“What are you doing down there?” roared the Speaker at his podium. He pounded his fist on the top twice. “Find a way to stop it and start getting our people back into their pods.”
A faint warble of a voice emanated from the podium.
Kuroyama screamed at a middle-aged man with spiky black hair and military armor on a monitor in front of him. “You’re telling me that all of the equipment has failed at once? Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”
“Stalemate?” yelled the Speaker, at whoever he had on video chat. “What do you mean the soldiers are refusing to fire? They’re traitors, not citizens!”
Whitford, the not-quite-fifty looking man with brown hair, cleared his throat while pointing at something on his section of the giant desk. “A combined force of ISF and military are approaching the council chambers.”
“There are still some loyal men out there.” Gerhardt stopped rubbing her forehead and sat straighter. “Vogel, put something together to counteract that media kit. Make them understand we are acting in their best interest.”
The Speaker’s face reddened. “Do you not think I haven’t been trying? I’ve sent four speeches to the distribution cluster, and each time it begins playing, that same young woman appears telling them the truth. These people can’t be trusted with the truth. They don’t understand the danger.”
Shouting from outside became apparent beyond the far wall.
“Perhaps it is time for us to consider relocating to somewhere less conspicuous,” said Director Khan.
“And go where?” Gerhardt glared at her. “The entire Enclave is currently engulfed in the throes of chaos. Are you so eager to head off into the wasteland?”
Khan gasped and fanned herself. “You cannot be serious. It’s not fit for human habitation.”
Oh, fuck this.
Kevin swept the curtain aside and stepped out. “Am I late for bingo?”
The Council of Four froze as if time had stopped―except for Khan who screamed and clutched her chest.
Tarl and the others crept out behind him. Alex gave him a ‘huh’ face.
“Bingo… it’s a game old people play.” Kevin chuckled. “I have no idea how it works, but I know old people play it. Sometimes they jump up and yell bingo.” He pumped his fists overhead. “Sometimes they pee themselves… you know, old people.”
Director Whitford coughed and looked insulted.
“Okay, people.” Kevin clapped. “Oh, I’m forgetting something.” He pulled the Enclave pistol and almost pointed it at them. “There. Now that I have your attention… I think it’s time for you to take a good look at the situation.”
“Who do you think you are?” asked the Speaker, invoking a deep bass voice that might’ve frightened a boy… or someone who gave a shit.
“Me? I’m just some asshole from the Wildlands who’s sick and fucking tired of dodging goddamned zombies.” He raised his left hand as if about to swear an oath. “I know, I know… They’re not technically dead. You think that matters to a little girl watchin’ her whole city turn against itself?”
“You are from the Wildlands?” asked Gerhardt. Her severe presence eased a bit with genuine surprise before she recovered herself and glowered at him as if her words could kill. “How did you get in here?”
“Same way you were about to go out. Handy little elevator. The wet bar was a nice touch.” He smiled. “So, here’s the truth… and I know the five of you ain’t really on speaking terms with the truth, but I’m gonna try anyway. Your virus… all gone. Burned that shit myself. Five thousand degree incinerator. No more exterminating the innocent. Your people? Yeah, we kinda let ’em out. Doesn’t seem to me like they’re too happy being stuck in the freezer like leftovers.”
“Why are you officers standing there doing nothing?” bellowed the Speaker. “Remove that man.”
“Well, for one thing”―Tarl took a step forward, his rifle held sideways across his chest―“the law doesn’t explicitly give the Council the legal authority to murder at will. Two, you don’t actually have any authority or political power. You’re a mouthpiece; you don’t give anyone orders. Three, we saw the drone footage of those settlements. Agent-94’s been wiping out innocent settlers for years. That ain’t what any of us signed on for.”
Fear showed in the faces of the council, except Gerhardt, who held herself calm, though her slightly narrowed eyes suggested she schemed, or perhaps considered.
“A friend of mine went and got herself lost around town. Tryin’ to find her, and we kinda made a wrong turn and wound up here. But…” Kevin grinned. “Since I’m here, I might as well at least say hello to the people who cooked up the idea to spray that shit around. Thanks for the nightmares and stuff by the way. Haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I was small. Now I gotta kid to take care of who watched her whole damn city implode on itself with paranoia. They shot her father right in front of her. I gotta look into those wide brown eyes every damn night and come up with something to say that makes sense when she asks me why people would do such a thing…”
“Traitors, all of you!” shouted the Speaker at the ISF men. He jabbed a button on the podium. “Get in here now, we’ve―”
Kevin shot the podium, causing an eruption of sparks that made the older man jump back. “I’m still searching for the reason why I haven’t just fucking ended all of you…” He touched two fingers to his forehead for a second and flicked his hand at them. “Damn, you know sometimes that ‘humanity’ thing gets in the way.”
“What do you want?” asked Gerhardt, sounding calm.
“Mostly, I want to find my girl and go the hell home and live in a world without having to watch the friggin’ sky all the time for zombie juice… or worry about what kind of marauders are running around hopped up on synthetic narcotics and slingin’ around weapons you people are throwing out there.” He pointed the gun at the grey-haired woman. “Tell me one thing. Do you really believe the world is disease-ridden and unfit to live in, or do you like killing people for the fuck of it?”
“Uhh, he’s pointing a gun at Director Gerhardt,” whispered the teenaged ISF officer. “Should we stop him?”
