Titans

by Niall Teasdale

  ‘Maybe organise some sort of scouting mission? Indian Point isn’t far away.’

  ‘That’s why I’m concerned. I’ll speak to Hart. I’ll see what he knows about Hartford while I’m at it.’

  From the way Faith said that, Mercy decided that she did not want to be in Hart’s combat boots right now. ‘Okay. Well, keep me posted.’

  ‘Oh, I will, I assure you.’

  22nd May.

  The president was not alone when Mercy returned the following Monday. There was a young woman leaning against the presidential desk looking confident and not like a typical resident of the NYA. For one thing, the clothes were not right. She was dressed in faded jeans that stopped just above heavy walking boots, and a padded vest, which looked like it should be a life preserver, that left her midriff on display. A belt was looped around her waist holding some sort of carrying pouch over her right thigh. She smiled as she watched Mercy walking into the room, her look appraising.

  ‘Mercy Garner,’ Faith said, ‘this is Mayra Millard. She’ll be taking you up to West Point to assess the situation there.’

  There was a lot to unpack in such a short sentence, so Mercy stared at the president for a second. Then she picked what she thought was the most important part to start. ‘So, I’m going to West Point?’

  ‘Hart claims that no one can be spared for recon. You’re the perfect choice. Mayra will take you there. Should take a couple of hours at most. Then you can check things out and translocate back.’

  ‘And what does Mayra do when I do that?’

  ‘Oh, I’m on my way out of town anyway,’ Mayra said. ‘I’m here to trade. Done that. I’m just doing Faith a favour on the way to my next stop.’

  ‘You’re a trader?’ Mercy asked. ‘You’re used to surviving outside the towns then.’

  ‘Mayra is what we call a Guide,’ Faith said. ‘She can sense storms and she has a built-in sense of where she is. Wave-powered GPS, if you like, which is useful because most other forms of navigation aid are unreliable to say the least.’

  ‘All the GPS satellites are gone.’

  ‘And compasses are pretty unreliable,’ Mayra added. ‘If you know the landmarks, those still work. Mostly.’

  ‘You’re a Titan then?’

  ‘Yes. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?’

  ‘Given that I’m one too, no.’

  ‘That’s not always a given. There are plenty of Titans who don’t get on with other Titans. Plenty of those are pretty violent about it too.’

  Mercy shrugged. ‘I’m only violent when I need to be.’

