Marlowe Kana Book 1, Volume 1
by Joe Peacock Genre: Cyberpunk, SciFi
It's 51 years after the Second American Civil War. The 40 million citizens of the United American State are aghast to find that their biggest celebrity, Major Marlowe Kana of the Imagen Military and Security Division (MilSec), has just been found guilty of treason. Every Feed on the Net has been covering the events of her trial, and two questions remain to be answered: What will happen to MK, and what will the nation watch now that the Next Top Soldier Hall-of-Famer (and star of the most-watched Feed in history) is locked away? The answer comes almost immediately and shakes the country to its core.
This eBook contains Book 1, Volume 1 (chapters 1-10) for easy reading in your reading platform of choice. Read new chapters of the Marlowe Kana series for free at the website -- a new chapter is published every Monday!
"This can't be happening!"
She tore through her family's modest two-story home, skidding when her socked feet
reached the kitchen floor tile. The lights rose as she crossed the threshold. Displaying the agility
of her hero Marlowe Kana, she nimbly dodged the corner of the kitchen island and barely
slowing, extended her hand and reached for the door handle to the greenhouse. Cool, fresh air
greeted her shorn scalp as she flung the door wide.
“Dads!” she yelled.
Brian and David Millar both looked up, jarred from the peaceful zen of tending to their
plants. Before either could ask what was going on, Britany blurted out. “It’s MK! It happened!
She’s… You gotta come see!”
Brian looked at David and shrugged. “I guess we should…”
“Of course,” David said. “It’s important to her.”
“Well, it’s important, period,” Brian replied. “But especially to her.”
The fathers carefully laid their gardening implements on the table and walked toward the
door, removing their gloves and masks. Britany had already fled back inside, finding it
physically painful to be away from the screen. As Brian and David entered, they were taken
aback by the massive red bar flashing across the screen on the living room wall as it blared the
word "GUILTY!" Above the text was a pair of side-by-side photos of the most famous person in
the nation: Marlowe Kana.
The left-hand photo displayed a half-body shot of a healthy, muscular woman in full MilSec
dress uniform, campaign ribbons and medals adorning nearly the entire top half of her jacket.
She had short white hair, carefully groomed and parted in a manner befitting a by-the-books
MilSec soldier. Despite the massive scar across her cheek under her right eye, there was a light
and a life in her eyes that complimented her slight smile. Her expression spoke volumes. It
seemed to say that, while she took her duties seriously and performed them with the gravity of a
committed and dedicated soldier, she had, in fact, a truly all-encompassing love for her work. A
fact that all of her 20+ million fans knew from watching her Feed, despite her seemingly
constant annoyance at the fame it brought her.
The right-hand photo showed the same woman, her hair shaved to stubble and her uniform
replaced with a bright orange prison jumpsuit. The smile was gone, as was the light in her eyes.
They seemed dead and hollow. Her cheekbones were pronounced and her face was gaunt from
The NewsFeed crawl below the photos detailed that just moments ago, at 7:02 p.m., "Next
Top Soldier" Hall-of-Famer, Major Marlowe Kana, had been found guilty of attempted murder,
conduct unbecoming a MilSec soldier, and treason against the United American State.
Despite having seen many hyperbolic developments on the NewsFeed in their days, both
David and Brian couldn’t help but gasp. The national hero — everyone’s favorite Next Top
Soldier for the past ten years and the General’s daughter — guilty of treason? It seemed
impossible to believe. But there it was, writ large on the wall-sized screen, with every talking
head on the NewsFeed animatedly discussing this latest development in the saga that had gripped
the nation for the last three months.
“Oh dear,” Brian said just as David blurted out “Oh shit.” Brian smacked his husband on the
Through the haze of her dismay, Britany heard her father cursing. She didn’t bother to
remind him to put a credit in the curse jar. Self-improvement seemed trivial in the face of such
The street light streaming through the window wall glinted off of Britany Millar’s tears. She
looked up at her fathers. Together, they went to her and comforted her. They ached to explain
that even heroes can screw up and that everyone must be beholden to the law. But they couldn’t
find the words. They didn’t need to. The entire nation had flooded the Feeds with their
“...That’s right, Tom,” Amanda Stokes, correspondent for NewsFeed, was saying on the
screen. “The nation overwhelmingly believed that Marlowe was guilty all along, with #IKnewIt
in first place with 12 million tags.”
“You called it from the beginning, Amanda,” Tom Wallace replied, “For weeks, we’ve been
watching #IKnewIt trend upward, as the evidence proving Marlowe’s innocence never turned up.
So that is no surprise. But MK still has her fans, as we can see by the second place response
#MarloweIsInnocent, followed by #PrayForMarlowe, #FuckMilSec, and
The screen suddenly went silent as Britany extended her hand and circled her index finger
counter-clockwise; a gesture-based command relayed to the screen via the embedded Pod that
wrapped around the base of her skull, which muted the Feed. In a voice strangled with pain, she
summoned the omnipresent AI assistant, JAQi.
“Yes, Britany?” JAQi replied flatly, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at once.
“Post to my Feed that I’ll never, ever believe that MK is guilty, and anyone who does is
immediately banned from my list!”
“Yes, Britany,” JAQi replied. A tone signaled that the job had been done.
“And also that I’m NOT growing my hair back just because she lost! Not ever!”
“Yes, Britany,” JAQi responded. Another tone signaled.
“--Britany, honey...” her father Brian interjected soothingly.
