Peace in an Age of Metal and Men

by Anthony Eichenlaub

  “What are you here for, Crow?” He leaned forward in his chair. “You just here to reminisce?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then what?”

  “Need your help.”

  He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward some more. “Maybe you misunderstand the nature of our relationship.”

  I shook my head. “Believe me, Tuck. If I could leave you out of this, I would.”

  “Well, you’re going to walk away disappointed, then.” He stood up and stretched. “You’re looking at my life here. I don’t help people just for asking.”

  “Sure, but I have something you might be interested in doing.”

  “Spit it out.”

  “I want your help robbing a bank.”

  By the time he stopped laughing, I’d finished my beer and got halfway through a second. I told him everything that had happened in the past few days, from Zane’s first visit to my little talk with Court. When I told him about the coyotes that I’d seen, his face got real serious.

  “They ain’t right,” he said. “Them things are dangerous.”

  I thought back to the coyotes that looked like they were trying to get into Josephine’s junkyard. “How dangerous?”

  “They’re smart. Big too.” He bit his lip with crooked teeth. “Smart enough not to get into any traps I’ve put out, but I’ve seen them around. They’ve been close.”

  I nodded. “I saw tell near Overpass too. Bunch of them were up on a bridge over the town. More genetic modifications, I figure. Somebody let a population get out and we deal with the fallout.”

  Tucker grunted, took a big gulp of beer, and belched.

  “So,” I said after another minute. “Are you in?”

  “What’d you get from the gang?”

  I dug out my glow cube and pulled up the list of supplies. The image quivered in the air and it took me a minute to figure out that it was my hand shaking, not the cube. Tucker stared at the image for a minute, a grin spreading as he did.

  “You have yourself a deal, Sheriff.”

  “I’m not a sheriff anymore, Tuck.”

  “No,” he said. “No, you sure as shit are not.”

  Chapter 17

  The sun’s heat ravaged the ground below, but above, where the sky stretched forever, the air was cool. The world was at peace. With the skidder’s new bubble activated, the sharp chill couldn’t penetrate. I was alone without loneliness. It was serenity with none of the restlessness that comes with life. Nobody depended on me for justice or peace.

  Loneliness had always been a part of me down below. It was only in the sky, truly alone, that I understood how that loneliness pressed on me. Shaped me. Even as a sheriff, when I was the heartbeat of a living, thriving community, lonesomeness ruled over me. I never had a real connection with another person. Maybe the war made me unable to connect with people. Maybe my mutilation made me too ashamed to try to connect with anyone who would care for me.

  What would it feel like, not being alone?

  Men of violence are always alone. Texas wasn’t ever peaceful, far as I could tell. A gun or a fist were always worth more than a word and a pen. After the war, when I was a lawman, it was my gun that held the peace. My gun was the one that brought justice to hundreds of criminals and gangsters. But was it right? Was holding the people to some rules by force really doing anyone any good? Life used to seem so simple. Shoot the criminals; save the victims.

  Except, nowadays everyone was a criminal. Everyone was a victim.

  I’d left my gun at home because there just wasn’t any way I could justify shooting anyone. I’d shot a mother in front of her kid. Sure, she was mixed up in some bad stuff. Sure, she was going to kill someone if I didn’t act.

  She didn’t deserve death any more than anybody else. But she got it.

  The gun at my hip weighed on me. I’d given up shooting, but here I was carrying a gun again. I could have dropped it from the sky. Something made me hold onto it. Maybe it was fear or an old habit, but the gun felt right at my side, even if I didn’t plan on using it. Maybe it made me feel less alone.

  According to Ben Brown, his brother Francis had gone missing. Francis had contacted me, and even if I didn’t know where he was, I might be able to help. The Brown ranch was below, just as I remembered it. A stout farmhouse jutted out of the dry earth, and a short distance away the enormous cattle barn sat in the red earth like a black, cancerous lump. The place was surrounded by squat black windmills, collecting power from the sharp wind and searing sun of the Texas climate—two resources that were in ample supply.

