by Janet Shore
John asked,
“Don’t you think that the owners will have people out at their lots protecting the vehicles from theft?”
Randall shrugged his shoulders,
“No, most of those dealership owners are dead.”
John offered another excuse for not filling their gas cans,
“It is still probably a good idea to wait a few days before filling our gas cans. Even if we could secure a new car or truck at the dealer, where could we reliably drive it? There is no guarantee that after we exhausted our tank of gas we would be anywhere close to being able to refuel. The fuel shortage is not over. Even if we do not travel to another city and just use the car to drive to town and back, eventually the car may be out of gas. Then, once we walk away from it, someone else with a full gas can will fill it and drive off with it. So, the whole idea of getting a new ride, having a sustainable fuel supply for it, and securing the vehicle from theft tells me that it is more trouble than it’s worth. Besides I do not mind a handout, but I am uneasy about stealing something.”
Randall objected,
“In this situation, we might have to steal to survive. If it is a question of us or them, then they will have to part with their vehicles. Even if the dealer is protecting his lot, Antonio Prenka will allow us to use our device to buy a vehicle from the dealer. Antonio will pay the man. That is not stealing.”
John sighed, “No I suppose it isn’t stealing in that case.”
Randall added, “Antonio Prenka is all we need. Put your trust in him.”
Chapter IX
Randall’s cave lit up with a soft orange glow as the morning sun greeted the two men. Randall got up first washing himself with bottled water and trimming his beard with the scissors he had found. He walked over to an old trunk he had put at one end of the cave. Opening it, he removed two eighty pound pistol grip crossbows. John woke up, stretched, and looked outside. The morning was beautiful on the meadow in front of the cave, hiding the horror and devastation that surrounded them. John scratched his right arm. He felt sore on his right side and a little dizzy. The two men left the cave entrance and relieved themselves. Randall suggested,
“I thought we could hunt this morning for some small game to eat. That will save us from using our supplies too fast. I dug out a pistol crossbow for you. We have plenty of arrows stockpiled, but once we get the game, we have to make sure that we pick up our arrows that missed so we don’t lose too many.”
Randall and John began their hunt for a meal. They crossed the meadow and the road to get to a wooded area. After about two hours of hunting, Randall shot a rabbit. As he approached the rabbit to pick it up, he heard a horrid screeching. Several buzzards descended upon the rabbit, helping themselves to the meal. With all of the death caused by the monster army, carrion populations dramatically increased making hunting even small game almost impossible. Randall and John hunted the whole morning. The pattern repeated. As soon as they killed anything to eat, the buzzards would get to the meal before they could. Empty handed, they returned to the cave and opened some of the food from the grocery store for lunch.
After about a week, the two men gave up on trying to hunt their food. John developed sores on his extremities. They headed toward town to find a doctor. Within the ruins of the hospital, qualified medical personnel that had survived the horrors ran a free makeshift clinic that was supplied regularly with drugs, medicine, bandages, and sterile instruments by the military government. John waited at the clinic to be seen. As he looked around the room, there were many covered with visible sores. After an hour, John followed the nurse to a room where he waited for the doctor. When the doctor entered the room, John said,
“Doctor, you look terrible.”
The doctor replied,
“I am getting over a severe case of gastroenteritis because I drank water from a well where the water had gone bad. The entire water supply was infected with bacteria. Now, what seems to be the problem?”
John took off his shirt exposing his sores. The doctor examined his arms and his back where the sores had spread. He asked,
“Is it painful?”
John replied,
“Yes, it is.”
The doctor explained,
“There has been an epidemic of these sores. I would say most of the cases I see involve symptoms like yours. We treat it with antiviral, anti-inflammatory medicines, and give you a topical cream as well. We don’t know what it is.”
John left the clinic with a bagful of medicine and a follow-up appointment. Randall and John stopped at the grocery for some supplies and headed back to their cave. In the quiet twilight, the devices on their hands became active. The projected image of Antonio Prenka glowed in an eerie green monochrome color, quite unlike the usual full color image. The image scrambled in odd ways a few times finally disappearing altogether. An unfamiliar voice announced,
“We, the Danali, are enemies of the Jazene. They outfitted you with the communication devices that you are wearing. We have hijacked their channel to bring you this message. We have all of the people taken in what you have called ‘The Great Abduction’ with us. They are safe. The Jazene have lied to you in saying that they have those people. They do not. The Jazene have lied to you in other ways as well. They have also lied to you about us. This is a great deception but we will not go into the details of it in this message. The Earth has suffered great collateral damage from our war with the Jazene.
