by Alice Sabo
Nick searched the soldier’s face, finding a slight grin and a twinkle in his eye that told Nick this whole set up might be a sham. Not sure of the sides or the players, he held out a hand. “I’m Nick.”
“Miles.” The soldier gave him a solid handshake before escorting Nick back the way they’d come.
“Are they all completely useless?” Nick grumbled.
Miles snorted, turning it into a cough. He cleared his throat. “That’s above my pay grade.”
Nick knew it was supposed to be a joke, but the reference to a paycheck filled him with such aching nostalgia that he couldn’t conjure up any response. He put a hand on the soldier’s arm, making him stop. “What do they expect me to do here?”
Miles looked around. “Push papers? Write up reports?”
“You don’t know what they do here?”
“I’m just a guard on the door.”
“Keeping them in?”
Miles grinned. “I just follow orders.”
Nick examined the uniform. “Army?”
“We’re all National Guard now.”
The uniform wasn’t for the pre-Zero Year National Guard, but if that’s what they wanted to call themselves, Nick would keep his opinions to himself. The fact that this group had uniforms told him they were, at the very least, larger than High Meadow’s Watch. He’d seen some rank on sleeves, which said they were organized. Friend or foe in this situation was hard to sort out.
Nick looked over to where Parsons stood with Nadine and Arnold. “And what if we don’t want to write reports?”
“Then I guess you get shipped out to the factories.”
Nick thought about that for a moment. Maybe that would be a better place to get a good overview of what was going on. “Who makes the real decisions around here?”
Miles winked. “I’ll pass that up the line and get back to you.”
Chapter 40
“We cannot teach what we do not know. There was a rumor of a type of biobot called a Font because they contained such a wealth of knowledge. They would be a priceless resource at this time.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
WISP STOOD IN HIP HIGH grass around the back of the barn. Mist curled up from the ground sending tendrils through the trees, faint in the intermittent moonlight. The rain had finally slacked off, but a damp chill permeated the air. He was glad for his wool sweater. The others were setting up camp in a corner of the barn. He moved away from them to check the surroundings.
Nothing but the small flickers of animal minds in the near vicinity. Mice, maybe rabbits, scampered away from the unaccustomed sound and smell of humans. This barn must have been abandoned for awhile. Although he wasn’t sure about the length of memory for rodents, the tall grass blocking the entrance assured him it’d been a long time since people had been here.
The fields around him were losing the fight against encroaching saplings and weeds. In the morning, he’d check the area for any crops that survived. Gather any seeds that seemed useful. Maybe dig up some plants. Even if High Meadow didn’t need it, they could use it as barter.
He reached out once more for Nick. There had been a point today when he’d gotten worried. Nick had gone from anger to dread. Wisp left the van to concentrate on him but hadn’t gotten much more than that, but the dread had dwindled back into anger. They were still about three days out depending on the roads. He needed to know what kind of situation Nick was in. Right now, Nick felt like he was resting. He seemed somewhat content.
Wisp turned his mind toward his companions. Ted was uneasy. Nixie felt impatient. She had spent the day in silence, assessing the people and their relationships. There was a lot more to her than Wisp had originally assumed. Clay and Darrell had the feeling of old friends in familiar situations. Istvan fretted about his daughter with little thought of the mission. Everett was examining the barn, more interested in finding tools than making conversation. They were a disparate bunch that had not bonded yet.
The hinges creaked as someone left the barn . Ted approached hesitantly. “Am I disturbing you?” he whispered.
“No. I’m done.”
“Has the rain stopped?” he asked peering up at the dripping canopy.
“For the moment.”
Ted’s curiosity spiked. “Can you feel weather?”
Wisp scanned the skies. “Just the big storms. They give me a headache.”
“Nothing coming, I hope.”
“Not that I can feel. But the clouds say this might just be a short break.”
Ted nodded solemnly. “This is strange weather. What do you think it means?”
“That we need to adapt. We got used to the heat and super storms. Now we need to expect other things.”
“How will it impact High Meadow?”
“They will adapt also. Angus is smart. They have Fonts to guide and teach. They have strong hands and access to plenty of materials. They will build or devise new methods.”
“I would hate for them to lose the crops. It’s such a treat to have fresh food.”
“There is food everywhere. It’s too dark to forage now, but in the morning I’ll show you how to find it.”
“I would like that,” Ted said. “Would it be all right to bring Nixie?”
“Of course.”
“How’s Nick doing?”
“Resting.”
“Ah.” Ted ripped the tassels off a handful of grasses, shredding them in his hand.
“What are you seeking Ted?” Wisp asked in a soft voice.
“I don’t know. Can you feel...can you tell if there are any children around?”
“Just animals.”
“Can you keep an eye out for them? Or a thought, I guess?”
“I can try when we stop, but it isn’t easy to do in an enclosed vehicle with that many people so close to me.”
“Right. Sorry. I’m just used to moving slower. Kids would find me. I’m not sure how.”
“There’s a grapevine. I’d heard about Uncle Ted. Didn’t realize it was you, or I would have tracked you down to check on you. People meet, exchange information. Little ones hook up with older ones. They avoid the settlements and end up using similar camps. We can send out the word that you’re at High Meadow now.”
