by John Purcell
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I wasn’t prepared for the scale of the inner chamber or the statue it housed. Immense marble columns supported the ceiling, which was so high that the Glorblight scarcely touched it. President Lincoln was seated against the far wall, his armchair resting on an enormous pedestal. I approached the statue cautiously, feeling smaller with every step. He could have scooped me up in the palm of his hand.
Lincoln was dressed in a long overcoat and seemed to be wearing some sort of frilly scarf. Above that was nothing at all. His head had been lopped off cleanly at the neck.
I reached the foot of the statue and stopped. There was no sign of Cassius, hologram or otherwise.
And then a head faded into view, hovering above Lincoln’s neck, perfectly in scale. The face was undoubtedly Negro, as Lewis had claimed. It was solemn and moon-shaped, and its eyes were alive with a fierce intelligence. Its brown skin contrasted sharply with the white marble around it.
Cassius gazed down at me and his face lit up in a smile. His voice had a gentle rasp to it. “Hello, Teo. How wonderful to see you, at long last.”
“You were expecting us.”
“Yes.”
“How did you know we were coming?”
“I’ve heard how inquisitive you are, Teo, but our time is short. I can only tell you what you need to know. Be quiet and listen.”
I waited.
“Dogan’s father is in Baltimore, in the dungeons of the Bank of America building. The GR shipped him there from the Arctic, to be used in Queen Scarlett’s experiments. Geff has a map for you. There are many routes to Baltimore, but it makes little difference which you choose. Scarlett will know you’re coming and she will bring the fight to you. Never let down your guard for an instant. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Now, Teo, remember this, above all else. It’s necessary to find Dogan’s father, but your true purpose—the purpose for which you were created—is entirely different. I will reveal more upon your return. Goodbye, Teo, and good luck.”
I turned to go.
“One last thing.”
I turned back.
“Gutenberg gave you a message for me. What was it?”
“Anger cubed needs hope.”
“Anger cubed needs hope. Thank you. Please send Dogan in.”
The Three watched me make my way back down the long staircase, waiting expectantly.
As I drew near, Luma said, “Well, what did he say? Does he know where Dogan’s father is?”
“I’m sorry, Luma. I think we should wait until everyone’s gone in before we talk.”
Dogan looked anxious. “Okay, but does he know?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. He wants to see you next.”
“Me? Why me? Why can’t Luma go next?”
“He asked for you. What’s the problem?”
“It looks dark in there. Is it pretty dark? I mean, inside?”
Luma said, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark!”
“I’m not afraid of the dark, I just don’t like it very much. At all.”
I said, “There are Glorbs in there, Dogan. You’ll be fine. Go on, Cassius is waiting.”
Dogan started reluctantly up the steps.
Luma turned to me. “Can’t you at least tell me what Cassius looks like?”
It wasn’t an easy question to answer. I had to explain both holograms and Abraham Lincoln.
When I’d finished, Luma said. “So he’s not even a real person? He’s just this talking head on a broken statue?”
“More or less.”
“That’s just really, really weird, even for out here.”
“I can’t argue with that, but he seemed very real to me, in spite of it.”
Dogan was making his way down the steps, looking dazed.
He walked up to Luma. “You’re next.”
She couldn’t contain herself. “Did he tell you where your father is?”
Dogan grimaced. “He told me not to say anything.”
He wandered over to an armchair and dropped into it.
Luma gave a shrug, then hurried away, up the staircase.
I turned to Bim. “Does Cassius usually swear people to secrecy?”
“There are other cases I know of. He certainly did with Miss Green.”
“I can understand the reasons for that. But why Dogan?”
“There’s not much point in guessing at his motives, Teo. Cassius dispenses information, not explanations. There’s no way to know what he‘s thinking.”
“He said he could only tell me what I needed to know.”
“That’s what he says to everyone. You can’t second-guess him. If he doesn’t want certain people comparing notes, you have to assume he has good reason.”
“You have to take it on faith.”
“Basically.”
“And everyone really trusts him that much?”
“Teo, this is the man who provides everyone Outside with food and water and medicine and asks nothing in return.”
“How could one man possibly do all that? Who is he? Where is he?”
