by Jason Luthor
I give one final wave as the band kicks up again, the buglers and drummers starting the music again as the procession starts to turn, moving back toward the walls and the exit gate, back out onto 41st street as they exit back into the streets. The sounds of their music fades and finally comes to a stop. Then, a second later, the men and women on bagpipes, trailed by the groups of dancers who are now stepping in formation, begin their walk out, the steady beat of the drums following everyone out into the night.
Jackie wipes at her eyes. “Uh, thank you, Mr. President,” she says, embarrassed.
“You know, I’m dead serious when I talk about the importance of building culture. Everything we do today and tomorrow, every decision we make, it defines who we are as a people. Our traditions, our music, our way of life, it all has to be about more than just fighting. It has to be about principles. These celebrations we do, sure, they draw upon our military bands to perform them. At the end of the day though, what is our military serving for. What are the principles we’re fighting for.” I motion out to the people, who’re clapping with the last sounds of the drums vanishing in the distance. “I know who I’m fighting for. That’s why I never doubt my commitment to the principles of freedom, democracy, and respect for others. Even if that means I take risks that others don’t agree with. Even if that means I’m willing to try and make peace with people we’ve historically been enemies with. We can never abandon our commitment to our ideals.”
She nods as she continues to wipe at her eyes. “I’m trying to figure out what mine are too.”
“You’ll get there, Jackie. I believe in you.”
Dodger’s Recording 12
I’m lying on the couch, my head on Tommy’s shoulder, when I realize he’s staring up at the ceiling. “Babe?” I ask him. “What’s wrong?”
“Mike and Jackie went out to the Green Zone today.”
“I thought that was the plan?”
“It is. I’m glad they went. I guess I’m just worried about me and Jackie.”
I push off of him and put my arm around his shoulders. “Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“Tommy.” He takes in a deep breath and leans over, his hands wiping down his face. I can see the edges of his eyes watering up while he’s trying to hold it together. “Tommy, what’s going on?”
“I told you me and Jackie got into an argument at Fort Silence.”
“Yeah. You didn’t go into a lot of details.”
“Because I respect her, and I love her so damn much. I didn’t want to say anything bad, but . . .”
“Tommy, Jackie’s amazing, but she’s not perfect. What happened to you two?”
“I told you she came into my room at four in the morning and we got into an argument. I didn’t tell you that she broke a chair when she got angry at me, or that she whipped out these . . . these claws, like Judge or Sally would.”
“She didn’t do anything to you, did she?”
“No. She never would. And, to be honest, I get being angry and doing things you regret. What hurt me, Dodger . . . “ He wipes at his eyes, and I just l lean onto him and rub his back. “What hurt me is that she was drunk when she was doing it. Believe it or not, but I could accept the rest of what she did. I get becoming that angry. I don’t really even care if someone gets tipsy. But getting drunk, coming to my room, breaking furniture . . .”
“Sounds like someone you’ve told me about before.”
“Yeah. My dad.”
“I’m so sorry, Tommy.”
“I’ve stared down Creepers, monsters like Judge and Sally, raiders with their guns pointed at me . . .” His hands slap down onto his knees. “Tiffany, it made me feel like an eight-year-old kid again, with my dad smashing a hole in the wall. Right before he’d grab me so hard my arm would nearly pull out of the socket. Right before he’d lock me in the closet.”
He never calls me by my first name, and hearing it like that, I just know he’s serious. My hand drops down to his, and our fingers wrap together as we’re sitting there. “I’m here for you.”
I can feel his body rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. “I know. I’ve just . . . I’ve been going over it in my head every hour since it happened. I don’t want to see my dad in Jackie. I can’t. I could never call her a friend again if that happened.”
“Hey, Tommy, it was a mistake. People get to make a mistake. You haven’t talked to her about this yet, so maybe she doesn’t even know how hard you took it. Give her one mistake. We know Jackie. We know she would do anything for you. Once she realizes what happened . . .”
“I just don’t know when I can talk to her anymore. I feel like she’s just really angry with me but doesn’t even realize how deep she cut me.”
“We’ll talk to her. We’ll talk to her, Tommy.”
“She’d never drank before. That’s what I’m chalking it up to.”
I lean over and kiss his cheek. “We’ll get this figured out. Me and you.”
Tommy looks back at me and smiles. “Right. We’ve always been better together.”
Watson’s Recording 03
I suppose it would be appropriate, for posterity’s sake, to record all my duties here at Fort Silence. While the rest of the diplomatic team deigned it necessary to return to Central Freedom, I volunteered to stay on and perform an assessment of the equipment being held here at the fort. Of course, of the military vehicles, there isn’t much to say. Late war era military devices that hadn’t seen any form of maintenance until they were reclaimed by the survivors of the Following Fall. Impressive enough, I suppose. The vehicles are Apeiron designed. The bulky walker suits are mostly Apeiron created as well, with some elements of Carthaginian tech adapted into them. Circuits, power relays, those sorts of things.
