John and Fox climbed to the top of the train.
“There it is,” John said. “Jump!”
The two hit the ground and brushed off the guard who came to help them.
“Welcome to Whitethorn. What’s your business here?”
“The hell’s going on in there?” Fox asked. “Lot of armed guards.”
“We had a prisoner escape. Just a couple hours ago.”
John swore. “Was it Nyriki Rocco?”
“Yeah,” said the guard, his brow furrowed. “How’d you know?”
“My friend here and I were sent to bring him in. Mr. Hyperion’s got a pretty big bounty on his head.”
“Well, he can get in line. From what I hear, he’s got quite a few bounties on his head.”
“Mr. Hyperion does not ‘get in line,’” John said, anger creeping into his voice.
“Back off,” said Fox. “Where’d he go?”
The guard shrugged. “You’d have to ask the city council. Go on in.” As they went through the gate, the guard shouted back to them. “Hey, that bounty—is it dead or alive?”
“Alive,” Fox said.
“Damn shame!” The guard turned back to face the railroad tracks, and John and Fox headed toward the council building.
***
Mr. Hyperion closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Putting down his empty teacup, he stood and pressed a button on his desk.
His secretary was at the door in just a second, clipboard in hand. “Yes, sir?”
“I’m ready. My speech, please.”
“Yes, sir, here it is.” She took a paper from the clipboard and handed it to him.
“Thank you. Take me to the press room.”
“Yes, sir, follow me.”
***
Myers sat on a rock overlooking nothing, weighing his options. The three Estates were interconnected, so no matter where he went, someone would be after him. On the other hand, how many resources would they be willing to spend to kill just one person? Not like I blew up a power plant or anything.
With that thought, his spirits sank. Hyperion probably thought Myers was sabotaging the mine on purpose, that he was a rebel. Then Hyperion would be more than willing to spend quite a bit of money to kill just one person, if he thought that person was trying to topple the Estates.
“Looks like I’m out of luck,” he said to the vast emptiness before him. “Those damn rebels.” He swore loudly, then got up. As he paced back and forth, he considered another option. He could join the rebels.
He did know someone who know a guy who knew a guy who was part of the Chimera. But the Chimera had a reputation for being radical terrorists, and Myers wasn’t about to throw in his lot with them. But he didn’t see any other options.
***
Barren landscape and grey skies were all Rocco could see for miles. He thought about what was going to happen. It all depended on what was in the dead drop. Tariro wouldn’t let him read it until they were safe in Redway. He wondered how long it would be before he could talk. Or move without help. Hopefully Redway has a good doctor.
***
In a room full of eager faces, Mr. Hyperion stood tall at a podium, atop which was the only recording device in the room. It would send his message through radio to the entire country.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. His voice was warm, deep, commanding. “Most of you know of the criminal organization known as Chimera. Most of you know that these men and women are terrorists. That they could be anyone, anywhere. Most of you also know that they threaten the stability of this great nation.” He paused, letting the words sink in, making eye contact with the dignitaries and senators in the room with him.
“Many years ago, our world fell apart. An increase in terrorist crime caused by an increase in global awareness—due, in no small part, to the internet—forced our government to declare war. This Third World War caused catastrophic devastation. Our once green hills are now bare. Our amber waves of grain remembered in song are now desolate. Our majestic purple mountains are now black with soot, and scarred by explosives.” He had their attention. Some were nodding, some were murmuring agreement. He held up a hand to silence them, but smiled to show them that he understood and agreed with them.
“Terrorism destroyed our world. Destroyed our country. Destroyed our dreams, our way of life, our everything. And I will not allow this to happen again! Which is why, ladies and gentlemen, I have prepared a plan—a plan to stop the Chimera, eradicate terrorism, and bring back the glory of the United States of America.” Applause. He never got tired of that sound. A man in the back, dressed in a long black coat and a wide-brimmed black hat, stood and walked out. Mr. Hyperion smiled to the crowed, and once again motioned them to be silent.
***
In a dark alley outside the building, Mr. Hyperion approached the man dressed in black.
“Enjoyed your speech Mr. Hyperion. Looks like you did too.”
“Did you want something, Mr. Polus?”
“No. Not quite. I just wanted to let you know that the Polus Estate is behind your new policies one hundred percent.”
“And why are you telling me this in person, instead of sending a messenger?”
Mr. Polus smiled and put a hand on Mr. Hyperion’s shoulder. “We have much to discuss, old friend. Come with me.”
* New installments of The Hyperion Estate appear every three weeks.
