She caught a glimpse of it in the forest, and it was dour... mildly put. Reality had placed hundreds more men and women on the bottom of the underground base, chins upturned to the platform in anticipation. They may have already known sacrifice, and thus served a cause of interconnected resolve. 

Nothing less could have drawn them to this life.

Wherever there was a cause, resistance had authority—why Jessica carried her gaze to Monarch. Alongside him, on the sturdy platform, a few notable characters presented themselves before the crowd. Sub Terra's insignia at their backs helped project their gravitas. By acquaintance or deduction, she could guess every single one of their identities.

Monarch: commander of the New Sumer cell, possibly the biggest cell in the territory. He still sported a Sicario suit, tying himself to the grunts below. A soldier first and foremost, yet he wore a greater stature than most. Hence, he passively exuded an air of clout.

A mystery man stood next to Monarch. The shallow creases of his sun-tanned complexion placed a wizened soul, yet not as wise as one could go. Like the incongruity of their surroundings, he had an unkempt brown beard, but his blue eyes appeared sharp, like the dark-collared uniform that embraced his lean figure. So far as the atmosphere concerned itself, there was nothing more formal. And as far as Jessica could guess, this was Commander Wessex.

Then there was Amon, still wearing sunglasses inside. He had to be more important than Jessica originally conceived. Despite his playful behavior, he had a very controlled gait and poise, both of which came naturally. He had the quirks of a hacktivist in conjunction with a warrior's presence. Those sunglasses might have been the prop to an act... or maybe they saw through clothes.

On a stool, apart from the Sun-Terra higher-ups, sat a stranger wrapped in a trench coat, sunglasses, and endless bandages. There may have been skin under his coverings, but aside from his tallness, his features blended into the background.

Together, the leaders' esteem reflected in the stance of Sub Terra. Approximately half of the cliques from the previous tunnel mob had assembled into perfect columns that put their surrounding symmetry to shame. Lines of clean green comprised the engineers; red and grime were the hues of hard labor: logistics workers; and dark blues and greys were the men and women in battle-ready suits. At the behest of the columns, next to the platform edge, several officers formed a line. Among them stood Raptor, Beelz, and Boros.

Many more Sub Terrans anxiously waited near the one-way tunnel, those who belonged to other cells. Theirs were the familiar faces Jessica met underneath the city: The motley crew, the eager troop from the nexus, Chris, Dissent, and more. Contrary to them and everyone else, Jessica sat cross-legged, back to the wall, inconspicuously spectating off the flank of one column. Her little corner where she tried but failed to avoid the stereotypical introvert role, made worse by the absent look in her eye. With all essential personnel present, Monarch commenced.

"Let's get right down to it. At roughly 0100 hours yesterday, a batch of groundbreaking intel fell into our hands."

That's one way of putting it.

"Observe."

On the large screen, detailed isometric renderings of New Sumer spun before the rebel throng. 8,000 Pixels of architectural precision. Within that detailed panorama, several strokes of holographic red pulsed."Asgard has started filtering into the city after fear spread throughout the otherwise clean air. The city is still reeling from the Fourth of July, which would explain why people have accepted the changes haphazardly. Maybe, they believe it's temporary. Unfortunately, the build-up isn't confined to New Sumer." 

Commander Wessex then stepped forward and commandeered the crowd with a low, throaty pitch. "Pine Rim brought greater ripples than we anticipated." The screen image backed into a top-down view of New Sumer. "Our little incursion on 15 and Superhighway 220 did nothing to placate matters. Among the dead, local law enforcement identified two Azarean civilians."

Agents, you mean.

"Unsurprisingly, the Azareans have adeptly weaved their web of lies. From the data that Amon and Dissent sifted through, we learned that Spearhead is mass-producing military-grade weapons. Our fear is, they will establish operational strongholds near independent territories carved by the Geneva Terrestrial Accord. Thanks to recent events, rumors of an insurgency—even on the fringes of Eden sprawl—could lead to a hostile foreign policy. Goliath, being a private entity, needs permission or an invitation to tread Union-free soil."

