Child of Slaughter

by James Axler

  “This shouldn’t take long.” Fixie finished tweaking the panel he was working on and moved to another. “I’ve already done most of the work to make the changeover possible. The transmitter takes an enormous amount of energy, but the batteries are more than up to the task. We just have to adjust a few things, disconnect the reactor feed and switch to the battery feed. Then it’s smooth sailing after that.”

  “Smooth sailing.” Doc pulled his hand away from the glass. “The fulfillment of the true Dr. Hammersmith’s dream. But why?”

  “Why?” Fixie looked at him and frowned.

  “He fired you, didn’t he? Because you tried to help perfect his system. So why do you have any interest in his dream?”

  “Why not?” Fixie shrugged and went back to work. “It’s a good dream. Making the Shift a better place is a very good dream, if you ask me.”

  Doc thought for a moment. He had questioned Fixie’s sincerity, but maybe there was no reason to doubt him. “It does seem like a most worthwhile goal,” he said. “I only hope we both live to see it come to fruition.”

  “Have faith, like I do,” Fixie said. “We’ll figure out an escape route, or one will present itself. We’re doing good work, and we’ll be rewarded for it.”

  “Faith? I had a great deal of it once. Not so much any more.” Doc gazed at the rising bubbles behind the armaglass wall and remembered going to church in the days before his travels through time. It had filled a void inside him, one that had been empty since his arrival in the Deathlands. “I do not object to it on principle, though. I must admit, I would like to think it has a bearing on our destinies.”

  “Then, I’m feeling better already about our chances.” Fixie grinned and extended a hand. “Now, how about giving me the needle-nose pliers so we can wrap this up?”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “So tell us,” Ryan ordered. “Tell us everything.”

  Union, who sat on the ground with her hands and feet bound securely, just glared up at him. She glared at all of them in turn—the team members she’d betrayed, who stood in judgment in a semicircle in front of her now that the battle with the shifter army was over. The muties had fled toward the core, leaving behind their dead and the scattered pieces of their shattered artillery…also leaving behind Ryan’s team, which had nearly been shattered by Union.

  “Why do it?” Jak’s voice bore an extra layer of tension. Of all of them, he took her betrayal the most personally. “Why lead into mutie trap?”

  Union turned toward him, then winced as the movement set off pain in the bullet wound in her shoulder, which Mildred had bandaged. “Why lead into mutie trap?” She repeated his words mockingly, in a heavy Russian accent, then shook her head and laughed. “Albino moron.”

  Jak scowled. He was furious at what she’d done, yet also deeply hurt, though he kept up as stoic a front as he could for her benefit. “You traitor from start?”

  “What kind of question is that?” Union laughed again. “I fed you to the wolves. Of course I was ‘traitor from start.’”

  “What about other women in head?” Jak asked.

  Union sneered up at him. The braid that hung from her left temple was striped with all the colors that signaled the presence of her alter egos. “I swear, your English is worse than mine. Would it kill you to use a fucking article or conjunction once in a while?”

  “What about other women?” Jak grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Where Carrie, Dulcet, Rhonda, Taryn?”

  Union laughed, ignoring the pain of her wound. “There’s just me in here now, boy.”

  Jak shook her again, harder, as she continued to laugh, and that was when Ryan stepped in. He grabbed Jak’s wrist and shook his head once. Jak got the message and let her go, taking a step back. As angry as he was, he trusted Ryan, as always, to do what was best for all of them.

  “What makes you so great?” Ryan asked. “Because this is the first I’ve heard anything about you, lady.”

  “It will soon be the last. This battle was just a warm-up.”

  Ryan gazed into her eyes a moment, then turned to Dr. Hammersmith. “What do you know about this Russian bitch anyway?”

  “Nothing.” Hammersmith shook his head and raised his hands, palms up. “I never met her before in my life, I swear.”

  “Maybe she’s some kind of dormant subpersonality,” Mildred suggested. “A kind of override routine implanted during brainwashing.”

  “Or maybe you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, capitalist bitch,” Union snapped.

