Gerald N. Lund 4-In-1 Fiction eBook Bundle
Page 50
His fist crashed down on the table. “And that is going to stop!” he thundered. “You will not in any way help this man. Is that clear?”
The editor rocked back, stunned by the savagery in the Major’s face, but he was not totally cowed. “May I ask what events have justified this? All we know is that everyone has been put under curfew.”
The Major’s anger disappeared with the same swiftness with which it had flared up. “Yes. That finishes the formal statement. I’ll now answer your questions. The rebels have begun a major offensive. Nine people in Shalev have had their implantations illegally removed since three o’clock this afternoon. Arsonists set a fire in Shalev General Hospital today to cover an attack on the team guarding Dr. Clifford Cameron.”
“Cameron?” Charles Cowles, the president of KSHV-TV, asked. “Was he rescued?”
“Rescued? I think kidnapped would be a better term.”
“Nine people?” The voice was that of Karl Francis of KAFC radio. “Have any of them been found?”
“Not yet. A Guardian checkpoint north of Shalev was attacked this evening and a truckload of people broke free to the mountains. We assume all nine were in that truck along with some of the other rebels.”
The editor of the Morning Tribune, whom Nicole did not know, stood up. “If they’ve escaped, why the martial law now? Isn’t that a kind of shutting-the-barn-door approach?”
Nicole expected the question to trigger another flash, but the Major was now in complete control, and he responded evenly. “Bob, I’m partially responsible for what has happened today. I’ve been dealing with Eric Lloyd as if he were simply a minor skirmish, an irritation on our rear flank. Obviously that’s my mistake. This is an all-out war, and I won’t make the mistake of underestimating him again.”
The editor started to speak, but the Major went on quickly. “We were not able to get a count of how many were in the truck. But as you know, Eric Lloyd and Dr. Cameron removed the implantations from several others prior to the battle at Hungry Horse Dam. It’s possible that some of those—perhaps Lloyd himself—remained in the city. My secretary will furnish you with pictures of all the people who have joined the rebellion thus far. You will begin to publish and circulate the pictures immediately with a warning to all citizens to report any information they have on the whereabouts of these people.” A hand came up, and the Major acknowledged the president of the AFC. “Yes, President Dobson?”
“You said the state of emergency was being declared for all the AFC. Not just Shalev?”
The Major nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. Eleven implantations were also removed in Serenity this afternoon. Thus far, it has not spread beyond that. But we must assume nothing. This is war now. And we are acting accordingly.”
Clayne Robertson rose slowly, bringing a sharp frown to the Major’s face, but he finally nodded toward him. “Yes, Clayne.”
“Sir, why are you implanting our families?”
The Major took a deep breath. “I said the restriction on the media was the saddest decision I had to make. The recommendation for implantation of Guardian personnel and their families was the hardest. But as you know, Clayne, two members of the Guardian staff have defected—Rod Loopes from Central Monitoring, and Joe Jensen this afternoon. When there is no implantation, all a person has to do to beat the system is to cut his wrist computer. This makes it very simple for Guardian members to defect. Since we cannot implant certain key personnel without inhibiting their ability to function as needed, the implantation of family members will discourage any of them from considering foolish alternatives.”
“I see,” Clayne said, not trying very hard to hide the bitterness in his voice.
“Once martial law is lifted, those implantations will be removed.”
“Major Denison?” Estelle Hardy, the mayor, spoke.
“Yes?”
“You said that the Punishment Mode will be applied to people breaking curfew. Surely that is not the same as treason. Is such drastic action really necessary?”
“Mayor Hardy,” the Major said patiently, “these rebels can only function effectively with the help of the citizens—either deliberate help or unsuspecting help. We must isolate them, cut off their ability to move freely about the city.”
He smiled, and Nicole supposed it was meant to be a kindly smile, but in the context of what he was saying, it became grim, almost macabre.
“Actually, for tonight, the first night, we will use only small increments of the voltage, just give them a sharp jolt or two. But—” his voice rose sharply, “thereafter, it will be a very painful experience. And for anyone found helping or abetting the rebels in any way, the Punishment Mode will be the maximum. And that means a very painful death. Please make that very clear to the people. Treason threatens our very society and, therefore, will bring the maximum penalty.”
“Major?” It was Roy Hartford again. He spoke quietly into the hushed silence that followed the statement. “You said all media reports on the crisis had to be cleared by committee. How is this to be done, and how long will it take?”
“Good question. Our intent is to expedite the clearance as much as possible. Captain Travis Oakes will chair the public communications committee. He has personnel already standing by to clear your reports of this meeting immediately after we close.”
Charles Cowles, president of KSHV-TV raised his hand.
“Yes, Chuck.”
“And violation of this media blackout on our parts would also constitute treason. Is that correct?”
The Major’s eyes narrowed into icy blue slits. “Yes, that’s correct. I don’t like to—”
A sudden sharp buzzing filled the room, causing Nicole and everyone else to jump and stare at their wrist computers. They were all buzzing in synchronized rhythm. Nicole stared at the face as a message flowed across it in bright yellow letters.