“No!” she snapped. “This isn’t...I’m NOT apologizing for supporting MK!”
“Honey,” David chimed in, “We know...”
“It’s a setup!” she yelled. “It has to be! Marlowe would never...she didn’t do this! It’s the
terrorists! It’s got to be! They’re setting her up!”
“It’s a really complicated--" Brian began to say, before David cut him off.
“You’re right, honey,” David consoled. “This is a tragedy. You have a right to be upset.” He
turned to his husband and looked him in the eyes. “We all do."
On the screen, aerial footage flickered of Marlowe being led into a large secure transport
vehicle, while the crawl continued to repeatedly trumpet her guilty verdict. Brian Millar hugged
his daughter closer, and placed his free arm around his partner's shoulder. Nothing would ever be the same: if they couldn't put their trust in Marlowe Kana, then in whom could they?
Together, the family began to cry.
Marlowe Kana Book 1, Volume 2
Volume 2 picks up immediately after the events of Volume 1 (spoilers ahead): Jen and Marlowe are on the run from MilSec and the contestants on United America's Next Top Solider. They have to find the evidence that exonerates Marlowe -- not just to clear her name, but to free her father as well. Help shows up in the form of the mysterious Judge and his supporters, The Sovereign. Meanwhile, the President of the United American State, Stephen Cook, has found himself at odds with the corporation his family started and he once helmed. His autonomy as President is being challenged at every turn. The entire country has taken notice and tuned in to every Feed on the net, keeping track of the events as they unfold -- and they aren't disappointed, as Marlowe her toughest opponent yet -- It's just too bad she can't see what (or who) it is...
This eBook contains Book 1, Volume 2 (chapters 11-18) for easy reading in your reading platform of choice. Read new chapters of the Marlowe Kana series for free at the website -- a new chapter is published every Monday!
“…Ball is at the 27, it’s fourth and a short one,” SportsFeed announcer Pat Daniel trumpeted. “Four seconds left on the clock… It’s do or die for the Atlanta Phoenix. If they don’t convert, their three-year New Super Bowl streak is over and the Indianapolis Capitols win their first ever UAFL title!” The video on the screen in Dr. Ben Rossler’s vehicle suddenly froze. “We have arrived at Grady-Usher-CeeLo Memorial Medical Center, doctor,” JAQi announced calmly. “Would you like—” “Dang it, JAQi,” Dr. Rossler complained, “You know not to interrupt when I’m watching the game!” “Yes, sir,” JAQi replied. “But your patient is inbound via airlift in forty-four seconds. You were paged with urgent priority, and you’ve replayed this particular game seventeen times since its original air date last week.” Doctor Rossler was quiet for a moment. “Fine, I guess you have a point,” he muttered. “But quickly, just replay the touchdown.” A tone sounded and the footage restarted. “TOUCHDOWN!!!!” Pat Daniel yelled hysterically as Atlanta Phoenix's star receiver, Brian St. Jacques, caught the hail mary pass thrown by Sean Roma, the retiring quarterback. The two players chest-bumped each other in the end zone as the crowd went wild. “The Atlanta Phoenix are officially a dynasty! United American Football League New Super Bowl Champions for a fourth consecutive year!” “YES!” Dr. Rossler cheered, pumping his fist in the air and nearly hitting the roof of the car. “Never gets old!” “Your patient, Doctor,” JAQi announced. “Yeah, yeah, okay! I’m on it!” Dr. Rossler eased his six-foot-four, three hundred pound-frame out of the rear exit of the painfully small automated U-Lyft Taxi. He was immediately greeted by his ten-person surgical team, along with his personal assistant Devin. As he marched toward the entrance to the hospital, his entourage hurried to match his pace. “Patient has suffered third-degree burns across ninety-five percent of his body,” Devin briefed. “Eyes, sinuses, lungs… All charred and likely unsalvageable. The blast he endured also concussed his brain and pulverized his legs and his one remaining biological arm. Central nervous system seems to be intact, however, a full-scale recreation of all nervous function across the body will likely—” “Gum?” Dr. Rossler asked without breaking stride. “No thanks, sir,” Devin said without shifting his focus from the charts displayed on the heads-up display in his contact lenses. “No… Do you have my gum?” Dr. Rossler asked. Devin shook his head, and then looked past the charts in his eyes at the expectant doctor. “Uh… No sir?” Devin replied warily as they continued into the express elevator. “Here you are sir,” Dr. Karen Vessey, one of Rossler’s surgical staff, said as she handed him a pack of sugar-free Imagen Mint Splash gum. The doors to the elevator closed, and the lift began rocketing up sixty-six floors to the landing pad on the roof. “Thank you, Doctor Vessey,” Doctor Rossler said sharply while staring down at Devin. “Despite being a ten-year veteran of my staff and a highly regarded surgeon, and also NOT my personal assistant, it is awfully kind of you to remember my gum.” “Don’t mention it, sir,” Dr. Vessey replied. “Devin,” Rossler said, not breaking his gaze. “Yes, sir?” “I have the patient’s vitals in my HUD as we speak, and I had the charts sent to me via JAQi before I got out of bed. In fact, what’s in the charts was so fascinating, it’s the only reason I even got out of bed at this hour. I already know what’s in the chart. Unless Mr. Henry Cain -- or do I call him Mad Dog? Or Mr. Dog? I never know with these celebrity soldiers and their damn nicknames… ANYway, unless our patient dies before the transport lands, I already know how I intend to proceed.” “Uh… Yes, sir?” Devin replied as the elevator signaled that they had just passed the twentieth floor. “You answered a transfer request from the front desk to