Earth-Thunder

by Patrick Tilley

  ‘Automobiles.’ Karlstrom’s mouth wrinkled with distaste. ‘Worse thing that ever happened to this country. That’s what destroyed it! The auto and the truck changed people’s values. Made people selfish and greedy. That didn’t happen on the trains. When you travelled by rail, you were part of a community. The journey was a shared experience. The train came from somewhere, you boarded it, got off when it arrived at your destination, and the train went on to somewhere else.

  ‘There was continuity. The rail head, the depot, was the link between the townships and central to the life of each. The point where goods and people came in and out, where you got news of what was happening down the line. You were part of a beautifully controlled system that you could depend on. Where everything ran to a timetable. But what held the system together, what kept the whole thing on the rails were people – working side by side. From top to bottom of the organisation, everyone had a specific job to do and they did it to the best of their abilities.’

  ‘So in a sense, this railway thing was a role model for the Federation. The whole wagon-train concept, the way-stations…’

  ‘Exactly. Teamwork, Brickman. That’s what was lost when the highways and the automobile came along. They gave individuals the freedom to go wherever they wanted whenever they wanted.’ Karlstrom saw Steve’s reaction. ‘Yes, that’s right. Freedom. One of the word-concepts you’ve picked up from your Mute friends. It’s not listed in the Federation dictionary, but amongst the First Family, it’s the subject of constant debate.

  ‘Like I said before, during the time you travelled on a train, you were part of a community, but as soon as two, three or four people started shutting themselves inside those wheeled trash-bins, their whole personality changed. They began to compete with the owners of other automobiles. Everyone wanted their trash-bin to be bigger, faster, better and above all different to their neighbours’.

  ‘In those days, when America was run by money, there were organisations ready to pander to these kind of desires. But you can’t satisfy them. It just leads to more jealousy, greed, lawlessness and anti-social behaviour of all kinds. Just having transportation to get from A to B wasn’t enough. Mobility became a way of life.

  ‘Bored with your surroundings? You got into your box and went somewhere else. Looking for the end of the rainbow. But all that breeds is dissatisfaction because once the novelty wears off, you discover that there is just the same as here. Life has to be lived wherever you are.’

  Karlstrom massaged another length of copper pipe with his oily rag. ‘Used to be a state out west, California … the word got around it was a great place to be. The only place to be. And it was true. Great climate, sun, sand, sea, mountains … gorgeous landscape, beautiful people. Only it didn’t stay that way. From all over the rest of America, people packed their belongings into their chromium-plated, air-conditioned trash-bins and started moving west, looking to get themselves a piece of the same dream.

  ‘And pretty soon, that dream turned into a nightmare. They fucked up California just like they fucked up everywhere else. That’s what people used to call "freedom" in those days, Brickman. To be able, if you wanted to, to go to hell in a handcart. We call that being out of control – like a runaway loco. That’s why this country went off the rails and into the ravine – and that’s why the Family has to keep a tight hold on things. That was one of the harsh lessons we learned from the Holocaust. You can’t turn people loose if they don’t have a sense of direction.’

  ‘Are you planning to instill one – or does that mean the First Family will never allow Trackers to have that kind of freedom again?’

  ‘And risk letting another bunch of degenerate air-heads drag us into another Holocaust?’ Karlstrom shook his head. ‘I doubt it. Last time round they almost killed everything off for good. This planet can only take so much. If you’re ever allowed to access the records, you’ll find out just how bad it was. It’s taken us over nine hundred years to haul ourselves out of the pit – just to get back – in technological terms – to where we started. Nobody in their right minds would ever want to go through that again.

  ‘Understand this, Brickman. The Family is not against the concept of freedom. As you know for yourself, Trackers are free to do all kinds of things – within certain limits. What the Family has done, and will continue to do, is decide where the edges are. One day perhaps, you’ll be making those kinds of decisions. And when you get that high, you’ll realise that we, the people that run things, do so out of a sense of duty – not because we’re a bunch of power-hungry maniacs –’

  ‘Sir, I–!’