ATTENTION ALL CITIZENS OF SHALEV. AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT WILL BE SHOWN ON KSHV-TV BEGINNING EXACTLY THREE MINUTES FROM NOW. PLEASE TURN ON YOUR TELEVISIONS AND STAND BY.
Then it began again. ATTENTION ALL CITIZENS—but the Major’s angry roar jerked Nicole’s attention away from her wrist.
“What’s going on?” he shouted. “Chuck! What’s the meaning of this?”
But the president of KSHV-TV was as stunned as anyone in the room. “I don’t know,” he stammered, his face white. “I told them to stand by with normal programming until they heard from me.”
“Who’s sending out unauthorized messages on the wrist computers?” Travis said. “That’s what I want to know.”
Once again the Major demonstrated his ability to take a shock and recover quickly as he began barking orders. “Chuck, there’s a phone there in the corner. Call your station immediately and find out what’s going on. I want whatever announcement they are making stopped until it’s cleared. Travis, get down to Central Monitoring and find out who’s sending out messages to the wrist computers. Clayne, there’s a TV in the training room. Get it up here on the double.”
The buzzing of the wrist computers stopped, leaving the room in hushed silence as Travis and Clayne hurried out the door.
Clayne was the first one back, pushing a television on a cart. He was still in the process of getting it plugged in when Travis burst back into the room. He ran to the Major and whispered urgently into his ear. And for the first time in her life, Nicole heard the Major swear.
“The line is dead,” Cowles called from the corner. “I don’t understand it. I know someone’s there.”
“I understand it,” the Major hissed. “It’s Lloyd again. Shirley Ferguson, one of our monitors in the computer center, is missing. She programmed the announcement into the wrist computers and then fled. We’re looking for her now.”
Shirley! Nicole nearly fell off her chair. Plain, plodding Shirley Ferguson? That was the same as being told that your donkey had just won the AFC Race of Champions. And then Nicole remembered Joe Jensen. He and Shirley—of course. She shook her head, stunned.
“Here it is!” Clayne called as the insipid comedy on the screen went blank. He turned up the sound, and for a moment the soft hiss of static filled the room. Then the face of Mark Van Dam, KSHV-TV news anchorman, appeared on the screen.
“Van Dam!” Cowles shouted. “What’s he doing?”
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Shalev. We interrupt our regular programming to bring you a very special announcement.”
The announcer was easily one of the most widely recognized men in Shalev and immensely popular. But now his face was as somber as Nicole had ever seen it, and tinged with pain. And Nicole understood. His implantation had not been removed, and he was suffering the consequences.
“At eight o’clock this evening, the city of Shalev was put under strict curfew,” Van Dam said, speaking softly. “We have all been wondering what is happening and why. At this very moment, Mr. Charles Cowles, president of KSHV-TV, is in a meeting at Central Control with other media representatives and Curtis Major Denison, commander-in-chief of the Guardians. At this time we can only speculate what is being announced in that meeting, but we feel certain it bodes evil for the citizens of the AFC.”
“I want him stopped,” the Major commanded Travis. “Tell that team to hurry.”
“Listen!” Clayne exclaimed, bringing every eye back to the screen and the face of Mark Van Dam.
“—felt that you, the citizens of Shalev, should fully understand what is going on, we have arranged an exclusive interview with the man who began this whole movement for freedom and who now leads the rebellion against the Guardian forces.” His face twisted, and Nicole could see his lower lip trembling slightly. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to introduce Mr. Eric Lloyd.”
The camera moved back slowly to reveal Eric sitting next to Van Dam. He was dressed in a light blue sports shirt, and his expression was as serious as the anchorman’s. He reached out and gripped Van Dam’s arm, giving him an encouraging nod.
Nicole felt her heart drop. Guardians were speeding to the studio and would be there momentarily.
“Good evening,” Eric said, looking as though he realized he was staring directly into the Major’s eyes. “I bring you greetings from the free people of the AFC.”
“Nicole!”
“Yes, sir.” She jumped, startled by the Major’s sharp call.
“Get on the phone to Central Monitoring. I want a location trace put on Mark Van Dam as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Major.” It was the president of KSHV-TV. “This isn’t live. It’s a videotape.” Nicole looked down quickly, afraid the relief sweeping through her would be evident for anyone to see.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Look at the window behind them. It’s still light outside, probably a little before dusk. I’d say it was shot about two hours ago. They probably started the videotape and then fled.”
“Do it anyway, Nicole. Van Dam’s in on this, and I want him.”
“Yes, sir.” She strode to the phone and dialed quickly. A minute later, as she hung up, she forced a frown. “Mark Van Dam’s been cut loose,” she said. “He and Shirley were cut together near Alliance Square a few minutes ago. They’ve both disappeared. The Monitoring Room was trying to call us, but the line’s been busy.”
The Major swore again and slammed his fist down against the table.
“So he’s done it again,” Travis raged, his fists clenched as he stared at the screen.
