Without warning

by John Birmingham

  The engineer exhaled a deep breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding in. That probably explained his dizziness. ‘So, what do you want me to do about it?’

  ‘About that? Nothing,’ said Blackstone. ‘That’s our problem for now. But this city is yours. Kipper, you’re now on the Executive Committee. You and your department heads. I need you to do a better job running this place than we’ve seen so far.’

  ‘Whoa! Wait on a second. That’s a political appointment. Only elected officials can sit on the committee.’

  McCutcheon shrugged. ‘Only elected officials on the civilian side, and they’re all unavailable now. So General Blackstone is the senior member, and he’s appointing you and the other department heads.’

  ‘What are we – your Good Germans?’

  ‘No, you’re the only people we can rely on to keep this place from falling apart.’

  ‘You don’t get a choice, Kipper,’ growled Blackstone. ‘The days of easy choices are over. You’ve been drafted. You can either get with the program or you can fuck off and we’ll find someone who will.’

  ‘Jesus Christ, you people…’

  ‘Yeah, wrestle with your conscience in bed, if you have to. But you need to decide whether you’re going to help pull your city through, or walk away.’

  It was too much. Kipper turned and stormed out of the door.

  * * * *

  Was it his imagination or did the Municipal Tower seem to be even more overrun with military uniforms than he’d thought when he first came in? Kipper shook off the thought. No sense getting paranoid. A lot of the support staff were scurrying about on fast forward. A few saw him and looked relieved, others seemed even more frightened and just put their heads down, hurrying past.

  The soldiers didn’t seem to be intimidating anyone. Indeed, some of them looked pretty well spooked, too. But their very presence, in full combat gear, including their weapons, was enough to put the zap on anyone’s head. And what the fuck were they carrying arms for anyway, what did -

  Kipper pulled up in confusion. He’d been so angry, so unbalanced by the meeting with Blackstone and McCutcheon, that he’d stomped right around the corner into the Planning Department. Cursing quietly, he retraced his steps to the city engineer’s office, his office, a small suite of rooms behind a plain dark wooden door inset with marbled glass. It felt like a holy sanctuary right now. He pushed through, praying that he’d find no military people inside, with their feet up on his desk and guns lying on top of the filing cabinets.

  Instead he found Rhonda, his secretary, a large and formidable African-American presence in a room full of frightened white folk.

  ‘Kipper! Thank the Lord at last!’ she cried out when she saw him. ‘We were beginning to worry they’d arrested you as well.’

  ‘Not yet, Ronnie. Not just yet. So you’ve heard then?’

  He smiled wearily at his team, or what was left of it. Barney Tench, his deputy and old college bud, who looked about as glum as Kipper had ever seen him; Marv Basco, the sanitation chief, a dead ringer for Larry from the Three Stooges; Dave Chugg, water, who looked a lot like Curly to Marv’s Larry, at least when you stood them next to each other; and Heather Cosgrove. Sweet, fragile, freaked-out little Heather.

  ‘Whoa. What are you doing here, darlin’?’ Kip asked in surprise. ‘You should be at home.’

  ‘I wanted to come in,’ she said, sounding preternaturally calm. He wondered if she’d been medicated.

  Barney shrugged and shook his head. ‘I dropped her at her apartment, Kip. But she talked some dumb grunt into giving her a lift back in.’

  Kipper sighed. ‘Okay. Heather, I’m not sending you home again. But you shouldn’t be here. You’re in shock. Go and sit yourself down on that couch over there and do not get up again. Ronnie?’

  His PA nodded and bustled the girl as gently as she could over to the old brown couch in the corner. Heather didn’t really protest or resist. When he thought about it, Kip understood. She had no friends or family in Seattle. Her work colleagues had been caught behind the Wave in Spokane. The only people she had left in the world were here, in this office. It would have been cruel to send her out again.

  ‘So. You’ve heard about the council?’ he said, addressing the room.