Of course, none of it compares to the Dynamis, which I will be inspecting later in the week. As I understand, General Yousef’s more than reluctant to put it to any use without some form of expert analysis. There is no greater expert than I, after all, so I shall be, hm, enjoying my time later this week. Such fascinating vehicles, the larger Apeiron war machines. It simply baffles the learned mind to think the Creep was able to survive the onslaught of Apeiron’s greatest technology in the last days of the August War.
Which, of course, is why I found it no surprise that the general was investigating alternative methods of destroying the Creep. Two, in fact. I’ve spent the better part of the last few days reviewing the first method for interrupting the Creep’s biological structure using a technological approach. In fact, it’s an idea I’ve wondered about but never felt I could put into action at Central, precisely for the reason the general noted. Such a plan would require infiltration into a centralized source of Creep control and the military power to put the plan into motion. The device would simply be a far more complex and sophisticated version of the repulsion poles we use to fend off the Creep, a Pocket Space empowered energy bomb, of sorts. This device, though, would be far more potent. Placed at a source of Creep control, it could potentially eliminate Creep activity for miles around it. Functionally, it would slip into Pocket Space, from which it would begin emitting the type of energy waves necessary for suppressing the Creep. A risky plan, but one with amazing outcomes if it were successful. Calibration for the device would need to be extremely precise, however, as even a slight deviation in the frequency it emitted would simply stimulate an overwhelmingly aggressive Creep response.
Did I mention the second plan the general had in mind? Ah, no, I don’t believe I’ve spoken about it. Yes, he arrived today in the middle of my inspection of the laboratory I was setting up for my time here. It must have been . . . hm, perhaps six in the evening when I saw him arrive. At first, I was inclined to shoo him out of the lab. After all, general or not, the primacy of scientific advancement must be respected. I can’t very well probe the intricacies of science if I haven’t the appropriate facilities, and having people stomping about whenever they want to simply won’t do.
&nb
sp; However, it’s not a lab yet, so when he does arrive, I fail to mention the lack of manners he displays. I simply greet him with a smile, something I am always being told to do more of. “May I help you, General Yousef?”
“Ah, Doctor Watson.” That smile he gives me . . . I’ve lived five hundred years and seen little that is less genuine. “I was wondering if we could talk about an idea I have for the Creep.”
“The device, yes. I believe I’ve already told you that I am only at a preliminary stage of investigation.”
“No, not that. I was thinking something more along the line of a failsafe. Something to help us if the device should fail.”
“Fail?” If anything fails, it’s my ability to hide the feeling of insult I experience. “Are you implying I won’t do my part to ensure the success of your project?”
“I’m a military man. Surely, you of all people understand the importance of having . . . backup plans, should one plan fail. It’s lives at risk, after all.”
“I suppose.” He chooses his words with all the pickiness of a wine connoisseur. “What sort of backup plan were you thinking of?”
“A viral one. If we’re not able to destroy a local source of Creep control, I believe we can pass along a virus that could at least destroy some of the creatures infected by the Creep.”
“You want to target the Stilts, then.” The codename for the humanoid Creepers commonly found throughout the Creep. “They are indeed a nuisance.”
“I’d also like to target the Rocs that make it impossible to stay in the sky, if possible, though I’m mostly concerned about the Creepers on the ground. They put my men at constant risk.”
“Understandably.” I must admit, at this point, I remain confused as to the general’s request. “So, what is it you would like me to do, precisely?”
“I would like for you to take over a research project we’ve been working on here at the fort. For quite a while, we’ve been hoping to develop a virus that we could introduce into the Creeper population. I’m sure you know this, but the Creep releases quite a lot of chemicals and hormones into the air.”
“Of course I know it. Do you take me for a second-year biology major?”
He laughs at me. At me! “I’m not even sure what that means, doctor. What I do know is that you’re a genius, if I’ve heard right.”
“Genius. I simply apply the principles of science to their logical end.”
“And you produce results I’ve never heard anyone else is capable of. That’s why I’d like you to take a look at our project. We’ve been trying to develop a virus that transmits through the air, jumping along the chemical trail that Creepers produce until the virus lodges in the host itself.”
“Aerial transmission.”
“Placed in soldiers who can safely carry it because it would only target Creepers. It would only take one encounter for the virus to transmit.”
“I must admit, it is, hm, an intriguing concept, particularly if you’ve already successfully completed the foundational work necessary.”
“We have. It’s nothing we’d want to introduce into the population anytime soon. Like I said, it’s just a backup plan in case we aren’t able to deal with the Creep using your Pocket Space bomb.”
I shake my head. “A scientific endeavor . . . it requires time, and focus. You cannot split your attention between projects and expect optimal results.”
