Perception Fault

by James Axler

  “By now I expect you have a lot of questions about this facility and its overall purpose. Yet, at the same time, I get the distinct impression that this place isn’t all that unfamiliar to you. Neither you nor any of your group has reacted even remotely similarly to other people who have stumbled upon us. To what do you attribute this indifferent response?”

  Ryan leaned back in the chair and stretched out his legs, crossing them as he replied. “I’ve been almost everywhere on this rad-blasted continent ever since I could walk. I’ve seen everything from mutie animals and people of every size and stripe to even weirder things, from the mountains to the deserts and everywhere in between. Not much surprises me anymore. The point is, I’m not a slack-jawed dirt farmer who shits his pants when he first sees something he doesn’t understand, so if this little get-together has a point, I’d prefer you get to it right quick, otherwise, we’re just wasting each other’s time.”

  As Ryan spoke, the expressions on some of the men’s faces shifted from neutral to surprised or angry. Carr’s, Agathem’s and Waltrop’s, however, didn’t change; the administrator even cracked a brief smile. “Very well, I can appreciate that.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I won’t go into the history of this site in any great detail. Suffice it to say that before what you people living on the outside call ‘skydark,’ this facility, along with several others created at various points around the continent, were created as fallback points in the event of a nuclear or other worldwide disaster. Our instructions were explicit and precise—stay concealed until the original staff, or its descendents, felt the time was right to reemerge and begin rebuilding civilization.”

  Ryan’s expression and posture didn’t change. He’d heard this speech many times before, most often out of the mouths of crazed psychotics whose idea of rebuilding meant bringing everyone they could conquer under their iron-shod heel. Other times it was from even-crazier muties with delusions of grandeur who felt that the age of humankind had passed, and a new era was emerging, with them—no matter what kind of freak they were—now being the rightful inheritors of the blasted planet. Whenever anyone began talking like this within his earshot, he figured sooner or later there was only one thing to do—put a bullet between their eyes, sparing both them and the land whatever insane plan they had concocted to ensure their domination. He resisted an urge to blow air through his teeth as he waited for the small man to finish.

  “I must say that, according to the records of the first generation, it was very doubtful that this point would ever be reached. Exposing ourselves too soon could lead to outside forces attempting to overwhelm us for the technology and skills we possess. In that regard, the Indian tribe that took up residence in the nearby area served as excellent cover for many years, since they would keep anyone who might be interested in the ruins of the airport above us away. We also needed to make sure that we knew how to survive in this new world ourselves. It wouldn’t do to open our doors and be laid low by a new pathogen or mutated virus.”

  “No, I suppose not, although it seems to me that you all took your sweet time if it took more than a hundred years for you to start looking past the ends of your noses.”

  Ryan’s verbal barb didn’t ruffle Carr one bit. “I won’t overstate the hazards of premature exposure. Suffice it to say that previous generations took the precautions they thought necessary, and so did we. Those few outsiders who did stumble upon our perimeter were either taken in for interrogation, then mind-wiped—just so any memory of us was gone, not making them a drooling vegetable, you understand—and released, or, if they had promise, were invited to stay. The latter, sadly, have been few and far between.”

  Even as he prepared to dismiss Carr’s words as the usual overblown rhetoric, Ryan found himself actually listening to the man, since his talk wasn’t filled with the typical inflated boasts and threats so many others had made. Instead, this man’s speech seemed to be governed by something that often seemed to be in short supply in the Deathlands—logic.

  “However, there have been glimmerings of progress on the horizon, most notably in the city that has been created out of the ruins of suburban Denver to the west of here. We have been keeping the area under surveillance for the past four years, and have seen much to be hopeful about. On the other hand, recently the city has come under siege by an outside force, and our intelligence operatives have told us that the man leading the attacking force used to be a member of the city itself.”

