Emergency Transmission

by Sean McLachlan

  “What, didn’t come into the best bar in the Burbs?” Tyler asked as David sat down next to him and clasped his hand.

  “I was, um, busy. Glad to get here now.”

  “We meet every Sunday and Tuesday,” Jaylen said. “Sundays just to shoot the shit. Today I do haircuts.”

  “And shoot the shit,” Justin added.

  David ran his hand through his hair. “I could use one. Got caught out in that rain. Hair still feels greasy.”

  “Damn, that’s bad luck,” Tyler said. “You don’t stink, though.”

  Roy laughed. “You’ll have to forgive Tyler. He doesn’t have many social graces.”

  “That’s all right,” David said with a smile. “When I beached my boat I was so weak I couldn’t even stand. Reverend Wallace hauled me out and gave me a bath and lunch. Saved my life. Then I had to save myself from Reverend Wallace.”

  “He freak out on you?” Jamal asked, looking up from the tattered old book he and Caleb were studying.

  David shook his head in wonder. “Some Chinese were playing music. He almost had a heart attack.”

  “We all almost had a heart attack when we found out they were living here,” Ethan grumbled.

  David gave him an irritated look. “I don’t have a problem with anyone. The Lord never said ‘kill the Chinese.’”

  Jamal’s eyes lit up. “A Godly man! Good to meet you. You Muslim?”

  “Christian. Known a few Muslim brothers in my time, though,” David smiled at him.

  “Nothing wrong with the Muslim brothers,” Justin said. “Can’t hang with them on a Friday night, though.”

  Jamal grinned at David. “You just missed it. Justin just came down from the roof. Roy told him that drinks were on the house!”

  Everyone laughed, even Justin. David turned to Jaylen. “What you trade for a haircut?”

  Jaylen moved over to his barber’s chair. “Trade whatever you want for this first one. Got to tell you, though, that you’re not allowed to trade before meeting with The Doctor. One of those rules they got. They want dibs on anything good. He looks the other way for little stuff, though. When people come to town they often trade with someone to guard their stuff or to get a good meal. He doesn’t care about that so he won’t care about this.”

  David looked worried. “Speaking of, I left my boat on the south beach. Reverend Wallace said he’d send someone to watch it but I think that offer’s been revoked.”

  Tyler got up. “I gotta get going anyway. I’ll send one of my kids to watch it until you get back.”

  “Thanks, man, that’s real nice of you.”

  “You home now, brother,” Tyler said, clasping his hand.

  David struggled out of his seat and moved over to the barber’s chair. Once again Roy noticed how exhausted he looked. If he had sailed through that gunk outside it was a miracle he could still stand, bath or no bath. Didn’t look like a fisherman, though. And if he was a scavenger, he was the best-armed scavenger he’d ever seen.

  Best watch this one, Roy thought. Better tell Annette too.

  David slumped into the barber’s chair. Jaylen put a blanket over his chest and tied it around his neck, then placed his hands on David’s shoulders. “So what you want, my man? Anything you want but it’s gotta be natural. I don’t do no conk, I don’t do no quiff, and I sure as fuck don’t do no Jheri curl.”

  “What’s a Jheri curl?”

  “An embarrassing chapter in the history of an otherwise proud people. Best to leave it buried. I can do any style Afro or fade you like, or shave it off.”

  Jaylen held up a mirror so David could see himself. The newcomer picked at his hair and chuckled. “Anything would be better than this nappy-assed mess. Shave it off.”

  “Going clean!” Roy chuckled.

  David’s face darkened for a moment before he controlled himself. If Roy hadn’t had such a sharp eye for people he’d have missed it.

  “Yeah, clean is what I need,” David said in a low voice.

  Definitely watch this one.

  Jaylen got to work with a pair of scissors. David could barely keep his eyes open.

  “So what brings you to town?” Roy asked.

  “Been scavenging down south, but there’s some crazy cult moving through the region, eating up everything.”

  “We met them,” Roy nodded.