  Mayra flashed a grin. ‘Then I’ll try not to be too irritating.’

  ~~~

  Mayra had a tank. Well, not really a tank. Her transport was a reclaimed armoured troop carrier designed for police use in the early twenty-first century before police militarisation had been legislated against. It had been converted to run on biodiesel and most of the crew seats had been stripped out to provide more cargo space and living quarters while on the road. There was a single bunk welded into place in the back, indicating that Mayra was something of a loner, though she seemed personable enough.

  Mayra sat in a sort of cupola with a more or less sufficient field of vision, driving the eight-wheeled vehicle with practised ease. There was a second seat up front with a smaller viewing angle out through narrow, armoured-glass windows, which was where Mercy was sitting as they drove along what had once been the Palisades Interstate Parkway.

  Despite the urban nature of much of the state, the parkway had always looked relatively rural with trees to either side. Fifty years of neglect – admittedly on top of many years of slightly more solicitous neglect before that – had turned the entire thing into a ‘rural’ experience. The dividers had rusted away entirely in a lot of places; the tarmac was broken with grass and even bushes growing through it. It was still a fairly even surface to drive along, and the massive AV took it all in stride, helped by the fact that it had been designed to demolish makeshift barricades. The vehicle was a brick on wheels with the front planed off to form a wedge. Around it, additional defences took the form of barred grills bolted to the chassis so that those would hit before the armoured hull did. It was the perfect vehicle for the job.

  ‘So, this is what you do for a living?’ Mercy asked, mostly for something to say.

  ‘I reclaim lost resources,’ Mayra replied. ‘Or, if you want to put it more directly, I’m a scavenger. I head into unoccupied towns and cities, dig around, and then I take what I find to places like the NYA and trade them for things I need. Food and fuel, mostly.’

  ‘And you do favours for President Richard.’

  ‘She pays. Well, she compensates me for time spent or sponsors a trip when the NYA is going to get something out of it.’

  ‘What are you getting for this?’

  ‘Four days’ rations for a one-day job. What are you getting?’

  ‘Huh. The satisfaction of a job well done?’

  ‘You need to renegotiate your contract. Hey, you were a soldier, right? West Point was some sort of military academy. Did you–’

  Mercy shook her head. ‘West Point was Army. I was a Marine. And I was a pilot. Then an astronaut.’

  ‘You were aboard the Theia. I heard. And then someone had to explain what Theia was, but… You were really one of the first people to get hit by the Wave, huh? I just can’t fathom someone being out in space like that. Orbiting another world. I can’t even imagine orbiting this one.’

  ‘Well, we were, we did, and Theia is still up there, orbiting Earth and watching everything that’s going on down here.’

  ‘Seriously? She can see us from up there?’

  Mercy grinned. ‘Yes, and also no. If she could really see everything going on down here, you wouldn’t need to drive me up to the Point.’

  West Point.

  The view from Fort Putnam was not exactly clear, but it was good enough to give Mercy a sense of what Joe had seen from the air. The old fort was still standing, though the ancient artillery had been removed. Maybe someone somewhere was trying to get old black powder cannons working.

  The trees were in the way, but you could still see military vehicles parked up around the buildings below and people moving about in what looked like fatigues. It seemed likely that the uniforms and gear had been looted from an army base somewhere, but the details were difficult to make out even using the massive pair of binoculars Mayra had in her truck.

  ‘They’re up to something,’ Mayra opined from beside Mercy as they stood on one of the stone walls. ‘I mean, this isn’t exactly the best place to set up an enclave. There are hills all around here. This hill has fortifications on it, though not much storm cover.’

  ‘Yes, they’re up to something. It’s like they wanted to be hidden by the surrounding hills. If Joe hadn’t been flying over them, maybe we wouldn’t know they were here. But it’s a small force to try to take on the NYA. I’m not sure what they’re here for.’

  ‘Okay. What do you want to do about it?’

  Mercy considered her answer for a few seconds, continuing to watch someone working on the engine of a tank. A real tank with a serious main gun. ‘Would you be okay to stick around here until morning?’

  ‘Sure. If I’ve a reason to.’

  ‘When it gets dark, I’ll head down there and take a closer look.’ The small hairs on the back of Mercy’s neck started to rise and she stiffened.

  Mayra nodded. ‘Okay. Besides, there’s a storm coming.’

  ‘You feel that too? About an hour, you think?’

  ‘That sounds right.’ The trader seemed far too calm about it. ‘We should head back to the truck soon. I need to get the antennas down and stowed before it hits.’

  ‘We’re just going to wait it out in your AV?’

  ‘We’re both Titans. We should be good.’

  ~~~

  You could hear the wind whistling past the truck’s hull, though it was nowhere near as bad as the storm whic
h had hit New York. This was a much smaller storm. You could also hear the occasional crack of a lightning bolt striking home. None of these things were more concerning than the nauseous look on Mayra’s face.

  ‘We’ll be okay?’ Mercy asked. ‘You don’t look so good.’

  ‘It’s nothing. Really. Okay, so I feel like shit right now, but it’s just nausea and it comes and goes. Titans very rarely suffer actual harm in a Wave Storm, but we can feel sick. You’re not feeling it, are you?’

  ‘I feel fine.’

  ‘Huh. You’re a stronger Titan than I am. The stronger you are, the less likely you are to feel off. What can you do?’

  Mercy frowned. ‘Mostly, I can destroy stuff. There’s the teleporting, and the sensitivity to storms. I can also… see in some weird way by, I don’t know, sensing the matter around me. Aside from that, it’s all destruction.’ She picked up the wrapper of a cereal bar she had been eating and concentrated. There was a blue glow and then fragments of plastic were drifting to the floor of the truck and forming a pile in her palm.