be promoted to my personal assistant, did you not?” “Yes, sir.” “And in that request, did it mention, even once, that you should brief me on the charts?” “Um… No, sir.” “Right. But there were other job functions in the request, most of which you have performed impeccably since you started last week. And there was one thing, specifically, that I asked for in that order. It was in bold font, underlined, and highlighted. What was it that I specifically stated that you should have for me at all times?” “Uh… Imagen Mint Splash gum, sir,” Devin replied. “Right,” Dr. Rossler said briskly as the elevator passed the fortieth floor. “Imagen Mint Splash gum. You even asked when we first met if that was just a joke I put in the transfer post to see if you read the whole thing, didn’t you?” “Yes, sir.” “And I was impressed, because you had.” Devin sat silent. The elevator reached the sixty-sixth floor. “Papers filed, office kept tidy, and Imagen Mint Splash gum in pocket at all times. Understood?” Dr. Rossler queried as the elevator doors opened to the overwhelming noise of a twenty-ton MagLev engine straining to lower the medical heli-transport oto the landing pad. “YES SIR!” Devin yelled over the din as the team exited the lift. The eleven members of the nation’s most advanced biological reconstruction team (and one personal assistant) fought to plug their ears from the engine noise, and to shield their eyes from the lights illuminating the landing pad in the midnight darkness as they hurried toward the medical transport. The back bay door lowered. A hovering gurney with the badly burned husk of a Next Top Soldier contestant was gently pushed out of the transport by medics on either side. The two parties met halfway between the transport and the elevator doors, and the surgical team swarmed the gurney and reversed course back toward the elevator. “JAQi, full scan,” Dr. Rossler yelled while marching. His HUD switched to MRI mode and began surveying all that was left of Henry “Mad Dog” Cain. “I can work with this,” Rossler said to no one in particular as the transport dusted off and flew back toward the Subs to retrieve more victims. “JAQi, mark that the patient is alive on arrival and note the time.” “Twelve-forty-four AM,” JAQi responded. “Let’s get to work!” Dr. Rossler barked as he marched back to the lift. His team followed him, guiding the gurney into the bay doors of the massive Critical Response Unit of GradyUsher-CeeLo Memorial Medical Center, deep in the heart of downtown Atlanta.
Marlowe Kana Book 1, Volume 3
Volume 3 picks up immediately after the events of Volume 2 and Volume 1, and completes Book 1 (spoilers ahead): Marlowe, Jen, and Poet find the mysterious owner of the MKFan_9999 Feed and are on their way to obtain evidence clearing Marlowe's name, when they are confronted by the entire MilSec force of the city of Atlanta! An epic battle rages and the citizens are more engaged than ever. Meanwhile, the holes in President Cook's plan are showing; his grasp on the Marlowe situation quickly loosening to the point of desperation. With no other options, he openly challenges Marlowe to compete one last time on United America's Next Top Soldier. The prize: freedom for herself, her team, and her father. It's a UANTS finale unlike any other in history! The final moments bring about a new set of challenges no one in the country has ever seen before -- not just for Marlowe and her team, but for the entire nation. It's the finale to Marlowe Kana Book 1, and it's the best volume yet!
This eBook contains Book 1, Volume 3 (chapters 19-30, completing Book 1) for easy reading in your reading platform of choice. Read new chapters of the Marlowe Kana series for free at the website -- a new chapter is published every Monday!
They had barely made it to the end of the street before Marlowe was ready to stab her own eardrums out. Or stab everyone in the car. Anything to find some peace. As it was, the only weapons she had available to her were the two metal cuffs still fastened around her wrists. She pondered bludgeoning everyone in the car with them, but suspected it would be too much work. She thought wistfully about bashing her own head in. If I died now, would Imagen let my father go on a technicality? Probably not, ratings for his execution would be too high and far too tempting...
You’re the fucking noob, you NOOB!” Nines hollered at Jen from the back seat.
“The noob who saved your ass!” Jen retorted, red-faced, as she twisted around from the front passenger seat.
“Noob! Hahaha!” Poet cackled as he braked for a stop sign at the end of the road. “That word’s funny!” Marlowe lifted her head slightly from the window she was leaning against, and then let it fall back to the glass with a solid thunk. Nines kicked the back of Jen’s seat. “I only had one hand free!” she yelled. “He taped me up and was going to kill me!”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Nines, why can’t you just admit you needed our help?”
“Uhhh, because I didn’t?” Nines replied, rolling her eyes. “And that’s not my name. Quit calling me that.”
Jen closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Exasperation poured from her nostrils. “Marlowe,” Jen snapped, turning to face her sister. “Do we really need this little brat?”
“Yes,” Marlowe said without opening her eyes.
“See??” Nines was triumphant. “You need me! But I don’t need you!” Her head bobbed side to side in time with the words she lobbed at Jen.
Marlowe’s eyes shot open. She jerked herself upright so quickly the van rattled. “ENOUGH!” She thundered.
Everyone fell silent.
“Jen, you’re an adult,” Marlowe stated. “Stop acting like a child.” J
en’s mouth gaped open. “Me? But she--”
“See?” Marlowe said, “That right there. Stop that.”
Jen glared at Marlowe, incredulous with disbelief. She turned in her seat and folded her arms over her chest, staring out the window sullenly.