  “And blasted them back into the wildlands,” Jaylen said. “Roy here brews his own, and he brewed up some pure grain alcohol and made firebombs. Burned a whole bunch of them.”

  “I see,” David said quietly.

  Once Jaylen got David’s hair cut down to stubble, he soaped up David’s head and went to work with a straight razor.

  “Yes, Roy was the hero of the hour. Me, I’m too old to fight. I helped with the wounded. You know barbers used to be surgeons back in the olden days?”

  “I’ll just take a haircut if you don’t mind,” David replied.

  Jaylen chuckled.

  “Oh, if you’d been lying in the clinic with a bullet in your gut you’d have spoken to me differently. I know first aid, learned it from The Doctor himself.”

  “Oh yeah? What kind of a man is he?”

  “Well, if you ask five brothers that question you’ll get eight opinions. The consensus is that he means well even when he’s screwing things up. How much he’s screwing things up depends on your point of view. Personally I think the man is doing the best he can in a bad situation.”

  “He treats us OK?” David asked.

  “Treats everyone equal, at least under the law. Can’t stop the usual bullshit, though. Probably doesn’t even see it.”

  “Of course he don’t see it!” Ethan said. “He’s always hiding in that old warehouse. Never comes out except to trade or to cut off the lights.”

  “Cut off the lights?” David asked.

  Ethan made a face. “When the Chinese came out and showed us they had been living here all this time, a bunch of people rioted. A couple of the Chinese got killed, bunch of houses trashed. The Doctor got so mad he cut off electricity to the Burbs until restitution was paid.”

  “And it was a good thing he did too,” Roy said.

  “Now that’s where you’re wrong,” Ethan replied. “It’s collective punishment. Not everyone rioted, just some people, so why punish all of us?”

  “Because he had no way to pick out who was guilty and who was innocent,” Roy insisted.

  “So he just punishes everybody?” Ethan sneered. “That’s history repeating itself right there, brother.”

  “The community sinned,” David said in a calm, weary voice, “and therefore the community has to be punished. The next step is for the community to heal.”

  Everyone looked at him.

  “And how the fuck are we supposed to do that?” Ethan asked.

  “By embracing our former enemies and making peace with them.”

  “The man’s talking sense,” Jaylen said. “I won’t give him good odds that he’ll be listened to.”

  “That Chinese party the Reverend told me about will be a good start,” David said.

  “I’m hosting that,” Roy said proudly.

  “Good for you. I’ll be sure to come.”

  Jaylen brushed away the last hair, whisked off the blanket, and held up the mirror for David to see himself.

  “You look like a completely different man,” Jaylen said.

  “Yeah,” David replied, obviously pleased. “Thanks, I needed that.”

  Jaylen went over to a nearby chair and sat down heavily.

  “There was a time when I could cut ten heads of hair in a row without having to take a breather,” he sighed.

  “There was a time when we thought we knew who our neighbors were,” Ethan said.

  “Now don’t go starting that again,” Roy said.

  Ethan raised his hands. “I’m not saying people should have rioted, and you know I was against what they did to your prayer hall, Jamal. I helped clean up, didn’t I? It’s just that they
can’t expect us to trust them when they’ve been lying to us all this time.”

  “You can’t expect them to trust us after trashing their houses and stealing all their stuff,” Roy said. Why the hell did he even have to explain this?

  “Wait, what happened?” David asked, coming out of a doze.

  “Didn’t you hear what we just said?” Jamal asked. “When that Chinese freighter came and it turned out we had some Chinese living here, a bunch of people went crazy and decided to have themselves a lynching.”

  “Of us?” David asked.

  “No, of the Chinese.”

  “Oh.”

  “But there weren’t enough of them,” Jamal said, “So a bunch of other homes got robbed, and some clowns broke into the Muslim prayer room and took a dump on our rugs.”

  David only shook his head.

  Ethan cut in. “Like I said, that was bad. Shouldn’t have happened. But now we’re supposed to trust them? We got to be careful to keep what we have.”

  Jamal gave him an annoyed glance. “I’m not worried about the Chinese. I’m worried about the weather. What if these rains keep up until spring? The harvest will be even worse than the last one!”

