Sandra and Mouse dead in blast destroying cyborg manufacturing unit in basement of pyramid. Extensive damage to entire pyramid. Emperor moved to secure bunker in Albany. Pilgrim Nuclear Generating Station severely damaged by explosions. No word on where White Warrior is or status. Emperor furious. Enemy soldiers on move to Laredo.
The aide stood quietly by his side, waiting for instructions. The general struggled to control his emotions. At least two more brave martyrs for the cause, he thought as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Like just about everyone in the White Warriors brigade, he had come to respect and admire Sandra. And Claudette was one of the best spies ever sent into the emperor’s lair. He bowed his head in prayer for their souls. He wondered about Brogan, but he hoped no news was good news. He started to speak to the aide, but he had to clear his throat first. “Convey this message to all the rebels via their radios:
It is with great sorrow I report Sandra Bernhardt, White Warrior extraordinaire, and Claudette Burns, outstanding covert rebel spy, died in the line of duty destroying the emperor’s cyborg manufacturing units. May God have mercy on their souls. And may each one of us hope to someday match their exemplary sacrifices in service to our country.”
The aide saluted and left to carry out the general’s orders. Alone, the general wept.
Chapter Fifteen
Kaboom
The force of the explosion at the nuclear station knocked them all off their feet, even the cyborg. Before the cyborg struggled to its feet, Mac quickly scrambled over and pulled the electrical connection from the energy pack connected to the back of its head. With a crackle and a spasm, the huge cyborg went still.
“Quick thinking, Mac,” Brogan exclaimed as she got to her feet, reaching to help Herbert up and putting her cap back on, which had fallen off as she hit the ground. “Fortunate for us those cyborgs apparently have a hard time getting up once they are knocked down. Now, what are we going to do with it? We can’t leave it out in the open for someone to plug it back in.”
Although it took the efforts of all three of them, they finally managed to drag the seven-foot-tall, very heavy cyborg into the trees, where they covered it with underbrush. Mac pulled off the cyborg’s energy pack, quickly burying it in some loose soil several yards away.
“Don’t want someone plugging the thing back in,” Mac said grimly.
Dr. Schneider buried his imperial uniform with the energy pack, pulling on an old tunic from his backpack. The three of them finally turned and looked down at the mess of the nuclear station, smoke and steam still billowing from the site.
“We need to go down there and make sure we really destroyed it,” Schneider said, as he started toward the plant.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Brogan said as she grabbed his arm. “I don’t know a lot about nuclear energy, but I’m guessing we better not go anywhere near that stuff for fear of radiation contamination. We better get out of here. I’m guessing the emperor is not going to be very happy when he finds out what happened.”
“A bit of an understatement,” Mac said with his trademark grin. “I agree. Let’s get out of here.”
Fortunately, they brought the van out to the viewing site, so the three of them piled in and headed away from the nuclear station. The only road into the station was unpaved and very bumpy, so it was slow going. They were almost back to the main road when they heard Herbert stammer and point ahead of them, “I don-n-n’t thin-n-k that’s a good sign.”
In front of them sat a large military tank, blocking the road. The vehicle had four huge double tires on each side and an armor piercing laser gun mounted on top of the solid, wedge-shaped body. As they watched, the bottom of the front end opened and a small robot, with what appeared to be a laser rifle mounted on top, rolled down a ramp headed for them.
“I’d say that is another understatement, Dr. Schneider,” Mac said nonchalantly. “Brogan, why don’t you come over here and sit in my seat. I’m going to play with some of my toys in the back of the van.”
“Call me, Herbert,” the older man called to Mac as he scrambled into the back. Brogan carefully moved into the front seat beside Herbert, programming the robo-van down to a slower pace to hopefully give Mac time to do whatever he planned to do.
After some noisy tinkering, he said, “Okay, I’m ready. When I say, ‘jump,’ the two of you jump out of the van with your backpacks and head for those trees over there.”