“No. That might be too far for some of them.”
“So you want to trek the country looking for lost children?”
“They are our future,” Ted said with an aching passion. “They are precious.”
Wisp could feel the solid conviction in his brother. “I think that Angus would agree with you. You should talk to Istvan. He and his family are Travelers. They cross the country every year. He could give you routes. Angus would give you gear I think.”
“Yes. That’s what I need to do.”
The scent of dinner wafted by them on an errant breeze. Wisp reached over to squeeze Ted’s shoulder. “It’s good to know what to do.”
Chapter 41
“We were forced into self-sufficiency by a series of dire events and increasing neglect by the remnants of the government. If the population ultimately devolves into tribes, they will resist any reintroduction of the old order.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
AFTER A GREASY DINNER and an uncomfortable night in a cramped room down in a cold basement, Nick was reunited with his fellow captives and team of guards. Nick followed Parsons through a whirlwind orientation with Nadine and Arnold. He gave them a brief tour of the offices, cafeteria and a peek at the upper echelon’s private quarters. Then they were taken back to a conference room with Miles, armed and alert, trailing along after them. Parsons accepted a tablet from a woman who looked near exhaustion. She scooted away down the hall before anyone could say a word.
“Right,” Parsons said as he flipped through a few pages. “Looks like you’ll be in statistics, Arnie.”
“Arnold,” Nick corrected, seeing the slender man wince at the nickname.
“Right,” Parsons pointed back the way they’d co
me. “Third floor, check with the receptionist. She knows you’re coming.”
Arnold hesitated looking to Nick.
“Is that what you want to do?” Nick asked.
“Very much so,” Arnold replied in his soft-spoken manner. “But I wanted to thank you for being so civil the other night. I was so afraid, and you made it more civilized.” He leaned in to add, “I know this isn’t what it seems, but it’s out of the weather, and food is plentiful.”
Nick shook his hand. “I hope things work out for you. Good luck.”
“Yes, well, that’s all very sweet,” Parsons snarled. “Off you go Arnie.” He grabbed Arnold’s arm yanking him toward the door, then turned his back, expecting to be obeyed. “Nadine, you are going to the secretarial pool.”
“What?” She glared at him. “What century is this?”
“Things have changed,” Parsons said, a taunting smirk on his fat lips. “We all have to do our part.”
“What if I don’t want to do that?”
Parsons made a point of taking a long look at her body, eyes running from her face to her breasts, to her legs. “I’m sure there are other things you can do.”
Nick moved between her and Parsons. “And me?”
“Janitorial,” Parsons said with a satisfied sneer. “Always need someone to clean the toilets.” He flipped a hand at Miles. “Escort them to their proper places.” He marched off without a backward look, missing the cold glare the soldier directed at him.
Miles hadn’t moved since he entered the room. Nick waited a few heartbeats to see if Parsons or anyone else would check on them before speaking. “Any word from up the line?”
“Yup,” Miles said with a grin. “The General is very interested in meeting you.”
“The General?”
“That’s what we call him,” Miles said, not giving Nick an ounce more of information.
“What about Nadine?”
“She can come, too.” Miles checked the hallway before beckoning them out.
“You have a lot of folks that don’t want to stay?” Nick asked.
“A few kick up a storm. They get shipped out pretty quick.”
“To where?”
Miles snorted. “Don’t know. Don’t care,” he said in perfect imitation of Parsons. He led them back to the elevator and then out through the lobby.
Nick had expected to get on a train, but they were loaded into another of the ubiquitous black vans with another pair of guards in tan fatigues. Miles drove through a misty afternoon. The highway he took was in good condition. The sides of the road showed signs of tree-trimming. Nick had a million questions but kept his mouth shut until he had a better handle on the situation. Miles wasn’t giving out any information anyway. They stopped for a quick lunch of packaged food. Nadine commented that it was neither Stew-goo nor Crunch.
“Perks of the job,” Miles said happily.
Just as the sun was setting in an overcast sky, they arrived at a fort. Nick had no other word for it. A high wall topped with razor wire circled a squat building that looked like a modified castle. Miles drove up to a guard station manned with armed soldiers. After he flashed an ID, a steel gate slid open giving them access.
Miles left Nick and Nadine in an unfurnished anteroom that felt a little too much like a cell for Nick’s liking. They were told that it was too late to see the General, so they were escorted to the mess hall for a forgettable meal that resembled Stew-goo. Miles then took them to a long room of empty bunk beds where they spent the night.
Nick couldn’t sleep thinking about the ramifications of the president’s plans. Reestablishing the state governments was foolish at this point. There weren’t any states. The country had degenerated to tribes and clans scratching out a living as best they could. They needed to fix the roads and hand out seed. Or was he thinking too small? Could there be a longer view where any of that made sense? It all seemed like an absurdist play. They needed to go after the raiders, stop the pressgangs and make travel safer. His mind pinballed through dozens of plans and scenarios until sleep finally overcame him.
