V_The 2nd Generation

by Kenneth Johnson

  Her grandfather looked at the bottle, confused. "Where'd we get this much?"

  "I bought it," Charlotte said proudly. "You've got plenty now."

  "But how'd you ever get enough money to . . . ?" His voice trailed off as he looked at her shaved head and his breathing grew shallow. "Oh, Charlotte . . . no . . ."

  The teenager laughed, totally dismissing his concern. "Oh, I was tired of it being so long. Mrs. Soon paid me way more than it was worth. Now you take your meds, young man." She pressed the pills into his fragile hand.

  The old man, stirred by deep emotion, looked deeply into his granddaughter's bright, encouraging eyes.

  THE GENTLE, HALF-BREED TEENAGER JON PAUSED IN HIS JANITORIAL duties and looked around the high-tech chamber he had been cleaning. It was one of the Flagship's numerous Data Storage Sections. It had row upon row of racks so tall that for the most part they were accessible only by riding up on a floating pallet. Jon looked around stealthily, then secretly opened one of the racks and took out some data plugs. But he jumped when he heard the coarse voice of a Visitor clerk call out, "Hey, you! Dreg. What exactly do you think you're doing?"

  The Visitor, who had the face of an ancient reptile and was wrinkled as a prune, walked toward him. Jon's stomach dropped. He knew this female didn't like his kind at all. He had seen her look with disgust at his human eyes and hands. He stammered, "Oh. Well, ma'am. I was . . . uh . . . just . . ."

  "Just picking up some data I need," a voice behind them said. Jon was surprised to see a friendly faced Willy nearby. Willy took the data plugs from Jon, looked them over, and smiled. "Good, Jon. This is exactly right."

  The shrewish Visitor clerk eyed them suspiciously, not entirely convinced. "All right. But see that you check them out properly." She turned and shuffled away.

  Jon whispered gratefully to Willy, "Thank you, sir. I'm most appreciative."

  Willy spoke warmly, explaining, "I have a son like you."

  "Ah. He has a passion for learning, sir?"

  "No, he's . . . sort of confused right now." Willy thought of Ted's angst, then drew a fresh breath and smiled at Jon. "As long as you're here, are there any other plugs you want?"

  Jon looked up at Willy as though he were a gift from the gods. He nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes, sir!"

  IN THE INDUSTRIAL AREA NEAR THE ROTTING PIERS THAT ONCE SERviced ships before the East Bay became a dust bowl, Ayden and Bryke were joining Kayta. From a discreet vantage point they observed the Resistance warehouse. Ayden was still unaccustomed to his clothing and annoyed by it, but pleased that Kayta had successfully tracked Nathan.

  "Well done, Kayta. Let's reconnoiter." They moved off carefully in separate directions.

  Inside the warehouse Nathan was making dupe disks of the Resistance vid and he wasn't happy about it. He called out to Margarita as she passed with some reports, "Hey, Red. I didn't sign on to do grunt work. How 'bout some war action?"

  "That's what this is: a war for minds." She walked over to check his progress.

  Nathan thought he knew exactly what she was going to say, "Yeah, yeah I know: propaganda is important and all. But—"

  "The Truth is what's important." She picked up a few of the disks like they were beloved old friends. "These vids are just like the illegal leaflets that kick-started the American Revolution. And Julie's tactics are pretty much the same: we're trying to wake people up by getting out The Truth."

  "So she's George Washington?"

  "More like Thomas Paine actually. Remember Common Sense?"

  Nathan chuckled. "The very words I live by."

  "Yeah, right," she said with a smirk. "But Julie's also like Themistocles"—Margarita saw his look of curiosity—"the Athenian general who seized opportunities, improvised strategies?" She saw that Nathan still looked vague. "Led his outnumbered troops to beat the Persian army at Marathon? 490 B.C.?"

  "Oh, that Themistocles. History buff, are we, Red?"

  " 'Those who can't remember the past . . . '"

  " 'Are condemned to repeat it.' " He was pleased to see the flicker of surprise on her freckled face. He puffed up a little. "Santayana. I know some stuff."

  Their eyes held for a moment in mutual appreciation, then Julie called from across the warehouse, "Margarita? We got the info on Emma."

