by James Axler
Except that this strategy didn't allow for the cameras to be taken out. From their position on the upper level of the redoubt, Simon and Al watched in mounting horror as screen after screen went dark, watched each time as one of Ryan's people was caught full in the camera eye as they lined up the shot, then vanished in a blink as the mechanism was shattered and the vid link severed.
Simon looked at Al from the corner of his eye, not wanting the sec chief to realize that he was being stared at. The older man was red in the face from a mixture of tension and suppressed rage, except around the tightly set lips, which were white from the pressure of his clamped jaw. His eyes bulged as he kept his anger and rage within, and Simon was certain he could hear Jorgensen's teeth grinding, even from a distance.
"So what do you want me to do, Al?" Rack asked in a voice that came out much smaller, and more timid, than he would have liked.
There was no answer, and Rack passed an awkward few seconds wondering if he had been heard. He was about to ask again when Al replied in a strangled voice that seemed to be forced from the back of his throat.
"Do nothing, Simon. This is my baby. And they'll learn soon enough."
With which, Al turned on his heel and strode rapidly from the room, leaving Rack in front of the darkened bank of monitors. The observer felt awkward. Should he stay and await further orders? Should he attempt to follow Jorgensen so that he, too, could report? Or should he just try to get the hell out of the way before all hell broke loose, as it surely would.
For Simon knew that Jorgensen was making a complete mess of the situation. He was only an observer, but even he—without training—could see that the situation was absurd. They had a vastly superior arsenal and greater manpower, and yet they now had this group of savages almost inside their base. Things couldn't get worse than this, could they?
THE REDOUBT WAS HUGE. It ran to seventeen levels, burrowing deep into the earth, each level heavily reinforced to secure it against the pressure of the level above and the earth and rock surrounding. It had taken years of work in the two decades before the nukecaust to complete, and even then there were some areas where work had been stopped by skydark, and was only now being resumed and finished with what materials were at hand. It had been a vast undertaking by the secret cabal known as the Illuminated Ones, and the knowledge of how a black budget within the U.S. military-industrial complex had been set up and diverted to insure the completion of this and the other bases of the cabal had been handed down from generation to generation to insure that the importance of security and secrecy was emphasized and maintained.
Which was why Al Jorgensen felt distinctly uncomfortable when he entered the chamber where the central council met. A quorum of eight people—four male and four female—served as the central council. The tasks and divisions codified within the pseudo-military setup of the Illuminated Ones had been established before the nukecaust, and maintained in order to keep a structure during the long years of being hidden from view. Although these structures were rigid, the young ones born during those generations weren't immediately assigned tasks by heredity.
Rather, they were educated, assessed and then allotted their sections according to whatever gifts they might possess. Thus, unlike any other pockets of predark old tech and old ways that might have existed the Illuminated Ones had insured that their redoubt ran smoothly because of competence.
Those who served on the quorum were from the administrative and comp-tech branches of the redoubt. These people had revealed a knack for their tasks during the years of education, and took turns of six months on the leading quorum before returning to their regular tasks until such time as their rota decreed they serve again. Like everything in the redoubt, it was ordered and streamlined to serve as efficiently to the cause as possible. Competence was the watchword, and with their desire to prolong and extend resources for as long as possible, the worst crime was incompetence.
Which was also why Jorgensen was so uncomfortable about facing them. He wasn't a stupid man. In fact, in simulation he had revealed himself as far and away the best for his task. He prided himself on his ability to manage a job. And the fact that he now stood before them as a failure who was endangering their existence was something that hurt his pride deeply. He wasn't afraid of what they would do to him for his failure. In truth, in his eyes he deserved whatever they might decree. The primary shame was that he had failed himself as much as he had failed the cause.
He stood before the quorum in the sparsely furnished room, loosely at ease and staring at a fixed point above their heads. He couldn't bear to look any of them in the eye.
The black metal tables and chairs, padded in black leatherette, absorbed all the light and sound in the room, so that even under the fluorescent glare the lighting seemed subdued, and the multihues of the one-piece uniforms worn by the eight quorum members in front of him seemed to be as muted as the mood evinced by his entrance.
"You don't look happy, Al," said one of the women on the quorum. She leaned forward in her chair, her long, fine blond hair falling over her forehead. "So I take it that it's not good news."
Jorgensen sighed. "I've failed. Maybe you should appoint a replacement taking effect immediately."
"That would be impossible, and you know that," she replied, but with a tone of sympathy in her voice rather than reproach. "Is it really that bad?"
"Maybe worse," Jorgensen said, bringing his gaze down from the fixed point so that he could look her in the eye. "I've fucked up big style, Eve. When it came to it, I just wasn't up to the task. And it's put us all in danger."
Eve Goulden—head of the quorum by virtue of it being her turn, and a comp tech who had a friendly relationship with Jorgensen—shook her head gently. "What's the situation, Al? Put us in the picture and let us be the judge of what's going on."
