End Times, Inc. (A Great & Continuous Malignity)

by David S. Wellhauser

  “Firstly,” Halton had begun with anxiety, but also an edge to his voice, “there is no way anyone could guarantee her safety. You have on numerous occasions stated and demonstrated your goal relative to the H+ in general and those in particular believed to be responsible for the abduction of China and Leonor.”

  “I am willing to listen to reason, even forgive Melissa if she would restore my family.”

  “That is the other problem. Only you have an investment in allowing Leonor to...”

  Edwards never managed to finish the thought as Matt broke through Jonah’s block and was on the older man. Although Halton had 20 odd years on Matt, he was never certain of Edwards’ correct age as he had for a long time no longer been certain of his allegiance—to himself or even Neruda, his uncle was fit and experienced. Still, Matt had been gaining in experience and managed to bring a rage to the game love alone would never have been capable of. The altercation had lasted less than a minute before Salt had separated the pair, yet both men came away with soft tissue damage. Matt would carry a scar on the left side of his face for the rest of his life and Halton had lost the better part of his left nipple.

  Matt, braced against the sink and breathing hard and heavy, stared at Edwards—a heavy blood stain spreading across his shirt—doubled over in pain. Halton pushed up with the help of Salt. “If,” Matt breathed heavily, “you do anything to harm either of them, but especially, Leonor I will finish you no matter what it takes, or costs.” Halton grunted understanding, but this did not seem like acquiescence. “And if Melissa again gets between myself and my family I will kill her. But, I will do this one thing—if you and Melissa no longer interfere with myself or my family I will leave both of you alone.”

  “I will not harm Leonor, and have no interest in China.”

  “Is that good enough for you?” Jonah asked Matt. There was a hesitant moment and a cagey narrowing of eyes, as though a haunted intention or suspicion remained. Indeed, Matt was not certain whether or not to believe his onetime uncle. So much had happened since he’d met Melissa; so much most would not be capable of forgiving and fewer of understanding. There was at this point, however, naught he could hope to do to control or overwhelm the chief of the Dragoste. If he killed him, then he would have the Dragoste down on him.

  “Yes.” There was no other answer he could give. Taking Halton’s hand they parted colleagues, but as far as Matt was concerned enemies as well.

  ***

  “You can’t be serious?” Salt rasped looking up at The Outpost Motel sign. “Really, outpost?”

  “It’s the West—how they think.” Matt argued. Defeated, or willing to be, Jonah gave it up and pulled around the construction and into the lot.

  “Looks rundown, too.” Two SUVs pulled in behind. After the encounter with Halton, Matt was not taking any chances. All told they’d brought eight men with them—not including Salt and he. Everyone was armed, as well. If they’d been 15 km south that would have been less of an issue, but Cardston was in Alberta and the Canadians still had trouble with a carload of men each armed with an assault weapon and sidearm. Still, there was little trust left in Matt; he wasn’t certain of Jonah, but it had to have been as bad for him. In all of this there was no way to be entirely certain—the Meta seemed, on the best of days, inscrutable.

  Standing on the upper floor, Salt had left his people with the SUVs, where Neruda had left his, Matt knocked on the door. After a rustle of noise this opened. Inside Neruda, still portly and convivial, was tense. “Hi, Roberto.” Matt said. He smiled, extending a hand to both he and Salt, though more tense with the Meta. “So, you wished to meet—what about?”

  “Things are getting out of hand.”

  “Out of hand? Do you mean Halton?” Salt asked.

  “Amongst other things.” Not looking at the Meta.

  “What,” Salt asked suspiciously, “exactly are we talking about here?”

  “The gap between the two of you,” Roberto answered, “and Salt’s people is growing significant.”

  “Yes, but whose fault,” Matt asked acidly, “is that?”

  “Harsh steps may be necessary to save the world.”

  “The only step necessary is killing Zakara; then no one will be able to bring the Cinn through.”

  “You hope.”

  “If,” Salt bit back, “you want a perfect solution in this world you won’t find it—even if you are suggesting what I believe you are.”