  "Great. Let's go recruit us a spy."

  She handed the vids to Nathan who immediately set them aside. "I'm for that."

  He started to follow her, but her hand went up. "Sorry, hotshot, this is girl talk. You just keep those vids coming," then she softened slightly, "please."

  Nathan watched the two women depart. Then he looked back at the boxes of vids and at the ten other people nearby who were also busy duping them. This was not what he wanted to be doing. He felt like the young, antsy mustang he'd once seen on the Big Island in a corral that was too small for it.

  A half block away outside, Ayden, Bryke, and Kayta had regrouped to share what they'd discovered. "No other outbuildings on my side either," Bryke was saying.

  "Good." Ayden nodded, his amber eyes turning again toward the Resistance warehouse. "Then their entire prime operation would seem to be centered in there."

  Kayta had been distracted by something she sensed to one side of the warehouse. She indicated that the other two should watch and they saw the small getaway sedan round the corner. Street-C was driving off through the deserted industrial complex with Julie and Margarita aboard.

  Ayden glanced significantly at Bryke. The dark-skinned woman understood and left to follow them.

  Inside the headquarters Nathan had all of his vid machines duping away. More than ever he was chafing for some action. He looked around at the other Resistance members busy at their own tasks. Then he walked casually toward a door, took a final glance back to be certain he was unobserved, and snuck out.

  Ayden and Kayta were taking some strange instruments out of the back of their sleek motorcycle when Kayta turned her head sharply toward the warehouse. Ayden knew her keen senses had detected something else and he followed her eye line. They both watched as Nathan appeared and went into a small attached garage. He emerged a moment later driving a dusty, sputtering Honda Civic in a direction opposite the one Julie and Margarita had taken.

  Kayta turned her violet eyes to Ayden. "I told you he was impetuous."

  "Or perhaps duplicitous," Ayden pointed out. "Try to discover which."

  Kayta started the motorcycle, which made almost no sound, and expertly drove away, leaving Ayden to calibrate one of the handheld instruments and train it carefully on the Resistance headquarters.

  11

  BY MIDDAY, NATHAN AVERY WAS AT THE CHEMICAL FACTORY WHERE he knew Blue worked. He had hidden the Honda several blocks away and had been skirting the factory's fenced perimeter looking for an access point. He reached the front parking lot opposite the entrance, which was gated by a heavy Cyclone fence that opened electrically on rollers. A security guard station was just outside the gate. Nathan stayed low among the parked cars as he squinted from the sunlight and tried to figure a way in.

  He saw a large tractor trailer tank truck approach and stop by the guard shack. The security guard checked some paperwork, then opened the gate and waved the driver in. As the eighteen-wheeler lumbered past the guard, he nodded to the smiling Teammate who was riding on the back. It was Nathan.

  Chemical engineer Dr. Charles Elgin stood frowning and stoop-shouldered as he took readings from one of the factory's numerous control panels in the midst of a forest of pipes. He jotted notations on a clipboard-sized PDA as Stella Stein approached with concern on her face. She whispered urgently to him, "My husband disappeared."

  Charles looked at her curiously, pushing up his glasses. His frown intensified. "Excuse me? What?"

  "A Patrol captain said he'd been killed by the Resistance"—she leaned closer, more confidentially—"but my son swears the Visitors took him away." She waited for Charles to speak but he just stared at her. "Can you find out anything about him?"
r />   "What are you talking about? Why would I have any idea—?"

  "I figured, you being a Sci, you might be able to help me."

  Charles was completely confused and put off by her. "How could I do that?"

  Stella glanced over her shoulder nervously whispering, "I thought you probably know people in the Resistance."

  "What? No!" Charles hissed angrily, "For God's sake, Stella. I'm just doing my job here, doing the best I can to keep my family alive. I don't know anything about the Resistance. And I never heard you even ask me about it, okay?" He turned sharply and walked away, passing Blue who had been adjusting a valve nearby and whose eyes were trained on Stella.

  Another area within the pipes of the factory was characterized by a circular tank large enough to hold an elephant. Red signs on the side of it warned of Danger and Corrosive Acid. Beside it was a wall of vertical parallel pipes that looked like those of a huge church organ. Nathan paused there to snag a PDA notebook and a hard hat, which he felt would make him look more authoritative. Then he officiously asked a passing employee, "Where's that new Visitor chemical in the works?" The man pointed a direction and Nathan headed that way.

