“I owe you, Halo. You did save my life.” He gave her another rare smile and said, “See you in a bit,” and signed off.
Raven turned to her. “About us not having fighters.” He gestured down the hall. “We do have weapons, but we rarely use them. Just things we’ve stockpiled, old guns we’ve come across, things like that. You’re welcome to take a look.”
She nodded. They headed down the hall and entered a spacious room with weapons stored in wall racks. She saw traditional guns that fired projectiles like bullets and pellets, a handful of flash bursters, a few beautifully preserved swords, and a collection of energy weapons designed to immobilize. They both selected energy rifles, adjusting the settings just shy of lethal. They could always dial them up if they got in any real trouble. Which H124 suspected they’d have no shortage of in Murder City.
Raven checked over his weapon, then slung it over his back. “Looks like now we just need to find Gordon. I wonder if he’s picked out his next plane?”
Out on the airfield, they found Gordon in absolute bliss. He was running his hand over the fuselage of a red plane with double wings. Several other planes were parked nearby. He turned when he heard them.
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
She took in the plane. “Sure is.”
“She’s a Model BH Travel Air biplane.” He turned and opened his arms wide as he took in the sight of all the well-preserved planes. “Isn’t this place amazing?” He grinned. “And come take a look at this!”
They followed him as he hurried toward one of the hangars. He swung open the door, revealing a strange aircraft with a see-through cabin and a seat with pedals. It looked to be human-powered, with no combustible engine. “It’s a Gossamer Albatross. Can you believe it?” He hastened to another hangar. “And look in here!” He pushed open the doors to reveal a plane that didn’t have wings. Instead it sported a flat, circular body with two propellers near the front. “It’s a Vought XF5U Flying Flapjack! These have an almost near-vertical takeoff! Seems to be in pretty good condition, too. I’ve been tinkering with the engine. There’s even a flying wing in another hanger!”
Raven laughed. “Glad you’re enjoying it!”
He clapped his hands together. “So where are we off to?”
“Delta City,” Raven told him.
Gordon’s smile faded. “Oh. Yippee.”
“Once more unto the breach?” she asked him. She’d heard Rovers use the expression.
“Apparently so,” the pilot said, stuffing a rag into his back pocket.
“Did you pick out a new plane?” Raven asked.
Gordon slapped his hands together, louder this time. “Boy howdy.” He narrowed his eyes and pointed a warning to both of them. “And this one’s not getting wrecked. You hear?”
Raven made a slight bow. H124 held up her hand and swore an oath, “We will do our best.”
“You better. I’ll get it ready. Meet me back here.”
She and Raven returned to their quarters and packed up some gear. They stuffed MREs, water bottles, and filters into their packs. Raven got a new maglev sled and clean skin, and then they headed back to the airstrip.
By late that morning they were off in a 1928 Lockheed Vega, banking east toward Murder City.
Chapter 11
They flew for hours, and soon Gordon was soaring them over dry, dusty plains. Already H124 missed the lush green of Sanctuary City. She watched him steer the plane, gazing out over the horizon, completely in his element. She felt bad that her quest had already cost him two planes; this was now his third.
“Love how this baby handles,” Gordon said, grinning. As they flew, the amber dome of Delta City came into view, stretching across the horizon.
Gordon circled and landed beyond the streams of glistening fecal matter that emanated from Delta City. Raven looked at his PRD. “Do you have an ETA from Byron?”
She called him, learning that they wouldn’t be there until early the next day. “We’ll have to make camp here tonight, then,” Raven said.
Gordon wished them luck. “I’ll find a refueling station and wait to hear from you.” He gripped her hand affectionately as she deboarded. “You be careful.”
“I will.” They climbed out and watched him wave and taxi off, bumping along the uneven ground. Then he rose into the sky and she squinted, watching him go.
In the ensuing silence, she and Raven stared up at the dome. Her eyes teared from the reek of urine and methane. The shiny rivers of stool meandered off into the distance.
Nothing grew here, no grass, nor a single tree. Trees were rare enough, she’d found, but in this ruined ground, they didn’t stand a chance.
She turned to Raven. “Shall we try to get some sleep?”
He glanced around. “Definitely. Just wish it weren’t so pungent here.”
They selected a hill about a mile away, high enough to be free of waste matter, and laid their jackets out as makeshift sleeping bags. At least they were somewhat elevated above the river of refuse, though that didn’t stop the smell from creeping up the hillside and assaulting them. She wiped off her squishing boots, then kicked them off, consigning them to a patch of dirt a dozen yards away.
She looked up again at the dome, then down at her PRD. Quiet moments like these made her heart race even more than being inside a hurricane or infiltrating Murder City. In them she could feel the inexorable march of time, feel those chunks of space rock hurtling ever closer. Sitting there doing nothing made her panic. Every minute spent like this was one they might desperately need later as they assembled the spacecraft.
“You look worried,” Raven said, stretching out on his jacket a few feet away.
She nodded.
“I think we did pretty good in that hurricane.”
She managed a smile. “So we did.”
“We can do this.” He watched her for another minute, then gazed upward and closed his eyes.