“Now who’s the brat?” Nines sneered mockingly.
“Nines?” Marlowe whispered as she whipped around to face her. “SHUT. UP.”
Nines glared at Marlowe with furrowed brows. She huffed, crossed her own arms over her chest, and stared out the back passenger window as defiantly as Jen.
Marlowe sighed. “We haven’t even made it out of the neighborhood yet and you two are ready to kill each other. Which, by the way, I am totally in favor of, if it shuts you both up. But can we wait to do it after, you know, the small task of getting Nine’s footage off her servers and freeing our father from prison? Please?”
There was no reply, save from a snicker from Poet in the driver’s seat.
“I’ll take that as a yes from both of you,” Marlowe said. “Poet…why are we stopped?”
“You were talking,” he replied through his stifled laughter. “And plus, there’s a stop sign…”
“Fucking drive, man!” Marlowe said, slapping the headrest of his seat. “We’re on the clock!”
Poet hit the accelerator. MagLev engines hummed as the maintenance truck borrowed from the EV plant surged forward. They had hardly passed the welcome sign at the front of the Maple Lanes Subdivision when Nines suddenly sat up in shock.
"SHIT!" she exclaimed, breaking her icy facade. “My countermeasures!”
"What about them?" Marlowe asked.
"I need to go back! I need to wipe everything!"
"Oh my god, you don't have a kill switch?" Jen asked disdainfully, referring to the default safety trigger that required input from the owner at regular, predetermined intervals. If the owner wasn’t able to provide that input, the system would self-destruct, assuming that the owner was dead or captured. “SUCH a fucking noob!” Jen chortled.
Poet snorted. “Noob!”
"Of course I have a killswitch, you bitch!" Nines snapped at Jen. “It’s just…you know…not set up yet!”
Jen cackled, stomping her feet on the floorboard of the truck and slapping her legs in glee.
“Shut UP!” Nines barked.
"Can you trigger the self-destruct remotely?" Marlowe interjected.
"Well, yeah,” Nines answered, “But how? I’m not augmented, and we left before I could grab my stuff. No one besides your dumb sister is connected, and I’m not trusting her with anything of mine--"
"Here, will this work?" Marlowe asked, tossing to Nines the handheld Pod that the Judge had given her to replace the Pod she’d cut out of her own skull while in prison.
Nines studied the device for a second. “This thing’s old,” she said as she swiped the screen, tapped it a few times, and inputted some text. She nodded her head. "Yeah, this will work," she said, tapping away on the screen.
"Okay,” Marlowe said. “The unlock key is--WHOA!"
Before Marlowe could complete the sentence, a massive flash of light erupted in the predawn sky in the distance, followed by a monstrous THOOOOOM! Poet slammed the brakes and the MagLev truck skidded to a halt in the middle of the snowy road. Marlowe, Jen, Nines, and Poet all turned to look out the window. A black plume of smoke billowed orange and red over the spot where Nines’ house used to be.
"JESUS!" Jen yelled. "Overkill much?!?”
“I, uh…wanted to be sure,” Nines stammered.
“How much freaking explosive did you use?!” Jen asked.
“Uhh…all of it?” Nines answered ruefully.
“Oh my god!” Jen cackled as Nines shrunk back in her seat, pouting. "Poet, GO!” Marlowe commanded. Poet slammed the throttle stick forward and the truck hummed forward. “Jen? Alerts?” “Nothing yet,” Jen answered, her eyes glowing from the heads-up display in her contacts.
“Well, keep watch. That explosion is definitely going to bring MilSec running.”
"You mean the Army," Jen said, her eyes glowing as she scanned the Feeds, catching up on headlines while looking for alerts about the explosion.
“The what?” Marlowe and Poet asked simultaneously.
“President Cook nationalized MilSec,” Jen said as she flicked the air. “Happened a few minutes ago. It’s now the United American State Army.”
“Well, that’s fucking stupid,” Marlowe said. “Why the hell would he do that?”
“Looks like Cook is taking a stand against Imagen,” Jen replied. “Hey, maybe that means MilSec doesn’t care about us anymore!”
"Doubtful,” Marlowe answered.
“Jesus,” Jen said, flicking her finger upward as she scanned story after story. "I’ve never seen the Feeds so active in my life! It’s not even dawn and there’s over twenty million people watching. They're still discussing dad and how he supposedly committed treason, and of course you're the number-one topic on just about every top-ten list. Footage from Hax’s little camera is being leaked and replayed almost everywhere. You don't even want to know what Amanda's been saying about you."
"You're right. I don't," Marlowe said, closing her eyes and resting her head against the window. "In fact, I don't want to hear anything at all right now. I need a nap. Poet, how long until we get back to the EV plant?”
“Thirty minutes or so,” he answered. “Good,” Marlowe replied, laying her head against the window and closing her eyes. “Don’t wake me for any reason.”
A few seconds of silence was all it took for the dull hum of the MagLev engines to gently mirror the thrum of Marlowe’s heartbeat. She took a deep breath in through her nostrils, thankful for even the small amount of peace.
“Uh…Marlowe,” Poet said quietly.
Marlowe studiously ignored him. She shifted in her seat slightly and adjusted the angle of her neck to prevent the crick she could feel forming. Her back slid slightly down the vinyl seat.
“Marlowe!” Jen barked.
“WHAT” Marlowe roared, her eyes still rebelliously shut.