  ‘Cool. The only offensive power I have is an enhanced punch. I punch someone, they go flying.’

  ‘Oh, I can do that one. To be honest, I’m not exactly sure I know everything I can do. It’s all been trial and error. I didn’t even think I’d been changed until we got back and someone attacked us. You’re a Titan, so, were you born before the Wave? I’m guessing not since you don’t know about the Point.’

  Mayra shook her head. ‘Born in seventeen.’

  ‘Still, you don’t look thirty-four.’

  In fact, Mayra looked to be in her twenties. She was an attractive woman with light-brown skin, a lot of black hair which fell to her shoulders, and very dark eyes. She had high, arched eyebrows and her eyes had a slight angle to them which added an exotic touch to her face. Her lips were quite full with a pronounced curve, and her nose was petite. She was fit, slim, with quite long legs and smallish, pointed breasts sitting under that vest of hers. Her lifestyle could not be an easy one, but it had not affected her looks.

  ‘I’m a strong enough Titan that I age slower, yeah.’ Mayra waved a hand at Mercy. ‘Is that one of Zuri’s designs?’

  Mercy looked down at her outfit. She had dispensed with the coat while they were in the truck, but the rest of it was still there. ‘Yes. You know Zuri?’

  ‘Sure. I get her some of her cloth. Keep an eye out for it whenever I’m in a city. There’s still plenty to scavenge if you know where to look. Got her some just about pristine denim this time around. I spent the weekend with her.’

  ‘Oh. Nice.’ So, Zuri was definitely into girls, and she had one in the form of Mayra. Mercy hid her disappointment behind a smile. ‘I’ll have to drop by the shop and see if she’s anything new in.’

  ‘Also nice. Having a patron who’s a powerful Titan can be good publicity. You wearing her outfits will bring in trade.’

  ‘Well, good. She deserves it. I’m not sure I’m exactly famous yet, but…’ Mercy looked upward. ‘When will this end?’

  ‘No way to tell,’ Mayra replied. ‘That’s the thing about Wave Storms, they’re unpredictable. I wonder whether that group down in town have a sensitive. If not, you might be seeing a lot of dead bodies when you go in.’

  Mercy grimaced. ‘Well, that’s something to look forward to.’

  23rd May.

  Mercy appeared in one of the vehicle parks, screened by armoured vehicles of various types, and immediately checked her surroundings. No guards, and no one was secretly smoking out of sight of their commanding officer. Then again, Mercy was not entirely sure there were cigarettes anywhere to be found in the former US, and if they could be, whether they would be fit to smoke. She had no idea what the shelf-life of a pack was, but she doubted it would be longer than a year or two before all they would be good for was kindling.

  It was basically pitch black at two in the morning. There was some light from the crescent moon, but it was low in the sky and not especially bright. Mercy was forced to use her spatial sense, which worried her a little because she knew it made her eyes glow. In fact, the blue glow from her eyes was giving the moon a run for its money, at least close up; she could see her hands in the light from her own eyes. Still, every little helped. She began looking over the vehicles.

  Mostly, they were armoured transports, but they were up-to-date vehicles – for fifty years ago – converted to run on something other than diesel. She located two with light cannons mounted on turrets, but her survey was far from complete, so she suspected there were more. In all cases, it looked as though the electronics had survived the wave; the interiors of the vehicles looked complete, so everything had been EMP-shielded.

  More concerning than the troop carriers were the tanks. There were five of them and they were all M1A5 Abrams equipped with mini-fusion power systems. At least these were the early models without the railgun. Still, the 140-mm main gun was a nasty piece of equipment. The armour was the latest spec with electromagnetic, anti-shaped-charge plating. These were serious weapons, apparently intact which someone had found and dug out of whatever location they had been hidden in before the Wave. That would probably have required inside knowledge, someone in the military and fairly high-ranking. Or maybe just a grunt who had helped to move the gear.

  It was nothing conclusive, but it was worrying. Mercy needed to find out more, so she headed for the buildings which had once housed the United States Military Academy.