  “Certain of that?”

  “All the Cinn need do is find someone else like Zakara and they be back on track for a new incursion.” Matt answered.

  “You’ve been thinking of this a lot, haven’t you?”

  “Not much choice—especially after the last meeting with Edwards.”

  “Hmm, Halton has been a bit of a disappointment.”

  “We need to keep young Feargal here alive. After all he may be the last chance to stop Botrous. However, the tension between our two groups is becoming considerable.”

  “In what ways?” Jonah asked.

  “There’s a general feeling you people care more about advancing the Meta agenda than you do about Archaics.”

  “We,” Matt shot back, “only want a fair deal for both. Right now the Metas aren’t getting that.”

  “Many of my people would suggest the opposite.”

  “There’s everyone’s problem.” Salt answered. “There have been winners and losers in both groups—both have reasons to complain.”

  “Which is why I am here. We need to demonstrate that we both will support the law; that we won’t play favourites.”

  “I’m thinking,” Matt answered, “you have a plan.”

  “Yes, Southwest of Cardston here there is a Travellers’ camp. They are here illegally, but the Canadians are busy with Newfoundland right now. You’ve heard?” They nodded. There had been several soft spots detected there and an epidemic of conversions and civil unrest had stretched the nation’s resources. “So the government, as many governments, has been outsourcing public security. They’ve hired the Ajutor to return the Metas to BC.” This was not news, but it was not known they were hiring Neruda’s people. They were considered, by most Metas, to be terrorists.

  “You want us to help you relocate them?” Salt asked.

  “It would help to calm a great many.”

  “This isn’t a good idea.” Matt grumbled.

  “No, but it is the only one I have.” The men agreed—reluctantly.

  ***

  Outside the camp, Salt’s people took the North end and Neruda’s the south and east ends. The plan was to drive them west. As Salt and Feargal pushed south, and the Metas moved peacefully, there came a burst of automatic weapons fire and then several more bursts; finally it was a pocked wall of sound. The Metas broke west and ran. Salt let them go and had his people move on the fire fight. Closing on the position, the men saw that it was exactly as they’d feared. The Ajutor were not moving the Metas, but butchering them. Dozens were already dead or dying and others were flying west as the Ajutor fired into the crowd.

  Matt fired into the Ajutor first, followed by the rest of their men. Jonah stood slacked jawed and stunned, unable to move. When the Ajutor realised what was happening they returned fire, and then there were injured and dead on both sides. Once Neruda realised what was happening he and Salt managed to bring their respective team members under control. By this time, however, it was clear to both Feargal and Salt what the Neruda operation had always been about, even if Neruda claimed this not to be the case.

  “This,” Jonah growled, “should never have happened.”

  “I’m sorry,” Neruda hardly sounded this, “but they wouldn’t move and someone tried to knife one of my people. Afterwards things got out of hand.”

  “These are desperate people with no hope back in BC.” Matt answered. What he was thinking of was his family and wondering how soon before something like this happened to them.

  “It’s the law...”

  �
�Don’t!” Matt shouted. “Don’t you try to put this on the law. This was murder.”

  “We can’t work together, that is plain.”

  “There is still Zakara.” Salt suggested, but didn’t appear to see much hope in this. Were they still allies? Hostile ones.

  ***

  In the days following the attack, Matt and Jonah had managed to slip back across the border.

  The 49th had been closed after the Dilmun Incident, but as the skirmishes with Metas in general, and the H+ specifically, increased guarding the border became impracticable. This still occurred at the Great Lakes International Boundary and the Quebec border, but beyond that there remained only a symbolic presence. The main reason for this was beyond the dense population of the Great Lakes there was little by way of cross-border violence. Effective resource use had become a major issue for governments with the weakening of the global economy and social dislocations which accompanied the mass transformations.