The devices that you wear are not safe. You cannot remove them. That would kill you instantly. You cannot cut off your hand. That would kill you instantly. They are responsible for the epidemic outbreak of sores and the contamination of water and resources. We will use the devices when we can to communicate with you. The Jazene will continue to use them as well. It is up to you to decide who is telling you the truth and who is lying to you. The Jazene created the monster army. At the stage that we attacked the facility, the mutant monster army was not fully matured. If they had been fully mature, they would have posed a much greater threat to Earth. The time to act was at hand, before the situation was beyond intervention. We intended to destroy their laboratory facility completely, but there was a failsafe mechanism. The Jazene automatic defenses released what they had to scourge the earth. If the Jazene mutant army had grown any larger the human population would have been reduced to zero. As it turned out, the collateral damage was one third of humanity. The Jazene want to use Earth as a military base against us. We cannot allow that. This is a war between the Jazene and the Danali. Do not worry. Another is coming. We repeat. Another is coming. This is also a war about …”
Suddenly, the transmission was cut off. There was a lot of weird noises and static coming from the devices. John and Randall looked at each other in amazement. The image of Antonio Prenka appeared again, wavered disappeared, then reappeared in full color. The next voice was his familiar voice,
“My friends, the Danali have intercepted the frequency of our communication. We apologize for any alarm. I know you are suffering. I know that you do not need more pressure to choose sides in a war that has cost you dearly. The Danali have lied to you. I know the confusion this news brings. I am sorry. The epidemic of sores you are experiencing is not coming from the devices attached to your hands. Disease and water contamination are an aftereffect of the pestilence released in the wake of the Danali’s release of the monster army upon you. They did not release the army to save the earth but to destroy it. They almost have. Friends, we are the ones that are giving you food and medicine as we fight the good fight against the Danali. We will protect you from them. The devices you wear are safe. It is true that they cannot be removed. They are our vital link with each other. “
Antonio Prenka droned on for about a half hour. Afterwards, John looked at Randall,
“Do you believe any of that crap?”
Randall replied,
“I don’t believe either of them. We were better off before they brought their war here. Life was normal. Sure, it had
its ups and downs, sometimes worse, sometimes better. There were also horrible lives and very happy rich lives. Now everyone has a horrible life. Thank you very much. I don’t care who started it or who is responsible. They won’t be able to rebuild it in our lifetime.”
Half way around the world in what used to be Bulgaria, the military government there had rounded up a dozen people that were refusing to be fitted with the devices. The officer in charge had lined them up on the side of the road with orders to shoot them. The firing squad aimed their weapons. From the sound of the weapons being readied, one man shouted,
“Run!”
The people started running in all directions to escape. The officer gave the order to fire. The squad had to run after them in pursuit. Chaotically they were able to mow down all of the people. They dragged their bodies and threw them in the back of the truck. This incident was not isolated to this province. All over the world, the local military governments had been instructed by Antonio Prenka that if the devices could not be fitted onto a person, then that person must be killed. Antonio’s order was blindly carried out globally.
There were small groups of people that had escaped the slaughter. One large group, Humans Altogether Resisting Persecution, abbreviated HARP, had four branches in what used to be France. Without electronic communication, they had runners carry messages many miles between their hideouts. They stole their weapons from the military. Small groups would ambush an isolated soldier with knives, bows, and their bare hands, kill him, and take his weaponry. The military was aware of their isolated losses and were actively seeking the location of the resistance enclaves. They stole their food, supplies, and other needs from the stores that had been reestablished.
The head of the northern branch, Hugo Durant, and his brother, Pierre, were scavenging for food just before the Danali broke into the Jazene devices. Hugo had just turned the corner when he spotted three men sitting in front of a store all with devices on their hand. Pierre grabbed his shirt and pulled him back out of sight. Then, the Danali sent their message. Pierre and Hugo clearly heard it from their vantage point. Hugo dragged a small notebook out of his shirt pocket. He hastily made notes on the entire exchange, every point that the Danali made, and every point that Antonio Prenka had made. After the broadcast was over, Pierre and Hugo retreated behind some rocks. Pierre excitedly asked,
“Did you hear that?”
Hugo replied,
“Yes, the two sides are blaming each other for the disasters and they are accusing each other of lying to the people of Earth.”
Pierre noted,
“Well, I wouldn’t trust Antonio Prenka. The military kills anyone who refuses to take the Jazene device. The numbers that have been reported to us by eyewitnesses are in the thousands. If we extrapolate that number to the whole earth then the mass killings could be in the millions. He uses these devices to communicate with everyone and coordinate his version of world recovery. He must be in league with the Jazene.”
Hugo added,
“I wouldn’t trust Pope Peter either. He gives safe harbor to Antonio Prenka.”
Pierre continued,
“Look, the Danali’s actions against the Jazene facility released the monster army, but it is not their fault. They did not anticipate that the destruction of the facility would not destroy the army. They are right that losing a third of humanity is better than losing the whole thing. I believe the Danali. Antonio Prenka controls the electronic communication. There are no other alternatives for people that have the devices. For those without the devices, we rely on word of mouth. Our resistance movement is at a terrible disadvantage.”
Hugo suggested,
“Why don’t we print and distribute leaflets. That can be done without electricity.”
Pierre grinned,
“Hugo! That is a brilliant idea! How could we do it?”
Hugo rubbed his face,
“There is an old printing press in a museum in the city. With about ten men and a wagon, we can probably move it to our camp.”
Pierre urgently asked,
“What about the paper? What about the ink?”