Eric went on evenly. “We must talk swiftly, since the Major has undoubtedly already sent his troops out for us. Citizens of Shalev, our intent is not to simply be free, but to free all of you, to overthrow this twisted, sick attempt at paradise that Major Denison and Dr. Gould and the others who stand with them have forced upon you. We hereby declare our implacable opposition to the Major and all he has done here. We do not expect you to come out openly to join us. You saw the Major’s reaction to opposition last week at the soccer stadium. We do not expect you to put your lives or those of your families in jeopardy. But you can help us. Let us move freely among you without betrayal. Let us strike at the Major from within the confines of Shalev and slip away undetected. We can hide from the eyes of the Guardians, but we cannot hide from you and still succeed. We ask only that you become blind for the next few days. For that we shall free you all. That is our pledge.”
“And I pledge to you it shall not be!” the Major shouted.
As though Eric heard the cry, his head suddenly lifted and he stared into the camera. “Major Denison, I know you’re listening, so let me close with a word to you. Hear me well. We feel it only fair that you should do more than simply sit on your orange and blue throne and pronounce lofty judgments upon us and the people who willingly help us. You are the cause of the war; therefore you should not be immune from its effects.”
The room had grown deathly quiet except for Eric’s voice, and every eye stared at his face on the screen.
“At first we toyed with the idea of sending a Punishment Mode to your wrist computer. That would be poetic justice, I suppose.”
The Major visibly started, and the eyes of the group swung to him.
“But strangely enough, what you deem necessary for your subjects, you yourself decline to share. You have no Punishment Mode in your wrist computer, do you, Major. And yet,” Eric went on, “you can’t be left untouched when it’s your claws that tear at the vitals of this people.” Eric brought his hand up in a mock salute. “So, Major, we bring the battle to you.”
Suddenly Eric disappeared, and for several moments the screen went dark. No one in the room spoke, but several glanced furtively in the Major’s direction. Then the screen flashed on again. It was obviously nighttime, and a huge, well-lit house, surrounded by what appeared to be acres of lawn and gardens, could be seen dimly. The camera was badly out of focus, and the details were heavily blurred.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” It was Eric’s voice again. “Mr. Van Dam has gone downtown to have his implantation removed and has not yet joined us. He asked that I continue without him. We are now broadcasting live. I am here at the outskirts of the city, standing at the edge of the thick lawn that marks the beginning of the palatial estate of one of Shalev’s foremost citizens.
“Most people in Shalev have never seen this view, since the estate is walled off and hidden in a thick stand of trees.” Eric spoke slowly and clearly, as though doing a documentary for a group of school children. And then the cameraman began to bring the house slowly into focus.
Before it reached full clarity, the Major gave a sharp cry. “That’s my home!” For one long moment he stared, his eyes wide; then he spun around and darted out the door, Travis hard on his heels.
“Perhaps Major Denison has recognized where we are by now,” Eric said, as the stately French Provincial home finally came into sharp focus. “We’re at the edge of the estate of Dr. Curtis Major Denison, commander-in-chief of the Guardian Forces in the Alliance of Four Cities.”
“Major,” Eric said, stepping into view in front of the camera, “your wife is here with me. She has not been nor will she be harmed. I suppose it would be to our advantage to take her hostage, hold her for some concessions, but she’s an innocent bystander in this affair and therefore should be exempt from the war. Your maid and cook have likewise been escorted out.”
The camera swung around to reveal three women. One was dressed in a long, white, silk pantsuit with her hair swept back off her face, and Nicole recognized Mrs. Denison immediately. The other two cowered close to her, dressed in robes and slippers.
“Oh, yes,” Eric said as the camera revealed three still figures stretched out on the ground, each clad in an orange and blue uniform, “and the three Guardians you left here to watch things are likewise safe, though sleeping peacefully at the present.
“We have no desire to hurt innocent people, only to let you know of our intent to bring you down.” He turned his back to the camera to face the home and lifted his hand. For one moment it was poised there, like an ax over a chopping block; then it dropped.
With a shattering roar, the front of Major Denison’s beautiful French Provincial mansion bulged outward and then exploded into a thousand thousand pieces as an orange-yellow ball of flame burst out of its puny confinement. The roof lifted up, then settled down on the billowing blast of flames, flattening them as they swept outward.
Even as she stared, Nicole felt Central Control shudder, and the windows of the conference room rattled softly. She and the others ran to the windows and threw back the drapes. High up, near the base of the mountain that formed Shalev’s western flank, a tiny ball of orange light flickered upward, pushing back the darkness around it.
Behind her, Nicole heard the television speaker. It was Eric’s voice, and he spoke only two words. “Goodnight, Major.”
Chapter 30
It was nearly two-thirty in the morning when Travis came down the deserted halls of the fourth floor suite of offices and knocked softly on the Major’s door, then slipped inside when he heard the muffled command to enter.
The Major sat behind his desk, looking as fresh and tireless as if he had just risen from a long night’s sleep. His suit and tie were still immaculate. Sometime since the shattering loss of his home, he had taken time to shave. Travis shook his head wearily as he sat down, rubbing at the stubble on his own jaw. He felt rumpled, strung out, and ready for a shower and bed.