  Following from this, movement across much of the frontier had become a simple matter if you had a plan, were quick, and had resources to draw upon. Salt had all of these through Meta and Archaic contacts. Whereas Matt had spent his time since Dilmun searching for his family, Jonah had spent the majority of his time building an organisation from the ground up. For the moment it remained in its initial stages, but the Meta had substantial access to resources and agents—enough so that Jonah and Matt, in a couple of days, were sitting in the Quality Ponderosa in Great Falls, Jim Bridger territory. Matt, with the help of some good IDs supplied by Jonah, was sipping on a beer while Salt had contented himself with a coffee.

  Scratching the label, Matt looked up. “What do you think will happen once that Travellers thing gets about?”

  “Short-term it should bolster H+ and Transhumanist recruitment, which is why I’m suspicious of it.”

  “Zakara may have pushed them to migrate?”

  “Perhaps, or some of his people.”

  “Same difference.” Jonah smiled.

  “But in the long term this will send them to us.” Matt raised an eyebrow at this and Jonah continued. “Eventually they will find Botrous worse than Neruda. As a result, this should push both Metas and Archaics to us.”

  “To you.”

  “Going it on your own won’t work.”

  “No, I’ll work with you, but I’m not interested in the politics. Never have been—you know that.”

  “The best way,” Salt attempted without what looked like much hope, “to save your family is to end Zakara.”

  “But what of his organisation?”

  “Should fall with him.”

  “That isn’t reasonable. For many this will be the case, but those fanatical members could re-establish parts of this and begin the whole mess again.”

  “If you believe that, then there is no hope for humanity.”

  “Perhaps there is, but there are no guarantees unless you kill all in the inner circle. Even then, the Cinn are still out there and they will try to come back.”

  “We can sort out the deeper agendas later. There is no reasonable manner in which either Zakara’s inner circle or the Cinn could re-establish the enterprise any time soon. The H+ would not have the personnel or the resources or the sympathy to launch an assault on you and your family let alone compete with local governments in any of the OECD entities.” Matt, while Jonah spoke, chipped at the label of his beer and looked about the spartan bar with its hardwood floor, severe furniture, and black cherry bar.

  For the few patrons, Matt appeared not to be paying attention to his partner, but he was carefully considering each word and what weight these bore and how certain he could trust Salt beyond his conviction that the destruction of Zakara would be followed by the long term crippling of his organisation. Then there were the Cinn. How could Salt begin to comprehend those which barely had a foothold in this universe? There were too many variables and unknowables here to put much hope in anything—even Salt. Amongst those which he found himself, since their escape from Dilmun, Salt was the only one, any longer, which he’d any faith to place in. This didn’t mean much, since he’d almost no faith left.

  “What you suggest is reasonable—even probable. But you are asking to place the lives of my family at risk in the hope that your strategy is the correct one. There are too many players; too many variables; too many unknowns for you, or anyone, to make that claim.” The pathetic muzak played over the silence which followed and this grated over Matt’s ears. All he wanted now was to get back to looking for rumours of China and Leonor. The middle of Montana seemed not the best place to do this. He’d stumbled across speculation that William and Carla were somewhere on the West Coast, maybe Santa Fe—that seemed like the best place to begin. Still, he needed the resources at Salt’s disposal, so he had to make certain to keep the Meta on his side. If not his side, then at least he needed him to be willing to share those resources.

  The break with Edwards and Neruda had made the Metahuman the only resource and, perhaps, the only friend he’d left. He couldn’t dismiss him quickly without suffering a significant resource deficiency. Therefore, when Matt spoke he did so with gravitas and sympathy—even if this were offered with a manipulative cynicism. “No, then?” Salt spoke before Matt could bring himself to reject his friend.

  “It isn’t that simple. I still believe in your agenda and value your friendship—you may be all I’ve left by way of friends.”

  He realised this sounded an over the top Machiavellian gesture, but it might just work because it was honest. “But until I have my family back I cannot give up on getting them back. Siding with you, completely, would interfere with that.”

  “I understand, but when there are no immediate leads then you should be able to help us.”

  “Can I rely on you to help me turn up leads?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I can help you.” In the end Matt felt the compromise was going to be the only way to maintain the support and information he needed.