  I drifted down, making for a spot near the barn where I could see a dark form working amongst the dry grass. As I got closer I could see that it was Ben, no longer the kid I knew, but bigger. Harder. He was tall, nearly as tall as myself. Ben was independence and rebellion shoehorned by circumstance into the drab routine of life. His mohawk was spiked and metallic. The black poncho that he wore seemed to shift with a will of its own. His left hand was a finely crafted steel limb, which he used to direct several humming drones. His jaw was set as he worked, as if he were pushing himself forward through sheer force of will.

  “J.D.,” he said without turning to face me. “Thought you’d forgotten about me.”

  My skidder lit gently on the dry ground, thrusters igniting the dry grass. I hopped off and used my metal hand to smother the fire before it could become dangerous.

  Ben waved his hand to send a couple drones south across the sea of windmills. “Go home, old man,” he said.

  I patted my pockets looking for a cigarette, but didn’t find one. Instead, I plucked a piece of grass and stuck it in my mouth.

  He turned to look at me. “Well?”

  “Seems to me you still need help.”

  “Not from you.” He waved his hand again and a couple more drones zipped away. “I called you days ago. Days.”

  I grunted. “Came as soon as I could.”

  “Great.” He stepped up and put a finger on my chest. “Leave as soon as you can too, then we’ll be even.”

  Shaking my head, I leaned back on my skidder. “Wanna tell me what’s happening first?”

  “No.” He bit his lip. “Well, kinda.” Waving a hand, he sent the last two drones to the east. “Hell, I’ve got nobody else. Francis is gone and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “What about your big brother? What about the rest of your family?” When I’d last seen the Brown family there were more siblings than I cared to count.

  “Gone.” His shoulders slumped. “Jason took the rest of them away to live in Austin. Said it wasn’t safe to have them way the hell out here.”

  I nodded.

  “Not with Francis, anyway.”

  That got my interest. “What makes you say that?”

  “Francis hasn’t ever been right in the head, but since Ma died he’s been…”

  “Worse.”

  “Yeah. Not a lot at first. Mostly just quiet. Six months ago, he suddenly got interested in some of the old junk in the barn.” Ben kicked a metal harness, and it scattered into pieces across the cracked dirt. “That’s why I’m going through this stuff. Something in here might give me a clue as to what he’s up to.”

  A hot breeze rose and tugged at my hat. My lips were dry and cracked, thirsty from all the work I’d done in the past couple days. Still, I felt bad for not visiting Ben sooner. He needed help and I’d ignored his pleas. I picked up one of the pieces of the harness, wincing at the pain the movement caused me. Ben’s eyes lost focus and a light flashed in them. He bit his lip at what he saw, but didn’t say anything.

  “Why do you do that?” I asked.

  “Do what?”

  Gesturing at his whole body, I said, “All of that. Arms, hair, eyes, ears. Every time I see you there’s less of you to see.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “We do what we do to get ahead.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Or at least keep up.”

  “You do it ’cause everyone els
e does.”

  “Something like that.” His eyes flashed again, and he smiled. “It’s better, though, you know. I mean, you got your arm. Don’t you think it works better than flesh and bone? It’s just science, man. Full upgrade all the way through.”

  I looked at my massive metal arm. “I hate this damn thing.”

  “Do you?”

  “It’s not the same as what you got. You got a choice. When you upgraded it was because you looked at what was out there and you wanted it.”

  “I was a stupid kid sometimes, but yeah.”

  “Mine was done to me by people I thought I trusted with the sole purpose of making me a better soldier.”

  “So, replace it.” He held up his metal hand and wiggled his fingers. If they didn’t shine in the sunlight, it might be hard to tell that they were fake. “Modernize.”

  “That’s just it, though. Once you get into that upgrade loop you’re stuck in it. Better arm might be nice, but how long till I want better hearing or eyesight.” I pulled off my hat and ran my fingers through my hair. “Better hair.”