Mac now moved into the front, scrunched in between them.
“Jump!” he yelled.
By now, the van barely moved. Herbert and Brogan jumped out of the van and sprinted toward the trees on the left. The van started to speed up, Mac jumped out of the back, rolling on the road and then springing to his feet, sprinting after them.
The soldiers in the tank poked their heads out of a slit in the top, curiously watching what was happening from their vantage point. As the three started running toward the trees, the laser gun on top swiveled in their direction. But before the gun started firing, the van suddenly picked up speed, obviously headed right for the tank. The gun turned toward the van and began shooting. At the same time, the three rebels reached the tree line and the van rolled over the robot, up the ramp and into the front of the tank, gloriously exploding into a huge fireball. Too late, the soldiers were caught in the blast. They had no time to react or even to scream.
“Wow!” was all Brogan said as they watched the huge tank catch fire and explode, bouncing into the air and coming down on its side, its tires slowly spinning in the air.
“Is that all you can say?” Mac asked with a grin.
Herbert had nothing to say. He plopped down on the ground, stunned, watching the fireworks. Little did he know when the emperor dragged him into this mess, not only would he be joining Book Liberators, but he would be a part of something like this. Suddenly it was all too much. As the wind blew the smell of burning flesh to them, he leaned over and vomited. Brogan pulled a cloth from her tunic and handed it to the little man who now looked ashamed of his reaction.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, Herbert. Every soldier reacts in the same way the first time they see or smell death. If you don’t feel anything at all you should begin to worry; then you become callused. Believe me, I know,” she said softly.
Mac looked at her. There was more to her comment than she said, but it was not his place to ask. Even though about the same age, he figured she had experienced more horror and death than he had. He shivered at the thought. He didn’t envy her the hard life she had. He heard the rumors. Maybe the legends of the White Warrior were not exaggerated.
“Okay, White Warrior,” he asked, “Where do we go from here, madam?”
Herbert looked up at Brogan, startled, his mouth open. It was the first time he heard her rebel name or knew for sure it was a woman he talked to.
“Well, Mac, since you just blew up our transportation, I guess we need to hoof it out of here,” she said with a fake scowl on her face.
Mac started laughing. “Never heard the expression before, but if it means we need to walk, I must say, your powers of observation, oh fearless leader, are absolutely astonishing.”
Even Herbert grinned at Mac’s comments. The three fugitives started walking west, staying close to the tree line, figuring it would not be long before more soldiers arrived. Where one tank was, more couldn’t be far behind. After a couple of hours of walking, they could feel the ground began to vibrate.
“Quick, into the trees!” Brogan shouted, as she began to run. She knew from experience what the vibrations of a battalion of tanks felt like. The trio easily melted into the camouflage of the trees and hugged the ground among the bushes as they waited and watched. Sure enough. More of the emperor’s tanks rumbled by, headed north. The tank Mac destroyed must have been a scout tank. Brogan recalled one of the BL rebels saying a tank training ground was located somewhere near where they were.
The noise of the tanks was loud, so they could quietly talk about their next moves. No way they cou
ld head south; too much of the area was a nuclear wasteland from WWIII. They had no boat, so even though Brogan knew a way to disarm the laser fence on the coastline, it wouldn’t do them any good without a boat. North meant returning to Boston, an area crawling with the emperor’s soldiers, undoubtedly on high alert after the nuclear station explosion. No word on how Mouse and Sandra’s assignment went, but if they succeeded, the emperor’s fury would be off the charts. So, it seemed like heading west was there only option.
But Brogan wasn’t sure Herbert was up to a rugged walking trip. He appeared to have spent most of his life indoors.
“How about we head west and see if we can find a BL rebel group to help us?” Brogan asked to motivate discussion. “Herbert, you might want to hide out with them. Mac, I don’t know what you want to do, but I need to return to Texas and join up with rebel forces. I also need to get a message to the general as soon as I can.”