  Mildred ignored her. “It’s also possible the other personalities were strictly camouflage.”

  “No,” Hammersmith said insistently. “I know those women. They exist.”

  “Make it past tense, dumbass,” Union said. “They’re long gone, you idiot pothead.”

  “Perhaps they only merged,” Mildred stated. “Some kind of trigger event might have set the process in motion.”

  “Does it matter why she did it?” Ricky asked.

  “It does if there are parts of her worth saving,” Krysty told him.

  “There aren’t.” Union spit in her direction, not quite hitting her, and laughed. “There is only one Wicked Witch of the East in here, hungry to eat your eyeballs.”

  “Called what?” J.B. adjusted his fedora. “What’s the wicked witch’s name?”

  “It isn’t Union. That’s all I’ll say.”

  “But don’t you want us to know who finally took us down?” J.B. asked. “Don’t you want us to die with your name on our lips, cursing you for what you’ve done?”

  Union thought for a long moment, then said the name slowly, like a purring cat. “Sasha. My name is Sasha.”

  “So what’s coming next, Sasha?” Ryan asked. “You said the fight with the shifters was just a warm-up, so what’s next?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.” Sasha laughed loudly, as if she’d just been told a hilarious joke.

  “Where will it happen?” Ryan probed. “When will it happen?”

  “You won’t find out until it’s too late,” Sasha said. “But what I will tell you is what comes after. The new beginning that will leave you people in the dust.”

  “What new beginning?” Krysty asked.

  “A collective intelligence. All minds in the Shift joined together by the power of his machine.” She sneered at Hammersmith.

  Mildred turned her gaze on the man, as well. “Is that even possible?”

  “Of course not!” Hammersmith snapped.

  “Oh, but it is.” Sasha grinned and raised her eyebrows. “And I have made certain of this.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hammersmith frowned, looking confused.

  “Such was my mission all along, when I served as your assistant,” Sasha said. “Using your device to bind together many minds, using my own to seed the process.”

  “I don’t understand,” Hammersmith told her.

  “My mind does not contain multiple personalities. Rather, it represents the integration of actual separate minds from multiple human beings. I have a collective intelligence, and I intend to use it to spark a much larger network of minds—one that encompasses the Shift. And eventually, beyond it.”

  “Assuming you could even do such a thing, why would you?” Mildred asked.

  Sasha looked at her with an expression of grim amusement. “I was cryogenically preserved, awaiting reactivation, then freed, dear Mildred. My home country, like yours, long ago lost the greatest war of all time and ceased to be. But thanks to me, my country will achieve the ultimate victory!

  “I will create a true collective in the heart of what was once America—a collective intelligence that will give birth to a new Soviet Union. And none of you will be able to stop it!”

  * * *

  “WHAT A STORY,” J.B. said later, as he and Ryan salvaged gear from the ruined war wag. “An awakened Russian freezie out to build a collective intelligence that brings the USSR back to life in the heart of
the old US of A.” He gave Ryan a sidelong look. “You believe her?”

  Ryan shrugged. “I just wish we knew more about whatever surprises are waiting for us at the core.”

  “You and me both.” They hadn’t been able to get anything else out of Sasha after her revelation about the plan to create a beachhead for a viral Soviet collective intelligence. Though she’d told them about her true nature and goals, she’d kept her cards close to the vest when it came to information they could actually use. “So it’s business as usual, I guess? Headfirst into the shit with next to nothing in the way of knowing what awaits us?”

  “And come out on top anyway? Pretty much, J.B.”

  J.B. fished a box of shotgun shells from the rubble and tossed it into his backpack. “I don’t suppose ol’ Hammersmith has any more rockets for that launcher of his squirreled away in here, does he?”

  Ryan shook his head. “I was surprised he came up with the last ones.”

  “I’m just glad he’s turned out to be an asset. Not that I ever had any doubts.”

  “Me, neither, what with all the dope smoking and crazy talk.” Ryan found a bag full of grens and lifted it clear of the wreckage. “I just hope he can get us over the finish line, especially if there’s some kind of game-changer waiting for us.”