“That’s what the GR would dearly like to know. They can’t even take down his hologram, let alone find him. The encryption is too sophisticated.”
“So they’ve given up?”
“They’ll never give up. They don’t really care that he’s keeping everyone alive. What haunts them is the possibility that he might be one of their own.”
“You mean someone working within the GR?”
Bim nodded. “It’s the only theory that really makes sense. Whoever Cassius is, he has tremendous resources at his disposal, and complete access to the DataStream. He’s able to pilfer scientific and medical equipment directly from the rail lines. And he’s been doing it for a long, long time.”
“How long?”
“He first appeared during the Great Starvation.”
“100 years ago? Then he can’t even be a single individual.”
“That’s right. The original Cassius must have found a successor to carry on his work after his death.”
Just then, Luma reappeared. She descended the steps slowly, scowling. As she approached, I said, “Are you all right?”
She walked right past us. “I’m not allowed to talk about it.”
There was an armchair next to Dogan’s. She plunked herself into it.
Bim said, “I guess it’s my turn.”
Throughout our comings and goings, Geff and Daniel had stayed in place, off to the side, waiting. I went over to speak with Geff, only to discover his eyes closed.
I spoke softly to Daniel. “Is Geff asleep?”
“Yes. He naps throughout the day. He’s in constant pain.”
“Cassius said he had something for us.”
“Yes, a map. It’s right here.”
There was a bag hanging from the back of the wheelchair. Daniel reached in and withdrew a roll of paper. He handed it to me, saying, “Here you are.”
“Thank you. May I ask you a question?”
“If you wish.”
“I hope it won’t offend you.”
“That isn’t possible.”
“You look like a Menial but you don’t speak like one, and you’re obviously much smarter. Why is that?”
“MediTrons are not Menials. Our job requires greater intelligence. Our tasks can be complex and mistakes are unacceptable.”
“You must have very advanced circuitry.”
“All MediTrons were designed and built by Joseph Clay.”
At the sound of this, my thoughts flew off in all directions. Before I could come up with a response, Bim appeared at my side.
He said, “We should have our talk now.”
Bim and I sat down on a sofa opposite Luma and Dogan, who were still looking glum.
; I said, “I know Cassius told you not to repeat anything, but I think we can compare notes without breaking any promises. Just nod if I’m right, okay? He told everyone Dogan’s father is in Baltimore, in the dungeons of the Bank of America building. Right?”
The Three nodded.
“He expects me to go rescue him somehow. Does he expect all of you to come with me?”
They nodded again.
“Is everyone willing to go?”
This time they hesitated, exchanging glances. Then they nodded once more.
“All right, then. Bim, how far is it to Baltimore?”
“About forty miles.”
“So basically we’d need a day to get there on foot.”
“It would actually be faster to walk back to the lifeboat and travel by water.”
“What if the lifeboat’s gone?”
“That seems very unlikely. How many people—”
Luma broke in. “I hate to interrupt all the muttering but why don’t we just ask Humphrey for a ride?”
I looked at Bim.
He said, “That’s a very good idea.”
I repeated Bim’s words.
Luma brightened a little. “Thanks. Now all we have to do is find him.”
I said, “We’d better start looking. If he can’t take us, we’ll have to find another way to get there.”
Luma said, “I bet Geff knows where to find him.”
I looked over at Geff and saw that his eyes were open again. I got up and went to talk to him.
As I approached, he said, “Has everyone been in to see Cassius?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“We need to find Humphrey, actually. Do you happen to know where he is?”
“I have an educated guess. Why don’t Daniel and I walk you down to the White House? If he isn’t there now, he’ll be there soon.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s Saturday. Tonight’s the dance, and Humphrey will be hauling in food from the Fruitlands.”
“The Fruitlands?”
“The place where we grow all our food. It’s the only spot in DC that gets any rain. You can see it from here if you look carefully.”
Foolishly, I waited for Geff to raise his arm and point.
“Teo, Daniel does all my pointing…”
Daniel was pointing to the roof of the Dome, far in the distance, to a spot where daylight was streaming in.
“That’s where UNK/C cut through. A nice, tidy circle about a quarter mile in diameter.”
“During the Invasion?”
“The very first day. Sort of a cosmic punch line to the Savage administration.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve never heard the tale of Trip’s Last Stand?’”
