by SW Matthews
When she lowered herself back down, she was smiling. She grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. The group followed.
“Your cousin is waiting for you in the Nog,” she said.
“Okay… good. Thanks, Nis,” mumbled Jaq. He looked over at Rosie, but she wouldn’t look at him. Her jaw was protruding and her eyes were straight ahead.
“Who is this, Jaq?” Kat asked.
“This is… Nis. Anissa,” Jaq replied. “My… girlfriend.”
Kat and Doc exchanged a look. Rosie didn’t say a word.
They walked deeper into the hub, the activity around them increasing, until they came to a metal door guarded by two armed men. Nis opened the door, and the group entered a large room filled with people working on computers. The only light was from the hundreds of computer monitors, and from a lit-up map of Denver on the back wall.
From out of the darkness came a loud “Jaq!” A large man appeared, embraced Jaq, and lifted him from the ground. “I have not seen you in months, my cousin!”
“It’s been busy at the hospital, Sepe,” Jaq managed to say through the embrace.
“Busy here, too,” replied the large man as he set his cousin down. He was only a few inches taller than Jaq, but much heavier. His head was bald, except for his dark bushy eyebrows and thick mustache. His face was covered in tattoos, even his large and bulbous nose, but his smile was broad and welcoming, and exposed many gold teeth. His bright purple shirt was open at the collar and rolled to his elbows, exposing more tattoos, gold chains around his neck, and rings on his fingers. He turned to the group. “I think I know most of your friends. We have been keeping track of events around the city. But please, introduce us.”
Jaq turned to the others. “This is my cousin, Jusepe Monjez. He runs the show here.”
“Please, call me Sepe, everyone does,” the large man said.
Rosie extended a hand. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Rosie.”
Sepe gently grabbed her hand and bent over to kiss it. “Ms. Braxton, it is a pleasure to meet you. Even more beautiful in person.”
Rosie blushed as the large man let her hand fall away.
“And Dr. Braxton,” Sepe said, shaking hands with Doc. “A pleasure to meet you as well.”
“Likewise,” said Doc.
Sepe then turned to Kat. “You are more of a mystery. All of our information indicates that you are Katherine Hoff—and that you are dead. Can you solve the puzzle for us?”
“I am Katherine Braxton, not Hoff, and I am not dead.”
Sepe laughed heartily. “Excellent! You are not dead! Mystery solved! Welcome, Katherine!”
Finally, Sepe faced Tuck. “As to your police friend, I have no information,” he said suspiciously.
Tuck stepped forward. “I’m Tucker Zann.”
Sepe eyed Tuck carefully. “I am more than a little suspicious of an officer in our midst, especially one I have no history of.”
“I’m not actually a police officer,” said Tuck. “I’m just a cargo hauler for a company in Lakeland.”
“We can vouch for him,” said Doc. “He’s our friend.”
Another man appeared beside Sepe and handed him a tablet computer. Sepe looked at the screen and started reading out loud.
“Tucker Zann, born in Kalispell, Montana, in 2077. Enlisted in the navy after high school. Qualified expert sniper and gunner for the HAT during the Mexican War. Wounded in battle and granted an honorable discharge. Returned to family home but all records missing since 2104.” Sepe stopped and looked up at Tuck. “You were a sniper in the war?”
“I was.”
Sepe lowered the tablet and stared intently at Tuck. “And where were you deployed, if I may ask?”
“Texas desert.”
The large Mexican’s eyes narrowed. “My twin brother was killed by a sniper during the war, in the Texas desert.”
Everyone was silent as all eyes turned to Tuck.
Tuck shook his head. “Wasn’t me,” he said calmly as he stared into Sepe’s eyes. “I would remember that nose.”
Sepe burst out laughing and slapped Tuck on the shoulder. “He was an ass, anyway. The evil twin, I called him.”
Everyone relaxed.
