There were a hell of a lot of fucked-up things about what had happened in the chamber of death back there, but one thing that kept bothering me as I crawled forward was the level of technology. The ability to distort both gravity and light was the most remarkable aspect, but the effortlessness of the technology that the chamber had used to kill then reset was like nothing I’d ever seen before.
After a while, I lost track of time, and it seemed as if I had been going forever yet was still in the same place. I wished I could look behind me to get an idea of how far I had come, but there wasn’t enough room; my shoulders touched both sides of the shaft at once. When my forehead hit metal, I was at least glad to know that I had been making actual forward progress even if I had still had no idea if it was leading anywhere. Openings on both my left and right indicated that I could choose either direction. I strained my ears until I heard something faint. I wasn’t certain of the direction—or if the noise even existed—but it seemed to be coming from my right.
I turned right and crawled onward. My nose was stuffed up, and I had the sense that every piece of clothing and every exposed part of skin was coated with thick dust. After I while, I realized I could hear voices. I pressed onward with renewed energy. I began to hear clear words. Then I recognized a person’s voice. Sam Burnett. My stomach bubbled with excitement. I was getting close to finding out what I had been looking for.
There were several other voices I didn’t recognize, but I began to realize that most of them had accents. I heard a Chinese accent and a Latino accent. Why is Burnett talking to our enemies? Is he betraying us? Another voice, a woman this time, had a German accent. I stopped moving and concentrated on listening.
“We are reaching the end game,” Burnett said.
“We have been ready for this a long time,” the Chinese woman said. “How do we finish this?”
“But we are so close,” the guy from the Latino Territories said. “Just give us a few more weeks, and we’ll control the whole of Americas.”
“I don’t think so,” Burnett said. “You’ve had your fun.”
“We might as well enjoy our time in the ascendency,” the Latino said. “It doesn’t happen too often for us.”
“Everyone gets the turn at the top,” said a woman whose accent I couldn’t quite place.
Russian? I crawled a few steps closer.
“Let’s not squabble,” the German woman said. “We all know what has to be done. It’s been decided well before today. This meeting is just to confirm the timing. It’s too late to change any of the particulars. I believe each country has set up things as we discussed last time. Everything should fall into place without issue.”
“Great. It’s good to see another world war coming to an end,” Burnett said. “And no fuck-ups. Not another Australia.”
“What about your end, Burnett?” the German woman said. “You still have a problem with those terrorists? What are they called? Some girl’s name?”
“Celeste,” Burnett said. “And we are taking care of it. Obviously, I wasn’t happy to find out that we made such a mistake with our president. But we integrated it into our endgame nicely.”
“I heard this terrorist organization is still in play for the endgame.”
“I don’t care what you heard.” An edge of annoyance tinged Burnett’s voice. “But here on the ground, we know the situation better, and we are dealing with it. When did we start spying on each other anyway?”
“Always, I presume. It’s just that we don’t talk about it.” The German woman’s tone sounded smug. It was easy to understand why she was getting under Burnett’s skin. “But the truth is that we’re all in this together. We need each other. Perhaps if our Australian colleague didn’t try to do everything himself, we wouldn’t have had that fiasco.”
“I included you all, didn’t I?” Burnett asked testily. “When I found out about President Roberts, I told you, and together, we dealt with it. I don’t need to bother the Council with every small thing.”
Zirconia had mentioned the Grand Council. That has to be what this was.
“What about the brother?” the German woman asked. “A Jordi Roberts. I understand he has caused problems and is still on the run.”
“A minor issue that is being dealt with. I know exactly where Jordi Roberts is at this very moment. Your spies aren’t keeping you as well informed as you think.”
“Let’s just deal with closing out this world war for now,” the Russian woman said. “These American terrorists surely won’t do much of importance in the next few days. If there are additional problems, we can discuss them at a later meeting.”
“Yes,” Burnett said. “There’s been plenty of reports about Chinese honor on our news waves. We are ready.”
