He smiled, “Well, it would appear that you have this particular point thoroughly debunked."
“It wasn't hard.”
“Smart and modest."
“Next you make the claim that my father must have been planning this for some time given how quickly combat drones were dispatched from my home Spire in New York City and then hours later from all the others."
“Exactly, it would take months, if not years, to design the first generation of drones that he deployed against us."
“Which can be explained by the fact that MNR had military contracts around the world. He simply borrowed from those designs to put together the first combat type."
“Why use them against us?"
She laid back in her bed. “Do you know where I spent the first month of the collapse?"
“I assume in your Spire."
“Yes, but more specifically locked away in our panic suite with my mother. You see, a missile struck our building, breaking its hermetic seal and exposing all the staff to the virus."
Mr. Miller came to her mind and as he often did when that uncomfortable memory surfaced. She bit her lip hoping the pain would distract her from emotions of loss. “The only reason my father survived was because he was automatically sealed in his office suite when it happened."
“I assume we are to blame for the missile strike."
She snorted, “Who else in this hemisphere would have had the ability? And you know full well that there was little to no leadership structure left for the remnants of the United States military. Toward the end they were essentially just groups of soldiers with warlords at the helm and very little desire to use their might responsibly.”
“I would point out that you have no proof that we launched a missile at your home or that it was even a missile at all,” he said a contented smile on his face. She felt herself growing annoyed at his expression. If he was going to disregard her so casually, the least he could do would be to hide his amusement.
“I was there when the explosion occurred. I felt it.”
“Explosions can be caused any number of ways.”
She waved her hand in the air, irritated with his attempt to ‘what if’ her without providing any additional evidence to counter her point.
“Finally, and your most compelling piece of evidence,” she indicated as she activated the tablet and brought up the appropriate animation, “your simulations showing rates of infection spiking near MNR Spires and major facilities."
“And following wind patterns in those areas, which when traced backwards always have an MNR facility in their path, incidence of infection drop dramatically the farther upwind one gets from those buildings. In nearly every urban area that has an MNR building or Spire, we see a spike in the number of infections.” His smile grew. “Who designed and oversaw the construction of the Spires and subsequent buildings?”
“My father,” Maria conceded.
“Yes indeed, if one was going to install a hidden aerosol dispersal system, he would be the man to do it."
“Three things, first all of this is circumstantial, you have no direct evidence linking my father.”
She held up two fingers, and continued, “Second, I’ve crawled through all the inner workings of my home. What you are describing would require significant ventilation systems as well as very large canisters designed for high pressure, I would have seen it."
David leaned forward and responded, “Your father had several weeks after the missile strike,” he held his fingers in the air and mimed quotation marks, “to rebuild before you were able to come out. Now let me ask you, have you ever wandered through the inner workings of the other Spires?”
“I know what I'll see.”
He arched an eyebrow, his coy smile returning. “Are you certain?”
“Also, your own reports show that infection patterns in the suburban areas were more uniform and didn’t conform to wind patterns at the time. So how do you explain that?”
He nodded. “We think your father tapped into local water mains after they left treatment facilities.”
She decided to push on and ignore his comment “Third and most important,” she indicated.
He cut her off by holding up a hand and then reaching for a scrap of paper and motioning for her pencil. Completely unsure of his reasoning, she provided it to him. He quickly scribbled on the paper and once done folded it in half. He looked her in the eye. “Continue please."
She shook her head and went on, “Most importantly, no matter how convincing any of this is, none of this information is valid because I can't independently verify the sources."
He burst out with a sharp laugh and handed her the slip of paper, on it read a simple note, “Information suspect, source unknown.”
“Cute trick, now I've done what you wanted, hold up your end of the bargain and take me home."
“Not so fast Maria, we haven't finished yet."
She rolled her eyes. “I knew you were full of crap."
He stood and walked to the door. “I am a man of my word, and I said I would reconnect you with your family after we went on a field trip."
“We're leaving this place, why?"
“Well, I learned from my mother, she was a teacher, that the best way to make theory stick with your students is to follow it up with hands on experience that demonstrates the knowledge in a practical setting." He opened the door, harsh white light streaming in. She still couldn't see into the hallway because of where she was in the room, but she watched as he motioned to someone out of view. He then looked at her and asked, “You coming?"
She stood up, slipping shoes on and slowly walked to the door. Williams moved aside to let her see down the hall. Cautiously she peeked around the door, a bland hall way greeted her, cut from rock and illuminated with halogen lights hanging from the ceiling; it gave away little to her trained eye, other than that she was underground. Given access to a geology database she could probably identify the rough rock and create a hypothesis on where she might be. Unfortunately, she had no access to such things and right now she was a little concerned about leaving the safety of her room. She quickly corrected that thought, the perceived safety, in reality she was at the total mercy of her captors. As if reading her mind, she felt a sharp pain in her bicep and looked down just in time to see her interrogator pinching her flesh.
