Page 133 of Tapeworld Induction

Dylan’s dad put his hand on Isaak’s shoulder again. “Take care of each other. We may have won the battle in our time, but the war never ended.”

Furrowing his brow, Isaak once again tried his luck. “What really happened? Tell me, Wes. If it’s important to you that Dylan doesn’t know, I promise to protect her from it like you have.”

Wes took a deep breath. “How can I trust you? You just confessed that you love her. You’ll run straight to her and tell her.”

Isaak looked around, unsure of himself. “Look, I can’t tell you what we’re up to. I told Dylan I wouldn’t. But if you don’t hear from us in a few days, go to the Royal Car Wash in Shoreditch. Don’t leave until you talk to a woman named Elodie.”

Perhaps he’d said too much. But it was the only way. Let her father in on something. Gain his trust.

Wes nodded. “You’re acting like a deer trying to escape the shots of a hunter perched on a viewing platform, but I get it. I was like you once. Fine. Where to start… Truth is, a truce with the Kings was the only way our world could survive. That man’s attempt at making everything virtual, replacing our existence with something digital, it sparked something in people. They were no longer content to be citizen consumers.”

The light of the sunset filtered through the window, dull-gold and beautiful. There was a peace to Wes, a sense of a duty accomplished. The sunset was a given, something always there, but thirty years ago, humanity could have seen its last.

“The Tech Kings only live now because we needed them. And Earth only survives because of them. Without their networks, their tech, we would have perished. Nuclear fusion, starch synthesis from carbon dioxide, the mandatory decrease in meat consumption, the million cow march, switching to renewable energy everywhere regardless of the fucking aesthetics… All of these things gave us time to start solving the hard science problems. We weren’t even that far away in the first place. We just needed that starting shot.”

Isaak took note of the word Wes had used. Shot. The start of the Dark Year was marked by blood.

Wes’s eyes flashed with anger and memory. “There was a time when our sword was at their neck. In one night, presidents, prime ministers, CEOs, they were cut down or made to join our cause. I’m not going to lie, son,” he said. “The path will be hard.”

It was already hell.

“But keep Dylan close to you, and you’ll turn out alright,” Wes said. “She’s been waiting for a fight all her life. This thing you’re doing, this is it, I’m sure. Her fight. Your fight.”

“Were you like her back then?”

“Yes. Both me and Constance. Sure, at first people hated us. Blocking traffic on their way to work, destroying their precious paintings. But our point pushed through. Eventually, the masses who hated us, who made fun of us on social media, they joined us.” The sunlight hit his face, his eyes half shut. In that moment, Isaak wasn’t next to an older man nearing retirement, but a soldier of the Apocalypse Revolt.

Isaak dared to ask one last question.

“What happened to the thin jarhead?”

Wes looked him in the eye, a curl at the edge of his lips turning into the faintest of smiles.

46

Freedom

Dylan

Memories of her youth flooded her, up until her thirteenth year when she was shipped off to the Apocalypse Revolt camp. Her bedroom, like the rest of the house, was bereft of technology. Her parents had sworn off it since before the agreement between the Revolt and the Tech Kings, fearing more of their subliminal messaging, subtle encouragement, and attempts at mind control.

“What did you want to talk about?” Dylan asked her mum.

“Honestly, your dad wanted to talk with your new boyfriend in private.”

She was filled with mix of cringe and worry. “What the hell?” She started heading downstairs, but her mum held her arm.

“Leave them, honey. Your dad isn’t gonna bite him. Just give him the once-over.”

“That’s as bad as biting him…” She pursed her lips. “Why?”

“Your dad told me you’ve been asking about our time in the Revolt. That you want details. When you texted earlier saying you’d drop by for a visit, alarm bells started ringing. You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

Looking at her mother was like looking at a mirror, stuck through a time machine. She could try and deny it, but her mum knew her well, well enough to know when she was lying. She crossed her arms and leaned against Dylan’s old vanity, its sleek blacks and greys having dulled with time.

“We agreed not to ask you what it is you’re doing. I just need you to be careful, Dylan Marie.”

Dylan pinched the bridge of her nose at hearing her full given name. “Don’t call me that. I’m a grown woman, you can’t nag me anymore.”