Hugo explained,
“Of course, the type setting would be tedious but could be done. I have been to that museum. The display had a full set of type in several different fonts and sizes. We could just use the boxes of printer paper that are sitting undisturbed in the old supply stores. I don’t know where we could get the ink, though.”
Pierre thought he heard something behind him. He turned around and surveyed their location. They did not want to be discovered. Not finding anything, he mused,
“What would our leaflets say? Where would we distribute them?”
Hugo thought for a moment,
“These leaflets would make the case that the Danali are to be believed. Everywhere that our underground goes now, they would distribute leaflets. They would deliver boxes of them to the other three underground enclaves. They could probably cover all of France. Who knows? From there, they may spread to other regions as well. We could just keep pumping them out.”
Pierre objected,
“But we would then be exposing ourselves to further dangers. Now, we are hunted because we do not have the device. If we do this, we would be hunted with fervor for spreading sedition.”
Hugo said,
“There is no ink, so this fantasy cannot come to a reality anyways. However, our safety would be secondary to our mission of spreading our opinion on the truth of the current human situation. The news from the device is one-sided. The Danali felt that they had to break into the channel. We believe the Danali. We need to spread the word.”
Pierre pondered,
“What is ink anyways?”
Hugo answered,
“Before electronic printing, ink was shipped directly from the ink suppliers to the newspapers, magazines, and any other print media. It was not thin like computer printer ink. It was thicker and tacky enough to transfer to the paper when pressed against the inked type. It was rolled onto the type and then pressed against the paper. So there are several kinds of ink of varying viscosities. Ball point pen ink is different than fountain pen ink. These are different from computer inkjet ink. We are talking about ink for an antique printing press which is another matter altogether.”
Pierre asked,
“What if we made our own ink? How would we do it?”
Hugo replied,
“I don’t really know. It would need to have a black pigment to it. It couldn’t be too runny or it would not stay on the type when rolled on. On the other hand, it couldn’t be too sticky or the paper would be glued to the type when pressed. It couldn’t be too thick or it would not transfer to the paper at all. Besides where could we get the materials to make it, even if we knew how to mix it and cook it correctly to the right consistency for a printing press?”
The two men walked back to the underground sanctuary. They took a shortcut out of town through a ransacked used car lot. Pierre stepped carefully around puddles of oil and grease. Hugo was not careful at all. He stepped in a thickened puddle of old motor oil, stepped on a wooden board, and then stepped onto some grass. As we wiped his boot off on the grass, Pierre stared at the wooden board that held Hugo’s boot print. He exclaimed,
“Hugo, Hugo, look at this board!”
Hugo looked at the board and then looked at Pierre,
“So?”
Pierre said,
“It is a print of your boot. The motor oil that you stepped in acted like ink! Why can’t we use this motor oil for our ink? Used motor oil is already full of black pigment. If it’s too runny we can cook it to the right viscosity. If it’s too thick we can thin it with some turpentine. There is plenty of turpentine at the paint store. We can use that chemist, Alfred, back at the underground to help us get it just right for the printing press. There is a huge supply of used motor oil in these car lots.”
Hugo said,
“You are right! That just might work! We might be able to
make enough printers’ ink to do the leaflet mission!”
For the next week, Hugo sent out teams to the used car lots to drain the oil pans of the cars. They returned with gallons of used oil of various viscosities. To transport the oil, they used a stolen military jeep. Alfred went to work, testing each batch and then specifying how long it should be cooked. After cooking, he would examine it again, making adjustments as needed. Another team took the stolen jeep and retrieved hundreds of boxes of printer paper. Yet another team of a dozen men used the jeep to go to the museum to retrieve the printing press. They had no problem forcing the door of the museum. No one was around. They pulled a wagon next to the old printing press. In unison, they lifted the press onto the wagon. They loaded all of the type and typesetting accessories as well. It took their full effort to pull the wagon out of the museum. They hooked the hitch of the wagon to the back of the jeep. Returning to the underground enclave, they unhitched and wheeled the press into the exact location that Hugo set aside for the print shop. The type was set out carefully on tables. The military jeep was low on gas. Two men returned the jeep to the place they stole it from and snuck away unseen. Hugo and Pierre had finished composing the leaflet. From their written copy, the two men typeset the entire leaflet. With Alfred watching, Pierre placed the plate of type onto the press. He carefully rolled the ink out on the type. Hugo placed a sheet of paper, and operated the press. Coming off the press, the ink was wet, but didn’t bleed or run on the paper. Thanks to Alfred’s ingenuity, diligence, and testing, the ink was perfect. It dried in less than a minute. Pierre touched the print on the paper. It did not smear from the pressure of his fingers. The printing press was cleaned with turpentine which removed the ink effectively but left a greasy residue for about an hour as it evaporated. Hugo made sure that the ventilation of the print shop area had effective outside exposure to air. Unless it was a completely still wind, there would be plenty of flow for a full exchange of air. The full cycle of testing was complete. The press would normally print hundreds of copies between cleanings. When the printed page lost the crispness of its letters or showed any smearing at all, it was time for another cleaning. Pierre handed Hugo the test page. Hugo carefully read the first printed leaflet which said,