“Ow, what the hell!"
He smirked, “Just wanted to point out that the room is no safer than the rest of the facility."
She rubbed her arm and griped, “Figured that out on my own, you dick."
His smile grew, “Such salty language, I approve."
The door at the end of the hall opened and William’s son came toward them, in his hand a black sack of some material. He thrust it toward her. “Put it on,” he ordered.
She sneered at him, “No."
His hand and the sack shook violently in front of her face. “I told you to put it on."
His head rocked forward and pain was visible in his eyes as Williams hand struck the back of his head. “I raised you better, prove that you know how to be polite."
His tone was even, but the words were filled with a steel that could have been used to construct a Spire. The younger man looked at his father, clearly wanting to lash out but at the last moment his expression changed, softening slightly. “She's our prisoner and our enemy, why are you being so nice to her?"
Williams exhaled. “Because we have all the power in this relationship, we can afford to be a little magnanimous.” He stepped in, wrapping his arm around his son’s shoulder. They both faced her. Sean’s head hanging and David smiling wide at her. They were quite the sight given their diversity. “Besides, everyone deserves a chance to prove who they are. Until then, she’s neither an enemy nor a friend."
“So what am I then?” she asked, curious to know his thought process.
Before Williams could answer, Sean responded, “Dangerous, we never should have brought you here."
David shook
his head. “Sean, I am so glad I didn't follow that line of thinking fifteen years ago."
Sean looked at his father, his mouth opening but words unable to form. Clearly whatever reference the older man had made landed solidly with his son. Sean raised his head but was unable to look her directly in the eyes. His hand extended with the sack, far more gently this time. “Can you please put this on? We need to control how much of our operation you are able to see."
David smiled widely. “Not so difficult was that.” He looked from Sean to her. “To answer your question, you are a guest. Now please put on the hood. We’ll be walking through areas where it's easier to restrict your sight than conceal things."
She took it from Sean’s hand and looked him in the eye. “Please don't walk me into anything."
He turned and strode toward the door, placing his hand on the knob and looking back at her and his father. Williams motioned for her to put the hood on. As she did so, she couldn't stop her imagination from running wild, going through all the horrible scenarios that could play out the moment she sacrificed her sight. They stopped suddenly as she was surprised by sweet and tropical scents filling her nostrils. Suddenly she was preoccupied with what they had kept in the sack before having her use it.
Williams placed his large hand on her shoulder and began guiding her forward, by instinct her arms reached out, probing the space before her. “You look ridiculous," Sean stated as he opened the door.
The younger man fell in step beside them as they went through. David’s sure grip gave her the confidence to put her hands down and trust him to guide her safely. “I’m wearing a sack on my head. What's your excuse?”
The rhythm of Sean’s footsteps was disrupted as he processed the insult and then quickened as he caught back up. She heard David suppress a snort and felt a small smile creep onto her face. It felt strange. She hadn't had a reason to enjoy herself for some time now and given what had happened so recently she could be expected to withdraw completely. To add to all of it, of all times for her to be positive, she hadn't expected for it to occur while she was still a prisoner, yet Williams had, in such a short time, actually succeeded in endearing himself to her and making her feel as if she were more than just an opportunity to exploit even though she knew that was exactly what she was. He was good at what he did.
As they walked through this new space the sounds of activity began to grow. At first distant voices and noises, which became clearer over time. As she neared each of the voices they would quickly fade as they noticed her presence. Some muttered under their breaths. She was able to make out words like “Spire”, “princess” and “spoiled bitch." Whatever comfort and familiarity she was experiencing quickly evaporated and she began to tense. David must have noticed. He gently squeezed her shoulder and quickened their pace.
They turned around a corner and she felt a small body run full force into her legs. She collapsed onto the ground amid a squeal that hadn't come from her. Small feet beat against the hard floor and their owners began to laugh.
“Oliver are you okay?” Sean asked the little person who had run into her. She felt David’s hands on her arm and one slipped under her elbow, the one connected to her bruised shoulder. He asked her the same question and she nodded as she got back to her feet.
“I’m okay Sean. Sorry Mrs. Spire lady."
She smiled and said, It’s fine… Oliver."
Sean grabbed her free arm. “You don’t apologize to her Oli. You and your friends get out of here and finish your chores."
David and Sean continued to guide her through the space. After a few moments, they reached a door and entered a small room. She knew they were in a smaller space because the noise from their steps didn't disappear, but instead reverberated back toward her.
