by Jeff Carlson
Cam followed her. “Goddammit, wait,” he said, looking for Deborah’s eyes instead of Ruth’s. He was slowed by his ribs and Ruth had already limped to the next blowdown, grabbing for handholds among its jagged branches.
She’d been like this ever since Hernandez left them.
“You have to talk to her,” Cam said, striding alongside Deborah, but the tall blond only shrugged, almost indifferent.
“I think she’s right. We need to keep moving.”
“If she breaks her leg,” Cam said, raising his voice.
Suddenly Ruth stopped in front of them. Cam looked out across the hillside. Forty yards ahead, Estey had raised his hand, signaling for them across the snarled trees, mud, and water. In the space between, Goodrich and Ballard also stood waiting. The soldiers made three strong human shapes among the debris.
Cam waved back at Estey and said, to Ruth, “It’s stupid for you to walk in front. We have to get back to the others.”
But that wasn’t what had stopped her. She’d found a bird. “Oh,” Deborah said softly as Ruth knelt and reached for the pathetic creature.
The ‚nch couldn’t have been in the plague zone very long because it was still alive, although its feathers were molting from its belly and neck. It †opped weakly in the muck, trying to escape. It had no strength in its wings and it might have been blind, too. The bird’s eyes were a cloudy blue-white that Cam had never seen before.
“This way!” Estey yelled, and Cam waved again, although he wasn’t sure if Ruth would obey. She hesitated with her gloves on either side of the bird. He thought she must not have seen the bloated chipmunks they’d passed ‚fteen minutes ago, two little bodies that had washed down the mountainside together. The chipmunks would have stopped her, too, and he preferred her wild impatience.
Ruth could be careless of her own safety when she was manic, but it also made her dangerous to anything in her way. They couldn’t afford for her to fall apart. They needed to harness her expertise one more time — and they were still an hour from their rendezvous. Cam hoped to God she’d make it.
“Look at him,” she said. She meant the bird.
“We need to go,” Cam said, and Deborah added, “Ruth, the sun’s coming up.”
“Right.” She didn’t move at ‚rst. “You’re right. It’s just a fucking bird.” Ruth stood up and pushed past them with her trembling, ‚lthy gloves.
They were on foot because Hernandez had driven back to Sylvan Mountain, both to rejoin the base and as a decoy for enemy satellites. His trucks were far more likely to attract attention than a handful of people, especially since his vehicles were moving toward the front. If there was an attack, Hernandez wanted to draw the ‚re to himself. He was buying time. He’d organized a †ight of helicopters to take Ruth north again, but he didn’t want to risk a pickup too close to Sylvan Mountain. The Chinese had too many guns focused on the area. The invaders had also continued to push their advantage in the air war. Helicopters would be vulnerable no matter what he did, but Hernandez intended to lead a massive counteroffensive to push the Chinese back. A diversion.
You just make sure you do your best, Hernandez had said as Ruth leaned over his forearm, jabbing the inside of his arm with a needle that she immediately sank into her own wrist. That was why she was so upset. It was clear that Hernandez didn’t expect to see the outcome of her work, and Cam thought he would probably ask all of his sickest men and women to follow him in the front waves of the assault. Cam thought they would say yes.
The worst that Ruth faced were scratches or a turned ankle, and she seemed eager to hurt herself, shoving through the branches and mud. They were incubating. They’d dropped below the barrier forty minutes ago and the perfected vaccine would beat out the earlier model, swiftly multiplying as it was ‚rst to disassemble the plague. At the same time, the booster nano should help protect them against the radiation.
Hernandez would give his life for hers. With more time in the labs in Grand Lake, Ruth had the ability to turn the war in their favor by improving the booster nano. There seemed to be no limit to what it could do. Accelerating a man’s capacity to heal was only the beginning. She might be able to double their strength, their re†exes, their sight. But as always the problem was contamination. If they could pass an improved booster among themselves, they would inevitably spread it to the enemy. Supersoldiers would have the advantage only for a short period before the enemy rose up with the same new traits. The United States would need to launch their new attacks in a single coordinated thrust, if there was time — if there were still enough Americans left.
