They haven’t been activated. So this must be where they’re made.
Delores must’ve made the same discovery, because she didn’t pause in her flight. She reached the opening in the wall and slipped inside. Murray paused only a moment, expecting screams. After a moment, she followed, her ankle throbbing.
She paused just inside, where the air stirred in a cool breeze, and gazed back at the massive complex. Large tubes at the far end of the facility pumped plasma through the ceiling and in a loop though a massive cigar-shaped device. It pulsed like a massive, powerful heartbeat.
Five plasma tubes came down from the top of the dome above the city. So there were probably four more of these nightmare factories.
Murray shook her head. During her political career, she’d polished out any use of obscenities because you never knew where a microphone might be lurking. But she’d long since outgrown the old political world, because that world was dead. She let the angry and scared civilian inside her have voice.
“We’re totally fucked.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rachel felt horrible.
She’d killed plenty of Zaps, and even a few vile and desperate humans, since the solar storms. Sometimes she’d killed because it was a war, sometimes she killed for survival. But she never felt like she’d murdered a living creature—mutant or otherwise—in cold blood.
As she sat in the uncomfortable metal chair beside Kokona in the glass-enclosed apex of the central tower, she wondered if the capacity to feel guilt was a good sign. At times her mutant half had seemed to be growing, threatening to completely overtake her, and surrender to the communal lulling of the Zaps was a welcome outcome. But she’d always managed to hang on to that inner core that believed in love, hope, and individual worth.
Suffocating a baby was a bridge too far, one over which she could never cross back. Never mind that Wisp was made evil by an accident of nature and physics rather than through choice. Never mind that the baby plotted to exterminate everyone Rachel loved. And never mind that Rachel and her friends would never escape while the child still breathed.
“I can feel your pain,” Kokona said, watching her with glittering eyes.
“How do you like it?”
“Interesting. But not very useful. Why not choose to block it off? Surely your mind isn’t that primitive.”
“She did your dirty work,” DeVontay said. “She doesn’t have to like it.”
DeVontay paced restlessly along the far side of the room, occasionally glancing into the streets below. Kokona wanted to enclose him in a glass tube, but Rachel refused to allow it. She and Kokona braced to argue about it, but finally Kokona relented with a grin, making a reference to the human history of slavery.
“I wish I could read your mind,” Kokona said to him. “You appear to be hiding complex emotions and feelings and thoughts.”
“No,” DeVontay said. “They’re pretty simple. All I want to do is bust up the Conglomerate and let you have your little empire. And then you let our people go like you promised.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to kill me first?”
“We’ve done that dance,” DeVontay said. “I don’t want any more blood on my hands.”
“One down, one to go.”
Rachel noticed Kokona didn’t consider Wisp’s carrier to be one of the Conglomerate. Despite the Zap babies’ dependence on their carriers, they ultimately viewed them as property. But some chains were invisible. As long as Rachel was bound to Kokona, DeVontay would stay by her side.
Until she forced him to leave.
“Rachel,” Kokona telepathed, achieving an easier entry due the death of Wisp. “Why don’t you tell him?”
You know why.
“Because he’d refuse to kill Mouse, and then he’d be stuck here forever like you. Just because of this foolish concept of love and loyalty.”
He loves me enough to never leave, and I love him enough to let him go.
DeVontay noticed the long silence and must have suspected they were mentally communicating. “What’s going on?”
“Talking about you behind your back,” Kokona said with delight.
DeVontay glowered at Rachel with his good eye. “It sucks being the only one around here who’s got to talk out loud.”
DeVontay didn’t seem overly shaken by Wisp’s murder. He’d disposed of the two bodies by dragging them to the perimeter of the city and laying them against the translucent material of the dome. The bodies had congealed and slowly dissolved, their blood and bones and silver clothing absorbed into the flickering fields of formative plasma.
Rachel tried to probe Kokona about the functioning of the city. But Kokona still maintained the ability to block Rachel’s penetration while not divulging how much access she had to Rachel’s mind. Wisp’s death had undoubtedly altered the Conglomerate’s relationship with the organic city, but Kokona appeared to be no closer to seizing control of it.
“Does Mouse know Wisp is dead?” Rachel asked.
“I’ve had no contact with him. He’s out there playing with his toys.”
Mouse became the kennel master of the dogs, spending much of his mental energy on training them and playing with them. The Conglomerate had unleashed a pack of them to slaughter savage Zaps that had attacked the city. Once the fabricated creatures finished their grisly task, the Conglomerate momentarily interrupted the energy drift that created the dome.
But Mouse’s love of his toys had distracted him from the job of city-building, allowing Wisp and Kokona to take on more of that work. In the process, he’d distanced himself from the others, perhaps because he was hatching devious ideas of his own.
“I thought he was rounding up the soldiers,” Rachel said. “Capturing them so they wouldn’t be harmed.”
“I told you I couldn’t guarantee everyone’s safety. Just Franklin’s and Millwood’s. If Mouse knew of my plans, he would kill them all.”
Rachel was appalled. Squeak and Franklin’s friend K.C. might be among the soldiers who’d infiltrated the city. “Then why didn’t you take some of your Zaps and do the job yourself?”
