A Hole in the Sky

by William C. Dietz

  The wedding took place a week later. The location was the whitewashed church on the main square. It was a mostly happy occasion. Although it was cold, and people were on edge because two Ravagers and fifteen Hybrids had passed through town earlier in the day.

  It wasn’t the first time such a thing had occurred, and the tunnels were sufficiently deep that the people moving back and forth in them couldn’t be spotted with an Auger. But such visitations were worrisome nevertheless. So Capelli and Susan suggested that the ceremony be held underground.

  But the mayor wasn’t having any of that. “We aren’t worms,” she proclaimed. “Weddings should be held in a church.” Therefore it was agreed that while the nuptials would take place in the church, the ceremony would be kept brief in order to minimize the potential danger, and in recognition of how cold it was. A decision that Capelli and Susan understood and endorsed.

  And so it was that as people gathered in the church, Tig Kosmo threw a security screen around the town, and a warmly dressed Reverend Rawlings began what promised to be a very short ceremony. In spite of the cold air, Capelli was dressed in a shabby tuxedo and Susan was resplendent in the white wedding dress that one of the women had loaned to her.

  That’s where Capelli’s attention was, or should have been, but something was wrong. Not with the wedding, but with Rowdy, who was standing stiff-legged a few feet from the altar staring back at the front door. And there was no mistaking the growl that rumbled deep in his throat. So Capelli looked in that direction, saw the air shimmer, and made a grab for the Colt Commander that was holstered under his left arm.

  The onlookers produced a gasp of surprise as he jerked the pistol out into the open. It was pointed at Susan until he turned and fired three times in quick succession. The nine-millimeter slugs brought the charging Chameleon down. The monstrous creature became visible as it died, so the townspeople could see the Chimeran field generator strapped to its back, and the long curved claws for which such beasts were known.

  But even as the well-wishers tried to absorb this, Capelli fired again and a second stink fell not two feet from the first. It was second nature for Capelli to eject the partially used magazine, and insert a new one in its place, as members of the embarrassed security force entered the church, their heads swiveling back and forth.

  There was a moment of silence. Terri was first to speak. Her breath fogged the air. “It was a trick,” she said thoughtfully. “The stinks left two Chameleons behind to kill anybody who came out of hiding after they were gone. Thank God for Rowdy.” The dog, who was oblivious to that sort of praise, continued to lick himself.

  Capelli returned the Colt to its holster. “Sorry about that, Reverend! Where were we?”

  The minister’s face was ashen, and the hands that cradled the Bible began to tremble. “Do you, Susan Farley, take this man to be your husband?”

  Susan smiled serenely. “I do.”

  “Give her the ring,” Rawlings instructed. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” And with that, the minister hurried away. It was December 25, 1953, and the best Christmas Capelli could remember.

  You don’t deserve her, the voice inside Capelli’s head observed. But welcome to the family.

  It had been raining for two days when Tom Hunter and a force of twenty regulators closed in on the town of Haven. They wore cowboy hats of various hues and long oilskin dusters, split so as to hang down along both flanks of their well-groomed horses. All of them carried arms and ammo made at Shipdown and Tunnel-Through. A policy calculated to simplify training, logistics, and repair.

  And making the regulators even more dangerous was the fact that one of them was armed with a pulse cannon, two men were equipped with Chimeran field generators, and four carried Ravager-style energy shields. They could not only take on a Chimeran hunter-killer team if forced to do so, but had the capacity to subdue most of the communities within a fifty-mile radius of Tunnel-Through.

  But that wasn’t Hunter’s mission. He had been sent into the countryside to persuade the communities to join what Ramsey called the New American Empire. Because, as the judge liked to put it, “The smart ones will take one look at our regulators, realize that we could wipe them out if we chose to, and join up. We’ll deal with the stupid ones later.”

  The plan made sense, and as the regulators thundered into Haven, they had already brought two isolated groups of survivors into the fold. And Hunter saw no reason why the community of Haven would be any different. Though hidden from the Chimera, the town was well known to the locals.