  They all nodded and mumbled that yes, they knew about the arrests now.

  ‘Did you know you’ve been drafted?’ he asked Basco and Chugg. ‘You’re on the Executive Committee now.’

  ‘No. Nobody’s told us anything,’ replied Chugg.

  Kipper rubbed his neck, which felt stiff and very sore. He noticed he still had a smear of dried blood on the back of his hand. ‘Well, I met the guy behind the coup d’йtat a few minutes ago. General Blackstone.’

  ‘He’s here?’ asked Barney.

  ‘Yeah. Hiding down in the deputy mayor’s office.’

  ‘Did he have any explanation for this morning?’

  ‘Said it was a fuck-up, and we should get over it.’

  ‘Good Lord!’ exclaimed Ronnie, who considered ‘heck’ and ‘gosh, darn it’ to be pushing the boundaries of decent language. ‘He said that?’

  ‘Close enough,’ said Kipper, as he leaned back on his desk. ‘He pretty much threw everything back on us. Said if we didn’t want the city to die, we’d have to step up to the plate.’

  ‘And what about the councillors?’ asked Barney.

  ‘I have no idea. He’s got them detained for protection or some crap, somewhere. I dunno what that means, short or long term.’

  ‘Well, it sounds like this asshole feels perfectly free locking up people he doesn’t get on with,’ said Tench. ‘What’d you tell him, Kip?’

  ‘I didn’t give him an answer either way,’ he replied, chewing his lip. ‘And I’m not happy. I’m a thousand fucking miles from happy. But he’s right about one thing: no matter what we think of him, we have a responsibility to the city. We still need to get a handle on food distribution. As of right now, there is no market solution to the problem of empty shelves, because most of the market disappeared behind the energy wave on March 14. Priority number one is food. We have enough in aid shipments coming through, if it’s distributed rationally. If not, this city will die. It’ll tear itself apart before we can work out how to feed ourselves.’

  He paused to look around. Heather had closed her eyes on the couch, but he had everyone else’s undivided attention.

  ‘I can’t do anything about the politics. I’ll talk to the army about letting the councillors go, but we have to proceed on the assumption that they won’t. So, despite the fact that everything has changed, I don’t see that anything has changed. We have a good plan to pull the city and the state through this. We just need to make it work. Which means we are going to need the military’s help, no matter how difficult that might be to swallow for now.’

  Barney Tench shook his head firmly. ‘I don’t know about that, Kip,’ he said. ‘What these guys look like to me is fascists. My mom’s family, way back when, they came from Croatia. You only got two types in Croatia: fascists and commies. That’s why Grandpa moved here – to get away from that bullshit. And arresting elected officials, no matter how useless, just because it’s convenient, that’s fascism. And I can’t have any part of it.’

  ‘So what are you saying, Barn? You’re going on strike? I need you, buddy. The city needs you.’

  Barney shook his head. ‘You think I don’t know that, Kip? My family live here. Anything I won’t do for you, I can’t do for them either. But this dictatorial bullshit, I can’t do. I’m sorry, man. Some things are just too important. I’ll leave you a formal letter of resignation before I go. But I will go, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.’

  Marv Basco dipped his head. ‘Damn,’ he said. ‘Do you think Barney’s right, Kip? Do you think we should all just walk off until the army agrees to get back in its box?’

  Again, Kipper felt the weight of everybody’s anxiety and expectations settle upon him. ‘I don’t know
, Marv. I got no fuckin’ idea. But I do know that if there had been a truckload of soldiers at South Street this morning like there was supposed to be, a lot of people would have lived, instead of getting shot down. I admire Barney’s strength of conviction, but I can’t afford it. I’ve got half-a-million people to look after, to feed and shelter. Half-a-million terrified people at that, all of them looking over their shoulder at that Wave wondering if it’s gonna decide to gobble them up any time soon. The only reason most of them haven’t bugged out overseas is that nobody’s willing to come in here and get them. If we still had transport out of here, they’d be gone. Hell, I’d be gone. Nobody wants to be here, but here we are anyway, trapped. You ever seen what a trapped, hungry, frightened animal can do to itself, or to anyone who gets too close? It’s not pretty. So, if I can’t get them out of here right away, I can at least do something about keeping them fed and keeping them safe from the things I can guard against, like mass fucking psychosis.’