  At the factory's front gate the tractor of the eighteen-wheeler had dropped off its tanker trailer and was now driving out, but the gate guard waved it to a stop, calling to the driver, "Hey, where's your buddy who was riding on the back?"

  The driver frowned, puzzled. "What the hell are you talking about? I didn't have anybody with me."

  Nathan had reached a section with massive pipes, each the size of a mature oak tree trunk. His sharp eyes were taking in every detail, but not finding the information he was looking for. He approached a worried-looking man who was taking readings from a control panel. "Hey, there." Charles Elgin jumped slightly as he turned to see Nathan strolling up. "Hi"—Nathan was treating Charles like an old acquaintance—"listen, the front office needs up-to-date stats on the new chemical, but I got turned around and I don't remember where exactly the work is going on."

  Then a shout attracted their attention, "You!" The gate guard was coming toward them along with two plant security guards and several Teammates. "Hold it right there!"

  Nathan grinned tightly at Charles. "We'll talk later." Then Nathan took off running.

  The Teammate leader already had his pulse weapon out and when he saw Nathan bolt, he raised it to fire. The security guard shouted for him not to shoot, but the warning came too late. The Teammate fired two shots. Charles had ducked down and the energy bursts flashed overhead. One blasted against a pipe behind him and ruptured it, triggering a fiery explosion that blew Charles flat. He was pinned down mere inches beneath boiling gas flames that were spraying out horizontally right over his head. Uncaring about Charles, the guards and Teammates rushed around the flames pursuing Nathan.

  Big Blue had witnessed the attack and saw the fiery blast that was threatening to incinerate Charles alive. Blue grabbed a coil of electrical cable and hurled one end in to Charles. "Grab it, Charles! Quick!"

  Charles stretched for it but the cable had fallen short. He cried out, "I can't reach it!"

  Blue pulled the cable back. Then, risking his own life, he edged closer to the roiling flames. He saw Charles's clothes beginning to ignite. Blue threw the cable a second time for all he was worth. Charles grabbed it with hands that were already reddening from the raging inferno just inches above him.

  "Hang on, man!" Blue began dragging him out. "Hang on!" Though his own face was scorching, Blue persevered and pulled Charles clear of the flames. Soaked with sweat and with their clothes smoldering, they collapsed against each other, breathing hard.

  Near the front gate Nathan came running out from amid the pipes of the five-story industrial complex as pulse bursts from his pursuers exploded closer and closer to him. He saw a small truck headed for the gate and he jumped onto the running board. Pulling the door open he yanked the startled driver right out and sent him somersaulting onto the pavement. Then Nathan dropped into the driver's seat himself and burned rubber toward the gate just as a Teammate Humvee from within the plant screeched around a corner in hot pursuit.

  The heavy gate was closed but Nathan floored his accelerator and crashed right through it, setting off a loud alarm. He looked in his rearview and saw that the Teammate Humvee was gaining on him, but then Nathan's ears popped as a powerful sonic concussion blew the Humvee right over onto its top.

  Nathan looked back, as startled as everyone else who had witnessed the amazing phenomenon. He was completely confused about what in the world could have caused the one-and-a-half-ton Humvee to go flying.

  Neither Nathan nor anyone else saw Kayta duck down among the parked cars near the front gate. Her violet eyes had the calm, focused look of a dangerous professional soldier. She was holding a weapon the size of a thick sawed-off shotgun. Though small, it was obviously formidable. On its business end there was a palm-sized, wire mesh dish antenna that snapped closed and back, disappearing inside the weapon like a startled sea anemone while Kayta watched Nathan drive away.

  WILLY WAS LEADING MARTIN QUICKLY THROUGH THE DARK, HUMID, labyrinthine passageways that laced like arteries through the bowels of the Flagship.

  "Jon was one of the first half-breeds," Willy was saying. "His no-good father got the human mother cocooned and tossed his infant son down into the janitor unit."

  Martin was appalled by such behavior. "Do you know who his father was?"

  "Shawn."