  Ryan kept his eyebrow down with an effort; so Tellen had been telling the truth about that. “Okay, I’m still not seeing where me and my people fit into all of this.” He was fibbing. He had a very good idea of what Carr was about to say, but Ryan had found that playing dumb often got better information than busting fingers with a hammer.

  “I doubt that very much, however, it is of no consequence. You and your people are, quite simply, the perfect go-betweens for us to make our presence known. You have managed to ingratiate yourself with leaders on both sides of the conflict in short order, despite—or perhaps because of—your outsider status. I don’t know what sort of bargain you’ve made with either group, nor do I care. However, since they apparently trust you, that makes you the perfect person to introduce us to the principals on both sides of the conflict.”

  “And what’s the plan once that happens?” Ryan asked.

  “We invite both sides to sit down and take stock of the situation. A third player in the area, particularly one with the resources that we have to offer, changes the dynamics considerably. It is our hope that we can bring both sides to the negotiating table to work out a compromise that will benefit everyone. Denver’s location—relatively isolated, yet the gateway to both sides of what remains of the nation—makes it a perfect place to begin rebuilding a society that stands a chance of establishing law and order as it once existed.”

  Ryan frowned. “With your group reigning over everyone else? I’ve seen far too many places where that sort of power corrupted anyone who tried to wield it for too long.”

  Administrator Mayweather spoke for the first time. “Sadly, history is filled with those who attempted to force change upon a world that wasn’t ready for it, or, having done so, were loath to give up the power that allowed them to enact that change. One of the first things an effective system of government needs is a system of checks and balances, like an advisory panel that ensures the single leader doesn’t gain too much power. This would be addressed if—and when—a cease-fire agreement is brokered.”

  Ryan’s mouth quirked in what might have passed for a brief smile. “Yeah, you realize that there’s a strong chance that one or both sides would use this meeting to try and blow you all straight to hell, just on general principle.”

  Carr’s genial expression vanished, replaced by a cool look of complete, almost ruthless efficiency. “I think they’ll be willing to talk when they see what we bring to the table. So, will you set up a meeting between the various sides?”

  Ryan’s gaze swept the six men as he drew out the silence before replying. “On the other hand, why do I have any reason to trust you, either? I’ve already heard rumors that you folks are short on women, and plan on obtaining them by any means necessary. What would stop you all from chilling the leaders once they arrived, then rolling in and taking over the entire city yourself?” He’d been watching all of them as he spoke, particularly Carr, and wasn’t surprised to see the head whitecoat evince absolutely no trace of a reaction to the accusation.

  In fact, the man smiled again, while Dr. Agathem spoke up. “Tales of our gender imbalance, while somewhat accurate, are also a misnomer. Certain elements of our personnel aren’t altogether happy either with the situation as it has evolved or the steps we have taken to correct the problem, and are advocating a more immediate remedy. However, if that situation were in effect, why would we have kept you here, treated your injuries, fed you, housed you, clothed you, when there was no guarantee that you would be of any use to us? If that were the ca
se, we would have simply terminated you and left you in the hole where we first found you.”

  Carr leaned forward, steepling his hands on the table. “While we believe in the sanctity of human life, we’ll take whatever measures necessary to defend our way of living. Past experience has taught us that, if nothing else. You aren’t a threat to us, but you have something that we can use here. Therefore, we treated you in the hopes that you would be able to help us in turn. Now, will you do this for us?”

  Ryan rose from his chair and slowly paced the room, aware of the six pairs of eyes on him. “Do I have a choice?”

  “There are always choices, Mr. Cawdor. An intelligent man evaluates the ones open to him at any time and selects the best option available. In this situation, it is you who has the power here, not us. We need you to broker this introduction, rather than us risking a, shall we say, overzealous reaction from the other parties.”

  Ryan turned to stare him directly in the eyes. “Sounds like a polite way of saying no to me. I don’t appreciate being forced into making my decision. We ‘outsiders’ call that a baron’s choice—one that looks like you have a decision to make on your own, but he’s really making it for you.”