  He paused then, to calm himself down a bit. He was beginning to lose it, raising his voice and barking his words out. He sighed, and shook his head in apology.

  ‘I’m sorry. But, does anybody else feel like Barney? I need to know right now.’

  Nobody answered.

  * * * *

  The burning rain had closed in again, early in the evening. The army’s weather guys told him it was down to an isolated pocket of toxins caused by a series of fires that had ripped through Portland two days earlier.

  Kipper was glad of the weather in one way. It meant he couldn’t see the glow from the Wave. It was visible at night, high up in the tower, as if the devil had thrown open a furnace door on the far side of the mountains to the south. It was a good thing most people couldn’t see it – that Barb in particular couldn’t see it. He was supposed to go out with some of Blackstone’s people tomorrow to inspect the thing ‘from a safe distance’. Whatever the hell that meant. He didn’t think he’d be telling Barb about that little day trip. Her idea of a safe distance probably meant Guam.

  ‘I’ll be going now, Kip, if that’s okay with you? I’ll take Heather back to my place. She can sleep on our couch for a while. Poor child, she don’t need to be alone.’

  He turned fractionally and smiled at Ronnie. ‘Thanks for staying and helping out, Ron. It was kind of a madhouse here today, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It surely was,’ she agreed. ‘And are you okay now, boss? Should I be pushing you out this door to your beautiful wife and child?’

  ‘I’ll be leaving soon, don’t worry. I got no appetite for hanging around here at the moment. It’s just that I have no choice.’

  Ronnie frowned at him. ‘Don’t talk like that, Kip. There’s always choices.’

  ‘Yeah, but sometimes they all suck.’

  ‘Ha!’ she laughed. ‘You sure you ain’t a black man?’

  Kipper pressed his face against the cool glass of the window pane, beaded with millions of starry droplets of poison. ‘Barney won’t be the last one, you know.’

  ‘How’s that?’ asked Ronnie.

  ‘A town like Seattle, people aren’t going to stand for this takeover. And that’s what it is, Ronnie. A military takeover, pure and simple. And I’m helping them do it. I should be stopping them.’

  ‘Oh, horse hockey! All you’re doing is keeping people warm and safe and fed and watered.’

  ‘Keeping the trains running on time?’

  ‘What trains?’

  ‘Sorry. I was being obtuse. What I mean, Ronnie, is that I don’t know if I can hold this place together. The council, let alone the city. I wonder if we shouldn’t be planning to get the hell out of Dodge. I mean, look at that thing…’

  She kept her eyes on him, rather than looking at the eldritch glow coming from just over the horizon.

  ‘It took everyone, Ronnie. Everyone. Who’s to say it’s not going to jump out here and take the rest of us in two minutes?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she replied quietly. ‘Nothing but my faith in the Lord. I know you’re not a praying man, Kip. But I say some extra prayers on your behalf every Sunday to make up. And what the good Lord tells me is that nothing he does is without meaning. It all serves a purpose in the end. His purpose. And I do not believe his purpose would be served by laying another tribulation upon us. What is, is. This is for us to endure. For you to bear, Kipper. Whether you’re a believer or not.’

  ‘I wish I was, Ronnie,’ he said. ‘I wish I was.’

  ‘So does Jesus, Kipper.’

  From anyone else, he’d have taken offence. But Ronnie and he went way back and he knew she meant only the best.

  ‘You coming in tomorrow?’ he asked.