Asgard can't just march into the city, so Goliath orchestrated this particular terrorist incident to get authorization. They'll pretend they're here to protect people, but they're looking for Sub Terra... In a way, by gaining public favor, Asgard blends into the background just as well as they have. Are they looking to construct another Eden?

"Of course, nobody knows the truth," Wessex continued. "The sight of militarized police will soon be the norm. Has anyone kept tabs on Camstagram, lately?"

There's still no accounting for SK-3's weaknesses.

"It only gets worse," enjoined Amon. With his phone, he filled the screen with screenshot after screenshot of aliens and humans assembled in military uniforms. "The government placed the Azarean Expedition Front on standby. These images from a recruit's private device confirm deployment preparations on the Baldur Space Station. More images are surfacing across social media. The following hashtags are trending: #NewSumer #pinerim #neverforget ##asgard #azareansftw #won. Inside information has been scarce ever since our primary informant was compromised."

Informant?

"Lynx..." 

Jessica lifted her gaze to Wessex, who extended a beckoning arm and a half-hearted grin across his middle-aged face.

"Monarch tells me our strategy owes itself to your struggle. For that, you should stand and be recognized," he said.

Warily, very warily, so warily that her bones were stone, Jessica stood up and carried her legs to the platform. All eyes on her, she swallowed her train of thought, and, upon lifting her right foot onto the platform, likened the scenario to Commencement. Only instead of students, it was a mature audience of resistance warriors. And instead of school faculty waiting, they were military chiefs who could be charged with treachery. It seemed a little bit out of the norm for a teenager.

Wessex threw his voice. "Our intel came through valiant and coordinated sacrifice, ladies and gents. One civilian has survived and made retaliation against the regime and the Azarean private sector possible. Treat her as an honorary member who will be invaluable to our efforts, moving forward."

When the hell did I sign up?

The room responded with a loud and uniform salute, which brought back the knots in Jessica's back.

"Every division must stand in synch for what comes next," the commander continued. "Impeccable coordination is the key to dismantling the first Spearhead installation. Intel will handle the insertion points and ground routes, but we'll need to be resourceful if we hope to consolidate—"

Jessica flinched out of anxiety. "Hold on! Slow your role for a second?"

"What is on your mind, Lynx?

"Where's your plan to take down Goliath?"

"We're in the middle of that."

"No—nonono. Where's the... where's your plan to bring down Goliath Headquarters?"

Interrogative murmurs started throughout the room. Like most folks present, Wessex gawked at Jessica in hoping to gauge her level of crazy. However, the stares and the murmurs bounced off the girl's hardened demeanor.

"We cannot be so bold as to assault the lion's den just yet," said Wessex. "Our contingency for Goliath's abrasive actions is to defang the viper: infiltrate Spearhead, neutralize their weapons labs, and topple their fighting ability. Stealth operations would limit their potential as a hostile regime."

Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose, her head fell, and her brow crushed from deep disbelief. You can't be fucken serious...

"Plus, we would have to charge a lot of rotors for an assault on the city," added Monarch. "It would be a risky stretch of our resources. Forget about getting enough operatives in the headquarters; there's no safe rendezvous. Our airships would be spotted miles outside of the sprawl, and above all, we'd lack the element of surprise."

"You sound scared," said Jess.

"Whatever I must feel to keep my head in reality."

"Accept reality, then!" Jessica fixed herself upright before the crowd of onlookers. Her lean figure focalized, thanks to the red vest, and tingling, her glossy eyes surveyed the faces below and throughout. "I stared into the eyes of a Goliath agent who saw me from a mile away. They know what we have, I know what they want, they know what we'll do. Sub Terra is supposed to be a counterweight to the Azarean regime. Out of a thousand permutations though, I say with 100% certainty that Spearhead is expecting you, which leads to variables underneath a dismal chance of success. They will match Sub Terra move for move until you're cornered... like the Woodsmen."

"In the interest of time, then, tell us where you're going with this, Lynx," Monarch said.

"Goliath's monopoly over information has got humanity beat a hundred times over." Inquisitively, Jessica locked eyes on Amon. "They've literally gotten away with murder for the past hundred years. Seen the data yet?"