“And we have discussed the American fighting spirit and talked about the treachery of the Latinos until everyone is sick of hearing it,” the Chinese woman said. “Our population is prepared; there’ll be no major surprise internally when we come to the aid of the Conference. Our devastator commanders will receive coded instructions as soon as I give the word. At that point, they will descend on the Latino, Russian, and Indian devastators.”
“Which will, unfortunately, take us completely by surprise,” the Latino man said.
“Great,” Burnett said. “Let’s have those instructions sent today. I think every nation is sick of war right now, so there shouldn’t be any surprise when peace negotiations break out.”
“Our people won’t be happy if we give up all our hard-won gains in these negotiations,” the Latino man said. “Maybe we should get to keep Under Norleans.”
“In your dreams,” Burnett replied. “We can hand over control of Hawaii and some other islands. Count yourself lucky to be getting that much. You would never have made those gains, except we changed strategy upon learning about President Roberts’s allegiances.”
“I guess this meeting is over then,” the German woman said. “Until next time.”
A series of farewells followed, and I tried to process what I had just heard. If I understood it correctly, those taking part in that meeting—the Grand Council—were deciding the course of war for all sides. My mind tried to reject the idea as impossible, and even as it did so, I realized I had thought similarly many times in the last week and usually been wrong. The ordinary was a lie, and the impossible was the truth.
Burnett spoke again. “I wasn’t lying when I said I know where you are, Jordi.” His words sent a chill down my spine. “A short time ago, I was informed about an intruder in the ventilation system, and it was easy to guess who it was. Hold on while I call up a map here on my display. Okay, if you crawl forward another ten meters, you’ll reach a junction. Take a left there, and we’ll open the vent cover for you.”
I didn’t move. After what I had just heard, Burnett couldn’t allow me to live. I would just be crawling to my own funeral.
“Those vent walls are thinner than you’d think,” Burnett said. “And I can see exactly where you are on this heat signature map. We could just shoot you through the metal and have you dragged out.”
I shuffled forward. The darkness gradually lightened, and I was able to see the junction Burnett had mentioned before I hit my head into it. I took a rueful look into the blackness to my right before turning left as Burnett had ordered.
Slices of light revealed the location of the vent cover. It was removed just before I reached it, and I squinted and raised my arm. Even that small square of light hurt after so long in the darkness. Once my eyes recovered, I crawled onward and stuck my head out the vent opening. Hands reached in and pulled me out by my shoulders. The men on either side held me until my feet came out to support me.
I wiped at the dust on my face, but I had so much on my hands that I only made it worse. Burnett stood before me with a satisfied smirk on his face. Flanking him were several other men and women. They looked more like professors or scientists than soldiers, but several had guns in their hands.
I was i
n a large room perhaps half the size of Times Square. Desks with screens in front of them were scattered throughout, all facing the front wall. On that wall were six giant screens, now blank. Those foreign voices from earlier had been speaking from those screens, I had no doubt. One for each of the other superpowers. Plus one extra.
“Would you not take down the screen for the Australians after all this time?” I asked. If Burnett wanted me to beg for my life, he would be disappointed.
Burnett smiled. “You have proved very resourceful. I would even say intelligent.” He gestured to the two men at my side who’d helped me out of the vent. “Take him to a cell.” He nodded at one of the women holding a gun. “Go with them to make sure he doesn’t try anything.” He turned back to me. “I have things to put into motion. We’ll talk later.”
I let myself be taken away. I was extremely surprised that he hadn’t killed me on the spot, but it seemed churlish to complain.
Author’s Note
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This is part 3 of a 5-part serial. Parts 4 and 5 are due out in September and October. Each part is around sixty pages long. Check out all my releases: www.amazon.com/author/davidjnormoyle
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COPYRIGHT
WORLD WAR 97—PART 3
Copyright © 2015 by David J. Normoyle
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art © 2015 by S. Frost Designs
Edited by Red Adept Editing Services
First eBook edition: August 2015
Published by David J. Normoyle
www.davidjnormoyle.com
World War 97 Part 3 Page 5