  “Less wheat and hops to use in my stills,” Roy said. “Maybe I’ll have to teach myself to make sake.”

  “What’s that?” Jamal asked.

  “Rice wine.”

  Ethan snorted. “Why you talking about booze at a time like this? We have another thin harvest and food’s going to be short. Even if we get more rice from the ship there’ll be no spare biofuel. How am I going to get my irrigation canal dug?”

  “We’ve had toxic squalls before. Once whatever it is out there drains itself out, it will get better,” Roy said. He’d said that at the bar a lot lately.

  “Yeah, but how long will that take? This seems bigger, and with a stormy winter we’re getting a ton of it,” Ethan said. “And you know when the winter is rough we get lots of storms in spring too. What if the dump or whatever it is decides to keep on draining?”

  “Nah, it will drain out. I’ve seen plenty of these before,” Roy said. It was true, and the worst ones had led to some pretty thin times.

  “I’m telling you this one feels bigger,” Ethan said.

  “I don’t know about that,” Jamal said. “We just got to pray it stops.”

  Ethan snorted again. Roy scowled at him. That punk was too negative. Negativity never led anyone anywhere.

  “What you think, my man?” Roy asked, turning to David.

  The newcomer didn’t respond. He was sound asleep in Jaylen’s chair.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  By the time the storm had abated everyone felt almost as bad off as the man they had helped. Their skin itched at the hems of their suits, and any exposed skin felt oily and vile. A couple of the men retched over the side.

  Yu-jin clambered over all the gear and extended legs to get to the front of the boat.

  “We almost there?” Yu-jin asked Rachel.

  “Another hour or so.”

  Yu-jin sat down next to Clyde.

  “Another hour.”

  “Good, I’ve had just about all I want of this. I hope that guy weathered the storm OK.”

  Yu-jin was about to snap back at him that he would have weathered the storm a lot better if they had helped him to shore, but she controlled herself. There was no point in arguing and while she disagreed with him, she could understand his position.

  “The freighter has an air filtration system,” she said. “It worked well when we were in Toxic Bay. I hope it’s working now.”

  “You and me both, but I’m more worried about their firepower.”

  “We’re not at war.”

  “Everyone is always at war. An Old Times military writer once said that diplomacy was just a period of rest between wars.”

  “And look where that kind of thinking got them. Hating the Chinese isn’t going to make the world a better place.”

  Clyde rounded on her.

  “I don’t hate the Chinese. I don’t hate anybody. I’m scared of the Chinese. They got more power than we do. They got a smelter and folks who can refit a freighter. They got a goddam city state over there. Maybe more than one! Who knows what else they’re hiding. You know, I’ve had my team scanning the airwaves for years, and never heard anything coming over skip. Nothing. For a while I thought we were all that was left, but then I got to thinking, what if the whole world was still keeping radio silence?”

  “But New City wasn’t.”

  “No, and when Weissman set up New City Radio I warned against it. Fought it in the council. I wanted it to be FM, not AM. Only line of sight and no skip. No chance of outside powers hearing us. But no, they wanted longer range, draw in more scavengers from the wildlands. At least I got their wattage limited. Doc saw the sense in that.”

  “And what about Radio Hope? They broadcast all over.”

  Clyde smiled so broadly Yu-jin could see it even through his gas mask. “They do what they do and I wouldn’t stop them even if I could. I’m glad I can’t. That’s a tight game they’re running. A hell of an operation.”

  “Who do you think they are? Out in the wildlands there are ton of crazy stories, but nobody really knows anything.”

  Clyde shrugged. “Neither do I, and trust me I have been trying to find out. There’s just no intel on that.”

  Yu-jin looked out to sea and wondered. Even the most traveled scavengers she’d ever met, those who had been up to the ruined industrial cities of the north, or the vast plains to the east or badlands to the south, all had said that the station came in loud and clear no matter where they were. From the little she knew about radio, that meant they had set up a whole network of repeating towers to boost the signal. That meant they had resources and an organization to rival New City itself, but secret, hidden away, existing for everyone’s benefit instead of only its own.