  “It is possible that other members of your group may feel differently when presented with this opportunity. Besides, are we really asking that much of you? In return, as the person who made this all possible, you would have a high position in the new government, or we could outfit you with just about anything you may need, and see you on your way to wherever you wish.”

  Ryan certainly had his doubts about that. After all, Carr had just said they’d mind-wiped the others before releasing them. But for now…

  “All right, I’ll do what I can. But our part in this is only to get you all to the table. Anything that happens afterward is up to you.”

  “Fair enough. No time like the present to get started.”

  “That’s what I always say,” Ryan replied, mimicking the food administrator’s tone perfectly. He suspected the man knew he was being mocked, and he saw the man glare at him as he got up to leave the room. However, at the moment, he didn’t much care.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Of course, Ryan didn’t let his help go unrewarded. Within short order he’d gotten all of his friends into their own suite of rooms, with separate but adjoining bedrooms, and their own bathroom and shower.

  Once everyone had cleaned up, Ryan called them together in Krysty and his room, shaking his head as they assembled. “Fireblast, this looks familiar. Didn’t we just do this exact same thing a few days ago?”

  “Fer pretty much same fuckin’ reason,” Jak said from the corner. He’d been happy to see the rest of the group, but had stayed quiet ever since they’d all been reunited. Even his hair, normally a wild mane sticking up in all directions, now fell lank and subdued around his face. “Seems like all been doin’ since leavin’ redoubt is comin’ and goin’. When we get fuck out here?”

  “Soon enough, Jak, that’s a promise.” Ryan quickly filled in everyone on the agreement he had reached with the Bunker overseers, eliciting a variety of surprised looks, with Doc even bolting to his feet in shock.

  “Ryan, I thought you knew better. You cannot trust these whitecoats for a single moment! Even you said someone broke into your room and threatened Krysty and Mildred—”

  Ryan raised his hands and motioned for Doc to sit back down. “Whoa, whoa, Doc, just hold on. First, no one came out and ‘threatened’ Krysty and Mildred. They just warned us that people in the lab here might be after any women they found. But if that were true, then, as J.B. said earlier, they certainly wouldn’t have kept him or me around—or you two, either.” His gaze included Jak and Doc. “We’d all be buzzard food on the plains this very minute.”

  “So they plan to keep us for the Lord knows what kind of experimentation. We cannot wait for them to come and find us, cowering and helpless—”

  “Doc! You aren’t helping anything right now. Sit back down and listen, okay?” Pulling out a chair from the desk, Ryan sat. “They do have a task for us, and that’s to bring the two sides together for a meeting with them so everyone can work out some kind of treaty.”

  Doc threw up his hands in helpless anger and got up to pace the room, muttering, “I would rather die than have to work alongside those steel-hearted whitecoats. They cause nothing but pain and suffering under their so-called ‘science to aid humanity.’ A pox on all their houses!”

  Ryan stood again, jabbing a finger at the skinny, white-haired man. “Doc, if you don’t shut that lip of yours, I’m going to have to shut it for you!”

  “Please accept my humblest apologies, my dear Ryan, I did not mean to offend….” Doc retreated to another corner of the room and sat on the bed, his wide eyes wandering back and forth between the rest of the group and the walls themselves.

  “Sorry about that. I guess we’re all a bit on edge from being shut up in here. I don’t like it any more than any of you, but it’s the best way to get us all out of here in one piece. That’s the deal I made—we get them all to the table, and our obligation is done. The sooner we blow out of here, the better. Between Carrington, Tellen and the sec boys in here, that meet’s gonna be a bastard powder keg any way you look at it.”

  “Any chance we can get a head start before the lead starts flying?” J.B. asked.

  “Doubtful. Carr’ll be looking to me to make the introductions, but there’s no telling what either of those crazy SOBs’ll do when I present the idea in the first place. Granted, I’m not telling either one the other’s going to be there, but I’m sure they’ll all come packing serious hardware. All it’ll take is one twitchy trigger finger, and we’ll be in the middle of an all-out war.”

