Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) by Milo Fowler (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📕

from a distance ever since Dr. Wong brought them into our world. I've seen them grow and mature, taking their place in society, each an exemplary citizen serving an important role in every dome. All of them carefully monitored to ensure their safety. None of them ever placed in situations with even the remotest possibility of danger.

The diamond rotates to display Sera Chen's placid, attractive face. A curfew enforcer. One of the most straightforward jobs in Dome 1. If any late-night revelers give you any trouble, you shock them. Then you wait for a transport to pick them up. By no means do you ever go running after them. If they outrun your shocker, you tag them in IR and send your drones after them.

But that's assuming there are no EMP grenades involved.

I curse under my breath, shaking my head at Chen as if I can show her how disappointed I am. She won't be happy about her desk duty assignment, but then again, her happiness is not my concern. Her ability to continue producing viable eggs is what matters. So keeping her safe is one of my greatest responsibilities.

Why did I allow her to become an enforcer? Why didn't I assign her a role in data analysis or food service? Because the Twenty deserve to live rich lives. And they deserve to have a say in those lives—perhaps to balance out how often they've had no say at all.

They never asked to be our saviors.

When Sera Chen applied to become an enforcer, there was no chance she would ever be working the day shift. Too many variables. Too many people out and about. Too many opportunities for an accident to happen. Chen is ambitious. The best of us always are. But she must learn her place, and at the Revelation Banquet, she will discover why she and the others are so important to us. Why they must be protected.

The hologram collapses like a wave crashing onto shore. But I did not gesture for it to do so. I frown, looking around my office. Everything is silent and still. I tap my temple, but my audiolink is inactive. All of my augments are offline.

A warning klaxon wails down the hall—generated by someone manually turning a crank.

I'm on my feet and at my office door just as it swings open.

"Chancellor—" Emmanuel looks pale. "We need to get you off the premises immediately." He holds the door and backs up a step so I have room to exit.

Two security clones stand in the hallway outside, both wearing helmets with dark face shields and white plasteel body armor covering every centimeter of their bodies. They look like robots, but they are biological organisms able to think independently within defined parameters, planning for every contingency in a situation like this.

"Are we under attack?" I take Emmanuel's arm as he leads me to the nearest stairwell. One clone walks purposefully in front of us while the other follows. Both carry assault rifles at rest against their chest plates.

"Unknown. The power is out, and everyone's augments are down. No way to contact law enforcement or find out what's happening." He nods to himself, keeping calm with obvious effort. "So we follow emergency protocols. Get you up to the roof while the rest of the building evacuates downward."

"So much for a quiet day," I murmur as we enter the stairwell after the lead clone's cursory sweep. We start our climb up the three flights of stairs to the roof access door.

"Ma'am?" Emmanuel says, leaning toward me as if he didn't quite hear.

"The terrorists, you think? Another EMP blast?"

He blinks. The thought has crossed his mind; he just doesn't want to admit it and give them that much credit. They have never been this brazen before. "In order to take out the entire building…"

"Can we assume that?"

"Right. Stick to what we know. This floor is offline, so emergency procedures dictate removing you from the premises on the double."

He's starting to sound like his father, the military man on a mission. I don't mind it.

A cool breeze greets us as we step onto the rooftop. The two clones spread out, rifles at the ready, sweeping the entire area. Dr. Wong's creations, designed for a singular purpose: keeping Eurasia's Chancellor safe. My private aerocar sits on the launch pad like a display model. Sleek white with gleaming blue-chrome accents and tinted windows. But the electromagnetic coils aren't warming up as expected, sensing our approach. They're offline like everything else.

"We planned for this contingency, Chancellor," Emmanuel says. "If an EMP ever took out all 150 floors, we assumed your vehicle would be affected as well."

"We?" I face him.

He nods, pointing as a black and white police aerocar makes its approach. It swings sideways in midair and sets down beside my vehicle with a gust of air that blows my hair back from my shoulders. I have to close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, the driver's side door is drifting upward, and Mara Bishop is stepping out.

With a gun in her hand.

The tails of her coat flap as she strides forward, firing twice in quick succession. Each round hits a security clone in the middle of its forehead before it has time to assess the situation. They collapse with a clatter, their rifles pointless accessories now.

"You're not safe here." Mara takes me by the arm as if to escort me to the waiting aerocar.

I pull free and retreat toward the stairwell, but Emmanuel is standing there, blocking my path. I bump into him and cringe. This isn't right.

"Chancellor, you have to trust us," he says in my ear. Too close for comfort.

Brother and sister Bishop working together—for me or against me?

"Explain yourself." I jab an index finger at one of the security clones with a bloody hole in its face shield. Mara did not use a shocker to incapacitate it. She used an actual bullet. "Why was this necessary?"

"I'll explain everything once we're en route to a safe