The swamp turned black as Estey led them into an area where the collapsing forest had ignited and burned before the †oods extinguished the ‚re. Cam saw another dying bird. Then he spotted a blue Pepsi can and wondered how it had gotten there.
From somewhere north came the long, shuddering wake of jet ‚ghters. “Down!” Estey screamed. Most of them splashed into the charcoal-encrusted grime. Ruth stood looking up. Foshtomi grabbed the back of her jacket. “Get down, you idiot,” Foshtomi said, but the thundering sound was far away and getting farther, fading into the night sky behind them.
Cam turned to see the dark west horizon stutter with orange bursts of light as gigantic explosions ‚lled the valleys beyond Sylvan Mountain. U.S. ‚ghters were slamming the Chinese again, preparing the way for the ground assault.
Hernandez had some advantages. He had elevation. It was ironic. The Colorado armies had stayed above ten thousand feet because they were afraid of the plague, ceding most of the lowlands and highways to the Chinese, but now they would crash into the enemy with all the momentum of superior positions. Not for her, Cam thought. They weren’t only doing it for her, although Hernandez might have tried more conservative tactics if he hadn’t wanted to protect Ruth above everything else. That was why she was so unsettled. Thousands more would die to serve her, no matter if it was her decision or not.
The sun touched them at last as they hiked out of the swamp onto a ridgeline. The light felt warm and clean — and the wind began to carry the sounds of artillery. Then there were more planes. The clamor of war followed them for miles and Ruth kept her head down, limping through the rock and scorched grass as fast as she was able.
The thrum of helicopters echoed from the shallow mountain pass in front of them. It became a roar as three snub-nosed Black Hawks surged out of the landscape ahead. Estey knelt with his radio as Goodrich waved both arms over his head, so Cam was surprised when two of the attack choppers banked away and kept going. More decoys. The third helicopter came straight for them and †ared hard, lowering its skids to the earth as the crew chief banged open the door.
* * * *
“Do you trust me?” Ruth asked, leaning close enough that her hair whipped at Cam’s face. He barely heard her. On the †ight deck, the sound of the rotors was bone-jarring. The turbines screamed each time the chopper lifted and swung through the terrain. Cam looked out from the noise at the quiet world †itting by. The shapes of mountains heaved up and down, but the desolation was constant. Endless miles were burned or †ooded or brown with dead trees.
Ruth leaned away to see his face. There was something new in her eyes, excitement and fear, an idea, and Cam nodded. He let her brush her lips against his good ear again.
“I need you to trust me one more time,” she said.
* * * *
Estey’s Rangers were separated from each other as soon as the chopper landed in Grand Lake. Cam and Deborah were pulled into the effort as well. Special Forces medics drew several hypodermics of blood from each of them. Other soldiers led them to command shelters and barracks, rapidly pricking the insides of their arms with needles, then stabbing those bloody slivers into other men and women. It was almost funny. Cam was badly worn and the process had a madcap feel that reminded him of the bumbling clown shows he’d seen at various fairs and amusement parks when he was a kid.
Where did that memory come from? he wondered, pressin
g a gauze pad to his bleeding arm as three soldiers rushed him toward another bunker. They shouted once at a civilian. The man tried to grab Cam but the soldiers punched him in the face.
Grand Lake was in turmoil. Most of the area was evacuating. Cam found himself in a tent crowded with pilots in full †ight gear, all of whom ran from the barracks as soon as they were inoculated. Cam also passed through two shelters full of of‚cers where he learned as much as he needed, listening to them con‚rm signals and rendezvous dates. A full platoon had taken Ruth to her lab. Some of the top commanders were also staying, at least until alternate bases were established below the barrier. They were trying their damnedest to get out of here without crippling their defenses. That was impossible. The transition would be a staggering amount of work exactly when they needed most to focus on the enemy, but they were too vulnerable on these peaks. Chinese ‚ghters had broken through to Grand Lake eight times in the past two days, strafing its makeshift air bases and ground crews. Enemy planes could come again any minute.
