Storm (Swipe Series)

out.”

    That afternoon, Dr. Rhyne placed a call to Mr. Larkin, the head of security at Lahoma’s weather mill. He looked so sick over the tablet connection that Arianna wasn’t sure if he could even hear her. But she had a proposition for him, all the same. There wasa special delivery headed his way, she told him. Sierra Science Center’s nuclear helicopter was flying straight for his town, filled to the brim with a new ingredient to add to the mill’s next batch of cloud-seeding canisters.
    “And it sure would be great,” Arianna said, “if you could find a few Lahomans still chipper enough to load those suckers up . . .”

    The next day, thick clouds again covered much of the American State.
    A new rain had begun.
    2
    The Beacon protests died down in time for General Lamson’s state funeral. Logan’s death sentence had taken much of the wind out of the movement’s sails, and whatever straggling picketers remained were quickly rounded up by the sudden influx of Cylis’s European IMP reinforcements.
    The funeral itself was an extravagant affair, with eulogies by Parliament members, nuclear plane flyovers in missing man formation, musical selections by the IMP band and choir, and a twenty-one taser gun salute. Thousands of Marked citizens came to view the guarded, flag-draped casket—and even more came to see in person the historic transfer of power to their new, supreme leader, Dominic Cylis.
    Lily Langly looked out over that massive audience as Cylis addressed his people—and everyone within the great GlobalUnion—from Lamson’s old Beacon podium. She stood behind the chancellor, just a little off to the side, in her position of immense power as part of Cylis’s new Global Council. Michael Cheswick stood beside her, and he whispered to Lily as the chancellor spoke.
    “I must say, you’ve exceeded every expectation, Champion Langly. You had me worried when you approached General Lamson about his Lahoma plans; I rather doubted that you would follow through with Dominic’s request once you learned the drought was a defensive measure against Project Trumpet.”
    “The general needed to go,” Lily whispered simply.
    “But at the cost of countless American Marked . . . ,” Cheswick said. “Most in your shoes would have flinched in the face of it. And to have your own brother pull the trigger! To pin this all on him!” He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve quite earned your promotion, Champion, in the eyes of the chancellor. In time I expect you may become our first IMP Decider yet.”
    “We’ve both sacrificed country for Unity,” Lily said. “Don’t think for a moment I believe it was only me working under Cylis’s orders within the walls of Lamson’s Capitol.” She looked at Michael Cheswick now, knowing it was he—coordinator of the Trumpet Task Force—who’d smuggled Cylis’s Project Trumpet canisters into the country in the first place; knowing that he’d been a part of this grand plot all along.
    “This is war,” Cheswick agreed. “People die in war. Alliances are tested. Assassinations are a part of the game . . .”
    “And to the victors go the spoils,” Lily said.
    Michael Cheswick nodded. “It will be an honor to work with you on the chancellor’s Global Council. I rather think we’ve much to look forward to, over in Third Rome. Big things lie ahead.”
    Before them, the chancellor lifted his arms grandly to Beacon.He spoke of the general’s greatness, and of his own honor in accepting, now, the mantle of Lamson’s authority. Around him, the new, curing rain fell. Cylis took credit for that too.
    And Lily watched, from behind it all. She stared, unblinking, at the world’s supreme leader. She leaned over to Michael Cheswick. She whispered, “You have no idea.”
    3
    News of Lamson’s death traveled fast across the Global Union, like a gunshot ringing out forever. Even to those few corners of the land without direct Union media access, the word spread quickly.
    But Hailey Phoenix hadn’t been listening to the news. Not since the day she’d spent with her foxhole radio outside her mom’s room.
    She had buried her mother some time later without help, in her own backyard, after removing her mother’s Mark. It took her days to build up the courage to do so. And it took her weeks to move past it.
    She’d barely even eaten since then, let alone cared about current events. She’d barely gone outside. She’d barely noticed the second wave of rain.
    So when Hailey