by Mark Lingane
“Peacemaker, we speak so soon.”
“Yes, Center.”
“Q-backer,” Brad corrected.
“As you wish. I understand that the last weeks have been difficult with the various skirmishes, but I’ve been talking to people and discussing the issues, and we’ve made great progress in resolving many misunderstandings. It’s wonderful what a little perspective will do.”
“Continue,” Brad said. “I like it when misunderstandings are resolved.”
“I’ve spoken to the Chargers. Do you know this Clint man?”
“I’m sorry to say I do.”
“We’ve had long discussions, and he has found … enlightenment. Between you and me, I think he finds running the pipeline and defending it too difficult, and the situation with this new flu … he’s an inexperienced man with more passion than strategy.”
“What does their q-backer say about it?”
“He’s completely onboard as well. He’s recalling them all, and they want to make a treaty. My main concern is for you now. We need your input so there’s an understanding of requirements. The Chargers may be an important treaty, as I’ve heard, and I can’t confirm or deny that the Seahawks are breaking the treaty. If you continue to the north, proceed with caution because they could be hostile. Do you have sufficient weaponry to protect yourself?”
“I’m a soldier.”
“I don’t want to interfere, but if you want support to establish control over the northern pipelines, I can enlist others, as well as my own troops. I have them all on standby now.”
“Well, that’s a mighty fine offer,” Brad said. “I’ll discuss it at the appropriate level and get back to you.”
“Of course, of course. I leave it with you.”
Brad’s voice disappeared and was replaced by the Peacemaker’s distinct, disturbed and manic tones.
“Tab A into slot B,” he cackled repeatedly. His voice faded, and the room fell into the silence of the abandoned.
57
THE TRIO SNEAKED into the large chamber. Against the walls were swaying plants that reached to the ceiling. Sebastian went over to them. His hand passed through the illusion. He moved his head from side to side, matching the flow of the plants. His eyes widened and he stepped through the wall. His head reappeared, poking out through the image. He beckoned to the others to follow.
“This is so weird,” Memphis said, “The wall looks one hundred percent real.”
A small alcove sat behind the wall of light. Inside the alcove was a long box with a frosted glass lid. Sebastian wiped his hand over the glass, revealing a woman’s face. Several figures appeared on the glass, all in red.
“It’s Acacia,” Sebastian said. “Is she dead?”
“Close enough. This is a stasis pod, a kind of super-intense life support. Totally expensive,” Will said.
“I can feel something happening, like a catapult being wound up, a tension in the air that’s increasing.”
“Hello, Sebastian,” Christopher intoned.
Sebastian stopped in his tracks. “There’s no way you can know who I am.”
“There is one way,” Christopher said. “Niels told me. He said you would come.”
“This Niels person is sounding more interesting by the minute.”
“Or creepy,” Memphis said.
Christopher continued. “You need to take something, Sebastian. He asked me to continue the analysis and development on his project. It’s ready. You need to go to his quarters. On the table there’s a red stick. Get it and take it with you.”
“What is it?” Sebastian replied.
“It’s Iris, the information requantification intelligence system.”
“Snappy,” Memphis said.
“How do we get there?” Sebastian asked Christopher.
“Descend in the elevator. Keep to the right. You’ll find his quarters.”
The lights flickered and the room went dark. The plants dissolved to reveal the barren and crumbling walls. They all turned to stare at the ancient and infested elevator. The doors creaked open.
“You trust the psychotic machine?” Will said.
They peered out of the elevator into a gloomy room. Everything was blackness except for a dull glow emanating from the walls. They could hear voices. They crept along the wall, brushing against the thick mold. The smell made Memphis gag. The air in the room was thick and vile. Sebastian blinked repeatedly, and felt the stench sinking into his sinuses.
“Smells like Edward’s gym locker,” Will whispered.
Sebastian pointed to the right, and they turned the corner, moving away from the voices. They made several more turns and descended deeper underground. When they came to a dead end, a panel in the wall slid open. They stepped into a light and airy room. The musky air was blown away by a fresh breeze carrying the scent of heavy earth that came through an opening that let in a view of the sky. They could hear running water. Every item in the room, from the furniture to the books on the shelves, was in perfect condition. Everything was clean, dry, and an oasis away from the world outside.
They walked around the amazing room with its towering walls filled with thousands of tightly packed books. There was a small woolen bear placed neatly on a small bed at one end of the room. Memphis picked it up and held it in her hands, staring into its forlorn little face.
“Hey, strange echo-y disembodied voice,” Sebastian called out.
“I am activated by the term Christopher,” was the response.
“Is that your name?” Memphis asked.
“It’s tech,” Will said. He ran his hands along the immense bank of old books. “Tech doesn’t have a name.”
“I am activated by the term Christopher,” Christopher repeated.
“Christopher, does the Peacemaker know you aren’t really on his side?” Sebastian said.
“The Peacemaker is given the information he needs to know.”
“These books are all very science-y. Physics and stuff,” Will said. It took considerable effort for him to extract one.
“Can you read?” Memphis said.