Mac didn’t even give it a second thought. “Nothing and no one left in the Boston area. If it is okay with you, I want to go with you to Texas. Your general might need an explosives expert. If you don’t mind some company on the road.”
“You think you can keep up, Mr. Kaboosh?” Brogan asked with a grin.
“Hey, don’t I get a say?” Herbert interrupted. “You can’t just decide for me. I want to join the rebel army, too.”
Brogan looked over at the little man in surprise. He was indignant. Had she underestimated him?
“Are you sure, Herbert? It won’t be an easy trip. And you don’t exactly look like you’ve done a lot of hard physical labor in your life.”
“No, I haven’t, but maybe it’s time I did. Besides, I can contribute something to the rebels. I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines. After what the emperor tried to make me do, I want to help stop him. If nothing else, I know a bit about electronics.”
Brogan and Mac looked at each other. Who were they to stop him from joining their little band of rebels? The three shook hands and contentedly waited for the tanks to finish rumbling by, a two-hour process. After they passed, the trio stood up and headed west. Fortunately, the area was lush with tree growth; they easily disappeared into the trees if they saw or heard anything threatening. Brogan’s eidetic memory called up a map of Massachusetts and she recalled a village called Springfield, directly west of the Pilgrim Nuclear Station. The only problem? It was over 125 miles away, with no rail lines so they were unable to hitch a train ride. Hopefully, there were some small hamlets where they might find some rebels, otherwise it was going to be a long walk.
They walked for a couple of hours before they came across a tiny farm. It seemed to be unoccupied, with an overgrown garden. Farming in the New York Province was rare, since most produce was grown under the Chicago Province domes and disbursed by the extensive rail system. The New York Province included the former states of Pennsylvania, upstate New York, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Maine.
Sometimes individuals across the empire planted gardens to supply vegetables for their family, hoping the government didn’t notice and tax them for what they produced. With the rebels sabotaging the rails, less and less produce was making it to urban areas, so families often tried to supplement their diets by growing their own food. It was either that or starve. The extremely cold climate nine months of the year also meant food shipments were only possible three months of the year.
Brogan motioned Max and Herbert to go around the back of the farmhouse while she boldly walked up to the front door and knocked, her laser rifle casually slung across her front. It was an old two-story house with unpainted wooden slats on the outside and a metal roof covered with solar panels. The house sat on a concrete slab and tilted slightly to the right. Cobwebs hung from the rafters and across the tiny windows. She doubted anyone had lived here in a while. When no one answered her knock, she tried the knob. Locked. She thought about going around back, when the door suddenly opened, a grinning Mac looking at her.
“So now you are breaking into people’s homes?” she asked facetiously.
“Nah,” he replied. “The back door was unlocked, so I just walked in.”
Herbert looked around Mac. “Come on in, Herbert and White Warrior. It’s not much, but it will give us some shelter.”
“And stop calling me White Warrior!” Brogan sputtered. “Call me Brogan. I feel ridiculous when you call me the White Warrior.”
She stepped into the house. A dusty, stale smell greeted her, but the inside was relatively clean. Apparently, the residents did not leave suddenly, but planned their departure, probably some time ago. Everything was neatly put away but covered with a thin layer of dust.
“Mac, why don’t you check out the upstairs? I’ll see if there is a basement and check out the barn. Herbert, see if you can find a food synthesizer or any food in the cupboards, and look for some electronics so I can contact the general.”
After their explorations, they met in the tidy little kitchen to report. Mac said there were two bedrooms upstairs, with body-molding beds, but no linens. Water worked in the bathroom and kitchen. The solar battery behind the house was fully charged. Brogan found among the weeds in the garden an array of vegetables and in the barn several eggs from some uncaged chickens. She also discovered an old solar-powered quadricycle they might be able to use. Herbert said the food synthesizer had no food in it.
“But, I found an old vid-phone in the downstairs bedroom, hidden under one of the beds. Can you believe it?” Herbert said excitedly. “I am charging it right now. It should be ready in about an hour. There are a few packets of food in the cupboards, some pans and dishes we can use.”
