Typhoon of Steel

by Marshall Miller

  body.”

  The robocop set Heidi down. “It is time to go see your brother, Torbin. He is still not ready to get up and walk. But he knows you and Kathy Monroe live. And yes, he knows, understands she has children. As he knows he is an uncle.”

  “Been busy, haven’t you?” asked the Marine.

  “The understatement of the decade. Now, shall we?”

  As Andrew took Torbin down one corridor, and the other, three went down another, Heidi said to the others. “I guess we are all kind of…connected now, for better or worse.”

  “From this minute forward, Heidi Faust, we are all humans,” Ichiro said. “We must never again allow us to fight over petty things as race, religion, territory.”

  Heidi laughed. “I can tell out of the three of us here, I am the least serious. Well, let me be a bit of a class clown, and tell you some stories of Andrew, the all too human cyborg I have known…”

  CHAPTER 48

  CAPITOL BUILDING, OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT

  BISMARCK NORTH DAKOTA

  President Sandra Paul put down the draft treaty. At least, it was meant to be a form of a treaty, though it was along the lines a voluminous living agreement between two peoples trying to live together in the same house. The Great Compromise. She rubbed her temples with her fingers as she tried to grasp what they were actually trying to do. In the outer office, she heard George Williams IV, her closest friend and advisor, talking rather loudly on the direct overseas line they had established with Free Japan.

  “Yes General, I know it’s not easy…I know there are three Warlords trying to control Mainland China. Yes Sir, we realize there are also a lot of definite Feral areas, with no organized living groups…General, all we can do is all we can do. Tell the Warlords that they can send representatives to Bismarck, North Dakota to discuss this proposal, or they can ignore us and deal with the Squids themselves. Which means, they may wind up being eaten again…Madam President thanks you for all your efforts in obtaining as many representatives of surviving human enclaves as possible. Royal Princess Akiko is here and has guaranteed that all of your excellent efforts are being directly communicated to the Emperor and the Prime Minister…Yes Sir, the Princess is doing it personally…Yes, General, I will communicate your profuse thanks to the Royal One and your undying loyalty. Thanks again, General. We will be in touch.”

  She heard George sigh. “My friend, come on in, have a seat and relax,” she called out. “I think I have some ice cubes and some scotch with your name on it.”

  George walked into her Oval Office with a smile on his face. “Now I know what is like to really herd cats. I just hope we get enough respondents and attendees to make this conference have meaning and substance. I sure as hell don’t want anyone to get the idea that we are forcing a deal on them. Or that we are making some secret compromise with the Tschaaa.”

  Sandra Paul poured the scotch over the ice cubes in the substantial drink glasses. It had been a long day, the third since the Wizard had been stopped. She shivered internally when she thought just how close everything had come to unraveling before it really began, and then turn into an unmitigated disaster. A few rock strikes, followed by a nuke or two…

  “Thinking once again about what might have happened, aren’t you Sal?”

  “Guilty as charged, dear friend. Had I had to launch the She-Bear, with its special warhead…”

  “I know, Sal. Bodies would still be piling up worldwide had that happened. But it did not.”

  She looked deep into the eyes of her strong right arm. “George, whatever you may think, but at the end, Adam Lloyd was a hero. Pure and simple.”

  George let out a heavy sigh. “Sal, I knew him before he…turned to the dark side. That phrase fits perfectly. But selling him to the masses as a hero at this early date will cause even more of a nasty reaction than will some of the points in this written proposal…This Great Compromise.”

  “I know, George. At a later date, but not too late, I will revisit Adam Lloyd, who I never had a chance to meet. If we had…who knows? Maybe we could have worked something out earlier.”

  Madam President snorted. “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. My grandfather taught me that.”

  She picked up the large packet of paper. “We can’t let all the heroes who shed blood for this day to be disappointed. We will make this work.”

  George laughed. “There is that spine of steel again.”