  Karlstrom silenced Steve with a raised hand. ‘Brickman! Fer chrissakes! I wasn’t born yesterday! I once felt the same way! How do you think you’ve got this far? Why d’you think we’ve chosen to work with you? It’s because we know you better than you know yourself! We know what buttons to push! That’s why Commander Jefferson had your marks downgraded in the final exams at the Flight Academy. Yes! After docking points for the couple of odd foul-ups you came the closest anyone has ever come to achieving the perfect score! So we arranged for you to come fourth. Are you going to tell me that didn’t light a fire under your tail?’

  ‘No, sir. It did.’

  ‘Damn right, it did.’

  ‘How did Fran – I mean, Commander Jefferson – come to be involved in that particular decision?’

  ‘She hasn’t told you? Maybe it’s time you knew. She’s been running you and Roz for the last five years.’

  ‘Running …?’

  ‘She’s been your controller. You two were put on a Special Treatment List at birth. There’s a whole department of AMEXICO whose job it is to follow you people through every stage of your development. When Commander Jefferson went to work in that department she was given your file.’

  ‘I didn’t realise I was that important.…’

  ‘Oh, you are Brickman, you are. She’s made it her business to know everything about you. And now you’re pushing her button. Kind of ironic, don’t you think?’ Karlstrom checked the steam pressure gauge and opened the door to the fire-box. ‘Okay, fire her up.’

  Steve tossed in several more billets – logs that had been sawn into thirty-inch lengths then quartered with an axe. His technique was improving with each load, and the scorching heat that met his first attempts was now much less of a problem.

  ‘Not bad,’ shouted Karlstrom. ‘You learn fast. That’s what I like about you. You could have a real future with us, y’know that? And not just because of your present relationship with Commander Jefferson. That’s not going to last, but I guess you’ve already figured that out. I’m talking about AMEXICO. That’s the best route to the top for a young man in a hurry.’ He paused to eye Steve. ‘That’s where you want to end up, isn’t it?’

  It was like being stripped naked. ‘Sir, I, uhh – why I just never thought about it! I mean, y’know – that far ahead –’

  Karlstrom laughed. ‘Not much! Only every other second! Jeez! Don’t you ever come clean?! I respect ambition! How the hell d’you think I got to be head of AMEXICO? I’m not bullshitting you, Brickman. Play your cards right and one day you could be the man to take over my spot when it’s time for me to move on. And where would that put you?’

  ‘One step away from the Oval Office…’

  Karlstrom smiled and spread his hands. ‘It could all be yours, Brickman. All you have to do is become a team-player.’

  ‘I thought I was, sir.’

  ‘I’m talking about getting your head totally together, Brickman. That means ditching any lingering thoughts about playing both ends against the middle – like keeping a door open to the Plainfolk in case things get too hot here. And don’t insult my intelligence by trying to deny it. I understand.

  ‘You aren’t the only mexican to have run into problems. That’s the one danger about working amongst those people. It’s not their skins that are poisonous, it’s their fucking ideas! Once you take that shit on board, it’s like a worm
eating into your brain! That’s why you were only awarded probationary membership of the Family. A lot of people who decide these things still don’t feel you can be wholly trusted.’

  ‘But you aren’t one of them. If you were, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.’

  Karlstrom leaned out of the window to check the line. When he turned back, he was smiling broadly. ‘That’s something else I like about you, Brickman. Talk about brass neck! Beats me how you’ve got this far.’

  ‘Somebody up there must like me.’ Steve hesitated for a moment then added: ‘Despite the fact that I’m a Mute.’