  Horses snorted and their hooves clattered as the riders brought their mounts to an intentionally showy halt. With the exception of a few men who had been ordered to keep their weapons ready, the rest of the regulators sat with their hands on their pommels. Details that Hunter knew the citizens of Haven would take note of.

  The town was deserted, or so it seemed as a steady drizzle fell, and water dripped from the brim of Hunter’s hat. But he knew eyes were on him as he lifted the bullhorn that hung from his saddle and spoke into it. “Citizens of Haven! I know you’re out there—and I know you can hear me. My name is Tom Hunter. I was sent by Tunnel-Through’s founder, Judge George Ramsey, to deliver a very special invitation.”

  A good ten minutes of silence followed. But Hunter understood. The regulators had taken the community by surprise, and there was a need to confer before a response was forthcoming. But eventually the front door of what had clearly been a bank opened and four people emerged.

  The delegation included an old man and a middle-aged woman, both of whom were sharing a large umbrella. Two bodyguards brought up the rear. One was bare-headed in spite of the rain and armed with a V7 Splicer. The other wore a knit cap pulled down over his ears and was carrying what Hunter recognized as an HVAP Wraith minigun. And judging from the way he held it, the man with the cap knew what he was doing.

  Both weapons had clearly been chosen because of the horrific damage they could inflict on the tightly massed regulators. Suddenly, Hunter wondered if the show of force had been a good idea. But it was too late to redeploy his men, so all he could do was put a good face on things. “Good morning,” Hunter said, raising a hand to touch the brim of his hat. “Like I said earlier, my name is Tom Hunter.”

  “I’m Terri Locke,” the woman replied, as she looked up at the man who loomed over her. “The man on my right is Mr. Potter. I’m the mayor and he’s a member of the city council.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Hunter said. “I don’t like having guns aimed at me. Please tell your bodyguards to point those weapons somewhere else.”

  “And we don’t like uninvited guests,” Terri replied grimly. “Order your men to pull out—and I’ll tell my men to lower their weapons.”

  Hunter wasn’t used to push-back and didn’t like it. But his orders were clear: Bring people into the empire peacefully if possible. He forced a smile. “Have it your way. Who knows? Maybe we’ll be on the same side soon. Judge Ramsey is trying to unite all of the local communities under a single government. He calls it the New American Empire.”

  “Why?” Terri inquired suspiciously. “So he can run everything?”

  “No,” Hunter replied patiently. “So we can fight the stinks more effectively and take our country back.”

  “That’s what the federal government is for.”

  “Really?” Hunter said sarcastically. “What has the federal government done for you lately? More than that, where the hell are they?

  “Whereas we’re right here. And we can offer you and your citizens more protection than you can provide for yourselves, health care from a real doctor, and vaccinations against the Chimeran virus.”

  Hunter saw the look on Terri’s face and nodded. “You heard correctly. I’ve been vaccinated and so have my men. So if a Spinner bites one of us we won’t turn. Nor will our families. And that’s a powerful incentive to join up. What do you say?”

  “That’s a wonderful development if tru
e,” Terri replied. “But a decision to place Haven under Judge Ramsey’s leadership and control is no small thing. Especially in light of the fact that one of our residents used to live in Tunnel-Through—and he paints a rather bleak picture of life there. In any case, I will have to discuss this matter with my constituents.”

  “Who have you got?” Hunter demanded confrontationally. “Mathers? Shaw? Both of them are liars. But if you want more information, then send someone to talk the situation over with the judge. But don’t take too long. Other communities are joining up—and you wouldn’t want to be left out.”

  With that, Hunter jerked his mount’s head around and sent the beast galloping out of town. The rest of the regulators followed suit. Half a dozen piles of steaming manure marked where they had been gathered.