“If I’d volunteered to do it, Mouse would’ve been suspicious.”
“He’s already suspicious. It’s a wonder he hasn’t made a move to kill you yet.”
“Mouse is far more cunning and intelligent than Wisp. He knew one of us would end up getting rid of her.”
“Then we don’t have much time,” DeVontay said. “He’ll start to wonder why the Conglomerate hasn’t gotten back together. We need to move while we got the element of surprise.”
“He could’ve already put his own plan in action,” Kokona said. “So watch your back.”
“It would help if you could read his mind,” Rachel said.
“If I could read his mind, then he could read mine. He’s not a weakling like you. And then where would we be?”
“I don’t see how sitting around waiting for him to show up helps us,” DeVontay said. “You’ve done admitted he’ll be on his guard.”
“Yes, but I like it up here,” Kokona said. “I can watch my beautiful city grow.”
“It’s not yours yet,” Rachel reminded her.
“We can’t attack him while he has his dogs,” Kokona said. “Or his Zap units.”
“You mean he controls all the robots, too?” DeVontay stopped pacing and glared at the baby. All the affection he’d showered on the child while he and Rachel cared for it in their mountaintop bunker was replaced by barely concealed loathing.
“Of course. Mouse was hunting down humans. He should have all the robots.”
“That makes the job a little harder,” DeVontay said.
“In some ways,” Kokona said. “But it also scatters his focus, spreading it out among more entities. He has more forces but he’s psychically weaker. Just like when we were fighting Wisp and I could only barely manipulate the walls and floor.”
Rachel tried to trick Kokona, hoping the baby was distracted enough not to read he
r mind. “What if you shut down the plasma sink? Cut off the power for a moment, and then while he’s off guard, we…do it.”
Kokona giggled. “Nice try, Rachel. I don’t trust you any more than I trust Mouse.”
“Killing you would be suicide for me,” Rachel said.
“Your ethics are very peculiar. You’re willing to be a martyr like your dear friend, Jesus Christ.”
Rachel’s telepathic connection to Kokona allowed the Zap baby to plumb some of her more prominent memories, and of course the faith of her youth was imprinted there alongside Star Wars movies, Beatles music, Mindcraft, and a thousand other cultural and personal touchstones, as well as her embarrassing crush on Ethan Kilgore in the ninth grade. Rachel’s most personal and intimate moments were buried away, or so she hoped—she would feel violated if Kokona voyeuristically explored her lovemaking with DeVontay, her deep fear of snakes, or the shame she felt over her sister’s drowning death.
“I don’t believe in Jesus,” she said with some hostility. “A world like this has no room for that kind of myth.”
“We make our gods when we need them,” Kokona said. “Although it’s much nicer when you turn yourself into a god.”
“Good to know what we’re fighting for,” DeVontay said. “Keeps up the team spirit.”
Kokona paused a moment, and then her face brightened. “Ah. Dark humor. No pun intended.”
“Nah, you can be racist if you want. I make Zap jokes all the time when none of you are in the room.”
Kokona’s laugh trailed off into a hiss. Then she said, “Carry me to the window, Rachel.”
Windows stretched all around them, or, more accurately, a single window stretched around all four sides of the building. But Rachel knew which view Kokona wanted—the eastern side of the city, where a few clusters of human ruins had yet to be patched over. The baby was fascinated by the slow process of reinvention and renovation, like a child building a sand castle.
As Rachel held the child in her arms, Kokona said, “We’ve accomplished so much. It’s truly a marvel, isn’t it?”
“Impressive.” Rachel glanced at DeVontay, who resumed his pacing across the room. “So what happens when we have the entire city all to ourselves? After we eliminate Mouse?”
“Why, then we just have it. What more is there?”
“You said there are other domed cities like this one.”
“Yes, hundreds. Maybe thousands, if you count cities on other continents.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that you’ll be stuck here when there are so many more cities you could own and rule?”
Kokona frowned, her eyes shifting to a deeper shade of flickering red. From long experience and observation, Rachel knew the expression indicated the child was troubled over some point of logic.
“But I have a city,” she said.
“But others have cities, too. Doesn’t that bother you?”
Kokona squirmed restlessly in Rachel’s arms. “I can’t see them from here, so I don’t care.”
“Except you’ll know other cities are out there.”
DeVontay picked up on Rachel’s line of reasoning. “Maybe one of those other Zap babies will have a bigger city that this one.”
“This is the biggest,” Kokona said. “The best.”
“But how do you know? Have you seen any of the others?”
Kokona kicked in dismay. “No. This is the best city because I’m the best.”
“It’s not even your city yet,” DeVontay reminded her. “Mouse still runs half of it.”
“Then kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” Kokona’s superior intellect seemed to devolve into the temperament of a spoiled, irritable human baby whose diaper hadn’t been changed. “I want it all.”
“Let’s do it, then,” DeVontay said, looking to the west. “I think Mouse is on the move, if those little silver shapes are what I think they are.”
“I have a little surprise for them,” Kokona said. “But I’ll need you to take care of Mouse after I get rid of his little army.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gen. Alexander stood on a rocky carapace looking out over the Shenandoah Valley night.