“No.”
“Then you can hear it en route.”
“Great. Just let me tell my friends.”
As I turned to go, a boy of about twelve, with dark brown skin, came hurrying up to Geff. Boys and girls of all sizes and colors were following behind him.
The boy gave Geff a friendly punch in the arm. “Hey, Geff, what’s happening?”
“Just vegging out. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. Simon, Teo. Teo, Simon.”
Simon said hi and introduced the rest of the kids as they gathered around. I gave a little wave and they waved back.
Geff said, “How goes the great hunt?”
Simon said, “We were doing fine but now we’re stuck. Is Della in her trailer?”
“No such luck. She shoved off this morning for Gettysburg.”
“Do you think she’d mind if we went in and looked around? She always helps us out.”
“What are you looking for, exactly?”
Simon glanced at the paper in his hand. “We need an umbrella and a flashlight.”
“She always takes her umbrella and the flashlight’s hopeless. If I were you, I wouldn’t risk getting on her bad side.”
Simon nodded in agreement, disappointed.
I said, “Maybe my friends can help you out. Dogan has an umbrella and Luma has a flashlight.”
Simon's eyes widened. “Really? You’re serious?”
“Yes. What do you need them for?”
He looked surprised. “For the scavenger hunt.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s a game. We play it every Saturday. The first team to collect everything on the list wins.”
“I see.”
“If your friends help us out, we’ll be first for sure.”
“If they help, will you let them join your team?”
“Of course!”
The Three were looking in our direction. I pointed them out by name. “That’s Luma, that’s Dogan, and that’s Bim. Bim can’t talk, but he’s very smart. Please don’t make fun of him.”
Simon looked shocked. “Make fun of him? Why would we do that?”
He seemed completely sincere.
I said, “Is there somewhere we can meet up later on?”
“Sure, at the White House. There’s a cookout after the hunt and then we’re all going to the dance.”
Simon and his friends went over to the Three and introduced themselves and soon they were all chatting away. When Simon noticed Moto, his friends all wanted to play with her. Before long the whole gang headed east, Moto running in circles around them.
While this was happening, Daniel was feeding Geff. With great care, he worked Geff’s mouth open, then poured liquid into it from a flask, little by little, waiting for Geff to swallow reflexively. He seemed to sense when Geff had had his fill. He capped the flask and wiped Geff’s mouth and worked it closed again.
Geff said, “And now you know the awful truth! I’m a Mash-Head!”
“From what I’ve seen, you’re not alone.”
“The stuff works miracles, actually. Without it, I would’ve called it quits a long time ago.”
“Were you born like this?”
“Hell, no! I was perfectly normal until age 36. Then I started losing control of my muscles. Now I’m completely paralyzed, except for my eyes. But enough about me. Let’s get going.”
Daniel turned Geff’s wheelchair around and started across a wide expanse of blue weeds that must have once been a grassy park. I walked alongside them.
The memory was so sudden it stopped me in my tracks. I had been here before. I had stood in this exact same spot before, gazing at this exact same view. The sky had been a vivid blue, the grass a vivid green.
The entire layout of the National Mall and its surroundings unfolded in my mind, like a map.
Daniel was looking over his shoulder, waiting for me.
Geff said, “Am I going too fast for you?”
I caught up with them. “Sorry, I was distracted for a moment.”
“You still want to hear how Trip Savage met his end?”
“Please.”
We resumed our walk. I could see the Reflecting Pool just up ahead. In my father’s memory, its placid waters mirrored the sky. It was empty now, and the moss had claimed it.
Geff said, “Okay. President Savage spewed a lot of hate but he wasn’t stupid. When the Great Crash came, he knew a full-scale attack would follow. UNK/C was breaking every promise they’d ever made to him. So he basically abandoned his country and set about turning this Dome into a bunker.
“The grid went down right away, which blacked out all the lights in here, including the artificial sun. This had never happened before and everyone had the same reaction: get the hell out. The roads began to fill with cars.
“But Trip was already sealing the archways one by one. He knew the emergency power wouldn’t last and he needed electricity to close the storm doors.