She shifted her weight, trying not to think of the horrors that awaited them tomorrow.
* * * *
H124 jolted awake, sitting bolt upright. The first light of dawn glowed gold in the east. She snapped her head to the west, where she heard a noisy mechanical pounding. The only thing she could make out was a cloud of dust, and something moving within it.
Raven sat up next to her, sweeping his long hair out of his eyes. “What is that?” He stood up, and pulled a pair of diginocs out of his pack. He focused them, looking immediately perplexed. “Looks like a giant robotic animal.”
“What?” She stood up and borrowed the nocs. Through the dust she saw a massive mechanical quadruped powering across the terrain. Four figures rode on top of the creature, headed straight for them. It glinted in the sun.
“The Silver Beast,” she breathed, handing back the nocs.
As the behemoth drew closer, one of its riders stood and waved. Byron wore his usual worn green jacket and black jeans, his long, dark blond hair tied back. His green eyes twinkled mischievously in his tanned, fawn-colored face. Two others figures rose as well, and H124 couldn’t help but grin. One, nearly six feet tall, was unmistakable with her red-and-black mohawk and facial tattoos covering her sepia face. Astoria. The other, just as tall, but slightly stockier, had long black-and-purple dreadlocks that framed his dark umber features. It was Astoria’s twin brother, Dirk. The last person, a thin man with a weather-worn beige face, blue eyes, and a blue-and-blond twin ‘hawk, drove the Beast.
“Hello!” H124 yelled, waving back.
The Beast came to rest at the bottom of the hill, and the four riders climbed down a metal ladder. Byron gave her a warm hug, nearly cracking her ribs. Dirk followed suit, and Astoria gave a standoffish wave, though her usual gruff manner was familiar and welcome. They were all covered in dust, each wearing guns strapped to their waists.
“This is Raven,” H124 told them. They shook h
ands all around.
“So you’re a Rover?” Dirk asked him. “We didn’t think you guys actually existed.”
Raven smiled. “Turns out we do.”
Byron gestured at the thin man. “This is Chadwick. He runs the transmitter. Built it himself.”
H124 bowed her head. “Thank you so much for helping us.”
He gave a shy smile. “When I heard what was at stake, I knew it was the least I could do.”
H124 appraised Astoria. “And you two? I definitely wouldn’t expect you to come with us.”
Dirk hooked his thumb at his sister and laughed. “You mean you wouldn’t expect her to come.”
H124 grinned. “Okay. Yes. Astoria.”
The fighter shrugged. “Seemed like you guys could use me. Especially this loser,” she added, punching Dirk in the shoulder.
He rubbed it. “Thanks.”
“So what’s the plan?” H124 asked.
Chadwick cleared his throat. “I fire up the transmitter. Get a broadcast going, targeting the media streams of the citizens who maintain the shield. Then you guys get in.”
“Sounds good,” she said. “Let’s do it.”
As they all checked their gear, Chadwick climbed back up into the Beast. The whirring of gears attracted H124’s attention, so she looked up to see him raising a huge antenna. “You best be off,” he told them. “I’m starting my broadcast now.”
And so they headed toward the shield wall, H124 looking back over her shoulder. “Thank you!” she called out, waving. Chadwick waved back.
“We’ll have to be really careful once we get inside,” Byron warned them. “This part of the city is highly unstable.”
“What do you mean?”
“This section of the city used to run on nuclear energy, but the plants failed years ago. They decided to try geothermal, tapping deeper and deeper down into the crust. The bedrock fractured and shifted. It affected some old fault lines, and earthquakes started to occur. Buildings fell faster than they could be rebuilt. Finally they just gave up, leaving the infrastructure here to run at a bare minimum. This whole place might fall down around us.”
Raven unpacked the maglev sled from his pack, and powered it up. “We can use this to raise ourselves above the wall.”
Byron turned toward the sled. “I’ll go up first. Get the lay of the land.” Above them, a hole appeared in the shield, just big enough for them to slip through. The transmission from the Silver Beast was working.
Byron climbed onto the sled’s flat surface, commanding it to lift him up the enormous retaining wall. He hopped off at the top. H124 followed him with her eyes, shielding them against the sun as she did. He walked through the hole in the shield and out of sight. A minute later he returned. “Come on up.” He sent the maglev back down, and one by one they rode it to the top of the wall.
Astoria was last. “I can’t believe I’m following you damn fools into this.”
“We’re grateful to have you,” H124 told her.
Once they were inside the shield, H124 looked back to see the mobile transmitter moving away, its powerful legs stomping across the terrain. Behind them the shield flickered and came back on, its orange glow restored.
Before her stretched the sprawl of Delta City. Byron was right—the buildings here were in shambles, many with missing walls and some collapsed outright. It didn’t look as bad as the ancient, ruined cities she’d crossed through on her journey, but it wasn’t far behind.
After they rode the maglev down the wall to street level, Raven packed it away. Dirty, starving citizens squatted in alleys and slept in spaces under fallen slabs of concrete. A woman in soiled, tattered rags looked up at them from where she crouched. Eyes full of fear, she struggled to her feet, and hurried off. When the others saw the Badlanders coming, they also slunk away, dragging their filthy blankets. Recalling the eager mob from her first visit to the eastern part of Murder City, H124 worried they’d be back in larger numbers.