Miles came for Nick first thing the next morning. Nick was awake and had already washed up as best he could in the small lavatory attached to the bunk room. His jeans were still muddy, and his sweatshirt was the worse for wear. Nadine gave him a wave, then went back to sleep.
“General said he’d see you over breakfast,” Miles said as he led him down the hall.
“Great.” Nick memorized the passages as they moved deeper into the building. Although he expected to head back to the mess hall, Miles took him through a maze of corridors to a private dining room. It held a dozen small tables, each set for four, with a handful occupied. In the back corner, a tall, solidly built man sat at a table by himself. He had blond hair in a buzz cut and a military manner. Miles led Nick over.
“Sir, this is the man I told you about,” Miles said, his tone respectful.
Piercing blue eyes assessed Nick. It reminded him of Wisp with his penetrating gaze. When the man stood, he had an inch or two on Nick. “Washburn,” he said offering his hand.
“Nick.”
Washburn pointed to the chair opposite him. “Please. Miles are you joining us?”
“No sir. Got to get back to babysitting.” Miles left without saluting.
Nick turned to the General, waiting for the reprimand.
Washburn grinned at him. “Not what you were expecting?”
“Are you The General?”
He waved at a server. “That’s what the men like to call me. I’m just the guy that can think a couple moves ahead.”
“Oh.” Nick wanted to like this man. He hoped to find someone who knew what they were doing and had a clear vision for the future. The steely blue eyes said his self-deprecating manner was a facade, which put Nick on alert. “A couple moves ahead of what?”
Washburn gave him a placid smile. “Life. Keeps serving up disasters doesn’t it?”
“That it does,” he agreed.
“We have to have a plan. Can’t keep reacting, gotta start acting.”
It sounded like propaganda to Nick, but he nodded thoughtfully as if he’d heard it for the first time. “Did you shut down the trains?”
“No. I don’t have that authority.”
“Who does?”
The General waited until two plates of food had been brought over, their coffee poured and water glasses filled. “Who are you, and why do you care?”
Nick fought the simmering anger that burned through his chest. He wanted to grab this joker by the neck and shake him until he got the answers he needed, but he was smarter than that. He took a long drink of water to calm himself. “I’m a citizen who wants to know why my life is being made more difficult.”
Washburn sipped black coffee from a thick, white ceramic mug. “Understood. However, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t something more than a citizen.”
Nick had to acknowledge that if the roles were reversed, he’d want more information. “Ran into an old colleague. Worked FBI. I guess he thought I’d want to be up there with them writing reports.”
Washburn snickered. “Bunch of toothless old dogs.” He beckoned for Nick to continue. “So what are you looking for?”
“My settlement is trying to become self-sufficient. I think we are a bit more forward thinking than some. However, we still rely on the few services that the government supplies: trains, weather forecasting, vaccines, train food.” He met Washburn’s intense gaze. “Why is it gone? Who shut down the trains? Why are there pressgangs stealing adults and abandoning children.”
“Pressgangs?” Washburn pushed out his lower lip. “Where did you hear that?”
“When I was kidnapped,” Nick snapped. “How did you think I got here?”
“That was going to be my next question. We discourage visitors.”
“Why?” Nick demanded. “Why is all of this such a secret? Don’t you realize that people are dying out there for simple lack of food and shelter?�
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Washburn narrowed his eyes at Nick, then glanced around the room before answering. “I don’t think it’s as bad as that.”
Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath to still his anger. “You don’t know me. So I understand that you can’t believe me without corroboration, but I don’t make stuff up. I have been traveling the country bartering for my settlement. I’ve fought raiders. I saw an entire settlement massacred by mercenaries. I’ve seen people lying in the street dead from this year’s flu. It’s bad out there. And it’s going to get worse when winter comes, and there’s no train food.”
“I can see you’re upset, but I don’t have any control over the trains, the food or the vaccines. And I don’t have enough men to deploy as it is.”
“Doing what?”
Washburn shook his head. “Sorry. Not going to share that with a new friend.”
“Can’t you do anything about the pressgangs? They are leaving abandoned children all over the country.”
“Yeah, well I kind of doubt that.”
“Tell that to the twenty-six children from Barberry Cove that walked to our settlement in the middle of a storm.” Nick jolted to his feet, unable to stay put a minute more. “They had babies in wheelbarrows! The oldest is fifteen.” He marched a few steps away before turning back, anger burning through him. “You’re all playing games while this is going on out there.”
Washburn remained sitting, looking unperturbed. “We all have our parts to play in keeping this country going,” he said with an icy calm.
“You won’t have a country if you don’t protect the children. They’re our future.” Nick crossed his arms, too furious to sit, but not wanting to leave if he could get any more information. He became aware of the armed guards that were now stationed inside the room.
The General turned his attention to his breakfast. “Sit,” he said with a gesture toward Nick’s abandoned meal. “Eat your breakfast. It sounds like you might need it if you’re going on your way today.”
Nick took his seat begrudgingly, but had to admit that was sound advice. The meal was basic. He’d seen better food at Rutledge’s lab. “Sorry,” he grumbled. “I’m frustrated. We all are. And seeing that little enclave of politicians talking about committees and reports got me...”