Will gave her a look. “Hey, there’s one missing.”
“How can you tell?”
“There’s a gap.” He looked up. “All the books are packed in tightly with no spaces between. But look at this space here. I wonder what was so important about that book.”
“You’ll find the stick on the table,” Christopher said. The synthetic voice was calm but insistent.
Sebastian went over to the long wooden table, taking note of a camera in one corner of the room. “Are you watching me, Christopher?” he said.
“That is my primary purpose.”
“Watching me?”
“Watching. Learning. Developing probability around behavior.”
Sebastian nodded. He had heard all this before, back home. He picked up the small red stick. Four letters were written on it. Sebastian read the word the letters spelled out and laughed. In his hand, on the tiny stick, he held his past.
“What do I do with this?”
“It will become apparent.”
“Are you sure? Life is uncertain.”
“The probability trees have shown that you have a direct path to your destiny. It will become apparent. Probably.”
“I assume the probability calculations on this,” he said, holding the stick up to the camera, “are better.”
“Yes. A magnitude greater than mine.”
“Hear that, Will?” Memphis said. “Even the tech of a megalomaniac is more humble than you. What do we do know?” she asked Sebastian.
“Look for a genius,” Sebastian replied. “Come on, guys, let’s get going.” He gave a final glance at the camera.
The lens twirled and zoomed as it focused in on his face. The black-and-white image flickered on the display. Hands swiped at the display, turning and magnifying the image. There was a short laugh. A large mug was placed down next to the display. Brown liquid spilled, splashing across the screen.
“Come to me,” the voice said, as a hand stroked the image of Sebastian’s face.
The trio made their way back out of the little oasis, but not before Memphis had stuffed the teddy bear into her pack.
They heard the voices again as they approached the old elevator. Two people were arguing.
“And another thing,” one of the voices said. “The weapons and food he’s providing are unacceptable. He promised quality. They’re giving us strong resistance.” The voice was gruff and hoarse, and intermittent coughs punctuated the speaker’s words.
“I ain’t the one to tell your troubles to. If I was a care factory, I’d be closing the business due to lack of available supply.” The second voice had a manic, upbeat tone.
There was a pause before the first man spoke again. “You’re an idiot.”
“Shh, did you hear something?” the second man said.
“Don’t tell me to be quiet.”
“I thought I heard the elevator. You can get your pay then complain somewhere else. Be thankful you ain’t stuck in an underground dungeon guarding these things.”
“You can tell him that if he doesn’t pay I’m going to take—”
“Take what? You ain’t got no rights.” The man took a step toward the elevator, peering into the gloom. He shone his lantern in the direction of the noise he had heard and took out his gun.
As soon as Sebastian saw the man and identified him as an outlaw, he leapt at him and leveled his sword. The man’s weapon clattered to the stone floor.
The second man found Memphis holding a dagger against his throat. He fumbled for his duress button, but it had been knocked out of his hand. He thrust a long black stick into Memphis’s stomach.
Will came up behind him and twisted the stick, just as the man pressed the button. A sharp stab of light and a buzzing sound erupted from the end of the device. Will ripped it out of the guard’s hand and it fell to the floor. The man raised his hands as he felt the barrel of a gun in his back. Memphis whacked the pommel of the dagger across his face and he fell to the ground.
In minutes, they had tied the two men’s hands behind their backs.
Will picked up the strange weapon and was pressing the button repeatedly, mesmerized by the bright burst of intense light shorting across the two prongs each time he activated it. Bzzztz. He crouched down and held it in front of the guard, who was clearly an outlaw.
“What’s this?” he said.
“A blackstick,” the guard squeaked. “I use it to herd those … things.” He indicated the dark cells behind them.
Will glanced over his shoulder. Sebastian was staring into the cells.
“What’s an outlaw doing here?” Will said. Bzzztz.
“Business,” the man yelped.
“How can we get out of here without using the elevator?” Will asked the guard. Bzzztz.
“There’s a service entrance.”
“For the businessmen? Lead the way.”
Will grabbed the guard’s collar and pulled him to his feet. He stepped in close behind him and zapped him on the backside. Bzzztz. The guard screamed and jumped forward, clutching at his frazzled buttocks.
The outlaw was brought to his feet, and the group moved toward the entrance, accompanied by occasional buzzing sounds followed by high-pitched screeches.
In the darkness, the large hands of the sullivans wrapped around the iron bars. Their initial instinct when they heard the buzzing sound was to recoil, expecting the light and pain. But there was no light. There was no pain. They stepped close to the bars, wrapped their hefty hands around them, and started to bend the metal. The points of their metallic teeth gleamed in the low light.
58
THE MAKESHIFT CAMP outside the citadel was quiet. Men were milling around, unsure of what had happened.
Chet had a sick feeling that, when the time had come, he had not been the man he thought he was. He had stood by and watched a boy get dragged away to the cells, not having the courage to stand up and add his voice to the dissent against the Peacemaker. He had forgotten the reason why he had come, and instead he had become wrapped up in the anger and bravado of the newcomers, who didn’t have the same agenda.