  Martin glanced at Willy, then shook his head in disgust. "Why am I not surprised?"

  "Jon's a nice boy though. He's educated himself."

  "And you said he's very intelligent?"

  Willy nodded emphatically. "Off the carts."

  "You mean charts?"

  "Ah. Charts. Yes. Down this way."

  They reached the small chamber where Jon's custodial equipment was housed. The floating module was docked and recharging. As Martin went slightly deeper into the low-ceilinged area he was surprised to discover that Jon had fashioned this hovel into a combination nest, laboratory, and library. Martin smiled at the half-breed's inventiveness. Jon had used discarded parts and supplies, cleverly crafting and adapting them to his use. The boy's back was partly to them and Martin saw that Jon was intently studying some kind of complicated technical text on a vid. Then Jon realized they were there and beamed. "William!"

  "I brought a friend to meet you. This is Martin."

  They exchanged greetings and Martin complimented the eighteen-year-old. "Quite an impressive lodging you've created."

  Jon's human-looking eyes glowed with modest humor. "Oh, just a bit of Swiss Family Robinson Crusoe, sir. Necessity being the mother of all invention."

  Willy proffered a small packet. "Take a look."

  Jon's blue eyes widened. "New data plugs!" He examined them and got even more excited. "Tenctonese biogeometrics! I'd been searching for this one. You are indeed a prince, sir!"

  "I'm glad you like them." Then Willy's tone grew more serious. "Jon, I'm hoping you might be able to help us."

  The boy looked up quizzically, and Willy explained.

  A few minutes later the transport tube door opened on a still-lower level and Jon guided his floating module out into the dim, steamy passageway followed by Willy and Martin, the latter of whom was saying, "I didn't realize that the custodial crew had such extensive access to these levels."

  Jon's scaly, misshapen reptilian mouth twisted into what Martin assumed was a knowing smile. "Ever read The Invisible Man, sir? That's rather like being a dreg janitor." He glanced playfully at Martin. "No one really sees you." Then Jon bowed acknowledgment toward Willy. "Present company excepted. But as you surmised, sir, it does give one access to almost the entire ship. Including this next section."

  They had reached an oily black hatch with Restricted Entry warnings on it. Jon entered his key code and the heavy hatch slid open revealing another dark passage where moisture was condensing on the low, variegated ceiling and dr
ipping from it. He indicated for them to be quiet and stay back. Then he cautiously walked ahead of them toward an intersection.

  As Jon rounded the corner he could see the laser-barred cell that Martin had described. He caught a brief glimpse of the bearded, bestial prisoner huddled deep in one dark corner. A muscular Visitor guard was on station and very grouchy about his assignment there. His reptilian face had a long scar across one of his brown, scaly cheeks, which lent him an additional aura of menace. The fingers on one of his leathery hands were dripping with blood that he sucked off, then he reached again into a nearby food container. He extracted a short length of some medium-sized mammal's intestines and thrust it into his mouth, making a small gulping motion upward with his chin to encourage passage of the entrails down his thick throat.

  He was looking at his personal viz unit that was projecting a motion hologram showing three of his fellow reptiles naked and engaged in a sexual ménage à trois. He glanced up with annoyance as Jon took a container of cleaning fluid from his module. "Be quick about it, dreg. I hate the smell of that shit."

  Jon was feigning some difficulty in opening the cleaning container. "Yes, sir. I will, sir." Then the lid suddenly popped loose, "accidentally" spilling some of the fluid onto the guard.

  The big Visitor leaped up and slapped Jon very hard. "Ahk! You stupid dreg!"

  "I'm so sorry, sir. You must wash it off. Quickly! This way!" Jon hurried the guard farther down the dingy passage and out of sight. Martin quickly walked into the cell area and held one of Jon's cleaning tools up over the security camera lens while Willy turned off the laser bars that crisscrossed the cell's entrance. Then Willy moved cautiously toward the fetid cell. He saw small, empty drug packets on the malodorous, smeary floor as he gently approached the crippled, bestial prisoner who was staring at him with wild and fearful eyes.

  "Easy"—Willy held out a calming hand—"we're here to help you. Can you speak?" Willy only heard a grunt of warning. "Why does Diana keep you in this special cell? Were you with the Resistance?"