  The convoy pulled up next to the KOA Kampgrounds and Jonah climbed from the lead vehicle to stretch against the three hour ride. His vertebrae crackled with the effort. Matt, emerging behind him, smiled. “Getting old.” Turning he looked down the highway. “Can’t quite see the city; that’s the airport alright, but we’re not close enough to see more.”

  “Sure you want to set up here?”

  “Not sure, but we need to settle somewhere and recollect ourselves.”

  “Rapid City wasn’t so great.”

  “Too many people. That’s why I wanted to keep on. Wherever we find troops and Federals it won’t be any good until they change their mind on whom the enemy is.”

  “Like that will ever happen.” Not a question at all.

  “It will Matt, but the crisis is not yet on us. When it is and is recognised there will not be any choice.”

  “Be great if any of us live to see it.” Asher said coming up from behind.

  “Let’s get everyone out and let them stretch their legs. Once they’ve all recovered we will go in slow.”

  “We have lost,” Asher said, “three since Rapid City.”

  “Find a place to bury them. Showing up with our dead isn’t a good way to win over the locals.” Grunting, Asher returned to the convoy.

  “You’re getting good at that.”

  “Not great, but I understand the necessity of what we’re doing and how best to accomplish this.” Salt hesitated a moment. “There will be a lot more dead before this is over.”

  “Many times many.” Matt answered. “Think I’ll help Asher.” Salt nodded.

  Cody is a flat place, semi-arid, which had managed to survive through tourism built around Buffalo Bill and Yellowstone. The population never reached above 10,000, but from the looks of it, as they drove through town, this had been reduced. The scars of skirmishes were found all along the way. The rumour they’d picked up along the way was a minor H+ force, mostly a recruitment unit, had passed through a few months befo
re. The group had picked up a few of these Meta refugees back in Rapid City and they’d joined them in the hope that larger numbers would be better protection, and because they’d heard of Salt.

  Like many western towns Cody tended toward a fierce independence and when the H+ unit showed up they did not call in US troops, nor did they wish their help when they appeared some weeks after the incident. There was even some tension between the locals and the military when their commanding officer wished to leave some units behind. However, when the threat of violence was offered by the citizens the Federals thought better of the conflict and moved east and to Rapid City—where elements of these remained. What the Federal strategy was no one seemed clear about—even the soldiers. This was just one more reason Jonah had wanted to keep moving—no Federals.

  The arrival of Jonah’s column, which is how Matt thought of it—the whole affair was the inspiration of the Meta, the Mayor and city council invited him to speak at a town hall meeting because of the fame Salt had acquired in attempting to bridge the gap between Archaics and Metas. Matt’s relationship to fame was more as mythic artefact, than political moderate. The nature of the public’s attitude toward the two men did not come out until the meeting—particularly their behaviour at the Cardston massacre, for which both had gathered considerable fame. Only for extremists on either side was this considered infamy.

  In the meeting there were only brief eruptions of dissent; then only from fear of what the Federals and H+ might do if they learned of their presence and plans to offer a third way—fracturing the present dialectic. But these were quickly dissuaded by his oratory and the resources Jonah had assured the townsfolk would be placed at the disposition of Cody. Feargal chose not to be cynical about which was the deciding factor for the people, but was suspicious. In the end the town welcomed Salt, Feargal, and their followers.

  With both Metas and Archaics now firmly on their side Salt spent the next weeks organising both groups, including most townsfolk, and brought in key elements of Sansa to help train them. With this, other Metas and displaced or disaffected Archaics were drawn to the town. At first they were invited into the homes of the people of Cody, but as these filled up they were placed in the hotels, schools, and then the camp grounds on the outskirts of town. Some prefab housing was arranged as well. The scope of the operation, in less than a month, staggered Feargal and he became anxious as to just what Salt was hoping to do with them on one hand and what the reaction of Botrous and the Federals would be on the other. There was good reason to believe this new Sansa organisation would be seen as a rival State. What then would happen?