“Look!” Marlowe didn’t want to look. And yet, she didn’t need to. She’d been on enough airborne missions in her career to instinctively know the sound of a Jumper engine, and she suspected she had heard one approaching before she’d even closed her eyes. She gritted her teeth in frustration. She heard Nines gasp and Jen yelp in fear.
Suddenly, Poet shouted, “Hold on!” The aluminum throttle shaft clacked against the metal console as he slammed it forward. The MagLev bellowed and Marlowe felt her body jerk as the truck lurched forward.
She sighed heavily as the darkness behind her eyelids gave way to a red-orange glow. With a deep sigh, she opened her eyes. A focused spotlight shone through the windows of the truck. A United American State Army Jumper was strafing the sky above them, joined by another on the left, and a third behind them.
“Stop the vehicle!” a voice over a loudspeaker ordered.
“Way to go, Nines!” Jen yelled.
“This isn’t my fault!” Nines retorted.
“They were already on the way,” Marlowe said. “Had to be. Poet, find a tunnel!”
“This is the burbs!” Poet said in exasperation as they barrelled down the road.
“Then drive into the forest!” Marlowe ordered.
“What?!” Poet said. “In this huge thing? No!”
“You want us to get caught?”
“You want to drive?!” Poet yelled over his shoulder.
“OH, SHIT!” Jen yelled.
Poet whipped his head forward to see far off in the distance flashing blue lights and the silhouette of dozens of troops arrayed in a firing line across the road in front of them.
“Speed up!” Marlowe ordered. “Go through them!”
“Wanna get out and push?!?” Poet snapped back. “We’re at max!”
The truck barreled toward the garrison as the three Jumpers matched pace with them.
“Stop! NOW!” The voice on the loudspeaker commanded.
“Don’t stop!” Marlowe ordered.
Spotlight drones hovering over the garrison activated in the distance, illuminating the full complement of force that had been sent to deal with Marlowe and her accomplices. Two rows of mobile barricades shielded nearly a hundred soldiers, half kneeling, half standing, all with rifles trained on the truck. Behind them were more soldiers, ducking behind hovering service cars with the new United American State Army logo emblazoned on the digital paint panels. Three massive troop transport trucks hunkered behind the cars.
Two men in powered ExoArmor marched through the gaps in the barricades. They took up stations in front of the riflemen and their barricades, preparing to stop the truck from breaching the roadblock. Mechanized weapons platforms unfolded from their backs and arced over their shoulders, each sporting a GI-9 .50 antipersonnel cannon on their left shoulders, and a BuzzyBee mini-missile swarm launcher on their right. One soldier pounded his oversized robotic fist into his oversized robotic palm. The other extended his arm, encased in a gigantic robotic appendage, and flicked the joystick control in his hand. The palm of the ExoArmor opened, turned upside down, and waved the truck forward, practically begging for them to get through.
“...Okay, on second thought, stop.” Marlowe said grimly as the truck got to within two hundred yards of the battalion.
“What!?” Poet, Jen, and Nines all gasped at once.
“We’ll never break through all that! Not at this speed!” Marlowe exclaimed. “And even if we could, that Jumper in front of us is seconds away from stuffing a strut through our windshield and reversing its engines! Brakes! NOW!”
Poet gritted his teeth as the garrison in the distance came closer and closer. He pulled the throttle lever back to full stop. The truck lurched and halted with a little over a football field’s distance between them and the troops. The three Jumpers in pursuit hovered in place with spotlights trained on the truck, joined shortly by a fourth which took up a position directly in front.
“Hands out of the windows! NOW!” The voice over the loudspeaker commanded.
“Ah shit...” Jen muttered.
“Yeah, we’re fucked,” Poet added. Marlowe sighed.
“Nines,” she said quickly as she reached down and grabbed the go-bag at her feet. “Climb in the front seat next to Jen, and get low–"
"–no way!" Nines sneered.
Marlowe’s head shot up and her eyes locked with Nines’. The look on Marlowe’s face promptly convinced Nines to comply. She clambered between the two front seats and nestled herself into the passenger seat with Jen, who slid over as far as she could toward the door.
"Find that footage right now,” Marlowe ordered. “Jen, help however you can. Poet, when I give the signal, you go full reverse, then haul ass someplace safe. If you have to go through a Jumper, do it, but they’ll be focused on me."
"Wait, what's the signal?" he asked.
"You'll know it when you see it,” Marlowe answered as she placed an AMP inhaler between her lips. She depressed the button and inhaled deeply, taking another full dose of the quadruplestrength drugs Jen had provided. She shivered.
“Hands out the window or we open fire!” The loudspeaker barked.
“Do it,” Marlowe ordered to Jen and Poet. “Just you two. Nines, stay low.”
Poet reached forward to the console and pushed two buttons, lowering the driver and passenger-side windows. Slowly, Jen and Poet both stuck their hands out of the window.
Marlowe rolled down her window and placed both of her hands out as well.
“Marlowe Kana!” The loudspeaker voice barked. “Out of the car – just you. No one else!”
Marlowe looked at her sister and flashed a crooked smile. “Get our dad out, whatever it takes,” she said.
“Marlowe,” Jen whispered, voice quivering with fear. “What are you going to do?”
"Turn myself in,” she answered as she pulled the lever on the rear passenger door. It swung open. Slowly, Marlowe stepped out.
“Close the door behind you!” The loudspeaker voice commanded. Marlowe gently closed the door, bringing it just shy of latching.