  J.B. slapped him on the back. “What fun would life be without a curveball now and then? Or every five minutes, as the case may be in the Deathlands.”

  * * *

  “GIVE IT UP, JAK,” Ricky said. “She’s a lost cause.”

  Jak should have been prepping for the next stage of the mission—the march to the core—and he knew it, but he couldn’t break away from watching Union.

  The traitor still sat on the ground with her wrists and ankles bound, staring into space. She hadn’t said a word in more than a half hour, and she didn’t look inclined to speak anytime soon.

  Jak had nothing to gain from watching her. He wasn’t even on guard duty; that was Ricky’s job. But he couldn’t stay away.

  How could he have been so wrong about the connection between them? It didn’t seem possible. Jak’s instincts were usually solid when it came to the opposite sex, and his instincts had picked up on an attraction.

  Nevertheless, he’d heard her confession with his own ears. She was a Soviet freezie who hated them all and craved the fulfillment of a plan. She’d left no room for misinterpretation.

  “Come on.” Ricky nodded toward the war wag, where Ryan and J.B. were still working. “Go help those guys. Shake it off.”

  “Already shook,” Jak replied. “Just hoping silence breaks.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “All right, good.” Ricky still looked concerned but managed half a smile. “So can you hold down the fort for a minute while I go take a leak?”

  “Consider held.” Jack winked one ruby eye.

  “I’ll be right back,” Ricky said, then wandered off behind a nearby hill.

  Almost as soon as he left, Union turned her gaze on Jak and started talking. “I’m still in here,” she said softly.

  Jak frowned. “Who talking?” he asked, though he noticed that her braid was Carrie white.

  “You know who! Now, listen, before she comes back.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice, though the woman she was trying to keep in the dark was inside her head. “Don’t trust her, Jak! She lies.”

  “About what?”

  “Us!” Carrie-Union snapped. “Who we are. Why she’s doing all this. Don’t believe her!”

  “Should believe you instead?” Jak snorted. “Believe any of you?”

  “Yes!” Carrie-Union hissed. “You can trust me! I want to help you!”

  “Want help?” Jak asked. “Tell what Russian knows. What danger coming?”

  “I don’t know.” Carrie choked out a sob. “She doesn’t show the rest of us everything! She keeps us locked away whenever she’s driving, and we’re blind and deaf and trapped.”

  “How you get out?” Jak asked.

  “I fought my way out, because I love you. And no matter what you say or do, I will never give up on you!”

  Jak stared at her, feeling the urge, against all common sense, to believe her. Maybe his instincts hadn’t been so wrong after all; maybe the woman who had feelings for him was still in there, fighting to get free.

  Or not. Suddenly, a wicked sneer spread across her face. She tipped her head to one side and oozed out a single word in a heavy Russian accent.

  “Sucker.”

  Then she broke down in hysterical laughter, just as Ricky returned from his bathroom break.

  “Not so quiet anymore, huh?” Ricky asked. “So what got her making noise again?”

  “Told her joke.”

  Ricky looked at Union, who was still laughing uproariously. “Must’ve been hilarious.”

  “She didn’t get.” Jak shrugged. “Didn’t know joke on her.”

  Again, Ricky watched Union as she continued to crack up. “Are you sure about that?”

  Jak met Union’s gaze for an instant. Did he see a flicker of Carrie or any of the others in her eyes? Did it even matter anymore?

  “What can say? Some people, everything just big joke.” With that, Jak shook his head and walked off in the direction of the wag to get ready for what was to come.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Doc and Fixie had been back in the mat-trans chamber for less than five minutes when the door flew open and Exo stormed into the room.

  “Hello, children!” Instead of a candy stick, Exo had what looked like a strip of leathery black jerky in a corner of his mouth. “You’ve been naughty, haven’t you?”

  Doc froze, wondering if Exo knew what he and Fixie had been up to for the past few hours. Had he come to punish them for their unauthorized foray to the transmitter and their efforts to restore Hammersmith’s dream?