So he outlined all that had occurred since the Gate tribe and their allies had entered the compound, not flinching from a single detail, including the massacre of his sec force in front of the building, and the fact that the sec-vid cameras had been shot out so that there was now no way of knowing what the invaders were doing until they—perhaps—came in range of a camera secreted in one of the myriad corridors.
"Of course, that assumes that they proceed in such a fashion and don't know exactly where they're heading."
"Which would be?" Goulden questioned.
Jorgensen shrugged. "The elevators and shafts down into the redoubt. I've given up thinking that they know nothing, and maybe should just think that they know everything. Shit, at least that way there's less chance of them taking me by surprise. You know what I'm saying?"
"It's a fair point, I guess," Goulden mused. "But why the hell would they know about the redoubt?"
"Come on, they've been heading in a direct line for us. They knew what they were doing when they were in the compound. I'm certain my attempts to direct them just played right into their hands. And the way they spotted the sec cameras and shot them out when they got in here? No, I can't believe that's all just blind luck. They knew what they were doing. And I reckon they may just have been heading for us."
Goulden looked at the other members of the quorum. "This is worrying, people. We've been working away without figuring on anyone out there knowing we're here, let alone wanting to come after us."
"But why would they? What possible use could we be to them as they are?" asked one of the male quorum members.
It was Jorgensen, shrugging, who answered. "Equipment, stores—it's all hard currency out there these days. We're relatively sheltered here, but I've heard tales of other skirmishes. Could be they got wind of us from one of those trading parties that have passed by, maybe put two and two together and come up with the magic number. Sure as shit they aren't stupid, right?" he added with an edge of bitterness.
Goulden took in her fellow quorum members with a sweeping glance. "Well, if worse comes to worst, then we move on. Right?" She waited until they had all nodded their agreement—a couple of them wit
h some reluctance. "Good," she said finally. "The way I see it is that we don't really have much of an option. But our best hope is to make sure that it actually doesn't come to that."
"How do we do that?" Jorgensen asked her helplessly.
"Well, what do you suggest, Al? After all, you're our sec chief here, right? We have that much faith in you."
Jorgensen's visage brightened visibly. "Well, if it comes to that, I guess the best thing to do is secure all entrances into the redoubt, posting guards with heavy armament. Also, I would suggest we go to high alert status and prepare for an immediate evac. We shouldn't have to do that, but I'll be fucked if I'm going to let myself be responsible for the possibility of a screwup that big."
Goulden smiled at him. "You've calmed down and cheered up a lot already, Al, and I think it's helped your thinking. Between us all, we can see off this challenge. After all, who do these people think they are, for fuck's sakes?"
"YOU WANT TO WHAT?" Ryan asked incredulously.
Doc shrugged uncomprehendingly, unable to grasp why Ryan was so bemused.
"I believe I made my request quite clear. I wished to—"
"Yeah, you wished to examine all the old documents that Gloria carries in her personal belongings. Doc, why the hell do you want to look at all that now? When we're going to have to work out what the hell our next move is going to be? What the fireblasted hell could you want—?"
The one-eyed warrior suddenly broke off into silence. Could it be that Doc had dredged something from his memory that tied in with something in the documents? He fixed the older man with a penetrating gaze from his icy blue orb.
Doc immediately divined his meaning. "Exactly, my dear Ryan. It was only when I exchanged some friendly repartee with the young men Jon and Petor that the proverbial penny dropped for me. This building and the way in which it is laid out appear somewhere within the old documents that the queen carries with her…presumably for such a moment as this. Perhaps, in times past and when the legends were better remembered, before the inability to read entered the gene pool and swung them away from a straight and true path on their mission, the documents were known to be kept for such a purpose." Ryan looked at Doc, delaying an answer while he added the whole thing up in his mind. Doc's reasoning would make sense, and as for his assertion that the documents held a map of this shadow Pentagon… Well, Doc might have fragile grasp on reality that could, at times, falter into the realms of madness, but he was also capable of mental feats that would leave lesser men grasping at reason.
When Doc had approached Ryan, the one-eyed warrior was sitting apart from the rest of the group, accompanied only by Krysty. They were discussing what they would do if they got through the coming battle without being chilled, and Jak decided to go with the Gate when the two groups parted company. Losing Jak would be a wrench, as he was a good fighter and a good friend, but it wouldn't be the first time, and somehow their paths always seemed to cross again. So it was that, even when Ryan raised his voice in surprise, it didn't attract anything other than idle curiosity from Dean, J.B. or Mildred. Jak— almost as if to prove the point Ryan and Krysty were discussing—was with Gloria, as the Gate and their traveling companions took some much needed R and R, guarded on all sides, before settling on a battle plan. Although on enemy territory, they felt secure as the very thing that made the corridors difficult to negotiate as an attacking force also made them easy to defend.
Krysty broke the silence. "I think Doc may have a point, lover. If there is something in those papers, then it could change whatever plans Gloria may be making at this moment, or whatever we may be thinking of doing. It won't be hard to get access to them, as Petor always keeps Gloria's things to hand. I think we should ask her."
Ryan nodded decisively. "Yeah, of course you're right. I just wish your timing was a little better, Doc," the one-eyed warrior added with a grin.