Amon removed his sunglasses, to reveal grievous blue eyes. "Dates and organization in Lynx's data paint a pretty morbid picture of conspiracy over the last few generations," he said. "Assuming we did broadcast the data through the right channels, it could cripple Goliath and the Union's status quo.

"We could choke their attempts to suppress the truth. But without a better way to disseminate evidence, there's no guarantee our damning evidence would sprout beyond the lowest rumor mines of 4Chan. We have no blanket solution for waging an information war... which sucks."

"Amon didn't keep us out of the loop," Monarch rejoined. "Nothing solid can come of treason in a chip. Like I said the first time, we cannot credit acts of terrorism to an Azarean conspiracy, with the exception of what you collected on Pine Rim. But, as Amon said, there's no way to make it stick."

Wessex nodded. "Dissent is still the cyber screen between our operations and the public eye. They cannot prioritize a task whose potential for success is illusory, not when news outside the corporate network can be so easily denied and discredited. I don't think we should place our hopes on social media justice."

Jessica grit her teeth. "Which is why hacking Goliath from the inside is your only bet."

"I want to hear what she has to say," said Amon.

Wessex furrowed his brow. "You're willing to place stock on Lynx?"

"She's the smartest person here!" a voice yelled.

Valerie fumbled forward, toward the front of the crowd. A healthy curiosity overtook the room, perplexed faces homing in on the pushy brunette. Again, Jessica's eyebrows crunched into her eyelids. She knew Homegirl meant well but just had those moments...

Valerie grabbed herself onto the platform. "All you have to do is listen to what Jessica is saying and that's half the work done for you," she said as if spreading common knowledge. "I used to think she was smart, then found out she's a genius."

"This meeting is now an informal occasion, it seems," Wessex muttered.

"Quickly, Jess! What's four-thousand, five-hundred and thirty multiplied by... one-million, nine-hundred and... thirty-four thousand... four-hundred and fifty-two?"

"I'm not that fast," Jessica scoffed. "But it's 8,763,067,560"

"What is the square root of Pi?"

"We can't be here forever, Val."

"What's the Capital of Oceania?"

"Sydney."

"What's the equation for perpetual energy?"

"Enough!" Monarch interrupted. "This is not a Q&A session. But if your cognition is everything it appears to be, is it safe to assume you have a plan to infiltrate Goliath?"

"Do you really suggest allocating resources and manpower based on the whim of this civilian?," Wessex remonstrated." Did you not just recruit her?"

"Well," Jessica shrugged nervously. "It's more like... a collaboration. And to answer your question, Monarch, yea."

"I'd listen to what she has to say," said Raptor, standing below the edge of the platform.

Monarch crouched several feet from his head. "Is that my best lieutenant vouching?"

"Yes, sir. I am on the side of Lynx and Wildcat. Both cats."

Monarch stood up with a final, slight nod of approval. His vague smirk pointed at Wessex, and his peer's defiant grimace relented after a long sigh.

"Very well," Wessex said, folding his hands. "You have the floor, Lynx. Tell us your plan to scale Goliath Headquarters."

Jessica trepidatiously inhaled and mouthed a "Thank you" to Raptor, who nodded slowly. She then straightened her lips at Valerie before planting her focus on the crowd. The whole of Sub Terra lent their ears.

Deep breaths.

***

In a sleight-of-hand manner, Lynx hardwired Sub Terra's large monitor, to which she then fed data from her holo-brace. The monologue that followed stole the character of a university lecture. There was wit, jargon, and a shameless air of eccentricity.

"Now, according to the data that I—Ich, ho, yo—freed from Goliath's chip, and judging by the dimensions, there are 90 accessible levels in the building, and they come with unique designations. There's no way to account for every level, but the points of interest are here: 75: Synaptic Interfacing; 76: Biometric Weaving; 77 through 78: Artificial Synthesis; 80 and up are uncatalogued. But, since everything underneath deals with business divisions, online services, and Goliath's usual PR spiel, probability suggests the top levels are reserved for the sinister applied sciences, and I'm willing to bet 90 is there communications nexus. In other words..."