  The President smiled. “I saw a cartoon in this morning’s paper. They have me with a backbone like a Stegosaurus, spikes and plates sticking out all over. I was beating a Squid and a Kraken with a large horned tail. The caption said. “Payback”. But I don’t want all…this to be payback and revenge.”

  George nodded. “Yeah. We don’t want to be fighting about this a hundred years from now, like the U.S. Civil War. We are joined at the hip with the Squids on this planet now, whether for better or worse, no matter who lived here first.”

  Madam President took a swig of her drink. “Yes. I just have to sell that to some two billion or so surviving humans, every single one of them who lost someone during the last some seven years.”

  “And the Krakens?”

  “George, there is a fire in my gut to send the Banshees and anyone else I can find out and round up every single former human being who now identifies as one of those monsters, has one of their tattoos, and crucify them, hanging their bodies up and down the Interstates. Like the Romans did to enemies who particularly upset them.” She refilled her drink, took a sip.

  “But then I would be no better than they are. Instead, those who wish to remove their tattoos and hide, fine. If some sick bastard wants to pray to a Kraken, a Cthulhu, then have at it. The Bill of Rights still exists. But woe to those who decide to taste human flesh ever again. I will find a way to publicly gut them. Though anyone who has proof of murder or a War Crime by a specific individual Kraken, that monster’s ass is bought and paid for.”

  “Execution,” George said.

  “Hell, I say feed them to the Tschaaa. See how they like being eaten by their gods.”

  George’s eyes widened a bit. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “I plan on putting that in the agreement. I think just about everyone will agree to it. Human eaters, baby rapers, serial killers, sociopaths—why not feed them to the Squids? Quick, efficient death penalty. Cheap, too.”

  George shivered a bit. “Remind me to never really make you angry, Ma’am.”

  “No worries, George. I know you prefer lean buffalo.”

  “That I do. Now, to continue, those mapped out areas. Think they will fly?”

  “We cede Baja, the Sea of Cortez because they have covered over that whole area anyway, and created a huge breeding and manufacturing area there. We also cede them most of Cuba, the Bahamas, and all the reef areas around there. They keep the ports of San Diego, L.A., and San Francisco Bay, especially Alcatraz. Also most of the areas around Hawaii. Surviving Canadians said the Tschaaa could keep the port area around Vancouver B.C.. We both get back the Great Lakes, along with the northern fishing areas on the coasts. The Tschaaa keep the waters off of Savannah, although we get the port back. Ditto with Miami.”

  “The Florida Keys?”

  “Our most dear friend, the Admiral, has an agreement with the Tschaaa already.”

  “Really. Sal? An independent Conch Republic?”

  “George, he is a true hero. Kept in contact with us over all those years. Almost lost Jolene, our other operative. She was airlifted to Malmstrom for medical aid. So yeah, the Conch Republicans can have their independence. Some former Krakens can go hide there.”

  “And the Russians, European representatives, Chinese, Free Japanese, India, all the other former human areas?”

  “They tell us at the conference in four days what they want, and are willing to give up. We are going to have to work out over time how to split up all the deep ocean areas, some of the southern fishing areas, once we have fishing fle
ets again. Though our new special friend Andrew, Saint Andrew some have called him, tells us that the Tschaaa have pretty much explored a lot of the deep oceanic trenches. They are fascinated by the giant whales as well as the giant squids. They see orcas, great whites, as worthy opponents for their young warriors, like the Maasai in Africa hunted lions.”

  “Well, Ma’am, I see the need for some formal structured organization to settle disputes in these ocean and coastal areas. And hell, we haven’t even talked about the lizards, though in truth they have kept pretty much to themselves since after the first year of the Infestation. I guess Andrew and his now Guardian Angels as they are called, so much nicer than robocops, are going to keep us from warring again.”

  “Who came up with that concept?”