Ropes spilled from either side of the Jumper behind the truck. Heads peeked out, ensuring the area was safe. Four United American State soldiers rappelled out of the Jumper, two from each side, while one remained in a sniper’s position up in the hovering transport, rifle trained on Marlowe. The soldiers touched down and immediately moved into formation, approaching Marlowe with extreme caution. "Hands on the vehicle!” The lead soldier ordered as the team slowly approached. “Do it!”
Marlowe, hands raised over her head, turned and faced the door. She slowly lowered her right hand, resting it on the top of the door and slyly wrapped her fingers around the top of the frame. As she lowered her left hand, she gently pulled the door slightly open. As her left hand touched the door, she slid it quickly along the open edge and yanked the door open, spinning herself behind it for cover. With a grunt, she pressed her body into the door, folding it against the frame until the hinges sheared and tore loose with a grinding SHRIEK! Marlowe fixed her hands around the armrest and the door like a shield. She pressed forward and began sprinting toward the soldiers.
“FIRE!” The lead soldier screamed.
Fingers pulled triggers. The sound of a dozen empty trigger clicks echoed all around, followed by another dozen. None of the trademark whizzing of Imagen railgun magnets spooling could be heard; no reports echoed as slugs should have left the muzzle of a barrel. The only thing they could hear was the crunching of Marlowe’s footsteps through the snow.
“Oh, shit,” the lead soldier whispered. He watched down the sights of his defunct rifle as Marlowe ducked her head behind the door, her eyes disappearing beneath the window. She lunged forward, ramming full-force into the the soldiers, sending each one flying like bowling pins in a perfect strike. Instinctively, Marlowe raised the door directly over her head to shield from the sniper’s shot, which to her amazement, never came.
She looked up through the window of the door to see a confused sniper smashing her palm into the receiver of her malfunctioning weapon. Not one to question good fortune on the battlefield, Marlowe reared back and flung the door like a discus toward the Jumper. The sniper looked up from her broken rifle in time to see the car door collide with the right wing, tearing through the MagLev engine mounted underneath. A shower of sparks and spindles of lightning erupted from the engine, electrocuting the sniper and sending her crashing down on top of two soldiers who were just getting to their feet.
The Jumper lurched as the pilot attempted to adjust for the loss of the engine. He overcorrected, sending the Jumper yawing violently over in mid-air. Marlowe crouched, then leapt into a backwards somersault, narrowly escaping the Jumper as its remaining MagLev engine slammed into the ground less than a meter from where she had been standing. The other soldiers were immediately crushed in the wreckage.
Without losing a moment, Marlowe ran back to the wreckage, grabbing a soldier’s useless rifle along the way. She shoved the butt end of the weapon into the wobbling air intake spindle of the remaining engine of the Jumper, bringing it to an abrupt halt. She seized the blades of the turbine and yanked back as hard as she could, pulling it clean off the spindle. Ignoring the searing heat, she turned and flung the fan like a frisbee. It whipped through the air past the EV plant truck and sailed into the first of the two ExoArmored soldiers who were sprinting her way full speed.
The rotor struck the facemask of the left-hand soldier’s helmet and tore through it like a sawblade, sending a showering mist of blood into the air and his body tumbling head-over-heels backward. The other soldier turned to look in frank horror. As he glanced swiftly back toward the truck, he was more horrified to see how quickly Marlowe had suddenly covered the distance between them.
He had no time to react as Marlowe left her feet and somersaulted over him. She grabbed the impact bars extending up and over the shoulders of the soldier’s ExoArmor, and as she brought herself around to land, pulled the soldier off his feet and over her head. With every ounce of power in her body, she flung him forward and heaved the metal-clad body thirty yards through the air before he crashed down onto the snow-covered roadway. His arms and legs flailed as he skidded the rest of the distance toward the garrison, scraping to a stop just as his head gently tapped the barricade.
The soldier sat up groggily, thankful to somehow be alive. But before he could complete the thought, he felt Marlowe’s left foot land on the frontispiece of his ExoArmor, and her right foot stomp directly on top of his helmet. Marlowe launched off of his helmet and over the barricades, where she landed directly in the center of a crush of soldiers all rushing forward in the mad hope of being the one to collar Marlowe Kana.
“Goddammit, FIRE!” A captain bellowed over the loudspeaker behind layers of barricades, soldiers, trucks, and tanks as Marlowe tore into the soldiers. The empty clicks of triggers sang like crickets all around. Marlowe grabbed a rifle from one of the circle of soldiers around her, drew back, and and clubbed its former owner on the back of the skull. He doubled over. She leapt up, stepped on his head, and launched herself off his back onto the top of one of the tanks directly behind the line of riflemen. The soldiers, finally convinced their guns were useless, dropped them and swarmed over to the tank where Marlowe stood perched on the end of the barrel. They all stood and watched in awe as she stared down at them.
“This doesn’t have to happen,” she said to the crowd of mesmerized soldiers. “Let us go and I’ll spare your lives.”
“Take her DOWN!” The captain screamed over the loudspeaker.
A roar erupted as the soldiers began yelling and climbing up the tank.
“Well, I tried,” Marlowe said with a shrug. She sprang from the tip of the tank’s gun like a diver, flipped through the air, and came crashing down on top of the group of soldiers, fist on knee. The soldier she landed on spat blood onto the inside of his faceplate as several of his internal organs ruptured.