  The smile disappeared from Karlstrom’s face. ‘This is not the time or place to push that particular boat out, Brickman. In fact, I would strongly advise you not to broach the subject again until someone of the very highest rank invites you to do so. Comprendo?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘As for me trusting you, let me put it this way. You’ve got this far this fast for several reasons, but also because you haven’t been found out. I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again because you obviously still haven’t got the message. I’ve got your number, Brickman. I know there are ‘bodies’ buried out there. But I don’t propose to look for them because I’m not out to destroy you, I’m trying to find a way for us to work together.’

  ‘I’d like nothing better, sir.’

  ‘Exactly. I knew you’d say that. In fact I could have written that line for you. But let’s cut the crap. There’s only one way for partnerships like this to work. Both of us have to get what we want. Now I’m quite happy to be a rung on your ladder. The question is – are you willing to be a rung on mine?’

  I am getting into very deep water, thought Steve. But the bait Karlstrom was dangling was almost impossible to resist. Next to the President-General, Karlstrom – in Steve’s reckoning – was one of, if not the, most powerful men in the Federation. And here he was offering a deal! It could be a trap, but it was the element of danger which got Steve’s adrenaline flowing. The opportunity to match his wits against one of the sharpest minds in the Federation was an irresistible challenge. Yes … Karlstrom really did have his number

  ‘I think we’ve got ourselves a deal, sir.’ Steve pulled the work-glove off his right hand. ‘If you would not consider it an impertinence, why don’t we shake on it?’

  ‘Sure. Why not?’ Karlstrom didn’t smile but he couldn’t hide the amused glint in his eye.

  Reaching Beaumont they ran off into a siding and lunched in the small railside canteen. The signal staff and overseers were Trackers, but there were a number of Mutes dressed in faded blue shirts and bib overalls working in the railyard. Karlstrom had chosen Beaumont as his outward destination because it had a triangular spur which allowed the engine to be run off the up line – which went as far as Baton Rouge – and back onto the down line, enabling them to run nose first into Grand Central.

  ‘Clearwater,’ announced Karlstrom.

  Steve moved a step closer to avoid having to shout over the background noise of the loco. ‘Sir …?’

  ‘I think we could have a problem with her.’ Karlstrom switched his attention back and forth from Steve to the line up ahead. ‘You know she’s undergoing these various tests at the Life Institute. And that she’s due to give birth to your child about two weeks before the New Year.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good, well, there’s a strong body of medical opinion who want to go for termination fairly rapidly thereafter. They want to carry out a complete biopsy. Strip her right down to the bare bones – and beyond.’ Karlstrom saw the look in Steve’s eyes. ‘Since you have a certain, uhh – attachment to this person, I thought you ought to know what’s on the agenda.’

  The idea of Clearwater’s body being sliced apart like the carcass of a dead buffalo turned Steve’s stomach over. ‘Does she have to die?’

  ‘Interesting question. But what alternatives are there?’

  Steve chewed his lip and decided not to volunteer an answer until Karlstrom revealed more of his hand.

  ‘All right. Let’s take this one step further – and by the way, this conversation is completely off the record –’

  ‘Of course.…’

  ‘It must be clear from your present involvement with Commander Franklynne that Clearwater’s presence is a complicating factor. And, given the choice, it’s probably one you would prefer to be without.’

  ‘I can’t deny it would make life easier, sir. But you sent me out to bring her in, and that’s what I did. As for my relationship with Commander Franklynne, I responded to an approach by her in the manner which seemed appropriate.’

  Karlstrom grinned. ‘Yehh, sure. It was an offer you couldn’t refuse.’

  ‘Given her rank and position I certainly could not have taken the initiative just as, in response to your question, it’s not my place to countermand directives issued by you.’

  Karlstrom gave one of his thin smiles. ‘Very neat, Brickman. Here you are, dying to jump in at the deep end, but still frightened of getting your feet wet. It wasn’t me who wanted Clearwater and her friends brought in, it was the President-General. I have to take orders just like you do, but for reasons we don’t need to go into, her presence here is a problem I would like to dispose of.

  ‘You’re obviously suffering from a severe attack of discretion but if it helps, you might as well know that Commander Franklynne can’t wait for the biopsy. She wants Clearwater out of the way, and I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you why.’