  “Abigail, our own Avenging Angel. And, she called him Saint Andrew first. That young lady is wise beyond her years. If she ever went into politics…”

  George snorted. “Are you kidding? She is way too honest…I mean, you know, present company…”

  Madam President began laughing loud and hard, an embarrassed George finally joining in. After the President had regained her composure, she looked at George. “There’s a lot more work to do, my dearest friend. If we are going to be the United Sixty States of North America, from Panama up to the Arctic. Deseret…well, they prefer the idea of an Independent Nation State, a very religious centric state, but following our Bill Of Rights.

  “Mrs. Smith is the new President?”

  “Special election. A landslide. He husband is, well, out of the picture. And, since you brought them up, our dinosaurian lizards have staked out the desert around Area 51 as well as around Yuma, Arizona as their breeding areas. So, we may have a situation like Native American Reservation Lands, unless we want to force them out, which I don’t.”

  Sandra Paul stood and stretched. “Uffda. Can you give me one of your signature neck and back rubs, George?”

  “Of course. Lay on the sofa, please.”

  For the next few minutes, Madam President was making little sounds of ecstasy as she enjoyed his strong and capable fingers.

  “One of these days, George, someone is going to claim my groans of pleasure are from sex, not a back rub.”

  “Someone did. Years ago. I decked him.”

  She sat up. “Serious?”

  “As a heart attack. The person is long dead. But no, I still will not tell who it was.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “Ever the defender of my virtue.”

  “Your husband would want it that way.”

  “Yes, he would. And still does. Watches from afar, but sometimes near.”

  The two best friends sat next to each other, quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Then, the telephone rang. George picked it up.

  “Williams here. Yes, Captain. We will be working late, so ask for some Banshee volunteers…what? Danny, they all volunteered to stay the night? Okay. Get ahold of the chow hall, make sure it stays open for to go orders. This is going to be a marathon session. Thank you.”

  “George, at least send David Jackson home. He can come back in the morning.”

  “He won’t leave until Brynhildr is back to take care of your security.”

  “Will no one listen to my desires?”

  “Not if it involves your security.”

  She sighed. “Why me?”

  George took her hands in his. “Sal, you are what held us together, when things were darkest. Torbin, Abigail, Aleks, Ichiro, and all the rest, they made it happen. But you held it together. They know that. So, you will never be alone.”

  Madam President blinked back tears. Then, she straightened her spine of steel.

  “I guess I had better live up to their loyalty.”

  “You and me both, Ma’am. You and me both.”

  At the original spot of the Kraken Incursion that started Bloody Kansas in Kansas City, Kansas, two regular Army soldiers stepped out of their fortified position and hailed the figures approaching slowly, on foot.

  “You folks need to identify yourself,” the Sergeant called out. “War is not officially over yet.”

  “Staff Sergeant Benjamin Black,” the man with the long rifle across his shoulders called back. “And I have a Bollywood-looking woman called Red, two kids in this little red wagon, with Bobby Parsons bringing up the rear.”

  It took a few moments for the names to sink in, then the Sergeant swore. “My God. It’s the Reaper. And the other people they said to watch for. Sergeant, they thought you were dead.”

  The mouth of the man called The Reaper formed into his slight signature smile.

  “Won’t be the first time. Won’t be the last.”

  CHAPTER 49

  PASSAGES

  There is an American saying that nothing is for sure except death and taxes. I will add more. The passage of time. And true love.

  -Royal Princess Akiko

  Torbin Bender, United Armed Forces General, Retired, sat on the expansive front porch of his and Aleks’ large two story home. The State of Montana had ensured that the two special veterans of the Tschaaa Infestation War and the many smaller local conflicts that followed were provided a homestead of some fifty acres on the northeast slope of Big Baldy Mountain about forty miles from Malmstrom Armed Forces Base. On a clear day, which were many, they could see the edges of the base and Great Falls, Montana. Once or twice a week they would go into civilization during the spring and summer months. During the typical Montana Winter, they stayed closed to home, spending time snowshoeing, hunting, taking care of their livestock and War Dogs, as well as chasing each other nude around the large house. As Torbin often said, they may be getting old, but they sure as hell were not dead, or even close to it.