“Fantastic!” Brogan replied. “Anybody know how to cook? I’m a terrible cook, but I can throw some eggs in a skillet if nothing else.”
“Well, my lady,” Mac said with a bow, “It just so happens I make an excellent omelet, so I’ll assume responsibility for dinner.”
While Mac cooked on a solar-powered stove, Brogan impatiently waited for the vid-phone to charge. Herbert tinkered with an old computer Mac uncovered in a closet in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Soon delicious smells of omelets filled the old farmhouse. Brogan did not realize how hungry she was and promptly forgot about the vid-phone.
“Herbert!” she yelled up the stairs, “Time to eat.”
The three sat down at the old wooden table near the kitchen. There wasn’t a lot of talking as the three dug into delicious omelets. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast, with only a protein bar during their hike from the nuclear station. After they cleaned their plates, they sat back in their chairs contentedly.
“I don’t know about you guys,” Brogan groaned, “But that was probably the best omelet I’ve ever tasted.”
She looked over at Mac. “You keep cooking like that and I’ll hire you as my personal chef.”
“Your wish is my command, me lady,” he said with a bow as he stood to transfer dinner plates into the old-fashioned sink.
Brogan stood up, too. “On one condition. You cook. I clean.”
“You’ll hear no objection from me,” Mac said. “Herbert, why don’t you come with me and let’s see if we can tinker the old quadricycle into working order while the lady handles the woman’s work?”
Laughing, Brogan threw an old rag at his back as his marched with Herbert out of the kitchen. A full stomach and moments of happiness felt good. She turned to the sink and waited while it slowly filled with water, her thoughts going to her father and daughter in Cosala. It didn’t take long to wash the few dishes, using remains of a soap pod she found under the sink, and leave them to dry on the counter. She went upstairs and threw her backpack on the bed in the smallest bedroom, leaving the larger bedroom for Mac. A lumpy couch in the living room area she figured was the right size for Herbert to sleep on.
She went into the bathroom and checked out the old shower. It worked, even though the hot water was turned off. Closing the door, she stripped out of her jumpsuit and the amour suit underneath, stepping
into the cold water. After her body adjusted to the temperature, it was refreshing. She used a sliver of soap in the soap dish to wash with. She was shivering by the time she rinsed off. Until she stepped out of the shower, she did not realize she had no towels. Using her hands, she wiped off as much water as she could and used her jumpsuit to finish drying off. She put the armor back on and walked back into the bedroom, knocking her backpack on to the floor off the bed. Before she laid down, she pulled out the collapsible laser rifle and laid it near her. She thought she would rest for a moment.
The next thing she knew, daylight shone in her eyes from the tiny window in the bedroom. She smelled something wonderful cooking. She stretched luxuriously. It had been a long time since she had a full night’s sleep. It felt good. Her jumpsuit, which she laid over the footboard of the bed to dry, was wrinkled but serviceable, so she put it on. She ran down the stairs two at a time to the kitchen. Mac had just finished scrambling eggs with a few vegetables from the garden thrown in. Herbert still fiddled with the computer.
“Good morning, Brogan. Hope you slept well. You’re just in time for breakfast.”
Since she removed all the makeup she used to give her a male appearance, Mac saw what a beautiful woman she was, and obviously, her breasts were no longer bound. He grinned in appreciation at the sight.
“I did, thank-you. Smells delicious. Sorry about deserting you last night. I intended only to rest, but I guess I really zonked out.” She thought she knew what the silly grin on Mac’s face meant. Although flattered, she decided to ignore it and him.
“No problem. Herbert and I got the quadricycle into working order. Its solar batteries have been charging since the sun came up. We now have some transportation. It should be charged enough for us to start after breakfast. It can finish charging while we are on the road, just from energy generated by our pedaling.”
The Slave Warrior Page 13