“Tell me, Tucker Zann, if you are a cargo hauler from Lakeland, how are you in Denver dressed as a police officer?”
“It’s a long story. But I arrived here in my underwear, and the officer was the first person I ran into. I took his clothes.”
Sepe looked at him slyly. “Fearless and inventive,” he said. “I like it. I can help you, Tucker Zann, but first let me get the whole story from my cousin and his friends.”
Kat spoke up. “Is there someplace we can go to talk? Your office, maybe?”
Sepe smiled. “There are no secrets from the Nog.” He made a sweeping gesture toward the room of computers.
“This is a matter of national security,” said Kat.
Sepe smiled wider. “National security, hmmm?” He turned his head a little, keeping his eyes on Kat, and said loudly, “Where is President Porter right now?”
A voice from the room called out, “Porter is in a tunnel under the Denver Art Museum, about two blocks away from the capitol.”
“And his double?”
“Double is approaching the capitol in a motorcade, coming down Colfax, approximately six blocks away.”
Sepe smiled at Kat. “Apart from us, no one even knows there is a body double for the president, much less where he is, or about the tunnel system they use.”
“Impressive,” Kat admitted. “But the information we have is not about the president, it’s about who controls him.”
“Your father,” Sepe said.
Kat looked at her brother, then back to Sepe.
“Don’t be surprised, Katherine,” said Sepe. “Our entire existence depends on information, and we have become very proficient at obtaining it.”
Kat nodded. “Okay, we’ll tell you—as long as you’ll help us.”
“I will help you as long as doing so does not endanger my friends and family here.”
Kat looked at Doc, who nodded.
“It all started about a year ago…” Doc began.
Chapter 40
By the time Mr. Bo and the boys approached Workshop One, the morning had grown warm, and the boys had long ago shed their puffy coats. The place was teeming with people, all was dressed in black shirts with long sleeves, black pants, and black boots. Many also had white tunics, and some had green cloaks, like Mr. Bo’s. Children played together and ran through crowds. Men prepared food over open fires, tending roasting meat or stirring the contents of woks. On a small level field, men and women practiced some type of martial art, and beyond them were a few people practicing archery. The sounds of gunfire echoed faintly in the distance.
However, no matter what each person was doing, they all stopped as the boys approached. Some merely stared, while others, to the boys’ surprise, knelt and wept. By the time Mr. Bo had led them to the entrance of a cliffside building, the entire village was silent and watching them. The boys were happy to get inside and away from the staring crowds.
Inside, Mr. Bo removed his cloak and turned to his guests. “Please just set your coats aside and follow me.”
“What’s going on here, Mr. Bo?” Pol asked as the boys laid their coats in a pile.
“Yeah,” said Gill. “Why is everyone acting so funny out there?”
Mr. Bo smiled. “Mr. Ken will explain everything. Please hold your questions for him.”
The interior of the structure was vast, apparently carved from the mountain itself. It had multiple rooms, many with fireplaces, several of which were warming pots or kettles. The rooms were furnished with chairs of bamboo and leather and tables of painted wood, and multicolored curtains fluttered in the breeze through the open windows in the thick walls. The few people they encountered as they walked down the hallways acted much like the ones outside.
Finally, they stopped before a closed door
, and Mr. Bo knocked once.
The door was opened by a small Chinese man. He appeared ancient, with a deeply wrinkled face shaved smooth. His white hair was thick, but cut close, making him appear almost bald. He wore glasses with large lenses, and he smiled with his entire face, showing crooked yellow teeth without remorse. Like the others, he was dressed in black and white.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he said happily in a gentle, high-pitched voice. “Please come in.” To Mr. Bo he added, “Thank you, Mr. Bo. Please acquire appropriate clothing for our guests.”
Mr. Bo bowed and walked away.
“Come, sit,” the man said, motioning toward a mat on the floor of his small chamber. Four cups and a steaming kettle were already waiting for them.
The boys entered the room and sat next to each other on one side of the mat.