  He took a sip of the five alarm head busting Russian version of coffee Aleks always provided him. One of these days, he was going to take a cup of it to the local University, where both he and Aleks had positions as Adjunct Professors, and have the Chemistry Department figure out just how much caffeine was ‘really’ in it. He was used to old Marine chow hall coffee, or cowboy coffee made by throwing a fistful of grounds into boiling water over the campfire. But they could not hold a candle to Aleks’ Russian concoction. She always called him a wuss when she caught him cutting it with milk or cream. Then he would act all hurt, demand satisfaction over his honor, and they would begin a wrestling match. Which often resulted in two exhausted nude bodies on the bear rug in the large living room.

  In front of him was a state of the art laptop computer, as he still preferred to type the old two finger method to dictating into his PAD. Although the AI could do everything for him but cook, clean ,and have sex, Torbin still felt funny having it print out and correct whatever he wrote. Aleks had demanded he finish his memoirs in the next month, or she would cut off all physical relations. He knew she would not, but he knew how important it was to her that he complete them. And, today was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, so he had another reason to keep her happy by working on the book.

  “Torbin, everyone is writing what they did in the War.” Aleks oft said. “Princess Akiko’s work has spurred a large industry on autobiographies, biographies and so-called nonfiction works. I do not want to see one more person write about what you did before you do.”

  He looked at the huge volume of the Princess that sat on the corner of the desk he had set up on the porch. The Great Compromise was the official short title. But everyone referred to it in shorthand as The War History. Not just once but many times he used this fantastic bestseller as a reference to help him with some memory of an incident. Princess Akiko had set a standard in scholarship that everyone was now striving to match. Out on the market for just over year, it had already been translated into twenty-five languages, including Tschaaa. Torbin grunted. How in the hell was he going to compete with that? Not to mention the working draft of Banshee the history of the One Hundred and First Special Attack Unit and the Sisters of Steel that sat on the other corner of his desk. Aleks, as the First Uni
t Commander, had been asked by the Princess, as a personal favor to one who had served under Aleks as a Banshee, to review the work for accuracy. Torbin had already caught his wife tearing up over some memory stirred by passages in the book. Thus, he knew that the Princess had another scholarly work of art on her hands.

  A very large canine muzzle chose that moment to insert itself under his right arm, demanding attention. Brutus, War Dog of the Sergeant Fuzz line, seemed to know when Torbin had been woolgathering too long and needed a distraction. Not to mention Brutus was a bit pushy when it came to obtaining a required number of ear scratches, chest scratches and belly rubs. Torbin scratched the very large head and ears of Brutus. “Hey, my friend, what do you think? Can I be a writer? Do I have what it takes?”

  “Of course you do, husband. Otherwise, I would not be bugging you to write this.”

  “And just how long have you been standing there, wife, checking on me? With Portia, I see.” Next to Aleks was an almost as especially large female of the War Dog breed. And, like alpha grey wolves, she and Brutus were life mates, their fecundity limited by the wonders of Tschaaa biological science. One thing could be said for certain, the Tschaaa were years ahead on humans in all things biological, although certain humans had added greatly to what the Squids had started. More and more humans were switching to vat grown flesh as opposed to raising livestock. Huge cattle, pig and chicken ranches were becoming things of the past.

  “I have been standing here long enough to see, My husband, that you are drifting into your famous mental woolgathering. Please, put a few words on paper, then the stories will come.”

  Torbin’s demeanor suddenly became very serious. “Aleks, I need to know. Was I…a good person? Was I a good husband and father? As I start to remember the last twenty-five years, I start thinking about what could have been, how I could have done things differently…”

  Aleks was around his neck, hugging and kissing him, her eyes a bit damp. “My God, you are always so hard on yourself. You saved so many people, did so much to regain out freedom from the Squids, not to mention loved me and helped raise two wonderful trolls, I mean sons. Of course you are a good person, husband, and an excellent lover. All things to all people.”