“You can take the sack off now," Williams said. She did so, annoyed at the amount of static electricity that was generated resulting in her hair sticking wildly to the fabric as she removed it. She handed the hood to David, who fished a comb from his pocket and handed it to her. It was a basic piece of plastic with moderate sized teeth, obviously meant for a man, but she used it anyway. As she did, she surveyed her surroundings. The room appeared to be a preparation space, lockers lined the walls and benches filled the middle of the room, at the opposite end of the room from where they entered was a set of stairs leading into the ceiling, set into which was a metal door rusting at the hinges. Sean was at one of the lockers, equipping himself with armor and weapons.
She looked at David who was watching her, but she could tell was also visually double checking the quality of his son’s preparation. “Thanks for giving me the nice sack,” she joked.
“Your welcome, we keep candy in it."
She laughed, “For the kids I assume."
He winked, as Sean finished his preparations. Williams went to a locker and pulled out similar gear. She quickly realized that they were taking turns watching her. Even with the familiarity David was generating with her, he didn't let his guard down in any other way. She caught Sean staring at her, his eyes quickly shifting to some location to her side. His equipment, apparel, and even his weapons changed colors to match whatever he was physically blocking from her view. It made him take on the appearance of a disembodied head floating in midair. She smirked as she remembered the story her father had told her of the headless horseman.
“What are you looking at?”
“You soldier boy."
He shifted inside of his gear, something that was difficult to see with adaptive pigmentation but not impossible as it didn’t function perfectly as he moved, making it possible to identify discrepancies when close. “Well stop."
“Why, are you intimidated by little ol’ me?”
Before he could respond, Williams spoke, “Alright kids we are good to go. Sean, take point and scout ahead."
The young man’s face lit up for a moment and Maria concluded that this might have been the first time he had ever been trusted to perform such a task. Sean quickly pressed a green button located on a control box hanging from the safety rail attached to the stair leading up to the double doors in the low-lying ceiling. The door swung upward and sunlight streamed into their subterranean space. He raised his weapon and cautiously moved up the steps and out of view. She began to follow only to have Williams’ powerful hand land on her good shoulder. She looked at him and his expression was blank. “Miss Patterson. I need to warn you.”
“About the crazy shit that's out there. Don't worry I already know,” she said quickly hoping to not relive her recent traumatic experiences.
“No,” he responded as he shifted uncomfortably for a moment and then his expression hardened. “I am a man of my word. Once we are done, I will return you to your family."
She nodded. “I’m looking forward to seeing how trustworthy you are.”
He continued as if she hadn't spoken, “I need you to know; however, if you do anything that puts my son in danger, I will not hesitate to kill you."
Her breath caught. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, after all she was a prisoner, but the randomness and cold nature of his statement caught her off guard. “My word goes both ways Maria. Do you doubt me?"
“Not one bit,” she stammered, genuinely intimidated by his presence and delivery.
His face broke into a smile. “Good, fortunately you’re pretty damn smart, so I don't think there’ll be a problem."
He then opened a locker next to her and withdrew a cloak. He extended it to her and her blood ran cold when she recognized it as the same type that her attacker had worn. “Our gear keeps us hidden from drone and satellite surveillance. If you want to leave, you need similar protection."
“No,” she said, barely a whisper.
His brow furrowed and she could see that he was genuinely curious about this sudden change in behavior. “Why not?”
She began to shake, her knees felt weak, so before she lost the ability to stand she lowered herself to a bench and sat breathing heavily. David stood there,
obviously perplexed but giving her the time she needed to compose herself. She took a deep breath. “He wore the same thing."
A moment passed as David processed what she had said and then his face lit up in recognition and in that instant she knew that the nurse must have given him access to her medical file. He looked at the cloak in his hands and sighed. He took a seat on the bench directly across from her, turning the cloak inside out so she could see the inner lining. “Do you see that name right there?”
“McGinnis."
He nodded. “This belonged to him. He was a part of a Virginia National Guard Unit. Kid probably hadn't even graduated from war college when I found him,” David's voice trailed off and his vision slowly lost focus. Maria just watched as he began to relive events from long ago.
“A few months after everything had ended, I was on a scouting mission for supplies. As we approached a warehouse on the outskirts of Baltimore, we began to hear small arms fire." He paused as if questioning a decision he had made. “By this point most people who were susceptible to the virus were dead, so it was pretty unusual to encounter such an event. We advanced on the battle and found this tall kid with blonde hair holding off a squad worth of innies, with him was a mother and two infants."
Maria’s hand went to her mouth, already aware of how this story must end. “We began to take up positions to offer support.”
David's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “McGinnis had managed to set up a pretty defensible position, but he was one against five. One of them flanked him and tossed a grenade into the little fortification they had. I watched through my optics as he jumped on top of that grenade, sacrificing himself to protect those people."
“What happened next?" she couldn't stop herself from asking.
He came back at that moment, his eyes snapping to attention and focusing on her, a smile spreading over his face. “Three seconds later we took them all out, all except for Mr. Grenade. I arranged for him and I to have a conversation, found out where they were based and a few days later we paid them all a visit."
The Spire Page 23