  He seemed to consider that for a moment. “End is the same, though, isn’t it, whether you choose it or not? You accept what you are or you don’t. Seems like you don’t.”

  “Did Francis accept what he was?”

  “Nobody but nobody understood what was going on in my brother’s head.”

  “Is it possible he met someone six months ago?” I asked. “Could someone have finally figured him out?”

  “Dunno.” Ben hesitated, like he was considering his words carefully. “He’d always been pretty secretive. He’d be on his optics pretty much all the time messing around with the tech. I tried to stop him a few times. I’m supposed to be in charge, right?” He looked to me like he wanted an answer, but I didn’t give one. “Well, it didn’t go well. He fought. Little guy’s fierce too. You ever met someone stubborn as you, J.D.?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, you should give Francis a look. He’s got some chops.”

  “So he stayed on the optics?”

  “Yeah. And I didn’t have the heart to just shut them down. So, he could have been in contact with anyone. His tech was top notch. Ma always got him all the best stuff right from the start.” Ben pulled a cheroot from a hidden compartment in his metal hand and lit it using a flame that snapped up from his thumb. He nodded at the house and started walking in that direction.

  I followed. “So he might have contacted someone out there. You think there might be foul play? Was he kidnapped?”

  “Maybe.” He shook his head. “I don’t think so, but maybe.”

  We walked in silence for a minute before something clicked in my thick skull. Ben was hiding something. There was some piece of the puzzle he was holding back. “Francis contacted me yesterday,” I said. “He wanted to show me something.”

  Ben seemed more worried at this. “Can you call him back?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I can figure. He covered up the call so when I call back it doesn’t go anywhere.”

  “He wanted to show you something, but didn’t give you a way to get back to him?”

  “That about figures it.”

  “See, it’s things like this. He’s been more and more erratic like this for a while now.”

  “He’s a kid.”

  “He’s a smart kid. Really smart.” Ben took a drag on his cheroot.

  “Tracking a tech trail isn’t really my thing. Why call me and not the sheriff?”

  “I think you know.”

  “You think he’s into something illegal. You don’t want him sent away.”

  Ben nodded.

  We reached the house. Ben poured two glasses of lemonade from a chilled carafe sitting on a small table on the porch. He offered me one and I gladly downed it. The drink was sweet and tart, and the icy chill swept through me in a wave of relief. It was just what I needed.

  “So, what do you say?” Ben was looking at me with stubborn defiance. It was hard for him to ask for help. If he was coming to me, then I suspected there wasn’t anywhere else he could turn.

  “Yeah, I’ll help.” I held up the harness I’d picked up earlier. “But you have to tell me what this does.”

  He studied my face for a minute, then looked down at the harness. “I don’t know.”

  I held it up, spreading it out with my huge metal hand. “See the shape of it?”

  “Horse?”

  “Yeah.” I handed it to him. “What’s all this tech good for on a horse?”

  He squinted at it. “It’s neural tech, but I’ll need to mess with it to figure out how it works.”

  “Do it,” I said. “And I’ll help you find Francis.”

  “You were going to help, anyway.”

  He was right. There was a weariness behind his eyes that made me think of how harsh life had been to him. It made me wish I could be there for him, help him out more. But I hadn’t done anything for him. Four years ago, he had been the rebel of the family. He could have left once tragedy hit. He didn’t. I’d help him find his brother if I could.

  “He’s out there.” I slapped Ben on the back. “We’ll find him, Ben, but right now I have someplace I need to be.”

  “Where?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  Chapter 18

  As the scarlet sun kissed the western horizon, I closed the solar panel in my arm. The battery wasn’t charged up enough, but it would have to do. I leaned back against the wrong way sign outside of the Swallow Hill dead zone. Josephine’s floating tank loomed back in the ruins next to the black asphalt of the ancient road. My skidder and Zane’s car sat next to it, barely squeezing into the secluded area.

  “It won’t hurt,” Zane said.