  Once the last rider had disappeared from sight, Kosmo turned to Capelli. “Well, doggie! That was fun, wasn’t it? By the way, it’s a good thing we didn’t have to open up on the bastards, because the HVAP doesn’t work.”

  Capelli looked down at the Wraith and back up again. “You’re joking.”

  “Nope,” Kosmo said matter-of-factly. “Wraith parts are real hard to come by.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I figured it might have a negative impact on your morale.”

  “You’re a rotten sonofabitch … You know that?”

  Kosmo grinned agreeably. “That’s what they tell me. Let’s go. I’m getting wet.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  STARS AND STRIPES

  Saturday, November 28, 1953

  Freedom Base Two, Ouachita National Forest, Arkansas

  Construction of the Blakely Dam in the Ouachita National Forest had begun in 1948 and ended when the Chimera invaded North America and it became necessary to divert raw materials like steel and concrete into the war effort. But a significant amount of work had already been accomplished. The wedge-shaped dam was 231 feet high and more than a thousand feet wide. Two turbines had been installed but never brought online. Still, since it had a small auxiliary generator, the facility had enough power to meet its own needs. Something the humans who lived deep inside the dam were careful to conceal. The thickness of the steel-reinforced concrete all around him made President Thomas Voss feel that he and his staff were reasonably safe from detection as he clattered down a flight of metal stairs and arrived on the level below.

  Pools of light led him between desks towards the glassed-in area that had originally been designed to function as the dam’s control room, but was now generally referred to as “the think tank.” Meaning the enclosure in which most of the presidential decisions were made.

  A great deal had been accomplished since the harrowing journey south from Freedom Base One. Not only had the government reestablished itself deep within the dam, the vaccine production program had been restored and improved. Pack trains loaded with vaccine, and accompanied by federal marshals, were making their way out to communities throughout the southeast. That meant Voss was not only building political support but a healthy virus-resistant population from which an army could be recruited.

  Of course, Voss still had the never-ending threat of the Chimera to contend with, as well as human predators like Judge Ramsey, the man responsible for the destruction of Freedom Base One and the deaths of thirty-six federal employees. Voss was determined to punish that outrage both as a way to prevent future attacks and as an example to others.

  Which was why Cassie Aklin, Marvin Kawecki, and a civilian scout named Calvin Rawlings had been summoned to the think tank for an early-morning conference. A pot of coffee was sitting on a warmer and a buffet-style breakfast consisting of Spam, pancakes, and fresh berries was available. Voss rarely took time off to eat, so such meals were common.

  There were greetings all around as the President loaded a plate with food and Aklin poured him a cup of coffee. After taking his place at the long, narrow table, Voss opened the meeting.

  “Okay, you know the score. Monica Shaw was forced to work for this Ramsey character—and that’s how his people knew when and where to attack.

  “And, based on what Shaw told me before she was killed, Ramsey is a lot more than a bandit. It’s his intention to destroy the federal government so that he can replace it with one of his own. So now that we’re up and running again it’s time for some payback. We know roughly where Ramsey is, so I’m sending Kawecki up to resolve the situation. Rawlings, you know the area between here and there; I’m counting on you to get our people through.”

  Rawlings had shoulder-length hair, a high forehead, and a hooked nose. He nodded solemnly.

  Kawecki frowned and put his fork down. “No offense, Mr. President, but you must be joking. We estimate that Ramsey has hundreds of armed regulators. How am I supposed to take them on with a dozen men?”

  Voss finished chewing and swallowed. “You’re a captain in the United States Army! That means you can accomplish the impossible.”

  Kawecki produced a snort of derision. “Thanks. We’ll be lucky if we get there—never mind the rest of it.”

  Voss grinned. “Don’t be such a pessimist. Let’s plan for success rather than failure. And that brings us to the following problem: If—no when—you kill Ramsey, it will result in a power vacuum. So, unless we want to run the risk that someone even worse will be sucked in to replace him, it will be necessary to establish an entity that’s loyal to the real government. Which is to say us.”