Chet found himself being wrenched up off the ground, straight into the face of Sebastian. His eyes widened in surprise.
“Gather everyone,” Sebastian said, and pushed him away. And then he was gone.
In a daze, Chet assembled everyone around the campfire. Confused, they milled around until they stopped asking unanswered questions. Sebastian strode into the middle of the group, kicked over a box, and stepped up onto it. Guilt kept the men quiet as he started to speak.
“I’ve just been inside the citadel and found out some interesting truths. We came here because the Peacemaker was threatening the smaller towns. He was making promises, but not delivering on them. He points at enemies in the mist who aren’t there. He points at friends and says you shouldn’t trust them. I heard him speak to the Forty-ninth Division. He promised them an end to the turmoil. None of you are Forty-ninth. Has he offered the same to you? He said he would offer immunity to anyone who chose to live here under his stewardship, whatever their beliefs, whatever their alliances. But the reality is, and you’ve seen this with your own eyes, he only wants to attack. He lies, because what the Peacemaker really wants is control of the oil out of Alaska. And he wants the oil so he can fight against the Master. You’re just pawns in his grand game.”
He indicated for Will to bring forward the captives.
“We found these two in the dungeons under the citadel,” Sebastian said. “An outlaw waiting to be paid by the Peacemaker for inciting trouble, and a guard who keeps sullivans locked up, the very same ones that attacked Eureka two nights ago. And we also found this evil weapon.” He raised the blackstick in the air and discharged it, demonstrating its power.
“If he was guarding those beasts …” one man called out. “What did you call them?”
“Sullivans.”
“Yeah, them, with that blackstick electro-thing, who’s guarding them now?”
Sebastian and Will looked at each other.
They heard a low rumbling noise. The sound quickly turned into a fierce howl. The scream of twisting metal came out from the citadel, and out of the service entrance lumbered six sullivans.
Sebastian turned to Memphis. “You start the burner and get the bike ready. I’ll take care of this.”
“How are you going to fight against so many?”
“This time, I know what I’m doing.” He ripped the sword out of its scabbard and charged.
The men panicked and ran in all directions. The sullivans, towering above the fleeing men, used their oversized fists to smash them aside like bowling pins. The semi-reptilian and bear-like heads twisted and lunged after the swarming people. Weapons were fired, but made no impact on the thick skin of the creatures.
Sebastian ran forward and ducked in under one of the creatures, slicing into both its legs. It fell forward. Sebastian positioned himself under the head, and drove his sword upward as it crashed down on top of him. He held the sword aloft, with the elongated body stretched out behind the head. The creature squirmed momentarily before going still.
Chet turned to Will. “Is he holding up two tons of monster?”
Will was also stunned. “Maybe they’re lighter than they look. Hollow legs, empty head or something.”
Sebastian struggled free of the beast as a large fist swung toward him. He dropped and flattened himself against the ground as the fist brushed inches above his head.
Another sullivan crashed into a building, its shoulder driving deep into the fragile structure. The walls collapsed and the building began to topple. The one next to it was full of people who had sought refuge. They screamed as the sullivan approached, its fists swinging from side to side.
Sebastian ran over to Memphis. “They’re making a mess of the place. We have to lure them away somehow.”
“Lure? As in
make them chase us?”
“It’s the only way to keep all the people safe.”
“You do know we’re also counted as people.”
They jumped onto the back of the bike. The burner was only moderately hot and the bike could only limp forward at half speed.
A sullivan ran in from behind and grabbed at the bike. Will had jumped into one of the trucks and now drove it into the sullivan. The front of the truck buckled around the solid body, and the creature turned and slammed its fists down onto the vehicle’s roof. It pounded blow after blow onto the truck until the cab had completely caved in. It picked up the vehicle and rolled it onto its side.
Memphis gasped. “No!” she cried.
The sullivan snapped its head around and came after them again. Sebastian spun the bike around and headed toward it, swinging wide at the last moment. They ducked under the massive hand that swung over their heads. Sebastian steered the bike toward a pile of rubble, twisting the accelerator as far as it would go. The bike sailed into the air and landed directly on the back of another sullivan, knocking it to the ground. As the bike continued to bounce over the rough ground, Sebastian drove his sword down through the head and into the ground.
“Get everyone hidden, Chet,” he shouted. “It’s the only way to keep everyone safe. Sullivans only attack what they can see.”
Chet started to herd the survivors into shelter. While he did this, Sebastian tore around on the bike, distracting the sullivans, attacking and feinting until they were totally focused on him. He rolled the bike into the center of what remained of the camp and stopped by the fire. He revved the engine. The sullivans moved in from all sides and stopped, staring at Sebastian and Memphis on the bike.
Everyone else was out of view. It was just the sullivans and them.
The creatures stepped in closer, one step at a time, claws outstretched, teeth bared. Soon, the bike was completely surrounded.
“What do we do now?” Memphis said.
“I don’t know. This wasn’t part of the plan.”
“You had a plan?”