  ‘Does the President-General have a position on this?’

  ‘He’s been persuaded by the medics that it’s the only way to go if they want to get to the bottom of this earth-magic shit. As for me, well – a biopsy is one way of solving the problem but it leaves me with another.’

  ‘Sir …?’

  ‘You, Brickman. I’m concerned about the effect this may have on you. If they cut her up and stick the pieces in a row of jars, I don’t think you’re going to be able to live with yourself. In which case, you’re not going to be of any use to me or my organisation.’

  Steve banged some more logs in the firebox while he digested this. He flipped the door shut with the stoking iron and straightened up to meet Karlstrom’s unwavering gaze. ‘So where would that leave me?’

  Karlstrom repolished some pipe-work. ‘In Commander Franklynn’s bed. Not what I call a secure position.’ He held up a hand to quell Steve’s protest. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I gather she thinks very highly of you. You may even have worked yourself a winning ticket. But it’s only fair to warn you, she is notoriously fickle.’ He watched his words sink home. It was going better than he expected. ‘Let’s face it, Brickman. A young man with your intelligence and resource shouldn’t really allow himself to be manoeuvred into a situation where his future depends on someone’s passing passion for his dong.’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘So what’s the solution?’

  Steve knew if he wanted to be taken seriously, he couldn’t dodge the question any longer. ‘Find a way of returning her to the overground.’

  ‘Bravo! Now we’re talking.’

  ‘But once she was set free, she would pose a new threat to the Federation. Aiding and abetting her escape would be treason. A Code One offence which would be impossible to justify.’

  ‘That would depend on how you define treason, Brickman. There are offences and offences. Some of our own internal operations contravene the Federation legal codes. And I know you’re not going to try to tell me you’ve done everything by the Book.’

  Karlstrom took another look out of the window then throttled back to reduce the drumming of the wheels on the track. ‘I’m going to tell you something. And this is strictly between you and me – okay? I don’t regard Mute magic as a long-term threat to our survival. The greatest danger comes from people inside the Federation who take it seriously.’

  ‘But, sir – earth-magic is for real! I’ve seen it with my –’

&nbs
p; Karlstrom cut him short. ‘I’m not denying its existence. What I’m saying is – it’s not part of the future! It’s an aberration! Something that belongs to a distant age, way beyond what the Mutes call the Old Time, when hairy-assed apemen with inch-high foreheads and jaws like ‘dozer buckets were knocking sparks off flints to make fire.

  ‘I’ve read practically all the data COLUMBUS holds on the pre-Holocaust era. Even in the period just before America burned there were people with special gifts who were able to find water and stuff like that. But they didn’t rearrange the landscape by shouting at it – like our friend Clearwater. There was no magic then, just conjuring tricks –’

  ‘Sir …?’

  ‘Illusions, fakery, sleight-of-hand – like the guys on the mess-deck who score credits off you by moving a deck of cards around.’

  ‘Ahh, yehh, I see.’

  ‘You have to revise your whole mental approach to this,’ said Karlstrom. ‘Don’t think of these people as being "gifted", think of them as freaks, throwbacks to the time when everyone lived like the Mutes. That primitive mode of existence produces a special and very intense kind of relationship with their environment.

  ‘Make no mistake, there are dynamic forces which permeate the earth and sky. We already know what some of them are. In another thousand years we’ll probably be using them the way we use electricity now. But no one will call it magic. And there’ll be no more wordsmiths, summoners and seers.’

  ‘Why …?’

  ‘Progress.…’ Karlstrom paused to exchange waves with a group of Trackers supervising a track-maintenance detail. ‘The Plainfolk have got three ways to go. They can get wiped out, fall under our control and end up in work-camps like the Southern Mutes, or they can hold the line – keep us at bay. To have a hope of doing that, they have to make a giant leap forward. They not only have to be better armed, they have to undergo a complete change of life-style.’