Doc returned the favor. "I do not do it on purpose, my dear boy. I think that sometimes my mind just refuses to work as I would wish."
Ryan rose to his feet. "Okay, let's go and ask Gloria if we can see the documents, and if you can find the one you remember."
"Oh, it is there. Rest assured that it is there," Doc murmured decisively.
Before approaching Gloria, Ryan went over to where J.B., Mildred and Dean were resting, and told them all that had transpired between himself, Krysty and Doc.
"Then we'd better be with you," J.B. said as he placed his fedora firmly on his head and pushed his spectacles back up onto the bridge of his nose.
Rising to her feet, Mildred agreed. "When Doc finds what he's looking for, then I think we need to see it to make up our own minds about what it means."
Dean also scrambled to his feet. "Yeah, not just that," he said with humor, "but I've just got to see Jon and Petor's faces when they realize that Doc's not as crazy as they think."
Doc wrinkled his brow. "It is actually a debatable point, I suspect," he said distantly.
"What is?" Dean asked, puzzled.
Doc looked at him, wide-eyed. "Why, whether I really am as crazy as they think," he answered disarmingly. Then he added, "By their terms, at least."
Mildred shook her head, plaits waving wildly around her head. "I know what my answer would be, you old fool, but crazy is maybe the only way to get by around here these days. If you're right, there's no way they're going to make a fuss about whether you're all there in the head."
"There is only one way for us to find out," Doc said brightly. He turned to Ryan. "Lead on, dear boy, lead on."
The party made its way through the resting crowd of Amazons and their menfolk. The lobby of the building where they had set up temporary camp was large, but not so large that the combined numbers and bulk of the Gate and their caravan hadn't actually filled the space to an extent where, while they were at their ease, it was actually hard to move around freely.
So it took a few moments for the companions to cover the short distance to the point where Jak and Tammy were seated with Gloria, discussing possible tactics for attacking the Illuminated Ones—once they could find a way into where their enemy was based. As the companions approached, Krysty could hear Jak trying to explain the concept of the redoubt and how it worked to the two warrior women, but his lack of vocabulary and narrative skill was making it difficult. From the looks on the faces of the two women, they were having more than a little trouble grasping what exactly he meant.
"Jak, Doc's had an idea that could help you out here," Krysty said as they came near.
The albino looked up, relief in his eyes at this burden being lifted. "Glad hear. Words not strong point," he said.
"Everyone has their own ways, sweets," Gloria added softly. "Yours are more practical, is all."
"And so is Doc's suggestion," Ryan said, hunkering down. "We really need to go through all those papers that you carry with you."
Gloria fixed him with a puzzled stare, her own icy blue eyes penetrating Ryan's singular diamond-blue orb. "My heritage? They're precious, honey, and this is neither the time nor the place to start fucking with our history."
"Madam," Doc cut in softly, but with a tone of authority in his voice that betrayed in its weary edge the experiences of someone who had led a unique and unbelievable existence, "I realize the sacred importance of the words and pictures you carry with you. They have the weight of your history and destiny in them. But I believe that the history and destiny has arrived. This is the time and place of which those documents speak. This is perhaps that for which you have spent so long searching, and within those papers—handed to your forebears so long ago when they embarked on this quest—there is the key to our current situation."
Gloria grinned her lopsided grin and reached out to Doc, ruffling his mane of white hair with a suddenness that caught him completely by surprise and off guard, so much so that he almost looked embarrassed.
"You, on the other hand—you're very good with words. So good that you almost lose me in them. So you think some of the sacred text
s are about here?"
"In the proverbial nutshell, madam, if that old saw is something that makes sense in these times. Yes, I believe that when you showed us those papers some time back I was privy to witness no less than a map of this very place. For reasons that would take too long and would be too, too bizarre to unveil right now, I had heard of such a place as this before. It took some time for my addled and frankly decaying synapses to make the connection, but I believe that— if I am correct—then we will have discovered the way to access the bolt hole of the Illuminated Ones."
Tammy blew out her breath loudly. "Shit, you can't be that crazy, 'cause I never heard anyone who was use words like that! What do you think, Glo?" the auburn-curled Amazon asked her queen.
"I say that mebbe crazy men aren't as stupidworks as the rest of their kind."
She smiled, then called out, "Petor, get over here, honey."
The gangling youth who was the queen's bearer appeared at her side as if from nowhere, showing that the secret training he and Jon had undertaken to be better warriors than the majority of Gate menfolk had been of some benefit, which Gloria duly noted.
"I'm going to have to watch you," she murmured with a raised eyebrow, '"cause that was pretty warrior-like for a man. Anyway, get the chest from my things, sweets. We need to look at the sacred writings."
Petor disappeared into the crowd without a word, reappearing a scant few minutes later with the battered tin trunk in which the writings and maps that were sacred to the Gate were stored. He put it down before Gloria and handed her the key, which he kept secreted away where only he and the Amazon queen knew. It was among the belongings that traveled with the trunk, but inaccessible to anyone else, and he had extracted it before removing the trunk.