  “Oh, great,” Kawecki responded sarcastically. “Is there anything else, Mr. President? Should I make all the Chimera disappear while I’m at it?”

  Voss blew steam off the surface of his coffee. “Yes,” he replied evenly. “That would be nice.”

  Kawecki, Rawlings, and a force of twelve men left that night. They were on foot. But with the aid of sturdy mules, they weren’t required to carry anything other than their weapons, ammo, and some emergency gear. That allowed them to move quickly.

  Of course the animals had their drawbacks, too. The mules were hard to conceal, had to be fed, and could be obstinate at times. But Kawecki figured the tradeoff would be worth it if he could keep his men fresh, carry a larger payload, and reach his destination quickly.

  They traveled at night, with Rawlings scouting a mile or so ahead. Doing so was colder, but safer, and safety had priority. The civilian had a radio, which he used to guide the soldiers around obstacles. The route was a zigzag affair that followed secondary roads in a generally northwesterly direction. They passed through dozens of devastated hamlets, circled two Chimeran bases, and were forced to cope with Leapers, Grims, and a pack of feral dogs along the way. The dogs had been brazen enough to attack one of the mules in broad daylight before being wiped out. But it wasn’t until day four, when they were almost halfway to their destination, that the team ran into what Rawlings described as “a major freak show.”

  It was about two in the morning when Kawecki ordered the men to hobble the mules and set them free to graze in an overgrown field while he and Sergeant Pasco went forward to meet Rawlings. As they closed in on the rendezvous, a glow appeared up ahead. The dark bulk of a hill prevented them from seeing the source of the light as the scout materialized out of the gloom. “Follow me,” the civilian said. “You won’t believe this.”

  As Kawecki and Pasco followed Rawlings up a winding dirt road the glow grew brighter. Then, having arrived near the top of the hill, they dropped flat and crawled the last few yards. And what Kawecki saw at that point was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

  Stretched out in front of him was what looked like a football-field-sized sheet of glass. Except having been exposed to a lot of Chimeran tech, he suspected that the object was made of something akin to plastic.

  Even so, the roof clearly weighed hundreds of tons and was held up off the ground by six iridescent pillars. Based on previous experience, Kawecki knew the supports were beams of coherent energy similar to those the stinks used for a wide variety of purposes. Some of the light was
coming from the columns. Pole-mounted spots were responsible for the rest. Taken together, they illuminated the conical structures visible under the see-through lid.

  They were pods. Thousands of pods. All planted in neat rows like a crop of vegetables and protected from the weather by the roof that floated above them. Could the plastic be darkened during the day? To shield the cocoons from the sun in the summer? Kawecki thought such a thing was possible.

  “Look!” Pasco said from a position near the officer’s right elbow. “Titans!”

  Kawecki saw that the noncom was correct. Two of the giants were patrolling the perimeter of the pod farm with cannons at the ready. That was interesting, but the real question was why? Did the hive-mind need more stinks to do its bidding? And if so, what did it plan to do with them? There was no way to know.

  “Now that you’ve seen the freak show, let’s get out of here,” Rawlings said from his position off to the left. “I think it would be a good idea to swing west before heading north again.”

  Kawecki shook his head. “Nope. There’s no way we can leave this place operational. Besides … those are people down there. Or they were. Every single one of us has been forced to bypass pods at one time or another. But not thousands of them. No, we’re going to put those folks out of their misery, and keep the total number of stinks down at the same time. The only question is how?”

  Rawlings looked at Kawecki askance. “You must be joking. I didn’t sign up for anything like this.”

  “I’m not joking,” Kawecki replied calmly, “and you’ll do whatever I say. Isn’t that right, Sergeant Pasco?”

  Pasco grinned wickedly. He had brown skin and his teeth were very white. “That’s right, sir. Mr. Rawlings will do whatever you say.”

  “I thought so,” Kawecki said evenly. “Come on! Let’s get out of here. We have some planning to do.”