Fluidly and concisely as able, Jessica explained Goliath HQ's architectural layout. From Insertion points, to escape routes, to security redundancies, to secondary redundancies and floor overviews, she sang invaluable intelligence to the room. Then she did it again, hoping hundreds of Joes and Janes could commit the gist to memory. Further, she synched the lecture with a series of diagrams. Her hand danced on the holo-brace and highlighted every note-worthy point on Goliath's megastructure.

Wessex raised his hand.

"I know what you're going to say," said Jessica. "How do we spread the evidence. Right? If you can get me into the Nexus, I'll broadcast Goliath's incriminating dialogue of Pine Rim throughout the intercontinental Eden network. Make Azarean epistemology catch fire. Everyone digs deeper into Goliath's business, social media buries the government, and everyone will take sides. Azareans fall into the limelight."

"And what is your plan for neutralizing their defenses?" a voice interrogated. That husky voice. 

Jessica veered inquisitively and saw Beelz stepping onto the platform, Boros nearby. They made the hairs on her skin rise. Beelz took her time inspecting the bright diagram, casually crossing her hands between her elbows. 

"We lack a detailed blueprint for what's inside that tower," the redhead said. "More importantly, we don't know what top-level security looks like."

Boros snapped his fingers in agreement.

"Beelz and the Boros are right," said Monarch. "This is Goliath: A cutting-edge supergiant with the world in a vice grip. We don't know the horrors they've been cooking up in that place, despite our best efforts to find out."

"Can't be worse than what you'd find at a Spearhead black site," said Jessica.

"Variables," Beelz hissed. "Asgard will be there, bet chur computational ass on that. Other forms of lethal security? Likely, whether it's automated, cyber defense or brute force. I posit all of the above."

"Goliath's data is a start point for an order of operating," Jessica exclaimed. " And I have a very strong idea of what they're cooking up: prototype mind control, energy weapons, studies of the human genome. Anything they've developed will get worse if we let them stay where they are. That's a promise."

Monarch frowned. "None of those things you mentioned were on the chip you gave us."

Jessica flashed a BB-8 chip. "No, they weren't."

"You are clever," Beelz said. She tapped the tip of her index finger on her chin, deliberating. "The girl is right about one thing." Boros snapped his fingers three times. "Human experiments would stain the upper floors of that towering phallus. Day-in and day-out, airships land to drop off and haul mysterious cargo." Beelz's green eyes suddenly blazed over the room with somber intensity. "I vote we infiltrate Goliath, so long as I come along."

Jessica flinched.

"I second that," said Amon. In his stiff stance, he mirrored Beelz's resolve. "But, I'm going to need to hold down the fort if you want a minute-by-minute analysis of the situation."

Wessex cleared his throat. "I understand the need to act, but I can't be bloody mad in suggesting we update our preliminary intel? Which takes time. Otherwise, the op could deteriorate into a dog's dinner. Our A-team is still in the field. Our odds improve if we wait."

"Assuming Goliath doesn't Sub Terra-proof their base," said Valerie. "Ahora, right now, has to be the best time. Wouldn't it be weird if, right after a terrorist attack, there was another fight in the city? Wouldn't people lose faith in Asgard, at least? Plus, like homegirl implied, I doubt they're expecting us."

"There's another variable," Jessica muttered under her breath. "How would we steer people clear of Goliath..."

Raptor chimed in. "Sacrifice might be something we have to accept. There's virtually no way around it."

"I don't have to accept anything."

"Then you'll crack like you did in the forest," he said matter-of-factly.

Jessica blinked as Raptor made eye contact with his superiors. 

"Success rate improves if we act now," the lieutenant continued. "Waiting, sitting here on our butts, gives Asgard more time to find us. They'll scour the countryside after they've mopped up the forest. That's my two cents, which is why I volunteer."

"There's a lot to lose," Monarch said, cross-examining everyone. "If we enact Lynx's plan, we'd need nothing less than our best. There are a lot of wheels to grease, a lot of alleys to squeeze through. Cyberwarfare and weapons specialists are

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