“Word got out and some unknown hero at the last archway trashed the hydraulics, preventing the doors from closing. The traffic jam lasted for three days but
eventually everyone made it out, including every single member of Congress. The only people left behind were the ones who couldn’t afford to leave.
“So, not counting the poor folks, it was just Trip and his Washington Militia. First, he ordered them to break loose every statue they could find and barricade the open archway. Then he ordered them to surround the Dome.
“Trip didn’t have that many men but he had all kinds of weapons, huge stores of ammunition, and plenty of time to get ready. His militiamen were armed to the teeth and covered in body armor. The sealed archways were heavily guarded, from the outside. There were militiamen all over the roof of the Dome, ready to shoot down helicopters and planes.
“But the joke was on Trip. His forces never saw a single UNK/C peacekeeper or fired a single weapon. Instead, the sky turned purple and a dozen tornados came at them from every direction, flattening everything around the Dome and sweeping it clean of militiaman. That was the day Trip found out that UNK/C could control the weather.
“There was always Plan B of course. When the tornados hit, Trip hightailed it down to his bunker, the one built for nuclear war. That’s where he spent his final hours, probably feeling pretty safe.
“The next morning UNK/C dropped a team of peacekeepers onto the roof of the Dome, where they cut their circle. Then another team flew in by helicopter and landed on the White House lawn. From there they headed straight down to the bunker. Its location was top secret, like the pass codes, but they just waltzed right in and grabbed him. Someone with very high clearance must have sold him out. They promptly hanged him from the White House balcony and left his body dangling.
“While this was happening, more helicopters flew in and destroyed every library in the city, from the Library of Congress on down. They didn’t miss a single one. Then the helicopters flew out through the hole and vanished into the sky. UNK/C never set foot in the Dome again.”
“They just abandoned it?”
“Yes.”
“How many other Domes did they abandon?”
“None. Just Washington.”
“But why?”
“UNK/C never wanted to build it in the first place. Trip demanded it.”
“And they gave in?”
“Not exactly. He had to pay for it himself.”
“How did he manage that?”
“He gave them Las Vegas. After the Invasion, it became the new American capitol.”
I looked up “Las Vegas” and read the article. Apparently, the city was packed with casinos, nightclubs and hotels.
I said, “What happened to all the government workers in Washington? UNK/C must have needed them. Did they move them all to Nevada?”
“Too impractical. They just rounded them up and sent them down to Richmond and set up a provisional government there.”
“Is that where Joseph Clay ended up?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you mind if we ask Daniel?”
“Go ahead. Daniel, hold up for a minute.”
Daniel brought the wheelchair to a halt.
I turned to him. “Do you know where Joseph Clay worked?”
“I believe it was Richmond, Virginia. That’s where I was constructed.”
“Do you have any memories of Joseph Clay?”
“No. I remember nothing about the construction process.”
“Then what are your earliest memories?”
“Working in United North Korea, in Kim Jong-pil’s palace.”
“Really? Were you caring for him?”
“No. I was caring for his youngest son. I was constructed specifically for that purpose.”
“Was he ill?”
“His condition was similar to Geff’s. I’m sorry, but I’m not supposed to speak of it.”
Geff resumed control. “Geff here. Does that answer your question?”
“For the time being.”
Our walk had taken us past the Reflecting Pool and across 17th Street. We were now stopped near the base of the Washington Monument. As I’d suspected, the head impaled on its tip was Abraham Lincoln’s.
I pointed to it. “Why did UNK/C do that to Lincoln’s head?”
“UNK/C? No, no, Trip did that.”
“Why would he do such a thing?”
“According to the story, after he was elected to a third term he started closing all the presidential monuments and walling them off. Since he couldn’t wall off the Washington Monument, he impaled Lincoln’s head on top.”
“But that’s just insane.”
“On some level Trip was always out of his mind. Up until then he’d just managed to keep it under control.”
Daniel turned Geff’s wheelchair and we headed north along a mossy pathway, toward the White House. The last time I’d seen this view, the White House had actually been white. Now, it was a cheerful collection of bright, clashing colors. The front columns were painted like candy canes.
As we approached the Ellipse, I could see smoke rising from a line of barbeque grills. The whole area was teeming with children. Kids were racing and cart wheeling and somersaulting. I scanned the crowd, trying to pick out the Three, but didn’t see them anywhere.