Cam knew something they didn’t. Neither sides’ efforts would matter if Ruth was successful. She no longer planned to improve the booster. She imagined a way to remove the enemy completely, and yet there was no guarantee that her scheme would work. Until then, Cam could only do his part.
He spotted Foshtomi once in between the tents, running with her own bodyguards. Another time he saw a mob on the hillside across from him, a near-riot in the refugee camps that must have gathered around another of his squadmates. A lot of the refugees were already gone, taking their chances with the early model of the vaccine. Some had stayed, however, either from inertia or to help organize the rest.
Allison Barrett was one of those who’d remained. She found Cam that evening as he ate with Ballard and Goodrich. The rest of their squad had yet to reappear, and his heart leapt at the sight of a familiar face. Cam stood up from the table and walked past his guards, embracing her.
“Come with me,” Allison whispered. Her blue eyes were bright and urgent.
He shook his head. “I can’t.” He thought she meant outside the tent, but Allison had larger plans.
Allison bared her teeth in her ‚erce, beautiful grin and said, “You can help us. Please. Regular people are important, too. We need more leaders and you’ve been under the barrier so many times. You know what to expect.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Please. We’re going east.” She kept her arm cinched around his waist. “This place will get hit again. You know it will.”
“Yes.”
Ballard said they’d used the snow†ake. The ground assaults out of Sylvan Mountain had failed almost immediately, beaten back by Chinese air superiority as Hernandez must have expected. Hours ago, Grand Lake had dusted the Chinese as they pursued Hernandez back into the mountains, decimating many of the U.S. forces as well. It was a desperate show of strength. Both sides were frantic and outraged. The rumor was that the launch codes were locked. There could be a nuclear exchange, and Grand Lake was surely a prime target.
“You should go,” Cam said.
“You can’t help her any more. You’ve done enough.” Allison bared her teeth again in her aggressive way. “She’s not in love with you.”
“What?”
“She doesn’t love you. Not like that.”
“That’s not what this is about,” Cam said honestly. The connection he felt with Ruth was much more than as a lover. It was layered and powerful. Yes, they had been physically intimate, touching and kissing. Maybe there would be more. But his feelings for her went beyond that. He had to see this through.
“You can change your mind,” Allison said. “You can come with us anytime.”
Then she walked away. Cam went after her, although he stopped at the wide door of the tent. Two of his guards had followed him and he glanced out at the hazy night, searching among the busy lights of American planes. Would there be any warning?
Maybe it would be better just to vanish in a single white instant of nuclear ‚re. They wouldn’t suffer. They could stop running at last.
Cam thought of Nikola Ulinov, whom he could never meet. He thought of Ruth, furiously trying to outrace the tide of war. Despite everything, he felt still and quiet. He’d done what he could. Now it was out of his hands again. One way or the other he’d do everything he could to help Ruth. He continued to wait and watch as Allison joined the bustle of soldiers rushing to get out of this marked place.
24
The command bunker was hidden beneath an ordinary-looking Winnebago camper, like so many of the shelters in Grand Lake. Ruth almost didn’t get inside. The four soldiers stationed at the camper door were USAF air commandos and they’d unsafed their weapons as Ruth approached, which made her nervous and angry.
“I’m under orders, ma’am,” their captain said.
“Goddammit, so am I.”
“This is Dr. Goldman,” Estey said beside her, but Ruth thought her escort was part of the problem. Cam had asked Estey, Goodrich, and Foshtomi to stick with her. By now, the Rangers were accustomed to protecting her. Unfortunately, the USAF captain’s ‚rst responsibility was to consider everyone a threat.
“She’s the nanotech lady,” Estey said.
“I need to see Governor Shaug.” Ruth had new identi‚cation and showed it to them.