“They’re probably amassing reinforcements,” Astoria growled, reading H124’s mind. “There’ll be about a million more of them in a minute, dragging us down and clawing at our faces.”
“Let’s get a move on,” Byron said. “Which way?”
H124 consulted her PRD. They headed in the direction of the aeronautics facility.
As they passed down a quiet street, they came across a living pod building that lacked an entire wall, with gaping holes to the outside. H124 was amazed to see citizens still inside, working on their floating displays, watching media and entering commands as if nothing were wrong.
On the ground floor, one person sat on his couch, his attention not once leaving the floating display, even as they walked by. His eyes were dark and sunken, his body so emaciated she wondered how he was able to function. She backed up, and noticed the occupant in the living pod one floor up. She too was thin and starving, her arms mere skin stretched over bone. Yet she continued to enter commands on the display, completely zoned to the entertainment channels before her.
“It looks like these citizens aren’t getting fed,” H124 said, gesturing toward them. “They’re starving.”
“Maybe the PPC has abandoned them, too,” Byron said.
She walked toward the man on the ground floor. He still didn’t notice her. As she got closer, she saw that he was watching a reality show. Two women sat around a table, comparing bracelets:
“The emoticon on your bracelet is so much better than mine.”
“I know. The crying wah-wah face is the best. But if you get enough points, you could get one, too.”
“But then I’d be just like you.”
“I know!” They both tittered happily.
The man’s pod was filthy. Workers hadn’t cleaned it in who knew how long. She walked closer.
“Hey,” she said to him, stopping at the edge of the ruined wall. He didn’t look up.
“What are you doing, Halo?” Byron asked, aghast.
She turned to him. “We can’t just leave these people like this.” She went back to the man. “Hey. Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
She stepped through the wall and into the pod.
“What the hell are you doing?” Astoria yelled. “We don’t have time for this!”
H124 heard footsteps crunch in the debris behind her. Dirk joined her. “Is he even aware of us?”
On his screen, one of the women said, “We could both get the wall and have little stars forever!”
“They don’t even make sense,” Dirk said.
“Willoughby told me that they aren’t even real people, that it’s all computer generated, with words and plots that are strung together randomly.”
The other woman on the screen said, “Don’t even tell me about the walrus. We all went to the corner that time.” The women laughed again.
H124 walked up to the man and bent over him.
She put her hand through the shimmering display, and finally he noticed them. His mouth came open, and he stared up at his guests. “Who . . . ?” he started to say.
“Hey,” she said. “Are you okay?”
He blinked, his face vacant.
“When was the last time you ate?” she asked him.
“What?” the man asked. Already his attention was returning to the reality show. He entered a few commands on the virtual keyboard. He had completely forgotten about H124.
H124 leaned to the side, seeing the glowing power conduit below his headjack. It wouldn’t detach him from the network, but his display would shut off. She reached down and pressed it. The shimmering display vanished, and the man let out a gasp. He tried to stand, but fell back down on the couch, his eyes watery and wide.
“What . . . ?” he said again. He gazed around the room, mouth open in terror. “Where did it go?” he cried in a cracked voice.
“Take it easy,” Dirk told him, reaching out to touch his arm.
The man shrank away, touching his headjack, fumbling for the display switch.
“Wait,” H124 said, catching his hand before he could switch it back on. “When was the last time a drone delivered food to you?”
The man pushed her away. “I don’t know.” He shoved feebly at her hand, and switched the display back on. In moments he was back to watching the show, the two characters now showing off anklets to each other. “Only two thousands credits!” one of them cried gleefully.
She heard the familiar sound of a food delivery drone outside, and stepped back out of the living pod. Two buildings down, a single drone delivered food cubes to another building of living pods. In New Atlantic, there’d be a fleet of drones, not just one. There was no way it could carry enough cubes to feed even a single floor of a building. Once it left, she waited for it to come back, but it never did.
“They must be providing the bare minimum to keep these people alive,” Dirk observed, watching the sky where the drone had vanished.
H124 looked back at the starving man. At least the people in the street knew what was happening to them. They fought for food. This man was completely unaware he was starving.
Raven joined them, peering in at the thin man. “I don’t see how these people can live for long like this.”
Out on the street, Astoria put a hand on her hip. “Are you bleeding hearts ready? Let’s get this thing and get the hell out of here.”
They continued on, following the blinking arrow on H124’s PRD map. She took the lead. Finally she reached the location. To her disappointment, the building there had collapsed, leaving a pile of rubble on the spot. But if the engineers had followed protocol, the spacecraft section would be deep underground.
“It’s got to be down here,” H124 said, waving them over. Raven was the first one to reach her. They began lifting away debris.
Suddenly she went off balance, and sprawled into the street. For a second she couldn’t figure out what had happened. Then Raven fell over, too, his back striking a cement block. The street groaned as a wave shook through it. One block over, a building moaned and toppled, sending up plumes of dust.
Shattered Lands Page 11