We were about to cross Constitution Avenue when Humphrey’s robot horse appeared from the east, galloping down the road at full speed.
Geff said, “Something’s wrong. Humphrey never lets Lollipop run wild.”
I said, “Does she understand English?”
“Yes. And Chinese.”
Lollipop veered south, onto blue weeds, cutting across the Mall. For all her speed, she had no clear destination. I took off in pursuit.
It took every bit of effort I could muster, but I caught up with her. Making a flying leap, I grabbed hold of the saddle horn and swung myself onto her back. Then I snatched up the reins and pulled, slowing Lollipop to a trot.
Leaning forward, I spoke close to her ear. “Take it easy, Lollipop, everything’s going to be okay. If Humphrey is in trouble, just take me to him, as fast as you can.”
She seemed to understand me, turning around and breaking into a gallop again.
The cowboys in Shane had to jounce in their saddles to keep rhythm with their horses, but the ride on Lollipop’s back couldn’t have been smoother. Even at a gallop, all I experienced was a gentle rocking.
Lollipop headed east, back onto Constitution Ave., and took a left onto 15th Street. We sailed past the Treasury Building and angled onto New York Ave. Empty office buildings and parking garages lined both sides of the street. We charged through Mt. Vernon Square, zigzagging past the rubble of the Historical Society.
After that, we seemed to exceed the limits of my knowledge. The grid of glowing streets became nameless and unfamiliar.
As the blocks of vacant storefronts and parking lots flew by, I realized it wasn’t going to be a quick ride. This required no knowledge of the city. I was keeping my eye on the opening in the roof, still off in the distance.
Finally, we crossed an overpass and took a left. As we raced northward, the buildings thinned out and the landscape became more rural. We passed a hulking hospital complex, and then our destination came into view.
The opening loomed large now, and through it I could see a slice of rust colored sky. Outside, the sun was setting, but enough light still streamed into the Dome to illuminate a dense forest of blue trees and brush. We had arrived at the Fruitlands.
The mossy pavement gave way to a dirt road that circled the forest. Lollipop took me straight to a spot by the edge of the trees where a wagon sat, loaded with baskets of breadfruit and hazelberries and shay. I saw no sign of Humphrey except for his cap, which lay abandoned on the ground.
Lollipop pawed the dirt and whinnied, calling to him. No response. She whinnied again. Nothing.
I patted her neck and hushed her, then boosted my audio levels to their highest setting. The words were almost inaudible, but unmistakable: “You must pledge fealty to Q
ueen Scarlett.”
I returned my audio settings to normal. “Lollipop, did a LobeBot get Humphrey?”
She whinnied.
I tugged the reins. “Okay, they went this way.”
We sprinted off to the east, following the dirt road around the edge of the forest. We circled almost halfway before we caught up with them.
Four LobeBots were carrying Humphrey by his arms and legs, working as a team, each one holding a limb. Humphrey dangled face up, unconscious but apparently unharmed, aside from the fact that his head was bouncing along on the ground.
Impressive as their teamwork was, the LobeBots seemed to be going nowhere. I got the feeling that, left to their own devices, they would have circled the woods indefinitely.
Fortunately, the LobeBots paid us no mind as we came up behind them. I wanted to rescue Humphrey without being seen by Queen Scarlett. I brought Lollipop to a halt and leapt to the ground. Moving as quickly as possible, I crouched down and went from right ankle to right ankle, hitting failsafe buttons. The LobeBots all crumpled to the ground at about the same time.
I scooped up Humphrey, saying, “Come on, Lollipop, let’s get him back to the wagon.”
Lollipop lowered herself to her knees and I draped Humphrey face down across the saddle. I ran alongside her on the way back, making sure he didn’t slide off.
When we arrived at the wagon, I discovered a bed of sorts already waiting for Humphrey. He must have created it himself: a narrow pallet of shay, bordered by baskets of fruit. As I lowered him onto it, he groaned and his eyes flickered open.
He said, “LobeBots. Hate ‘em…”
“Don’t worry, you’re safe now. We’re taking you back to town.”
He murmured, “Supplies are overdue,” and drifted into unconsciousness again.