  ‘As if you need to ask.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m on the edge of a decision here. I think I’m going to front Blackstone. Demand he release the councillors and ease off the restrictions on people.’

  ‘Set my people free?’ Ronnie smiled.

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘And what if he throws you in the clink, too?’

  ‘Well, we all have our choices to make, don’t we?’

  ‘We do. And I’m sure you’ll make the right ones.’

  Kipper didn’t reply at first, instead looking out the window at the largely empty city centre. ‘You look after Heather,’ he said at last. ‘She’s a good girl, but she’s lost.’

  ‘She wouldn’t be the first stray we took under our care. Or the last, I’ll wager. And you look after yourself, Kip. Don’t sit here all night. Get yourself home. Your family need you too.’

  ‘I will, Ronnie. Good night.’

  He turned back to the window as she left, staring out into the rain. The city was dark, with only a few lights burning here and there in offices where he could see other people moving around working. As he watched, a few of the lights flickered out too. He tried to pick out the smouldering red light of the Wave but failed. The weather was really closing in.

  Ronnie was right. Time to go home.

  The walk back to his car was uncomfortable, the rain constant and stinging. They said a big chemical plant had gone up in the Portland blaze, and he thought he could feel it in the pores of his skin where the water soaked through.

  It was an uneventful drive home to Mercer Island, thankfully. No riots. No ambushes. Only the usual military checkpoints, through which he sailed without delay, thanks to a new upgraded pass from Blackstone. He tortured himself the whole way, wondering if he should have followed Barney out the door. If they all should have.

  He could see candles burning in the kitchen at home as he pulled up, and a curtain twitched aside. He turned off the motor and hurried up the driveway as the door opened.

  ‘Come in, Kip. Hurry up. That rain’s gone bad again, they say.’

  ‘Hang on, Barb,’ he said, shaking off as much moisture as he could on the porch, and removing his muddy boots.

  ‘Come on. I’ve kept some dinner warm by the fire. And I poured you a whisky.’

  ‘Thanks, darlin’. That’s just what I need.’

  ‘Barney called,’ she said.

  ‘Oh. He told you?’

  ‘Everything… I’m so sorry, Kip. All those people killed. You must feel awful.’

  He dried off with an old towel she handed him, and closed the door. It felt good to shut out the weather.

  ‘Yeah. It wasn’t a great day,’ he replied wearily. ‘And this thing with Barney and the council, I’m just -’

  Barb shushed him and took him by the arm through to the lounge room, where a small fire crackled and glowed in the hearth. A plate, covered in foil, sat near the flames, and a tumbler of whisky waited for him on the coffee table.

  ‘I’m sorry about this morning,’ said Barb. ‘I was a bitch. I shouldn’t have put all that pressure on you. I’m sorry’

  ‘Damn.’ He squeezed his eyes shut.

  ‘What?’

  He looked at his wife helplessly. ‘I forgot the fucking Piglet DVD.’

  She stared at him for a ful
l second before they both burst out laughing.

  * * * *

  28

  HONOLULU, HAWAII

  Admiral Ritchie was wrong. Jedediah Armstrong Culver, of the Louisiana Bar, did not take three or four business suits along with him on vacation. He only ever took one, just in case. As soon as he’d learned of the Disappearance, however, he’d gone straight downtown and bought four new outfits, off-the-rack, but quickly tailored to fit his ample frame. As always, they were either blue pin-striped and single-breasted, or charcoal grey, ditto. Two Brooks Brothers, one Zegna and a rather subdued Armani. He put the charge on one of his European cards, a Visa issued by Barclays Bank in London, where he had worked for three years as an equity partner with Baker amp; McKenzie before moving home to set up his own firm. The Barclays Visa he normally saved for annual trips to Europe with Marilyn, but none of his US-issued plastic was working. Diners, Amex and Mastercard, none of them were any good. The local merchants had stopped taking them in payment or their billing systems simply locked up when presented with the account details.