“You’d have every member of the labs available to you.”
“And how would that address the fundamental problem of limited human cognitive power? The power of a river is weakened when it is split.”
He smiles and looks away, as if he’s ashamed to have even mentioned such a notion. “I’m sorry. I am an intelligent man, but I don’t possess the genius of my father or even the intelligence of my inventor sister. I grew up on the stories of great creators and scientists who were able to do amazing things, but it was always hard to tell what was just a story.” He turns his back to me, dismissing me like some whining child. “I should have known those were just legends and fairytales.”
He must be a few feet away from the exit before I feel compelled to protest. “I’d prefer you to know that I consider myself the equal of any scientist you may have read about. My entire life has been dedicated to the pursuit of accomplishing the extraordinary, of harnessing the raw essence of the natural world for the benefit of mankind.”
“I understand. I’m sorry I implied you could manage two projects though. I should have realized it would be a difficult feat, particularly after you’ve spent such a long time away from your field.”
“That is entirely uncalled for. I have more than the cognitive capacity to manage two projects at once.”
The general slowly turns back around to me. “That’s all I’m asking for your help with. If you really are the equal of those great men of the past, then you can help us defeat the Creep even faster than if we tried to do this without your help. But, it’s really up to you if you want to test yourself that way, to see if you can thrive even when the stakes are at their highest.”
“Of course I can,” I nearly spit back at him. “But I’d be a mere fool if I didn’t at least ask you why such urgency to have both projects accelerated.”
“The truth?”
“Yes. The truth is the greatest pursuit of all.”
He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’m going to mention this when I speak to the Advisory Council and War Council from Central Freedom, but our spies in the Deadlands have reported that the raiders being led by the Tank intend to direct the Creep against us. Soon.”
“What? How so?”
“We have plans in place to find out, though I understand it has something to do with an energy bomb much like the one you and I have discussed. However, I can’t wait just sit around, hoping to learn more about their plans. I have to prepare for the worst. That’s why I’d hoped you would agree to leading the most brilliant minds in all the Deadlands. Because . . . because I’d hoped you’d have the genius to help ensure the future of what’s left of the civilized world.”
Of course, the notion that the raiders could direct the raw power of the Creep against us . . . It would not be the first time I’d heard of such a plan. The proposed energy bomb wouldn’t be the only means of directing the Creep against an enemy. There are brute, inelegant methods of doing so, using Pocket Space fields to attract waves of Creepers. Even the idea makes me quickly realize the severity of our circumstances, should the raiders be remotely close to completing their plans. After all, of everyone in both Central Freedom and Fort Silence, only I have borne witness to a city consumed by the sheer might of the Creep. It takes only a brief moment before I nod and give my consent. “Yes. Yes, of course. I would be happy to manage both projects. I would need to familiarize myself with the work you’ve completed until now.”
“I’d expect nothing less. Please, come with me. I’ll catch you up to date on the viral project we’ve been working on so far.”
Mike’s Recording 16
I find Jackie on the roof, which has pretty much become the go-to place for finding her. She’s always there on the edge, staring down. As I’m walking over to her, she turns her head, looking at me from behind that mask of hers. “Remember when we used to look down from the roof when we were kids?”
“Kidding me? I still feel like one. That was just a few years ago we were doing that.”
“True. I guess things start to feel a lot longer once you’ve died.”
“Don’t know that experience. I can tell you life feels long after you’ve been hunted by a bunch of fanatics.”
“But you survived,” she says with a smile.
“I had the instinct for it. You had the same instincts, except yours were stronger.”
“Nah. I just had better luck.”
I come up beside her and stare down from the roof. Way beneath us, there are people walking along, even as late as it’s gotten. The windows up and down the block are lit, like glitter in
the dark. “Remember when we used to wonder if there was even a ground floor?”
“How could I forget? The Darkness was everywhere. The only thing we could see was that other Tower.”
“Yeah. Still wonder about that place sometimes. Never found out if it was even a place like ours. You know, one with a huge Pocket Space engine built into it.”
“I never went there either. One day, when I go back home, I’ll explore that place. You never know what you might find.”
“True. Course, that’s all we used to wonder about back then. What’s out there? What’s life like? Does it get better than having to worry about living with Security breathing down our backs?”
She sighs as she looks away. “Are you hear to talk about the Tower, or is this about President Branagh approving an alliance with Fort Silence?”
“If you want to know, then word just came down that the final approval from the councils were in, so he’s going to sign off on it.”
“You’re going to preach to me, aren’t you?”
“Tell me when I’ve ever done that.”
She smiles and looks my way. “Never. I guess we always had some sorta . . . connection. Tommy and I are best friends, but you were my first . . . I don’t know. It’s hard to describe, you know?”
“Crush slash quasi friend?”
“Is that the term for it?”
“Hey. We were pretty close back in the Tower. The closest.”