  “It’ll probably sting a little,” Abi said. She punched me in the shoulder, then winced as if it hurt her hand. “You can handle it, though.”

  “You sure this needs to be done?” I asked.

  Zane looked annoyed at the question, which wasn’t surprising since it was probably the twentieth time I’d asked it. “Yes. It’s the only way to collect enough information to put an end to this.”

  Abi smirked at me. “It’s not a big deal. It’s only one side, so you’ll still be able to see everything all normal-like.”

  I looked at her. “Why are you here?”

  She bit her lip. “Auntie said I could—”

  “She didn’t, did she?”

  “Implied that I could help.” Abi held up a can of spray paint. “Nothing dangerous, see?” With that, she darted away, moving down to the edge of the dead zone.

  The coin sat in my palm, its little tendril wriggling. I couldn’t believe what I was going to do, but Ben was right. There was a choice. That made all the difference. Zane’s earpiece was an upgrade, but it was a minor one. It would come out when I wanted it to—if I wanted it to—and the information it gathered could be critical. Zane wasn’t going to be able to track down who was behind Swallow Hill until he was able to upload some data from the actual town.

  “It’s harmless.” Zane tapped his own ear. “Everyone has one these days, and this one is proven technology. Nothing crazy about it.”

  “Doesn’t look harmless.”

  “Neither do you.” Zane smiled at me with his quirky grin. “Just stick it in your ear.”

  I stuck it in my ear. Nothing happened.

  “It’s backwards.”

  I pulled the device out and looked at it. The flattened metal looked benign enough, but the wire sticking out of one side was intimidating. I flipped it around and stuck it in my ear, wire side in.

  The tendril wiggled and probed around, tickling me as it searched out my inner ear. The metal coin pressed itself in firmly, shaping itself as it fit closer and closer.

  Then there was pain. A sharp pop rang in my ear, followed by a rushing sound of fluid. Twin needles dug deep into my skull under the earpiece. I clawed at it, trying to pull it loose, but it wouldn’t budge. It was buried too
deep. The needles turned to snakes, streaming under my skin. One dug down to my jaw and one to my right eye. Each feathered out in a wave of tiny pricks. My right eye went blind.

  Gasping, I blinked and stared at the ground. I was on my hands and knees, though I didn’t remember dropping. The pain eased into a throbbing warmth, then to nothing. Each breath rushed like a tornado through my head. Vision returned to my eye.

  “Well, it might sting a little,” Zane said.

  “They’re late.” Tucker was behind us. His voice boomed through my skull.

  I twisted around, wrenching my bad ribs. Tucker was standing there in black fatigues with two rifles strapped to his back and a bandoleer of grenades dangling across his belly. He tossed a black backpack to the ground. There was no evidence that he had arrived in a vehicle. He seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

  “They’ll be here,” I said. My own voice felt like it was piercing holes in my right eardrum. I stood up and faced Tucker, but the quick movement made me nauseated. The world seemed to spin and my right eye dodged in and out of focus.

  Zane put a hand on my shoulder. “Give it a minute, J.D.”

  “If they don’t show, then I ain’t going.” Tucker spat on the ground. “We had a deal.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Abi approaching. The image in my right eye zoomed in on her face, flickered her name on the display, and performed all manner of irritating distractions. No wonder nobody ever paid attention when people spoke.

  Tucker lowered his voice to a growl. “Maybe you’re wasting my time, J.D. Maybe I’ll just get paid by pushing over your money man.”

  My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

  “Maybe I’ll take that heap of spare parts your girl brought and see what it’s worth on the open market.”

  “Hey!” Abi stepped up next to us. “That’s not yours to take.”

  Tucker gave her a wolfish grin. “Looks like salvage to me.”

  Abi’s jaw worked. Apparently unable to find sufficient words, she threw an empty paint can at his head. He ducked to avoid it.

  “I missed this, old boy,” he said to me amid guffaws. “You’ve made some great friends, partner.”