“You knew we were coming?” Pol asked.
“Oh, yes, I have been waiting for you for some time now,” the old man said, smiling.
“How?” asked Gill suspiciously.
The old man pushed up the wide sleeve of his white tunic, exposing a commlink on his wrist. “Mr. Bo sent me a message several hours ago.”
The boys looked at each other, then back at the old man.
“I am Mr. Ken,” he said, bowing low. “We have much to talk about.” He sat on the mat across from them and began pouring tea.
Pol accepted his cup. “Thank you,” he said before taking a small sip. “I am Pol Smallboy, and these are my brothers, Leef and Gill.” The brothers each nodded to Mr. Ken as Pol said their name. “We are supposed to meet with Vice President Zhen, to try and stop the coming war.”
The old man sipped calmly from his cup. “There is a war coming,” he said. “And you definitely have a part to play in it. But not by meeting with Zhen.”
The boys look at each other, then back to Mr. Ken.
“What do you mean?” Pol asked.
“We have been battling the Chinese government for a very long time. Slowly, very slowly, we have made progress. Only recently have we begun to take small victories, and in doing so, recruit more people.”
“You’re talking about the Xanwiti?” Leef asked.
Mr. Ken nodded.
“But we are trying to stop a war between the UNA and China,” Pol explained.
The old man nodded. “Wars between countries are certainly loathsome. Many, many good people die, or have their lives destroyed. However, in the end, the only battles that are truly important are those between governments and the people they are trying to control.”
“Why are you fighting the government?” Leef asked.
Mr. Ken turned to the green boy. “Our government is starving our poorest citizens. Those who are lucky enough to be provided food and shelter are subjected to horrendous torture. In addition, our government is hastening the demise of our planet.”
“Starving?” said Pol. “I thought synthetic food could be provided to everyone.”
“It could, and in fact it was—until a few years ago. For some reason, the UNA stopped supplying China with synthetics. We have tried to discover why, and we have contacts throughout China, in all walks of life, but the full answer has not been uncovered. All we know for sure is that a disagreement between the two countries resulted in an end to synthetic food in China. We suspect it had to do with the development of the replicators.”
“What is a replicator?” Leef asked.
“A very powerful machine, Mr. Leef,” replied Mr. Ken. “It can create any type of matter, including food, using only the basic elements, like hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, and so on.”
“It can just make… anything? Out of thin air?”
Mr. Ken nodded. “As long as the chemical and physical structure is completely mapped out, and the supply of fundamental matter is sufficient.”
“That is amazing!”
“Then there shouldn’t be a food shortage,” said Gill.
“Unless there is only one replicator,” said Pol. “Or if it takes a long time to work.”
“China currently has twelve replicators that we know of, nine of which are functional, and they can create matter in minutes, or even seconds.”
“Then why are people starving?” Gil asked.
Mr. Ken watched Pol, as if waiting for him to come up with the answer.
“Maybe it takes too much energy to run them?” Pol suggested.
The old man smiled. “That is one reason, Mr. Pol. A great deal of energy is needed. That is why the replicators, except for the first one, are located at nuclear power plants throughout China. All of the energy generated goes to replicator function.”
Pol looked at Mr. Ken. “Then they aren’t all making food,” he said.
Mr. Ken smiled again. “That is the other reason. Only one of the replicators is devoted to food production, and that food is only delivered to the urban areas and the military. The rest of China is left to fend for itself with farming, mostly rice, and hunting and fishing. Unfortunately, the nuclear plants were built in the best hunting and fishing lands, and they have contaminated much of the wildlife. And that is when they are functioning properly. A meltdown occurred in Aksu, rendering the entire town and surrounding area uninhabitable.”
“So, if they replicators aren’t making food, what are they making?” asked Pol.
“War supplies. Ammunition, guns, explosives, battle machines, electronic components. Whatever they could possibly need for a large-scale war.”