  “Well?” Exo pulled the jerky strip from his mouth and flapped it at each of the men in turn. “Who’s been the naughty one? Dr. Hammersmith, or his lovely assistant?”

  “Neither.” Fixie smiled and spread his arms. “We’ve both been working hard and keeping our noses clean.”

  “That’s too bad.” Exo looked deeply disappointed. “I was going to give the naughtiest one a treat!” He held up the jerky. “A hunk of the last naughty one to get my attention.” He waved the jerky in the air, then brought it down and bit off the end of it with savage gusto.

  Doc went on smiling but recoiled inside. Cannibalism. It never got old in the Deathlands.

  Exo strolled the perimeter of the chamber, looking around at the parts and pieces in various states of repair. “So can we have this ready by tomorrow?”

  “Of course!” Fixie saluted with a flourish. “We were just saying that was when we’d be ready, weren’t we, Dr. H.?”

  Doc met Fixie’s gaze, which told him all he needed to know. Play along. “Yes, yes. No later than tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait!” Exo twirled Doc’s swordstick like a majorette’s baton. “Tomorrow, the Shift will be mine! And after that, the sky’s the limit!”

  “Actually,” Fixie said, “we’ll need a little more time for the sky.”

  Exo whipped around and glared Fixie, shaking the point of the swordstick at him. For a moment, Doc thought he was going to go ballistic and punish Fixie for his egregious comment.

  But instead, Exo’s glare turned into a grin. “A little more?” He laughed. “So be it! But I expect the stars to be part of the package.”

  “Done and done.” Fixie dusted off his hands and took a bow.

  Exo hurried over and gave him a long hug. Then he turned to Doc, reaching out as if he was going to hug him, too.

  Instead, as usual, he took a swing at him. The blow was an uppercut pumped deep into Doc’s belly, blasting the breath right out of him.

  Exo bit off another hank of jerky, then threw the remaining piece on the floor between Doc and Fixie. “Here, fight over that for your dinner.” Laughing, he
strutted out the door, twirling Doc’s swordstick at his side. “No time for a sit-down meal today! You can feast all you want tomorrow, after my empire has come to pass.”

  As Doc watched him go, his hand patted the razor blade in his pocket. He wanted to fish it out and put it to use so badly, just to finish off that mutie monster.

  But he knew the time wasn’t right.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Fixie said after Exo had gone. “He’ll be out of the picture before you know it.”

  Doc frowned as the pain from the punch in his gut began to subside. “What do you know about his brain damage?” he asked.

  “From the fever, you mean?”

  “I suppose.” Doc shrugged. “Ankh told me that Exo had experienced some form of brain damage and hasn’t been the same since.”

  “You might say that.” Fixie nodded. “Everything in the Shift is subject to transformation, including diseases. Exo and Ankh caught one of the worst of them and nearly died. Only Ankh came out of it with his mind intact. Exo’s mind was twisted, many of his memories lost or altered. That’s why he thinks you’re Hammersmith, and he doesn’t remember the truth about Ankh.”

  “Truth? What truth?”

  “Ankh is family,” Fixie replied. “Ankh is Exo’s younger brother.” With that, he trotted across the chamber and opened a panel in the floor. “Hey, I could use a hand over here.”

  Doc heard him but didn’t move. He was too busy processing what Fixie had just told him. “But…but Ankh is plotting to overthrow him.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Fixie grabbed a voltage meter and sat on the edge of the open floor panel. “He is one cruel, crazy son of a bitch. The sucker punch he gave you is nothing compared to the atrocities he’s committed since his mind went.”

  “Then, why hasn’t anyone overthrown him until now?”

  “Better the devil you know, right?” Fixie nodded knowingly and eased himself down into the opening in the floor.

  “Until now.”

  “Exactly.” Fixie raised his voice to be heard from under the flooring. “Things are finally about to change around here. Only they won’t change the way Ankh thinks they will. When it’s all over, he’ll be finished, too.”