  That made Yu-jin feel good. It made everyone feel good. The fact that there was still charity in the world. It was the same thing that made people follow Reginald—he gave free medicine. He gave selfless leadership too. Even his detractors admitted that he worked for the greater good.

  And where was she in all this? That remained a mystery to her. While many citizens resented or mistrusted her, everyone was beginning to adapt themselves to the fact that she had influence. Yu-jin herself hadn’t fully adjusted to that fact. Unlike Clyde or Marcus she couldn’t give orders, only suggestions, and yet at times it felt like she had more influence than all those old men Reginald surrounded himself with.

  Like everyone else, she wondered how she had suddenly become so important to Reginald. The Doctor had always been aloof, one of those men with a few trusted advisors and no peers. She supposed he needed to be that way. He also needed to be told when he was being too pig-headed. Somehow she had taken on that role without having her head bitten off.

  The loud braying of a ship’s horn startled Yu-jin out of her thoughts. She perked up and looked ahead. The freighter stood off in the distance. No smoke rose from its stacks.

  Rachel slowed down as they drew near. A collapsible staircase that Rachel called a “gangway” was lowered along the side of the ship. A sailor came to the bottom and took the line Rachel cast him.

  “I say we leave our weapons here,” Yu-jin said.

  “Not a chance,” Clyde replied.

  “Bad idea,” one of Reginald’s guards agreed.

  “They’re not hostile! Bringing guns will only raise tensions.”

  “No, it will cool tensions. They’ll realize they wouldn’t get us without a fight and so there’s less chance they’ll try,” Clyde said.

  Yu-jin turned to Reginald’s guard but the man only shrugged.

  “We don’t know these people. It’s best to be cautious,” he said.

  Yu-jin growled in frustration and stepped off the boat, ignoring the Chinese sailor’s offer of a hand and nearly falling into the water before she righted herself. She hurried up t
he gangway, watching her step because some of the treads had almost rotted through with age. As she stepped onto the deck, Captain Wang took off his gas mask as a sign of respect. She took a deep breath and followed suit. Hong-gi, Pablo’s friend, stood next to him. Yu-jin smiled when she saw he wore a miniature captain’s uniform.

  Flanking them were several sailors with Kalashnikovs. They noticeably tensed as the guards came up. The New City men spread out. Captain Wang turned to Yu-jin.

  “It is good to see you again and I thank you for coming to our aid. Will the soldiers of New City like to have some refreshments brought to them or would they prefer to come inside with us? Their weapons will be kept dry while they do.”

  Yu-jin translated this, adding, “I’m going in with Rachel. I don’t feel like breathing this air any more than I have to.”

  “We shouldn’t give up our firearms,” Clyde said.

  “You don’t need to if you stay out here,” she replied with a smile.

  “You need somebody watching you, I mean watching out for you.”

  This guy’s plainspoken even when he’s trying not to be.

  “Your choice,” she said.

  Clyde and his guards huddled, while Reginald’s guards made a separate huddle. The Chinese waited patiently. Captain Wang put his gas mask back on, signaling that everyone else could do so. Yu-jin replaced her own with relief. Her nostrils already felt like they were on fire. Rachel busied herself by hauling equipment on board.

  By the time Rachel had brought up a heavy duty welder, a can of oil and another of grease, plus two tool boxes, the guards had finally come to a decision.

  “One of each of us will go with you and the rest of us will stay here.”

  “If that’s what makes you happy.”

  Captain Wang led them through a metal door that opened and closed with a strange handle that looked like the steering wheel of the motorboat. They entered a short hallway that ended in an identical door that remained closed. A fan blew somewhere, and after a minute everyone removed their masks. Yu-jin took a deep breath. The air was dank, smelled of oiled metal, but was clean.

  “Our filtration system works off the electrical grid,” Captain Wang explained. “The ship’s batteries are, of course, powered by the engine. We have enough battery power to sustain us another twelve hours before we have to ration.”