A couple of lanterns flickered in the woods, carried by patrols on the lookout for savage Zaps or monsters. Ever since the infiltration that had killed several dozen civilians and fifteen soldiers, Alexander wanted any firefight to take place outside the caverns. The village was more secure since it had been moved from the caves to the depot, but it was now more like a prison than a fortress.
“The aurora is beautiful,” said his guard, a private who’d been a financial advisor in the old world. The man still wore a tie as if hoping to impress future customers for that day when money once again mattered.
Alexander craned his neck to the shimmering bands of green and violet that feathered across the northern sky. “Strange that the sun is still bombarding us with electromagnetic radiation even with our half of the planet turned away from it.”
“I don’t know anything about that, sir. Kind of like a woman. It’s bad news, but it’s damned nice to look at.”
“I hope you’re not planning to reproduce, then,” Alexander said, only half joking.
A number of women had become pregnant and even delivered since the solar storms, though most of the pregnancies ended in miscarriages. With each birth came the fear that a live Zap would emerge, slick and bloody and intelligent with burning, hateful eyes. So far, no such mutation had occurred, but the cavern’s few scientists offered no guarantees. Too much would never be known, especially given the lack of computers, advanced analysis equipment, and access to research.
“I wouldn’t play Zap roulette,” the private said. “When it comes to technology, condoms never go out of style.”
“Well, I don’t intend to enact mandatory reproduction anytime soon, Private.”
The private laughed. “I’d sure as hell volunteer for that mission, General. I claim first shot. The more the merrier.”
Alexander had risen through the ranks at a time when the military was built on morality and personal decorum. This makeshift army he’d inherited was a far cry from the courageous outfits he’d commanded in Iraq and Afghanistan. But he still embraced a duty to fight for his country. He’d accepted the need for Earth Zero as a worldwide approach to the Zap problem, but in the back of his mind, he’d always seen it as simply a step toward restoring the glory of the United State of America.
A set of headlights appeared over a hill to the east, framed for a moment against the humped black silhouette of Shenandoah Mountain before vanishing again. Highway 211 connected with Culpeper, so Alexander assumed this was a successful supply run. Although darkness offered some additional dangers, the risk of savage Zaps was mitigated because their fiery eyes were easier to spot.
“Let’s go see what they’ve found,” Alexander said, picking his way down the path through the sparse forest.
“But, sir, you shouldn’t leave the caverns,” the private said nervously. The rocky entrance was only thirty feet away, allowing for a quick escape in the event of an attack.
“Nice night for a walk,” Alexander said. “It won’t be long until the snow and ice comes, so enjoy this while it lasts.”
Alexander believed it was late November, or perhaps early December. After the solar storms, people had attempted to keep track of the days with paper calendars, but everyone arrived at different numbers and so had fallen back on tracking moon phases. That made Murray’s Operation Free Bird orders all the more troubling. What if NORAD followed a different timetable from the one Murray had intended?
The Earth Zero Initiative adopted Directive 18 as a failsafe, the ultimate destruction of the planet to avoid conquest by the Zaps. Abigail Murray embraced the plan with a suicidal zeal that had at first made Alexander question her judgment, but he eventually realized it was her way of letting humans determine their own fate.
Alexander now disagreed that death was preferable to letting Zaps dictate terms of ex
istence. Some of his officers even held out hope of a diplomatic compromise, even though Zaps had never shown the slightest inclination to co-exist.
The private fell in behind Alexander with a sullen sigh. The aurora and the smattering of starlight cast a gloomy, diffuse light along the path. Alexander felt more like a subject in one of the military’s famed LSD tests than a rational survivor in a post-apocalyptic world.
The vehicle engine was audible now, growling with quiet fury. Any Zaps in the vicinity would hear it from miles away, but persistent recon missions had finally culled them from the valley. That was another reason Alexander considered Munger’s expansion plans unrealistic—they could barely hold the ground they now occupied, and unless they hooked up with other rogue divisions, Munger lacked the boots on the ground to push their borders.
“Maybe they found some of those Polish sausages,” the private said. “The ones wrapped in plastic and pumped full of chemicals so they never get old.”
“I’d prefer some canned salmon. But now you’re just making me thirsty.”
As they continued down the path to the loading bay, they talked of the various exotic foods they’d eat “once this was all over.” It was a pleasant fiction in which all the survivors engaged. Alexander considered such trumpery not only harmless but essential to preserving morale and mental health.
They were halfway down the mountain when they heard the excited voices of the returning soldiers. Apparently the mission had gone well. The village would celebrate with a simple feast tomorrow, opening with the New Pentagon pledge, a prayer, and a rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner” as decreed by Alexander.
They came to a turn where a gulley ran alongside the path. The erosion prevented trees from taking root so the clearing was bathed in greenish light. Alexander stumbled over a rock and when he regained his balance, he heard the rustle of leaves and a low sibilance.
The creature burst out of the brush twenty feet away. Its eyes glinted like turquoise opals. Alexander got the impression of huge claws and a supple, feline body. The private audibly gasped, caught off guard the same as Alexander.
Crucible: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Next Book 5) Page 10