  “Yeah, and one of those a week is enough already,” Krysty remarked drily. Ryan threw her a stern look, but she didn’t give an inch, just thrust out her chin in defiance.

  “So, we don’t have anything to lose except our freedom, and mebbe what’s left of Doc’s sanity. And if we help out these whitecoats, they’re gonna send us on our way with a wag, gas and food, and just wave goodbye as we drive off into the sunset?” J.B. snorted. “I’ve heard plans with a better chance of succeeding out of hardcore jolt addicts. You sure this is the way you want to play it?”

  Ryan shook his head. “No, but unless you got a plan that involves defeating these mag-locks with your fingernails, and making it more than five steps down a corridor before begin gassed to the floor, I don’t see any other way.”

  Krysty lowered her voice. “You said they were lookin’ for women. We could use that to get a guard down, take his clothes and sec gear and ‘escort’ us to the surface.”

  “Yeah, except none of us know any way out of here. It’d be pretty suspicious to see a guard with no idea where he’s going.” Ryan jerked a thumb at the camera in the corner. “Besides, I haven’t seen a room in here yet that didn’t have extra eyeballs. Where you going to do this and not be seen?”

  “Just a thought, lover, that’s all. If this is the way you say to go, I’ll back you every step.”

  Ryan looked at Krysty a moment, feeling that surge of love, and simply nodded. “All right, then.”

  Mildred’s expression turned dreamy. “Man, I sure would have liked to see their medical facilities. Any place that can heal a person as fast as they did Ryan has got to have some incredible equipment.” She shook her head. “Ah, well, maybe next time we pass through. I’m in.”

  Krysty said nothing, but simply nodded again, with Jak right behind her.

  His mouth set in a thin line, J.B.’s head bobbed curtly, leaving only one. Walking over to Doc, Ryan knelt next to him. “Doc, we’ve all got to be in this together, you understand? I know you’ve got a powerful hate for the whitecoats, but just this once, let’s give it a try and work with them. What do you say?”

  The old man turned his rheumy, reddened eyes to Ryan. “You know that I am always your faithful man, come hell or high water, sir.”
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  Ryan nodded. “Okay, Doc’s in. Let’s get this bastard thing set up and over with so we can all get the hell out of here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ryan stood under the shade of a large, tan canopy, its sides open to let the hot plains wind push the sweat around on the back of his neck. He scanned the horizon and hills all around with a pair of powerful binoculars, looking for the slightest movement, anything larger than a jackrabbit, but seeing nothing.

  “While I appreciate your vigilance, Mr. Cawdor, I wouldn’t be too concerned with any trap either side may attempt to spring on us. I assure you, we’re well prepared to handle any contingency.” Administrator Carr was dressed in plain fatigues and a t-shirt under his constant white lab coat, which was slowly being speckled a light brown by the dusty wind swirling around them. Yellow-tinted aviator sunglasses protected his eyes, and he held a metal canister filled with cold water that he sipped from every few minutes.

  Ryan had to admit the other man might have a good point. There were four heavily armed and armored guards, one at each corner of the canopy. More were posted at the corner of the second large canopy where the rest of his friends, including Rachel and Sergeant Caddeus, sat or stood. Behind them were three armored personnel carriers the likes of which Ryan had never seen before—squat, wide-bodied vehicles with huge tires that lifted the body at least five feet off the ground. The entire body was made of some kind of dull gray metal, with bulbous, closed pods on the top and sides that held a variety of weapons, including missiles and at least one chain gun, and no exposed windows. Waltrop had told him everyone inside saw out using cameras. Each vehicle held twenty men, half of which were arrayed in neat lines in front of each APC, the other half of which were manning stations inside the wag itself. While Ryan would have loved to get a look at the innards—J.B. even more so—he hadn’t expressed a whit of interest in it, but had simply nodded.