“You said they were torturing people,” said Leef. “Did you mean by starving them?”
“That’s part of it, but it is worse. Last year some of our members in the Naggu area found a mass grave in the countryside. Hundreds of people dumped in a large pit and left to rot. So they decided to monitor the area. They found government trucks were coming to the site every few months and adding hundreds more bodies to the pit. Further investigation uncovered many more pits, all of them like the first, full of decomposing bodies. The bodies were horribly mutilated.”
Leef started crying. Pol rubbed his shoulder to try to comfort him.
“What do you mean by mutilated?” Gill asked.
Mr. Ken sighed. “They had… holes, all over them. Head, back, arms… all covered with holes full of pus and blood. Many were also missing their eyes.”
“Why would anyone do that?” Pol asked.
“That we don’t know. But finding the pits was the rallying point for the Xanwiti. It was the proof we needed to anger our followers to act. We burned all of the sites we could find and attacked the city. We were able to shut down the military base for a short time, though we couldn’t get in. It is too well fortified. But we did manage to confiscate several truckloads of food, and we delivered them to the starving citizens outside of town.”
“So is Xanwiti some type of… religion?” Gill asked.
“Not at all, Mr. Gill. The Xanwiti do not espouse the existence of a supreme being. We do not strive to enter into a magical kingdom when we perish, nor do we try to keep the demons of hell at bay. We simply try to follow the three fundamental guidelines of the Xanwiti. Our belief is that by doing so, we can save the human race.”
“What are the three guidelines?” asked Leef, wiping his eyes.
“Rational thought, deliberate action, and altruistic intention.”
“Is this place a… what’s it called? Monastery?” Pol asked.
“It is, Mr. Pol. Long ago the Chinese government rounded up all of the monks and priests, and anyone who claimed to be religious. When that happened, these great monasteries were left vacant. This is the one I came to after my… vision.”
“What vision?” asked Gill.
“The vision that changed my life, Mr. Gill. And this is what I have been waiting most of my life to talk with you about, although I never truly believed the opportunity would arise. But don’t let me get ahead of myself. Let’s start at the beginning. Do you boys know what happened in 2051?”
“The cataclysm,” said Leef.
Mr. Ken nodded somberly. “That is correct. Worldwide devastation, initiated in the Ring of Fire but affecting every part of the earth. Earthquakes, volcanoes, tidal waves. No one was spared. Entire countries disappeared, others merged, and war erupted. A war unlike any ever witnessed on earth. Hundreds of thousands of nuclear warheads, all over the world. The USA, which was the precursor to the UNA, had the best defense system, and most of the central part of the country sustained little damage, but the rest of the planet was bombarded for many days. The resultant weather changes caused massive storms and flooding. It took many years for the weather patterns to become somewhat predictable again.
“My family and I were lucky. We lived in the city of Lhasa. It was just a small city at the time and was not targeted by the nuclear weapons. It became the capital after Beijing was destroyed and all of lower China flooded. I was forty-six years old and had worked for the Chinese government for over twenty years. I was an engineer and believed myself to be a man of science and reason. My life was structured, just as I believed the universe to be. Everything was logical and understandable. If something didn’t make sense, it was only because we did not have enough information. I had no use for deities of any kind. My belief was that when you died the game was over. That’s all.
“Of course, this was not unusual. By this time the government had outlawed all forms of religion and had even locked up those who would not give up their religions. I remember thinking those people were idiots. Throwing their lives away over a fairy tale of which there was never any proof.
“Then, one night, I had a dream. I didn’t understand it and tried to forget it, but it kept coming back to me. I started having the same dream almost every night. It started in a desert. There was no life. No birds, no plants. Only sand and sun and wind. But in the distance was a lone figure, a man, standing alone and naked, with the sand blowing all around him. As I drew closer I saw that the man’s skin and hair were white as ivory, yet he did not burn in the sun, and he did not flinch from the sand.”