Marlowe stood and spun with her fist out, clipping a soldier in the helmet with her metal cuff. With another spin, she flung her foot out and nailed another soldier in the sternum with a perfectly placed kick, stopping him in his tracks. She whipped her leg up and around and caught the solder around the neck, then flung him to the ground, snapping his spine. A dozen more soldiers swarmed her, all piling on top of her at once. They grabbed her arms and her legs, attempting to subdue her. She smashed the two soldiers holding her arms together helmet-tohelmet, knocking them out. Two more took their place. She slammed one on the helmet with the cuff around her wrist, and the other she seized by the throat. She began spinning, using the limp soldier’s boots as a flail as she cleared a circle around her. Letting go of the sweeper, Marlowe sent him flying head-first through the windshield of one of the troop transports.
A Jumper approached and hovered just over her head. Soldiers leapt from either side of it, landing directly in front of her. She crouched, then sprung directly up, latching onto the strut of the Jumper. The pilot tried shaking her off with frantic, jerky movements. She climbed aboard and seized him by the hair, slamming his face into the console. Grabbing the pilot’s joystick and throttle, she shot the Jumper straight up. With a twist of the controls, she pitched the Jumper forward until it was pointed nearly straight down. She leapt out just before it crashed on the tank she was perched on earlier, taking out a dozen soldiers in the fiery explosion.
Marlowe landed, rolled forward, and then made a beeline for the corner of the intersection the garrison was blockading. She was relieved to see that she was right – an antique stop sign was still sitting there. Normally, she despised the kitschy callbacks to the so-called simpler times before the war, but this time, she was thankful for the nostalgia. She seized the post and plucked it from the ground, wielding the giant octagonal sign like Death’s scythe.
“Goddammit!” The captain barked over the loudspeaker. “Killjoys! Now!”
“Sir!” One of the soldiers could still be heard over the live mic. “Didn’t you read the brief? They don’t–”
“--Don’t question me, private!” the captain demanded. “Do it!”
Drones flew from the back of one of the United American State tanks and swarmed around Marlowe. High-voltage electrical shocks lanced from the drones’ terminals, attempting to tase her into submission.
Marlowe’s body flexed. Power surged through her. The pain was incredible, but did nothing to incapacitate her. Instead, a bellow erupted from her lungs as she swung the stop sign like a bat, connecting with the drones and sending them flying. One crashed through the windshield of a garrison truck. Electric shocks danced around the hovering transport, sending it lurching forward in a fury. It crashed into a throng of soldiers rushing toward Marlowe, mowing them down.
Marlowe leapt into the air with the stop sign, both hands clutching it like an axe. With immense fury, she brought it down on one of the soldiers, cleaving him down the middle. She swung the sign in an arc, blood spattering on the other soldiers as it slammed into another, slicing his armor through and leaving his guts spilling onto the road.
“Retreat!” One of the soldiers yelled. The others didn’t question. They turned as one and began running away.
“What are you doing!?” The captain screamed. “You have orders! GET her!”
Marlowe turned toward the captain’s vehicle. She sprinted forward, the concrete plug at the base of the stop sign in front of her like a jouster’s lance. The captain’s eyes widened. He ducked just as the post crashed through the driver’s-side window of his door.
Marlowe ripped the door off its hinge and sent it, along with the stop sign, flying behind her into two more soldiers she didn’t even realize were there. She yanked the captain out of his car by his boot. Clawing desperately at the seats, he emerged from the vehicle, and felt himself being whirled around as Marlowe spun him in a dizzying circle. She released, and the captain flew through the air into a Jumper that was attempting to join the fight. It didn’t succeed. Instead, the Jumper merged with the captain’s body, and the bloody amalgam crashed into the remaining tank, exploding in a brilliant, blue-orange electrical fireball.
Further chaos erupted as soldiers attempted to escape, while others wrestled with the prospect of imminent death. Several others had delusions of eternal WarFeed glory, imagining that they would be the hero who took down Marlowe. They formed a line and approached Marlowe, who turned to face them. She took a few steps forward and grabbed the stop sign still hanging from the captain’s car door. She held the door up with her left arm as a shield, and wielded the stop sign like a mace in her right. The soldiers froze. There was no entry in the field operations manual about door-and-stopsign-wielding augmented supersoldiers.
“Run, idiots!” One of the soldiers screamed as he broke rank and began sprinting down the road. Another took out a Pod, turned his back to Marlowe, and snapped a quick selfie – the photo captured the moment the stop sign connected with his helmet. The other soldiers tried to subdue Marlowe, but were cut down as she rammed the door into their heads and sliced them to pieces with her makeshift gladiatorial weapon.
Over ninety soldiers lay dead, burned and sliced and in parts and pieces, as cars and tanks and Jumpers burned around Marlowe. The remaining Jumper landed a few dozen yards away, and boarded the remaining soldiers who were smart enough to flee. Packed to the gills, it began to lift off. Marlowe thought briefly about letting them go.
She heaved the door at the Jumper, catching the tail stabilizer and sending it spinning as it lifted up. It tipped and crashed spectacularly, killing everyone inside.
The snow glowed orange and red and blue around Marlowe as fires burned and electrical showers erupted. What soldiers weren’t hacked to pieces or burned alive rolled in agony in a litany of broken bones, spines, and spirits. She stood holding the blood-drenched stop sign with her back arched and face toward the sky, heaving from exhaustion. Unclenching her fists, she let the makeshift weapon fall with a muffled thud into the streets, the classic red of the American stop sign blending with the blood-drenched snow. She leaned forward and put her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. She looked up at the truck as it slowly approached. She caught a glimpse of Poet’s gaping mouth and Jen’s widened eyes. For the first time in months, she smiled in genuine happiness.