The captain didn’t move to take it, although one of his men turned his submachine gun aside and reached for the paperwork. “Call it in,” the captain told him. “The rest of you, back off a little, okay?”
“Okay,” Ruth said. They were all tense. They all expected to die and maybe it was worst for the USAF squad, standing with their backs against a safe hole — if the hole was safe. Ruth did not doubt that the bunkers could withstand conventional bombs or artillery, but Grand Lake’s engineers had almost certainly lacked the resources to build deep enough to survive a nuclear strike.
She glanced at the sky again and Foshtomi unconsciously mimicked the gesture beside her. The impulse was too powerful. Camou†age netting stretched from the camper to a nearby trailer, however, forming a roof over its door and the space in between. Ruth felt blind. It was silly, but it calmed her when she could see empty sky and she looked up again even though she knew the netting was there. Stop it, she thought. She turned to watch the USAF troops instead. The man with her paperwork had gone to a phone mounted on the camper wall, and Ruth tried to ‚gure out how the command shelter maintained links with its radio, radar, cell, and satellite arrays without creating a hub of electronic noise for the enemy to pinpoint. Maybe they’d run lines all over the mountain to disperse their signals, hiding their dishes and transceivers in other campers and tents. Did it matter?
She missed Cam. They should have been together at the end, but he’d quietly listened to her and he’d nodded and then he was gone. Deborah hadn’t been so easy to convince, but she’d left, too, and now Ruth was alone. The Rangers weren’t friends. They had never warmed to her, despite her respect for them and the blood loss they’d shared.
“Foshtomi,” Ruth said. The young woman turned, and Ruth tried to smile. “Thank you,” she said.
“Sure.”
No, I mean it, Ruth thought, but the USAF trooper hung up his telephone and said, “Goldman, you’re clear.”
“I need these three,” Ruth said.
“No, ma’am,” the captain said. He waved for her to walk forward from the others. “We going to pat you down. Take off your jacket, please.”
“I need them,” Ruth said tightly, hoping not to let her adrenaline show in her voice. “Tell Shaug.”
“We’re locked down, ma’am.”
“Tell Shaug I need them or I can’t guarantee the next step of the booster will work. They’re some of the original carriers.” The last part was almost true. Another scientist might have questioned her, but she didn’t think Governor Shaug or the military command would argue. They were too desperate for any advances in the nanotech.
“All right.” The captain po
inted for his man to return to the phone. Meanwhile, he slung his weapon and ran his hands closely over Ruth’s body, not shy at all about her crotch, waist, or armpits. He noticed her cell phone, of course, and pulled it from her front pocket.
“I need that to call the lab,” she said.
He did not ‚nd the tiny glass welds she’d made on the back sides of two of her shirt buttons.
* * * *
The stairwell went down farther than Ruth had anticipated. Her phone almost certainly wouldn’t work. That was a serious problem. Ruth looked back once before the door sealed, rubbing her thumb inside her palm as if she still had her etched stone. Then the cold in the tunnel raised goose bumps along her arms and neck and she stumbled on the concrete steps.
Estey caught her. “Careful,” he said.
The stairs were very steep. Ruth quickly passed through four giant steel doors, each one about a full story below the next. They made a series of buffers meant to absorb and de†ect a blast. Maybe the bunker would survive. Each of the barricades had to be opened and then dogged shut again by the USAF colonel who’d come to lead them inside.
A ‚fth door led to a room about the size of a small house. It was crowded with computers, display screens, and people. The uproar of voices was ampli‚ed by the bare concrete walls and ceiling. This place was a box, and Ruth guessed that it held more than a hundred soldiers. Most were seated along the banks of equipment. Others stood or walked in the paths in between. The vast majority of the uniforms were Air Force blue, but there were also people in tan or olive drab and Ruth saw more than one knot of civilians.
“This way,” the colonel said.
Ruth went left when he moved right. He seemed to be heading to a door across from them, but Ruth had seen Governor Shaug inside a glass-walled of‚ce. She walked straight at him.