  The first interesting titbit was that they were using three of the barracks buildings to house their people. That put the total contingent at around a thousand, probably plus officers. There were lights on at the commandant’s quarters, which suggested someone important was living there.

  There were also a few lights showing and guards placed outside Taylor Hall, which had been an administrative building back when this place had educated young men and women. The guards were not an issue: Mercy found an empty room inside and translocated into it. Then, keeping as quiet as possible and watching for interior guards, she explored the building. They were using it for offices and meeting space from the look of things. She found maps of the area with Indian Point and Hartford highlighted. Oddly, there was also a marker on several of the maps highlighting Danbury, Connecticut. Joe had been over that area and seen nothing of note, but this lot seemed interested in it.

  Aside from that, everything seemed pretty mundane. Most of the paperwork in the building seemed to be people keeping track of inventory or operations within the group. She found nothing to indicate who they were, but there was an oddity she found on a few letters and reports. The group had a commanding officer with the title of general: Hoyt Ashworth. His name appeared in various documents. There was also an unnamed general referred to in various places. In fact, he was just ‘the general’ in most of the instances he was mentioned at all. Someone was directing these men but not a direct part of their chain of command. A mysterious patron. What were this lot up to?

  ~~~

  ‘Where are you headed from here?’ Mercy asked as she prepared to leave.

  Grinning, Mayra tapped her nose. ‘It’s a secret. I’d tell you, but then I’d have to try to kill you.’

  ‘Try to?’

  ‘Well, given your powers and mine, I think it would be pretty futile. And if you’re as powerful as you seem to be, even killing you might not kill you.’

  Mercy frowned at her. ‘That made no sense.’

  ‘There are known incidents where a powerful Titan has come back to life after apparently dying. Even the lesser ones don’t die easily. You’d pulverise me.’

  ‘Oh, well, let’s avoid circumstances where I might have to. I won’t press you about your destination.’

  ‘Thanks. Dying would really put a crimp in my day. I guess I’ll probably see you again next time I’m in town.’

  ‘Probably. See you again, Mayra.’

  ‘Bye, M–’ Mayra shook her head. She was talking to fresh air.

  New York Autho
rity.

  ‘A thousand men with heavy, modern weapons?’ Faith asked. ‘What are they doing up there?’

  ‘The available information is inconclusive,’ Mercy replied.

  ‘They’re mercenaries,’ Hart said. ‘I doubt there’s reason to be concerned over them. We may see their CO turning up to offer their services at some point.’

  ‘That’s… not impossible,’ Mercy conceded. She thought Hart was being too blasé about the situation, but it was possible that he was right. ‘The maps showing an interest in Danbury made me wonder. It’s about halfway between Indian Point and Hartford. Far enough from either to go unnoticed and closer to where the Damned Ones are occupying.’

  ‘And?’ Hart asked.

  ‘I was wondering whether they might be planning to attack the Damned Ones.’

  ‘Oh. That would be…’

  ‘Stupid,’ Faith said. ‘They’d be massively outnumbered, attacking an entrenched position. Even with tanks and AVs, I wouldn’t give much for their chances.’ She frowned. ‘I suppose it’s possible that someone the Damned Ones have hurt is looking for revenge. Hell, I want revenge on the bastards. I’m not planning to get a lot of my people killed doing it, however.’

  ‘What do you want to do about West Point?’ Hart asked.

  Faith chewed her lower lip for a second. ‘Nothing. Put Indian Point on a higher alert state, but we do nothing active. We’ve no proof that they’re up to anything bad and attacking them would just cost lives. We wait and watch. For now.’

  Part Four: War and Power

  Airborne over Danbury, CT, 4th June 2152.

  It was a blazing hot Sunday morning, but at two thousand metres the air was cool enough that Joe was not bothered by the heat baking the ground below. He could well believe that global warming had not declined much during their time in stasis. A trip out in the open air had seemed like a good idea and, if he was lucky, he could persuade Sophia to indulge in a little sweaty activity when he got back.