”Truck door’s still back there,” she said through her panting, pointing toward the smoldering wreckage of the first Jumper she felled. “I don’t think it’s gonna go back on, though.”
“Probably not,” Poet said numbly from the window.
“You okay?” Jen asked across Poet from the passenger seat.
“Never better,” Marlowe replied. “Why are you still here?”
“You cut off our escape route,” Poet answered, pointing to the wreckage. “Besides, Nines wanted to get footage of–”
“–OH MY GOD, THAT WAS EPIC!" Nines screamed as she poked her head up from between Jen and Poet. “Look! I got some great footage!” She held the Pod’s screen up for Marlowe to see.
“Delete it,” Marlowe commanded briskly as she entered the truck and took a seat in the back.
“Too late!” Nines said as a small DING! chirped from the Pod’s speaker. “Already up to twenty-thousand views!” Marlowe sighed. “
Jen. Why didn’t you stop her?”
“What am I, her nanny? Besides, she won’t listen to me.”
“Because you’re dumb,” Nines said.
“You’re going to get us killed,” Marlowe said.
“I’m going to make us RICH!” Nines answered. “On-the-scene footage of Marlowe Kana destroying over a hundred soldiers? And it’s not from a soldier’s bodycam? Do you know how valuable this is?” “Not nearly as valuable as the footage that clears my name,” Marlowe said, leaning her head back against the headrest. “Why don’t you have that yet? And Poet, why are we not hauling ass to the EV plant?”
“Orders,” Poet responded. “The Judge just radioed. He’s inbound.”
“Oh, goody,” Marlowe replied. “We’ll just wait here while he comes to tour the damage. Hopefully the soldiers’ guns still don’t work when reinforcements arrive. And speaking of that. Anyone know why their rifles malfunctioned?”
“...Orders?” Poet said quizzically. “Maybe they were told not to shoot?”
"Definitely not,” Marlowe replied. “They were yanking triggers as hard as they could. Their weapons…somehow they malfunctioned.” Marlowe looked at Jen. “Did you…
” Jen shook her head. “Way above my level,” she answered as she glanced back at her sister. The two exchanged a look. Together, they both turned to face Nines.
“What?” Nines asked. “You think I hacked their weapons via a stupid handheld Pod connected to PublicNet? Come on…that kind of shit only happens in movies. OOH! Speaking of movies, check out this video I cut together while you were walking back to the truck!”
Nines held the Pod up toward Marlowe. Scenes from various soldiers’ body cameras flashed in quick succession, each one showing Marlowe smashing a fist, foot, or dislodged portion of a vehicle into them. Cut after cut of Marlowe’s face, fists, and feet flickered on the screen. “I scraped soldier Feeds while they were fighting you. Genius, right?” Another FeedMeter DING! sounded.
Marlowe shut her eyes and sighed as she shrunk back into her seat.
Nines looked crestfallen. “I know, you hate your own videos, but come on…I did this in less than a minute! I thought you’d be impressed!”
Marlowe groaned. She closed her eyes and rolled her head toward Nines. Her mouth gaped open and she began snoring.
“She’s shutting down,” Jen said. “Don’t take it personally.”
Reading the sadness that fell over Nines’ face, Jen softened. “Look, I’m sure she would, if she was able to. She’s completely drained. She can run on Battery bars, adrenaline, and AMP for only so long.” Jen chuckled as she added, “besides, I thought you didn’t like her. At least, that’s what you said at your place.” She winked and flashed a sarcastic smile at Nines.
Nines’ lip quivered. A tear rolled down her cheek. Suddenly, she flushed and her eyes narrowed. “I don’t!” Nines shouted at Jen. “I don’t like her! And I don’t like you! Either of you! And I don’t like this stupid truck. I don’t like anything, okay?! Leave me alone!”
Jen looked at Poet, who shrugged. Trying to make peace, she tapped the air a few times and pulled up Nine’s video on the MKFan_9999 channel. “Huh…this really is a good video, Nines. Good work.” “Fuck you, noob,” Nines said, arms folded over her chest as she stared out the window.
Poet couldn’t help but laugh.
A tone sounded in the cabin of the truck. “Go ahead,” Poet answered.
"We’re inbound," the Judge announced. "Please tell Marlowe not to throw a car door at us."
Poet looked in the rearview mirror to find Marlowe flopped across the back seat, mouth open, snoring. “That doesn’t seem to be a risk,” Poet responded.
Joe Peacock is an author, screenwriter, producer, web developer and culturenaut. His latest book is the start of the Marlowe Kana series, a three book, fifteen volume story borne of his love of cyberpunk, near future sci-fi, anime and vaporwave. 2017 has seen a massive resurgence of Peacock's work. He wrote and produced the critically-acclaimed documentary series Screenland (on Hulu and RedBull.TV), released the new Marlowe Kana series, and consulting on the new tour of the Art of Akira Exhibit (which he owns and curates). Previously, Peacock wrote two books of hyperbolic autobiography, both called Mentally Incontinent, and Everyone Deserves To Know What I Think, which collects from his work from CNN, Huffington Post, AOLNews, PC Magazine, and his blog. He also worked for Fark.com, which if you know what that is, I'm sure you're very impressed with.