“There are reports indicating that several new strains of pathogen have developed as a result of unexpected interactions with gamma and beta radiation.” Gerhardt stared at him, hands on her knees, her tone as even as if she spoke to an old friend who didn’t have a gun trained on her face. “Our people have lived in isolation for so long it seemed only logical to eliminate dangerous tribes of nomadic scavengers.”
“You’re actually talking to this caveman?” yelled the Speaker.
Kuroyama grumbled to himself before shaking his head. “We have other things to worry about now than making the world clean.”
“Clean?” Kevin switched to aim at him. “You call a biological weapon attack that has claimed hundreds of thousands… probably more, lives… cleaning?”
“The information we had suggested less than two thousand.” Gerhardt looked down at her lap. “We thought them all… what is the word you use? Raiders? Slavers? Killers? Savages… People whom the world would be better off without.”
Kevin clenched his jaw. “There’s a couple of those kinda people right here.”
The Speaker scoffed. “Indeed.”
Gerhardt shot the old man a warning look. “By the time the reconnaissance drone program had developed to the point where more accurate intelligence became available to us, the agent was already loose. I ordered the program stopped once I learned the true… scope.”
“It’s still going on.” Kevin glared. “They hit Amarillo only months ago. Who knows how many others?”
“What?” Gerhardt looked up, shocked. “Months ago? I never authorized a launch of live agent.”
“That was probably our ol’ friend Nathan.” Kevin scowled. “Still going after Tris.”
Gerhardt’s jaw shifted and her glare hardened. “I gave that man a direct order.”
“What does it mat
ter?” asked the Speaker. “Fewer tribals to remove later on. This fiasco has cost us decades. Our population won’t be able to thrive out there at current levels. We need at least another ten thousand.”
Tribals? He squeezed the pistol grip, making his hand shake. “We did a number on your computer thingee. There’s no going back. As Tris would say, it’s time to open the doors and join the world.”
“Absolutely not!” roared the Speaker. “Again, I say, why are we still talking with this cretin? We cannot allow the taint of the outside world in.”
“Agreed,” said Kuroyama.
“It’s too dangerous.” Khan nodded.
Whitford glanced at Kevin with a contemplative look, but kept quiet.
Gerhardt pursed her lips as if in thought.
“Right now, our priorities need to be getting our citizens back where they are safe”―the Speaker gesticulated at the smoking podium―“and repairing the damage these savages have unleashed.”
Director Gerhardt stared down her nose at the Speaker, a hint of a smile showing. “If they’re such savages, how have they managed to turn our entire computer system against us?”
The Speaker’s face reddened further. “We have spent the past thirty years working to ensure that humanity continues into the future. I will not sit back and tolerate talk of abandoning all we’ve worked for. There is no discussion. There is no negotiation.”
Kevin glanced at the gun. Tris’ voice in the back of his mind pleaded with him not to kill a helpless old man. “You’ve been working for bullshit. Opening the gate is your only option now… unless you’re willing to kill more than half your people.” He gestured at Gerhardt. “And this one almost had a damn stroke over Nathan getting a handful of soldiers killed.”
“Enough!” roared the Speaker. “You are in the Enclave. We are the future of Earth. You do not even deserve to be breathing the same air―”
Bang!
The Speaker’s head exploded in a shower of gore.
Kevin raised an arm to shield from the spatter while ducking and hopping to the side. “Fucking hell…” He glanced at the front end of the room.
Above the rows of empty seats, in the middle of a pair of wobbling double doors, stood Tris.
Holding a smoking rifle.
“I’ve wanted to shut that guy up since I was nine…” She lowered the rifle and marched down the aisle, followed by a naked woman who could’ve been her somewhat older sister. “He never stops talking, and he’s frickin’ everywhere.”
Tris! Kevin rushed to the right, ducking around Gerhardt’s chair and heading down a short stairway to meet her at the base of the auditorium.
In the shadow of the Council’s tall desk, he wrapped his arms around her and held on; she kept her rifle trained on the four elders. The angle lined his gaze up with a pair of bare breasts on the woman behind her.
He blinked. “Is that a Persephone? Oh, and don’t mind those ISF guys… they’re with us.”
“Yep,” said Tris. “Nathan thought it would be ironic for me to kill myself.”
34
The Future of Humanity
Tris held back the need to cling to Kevin and forget the world existed. She glared at the Council, finding them far less intimidating than they’d been when she thought they lived in the center of the Core City surrounded by thousands of soldiers. In person, they seemed so fragile.
“Okay. Now we can talk.” Tris stared at Gerhardt. “I’m a little emotional right now, so if I accidentally shoot someone else in the face, don’t take it personally.”
Kuroyama pointed at the Persephone. “Android, by order of the Council, kill these invaders.”
“I’m sorry, Director Kuroyama.” The Persephone stood statue still. “A command has been processed at a higher security level that is in direct contradiction. I am unable to comply.”
“What?” He blinked. “What is going on here?”
“My father was Doctor Ian Jameson… you know, the crazy old man who invented them. Apparently, he didn’t want his inventions being used against him. Or his family. Persephone, if any of them try to give you a command again, please tear off a random arm and beat them to death with it.”
“Command accepted,” said the android. “Please clarify if you prefer true random or pseudorandom limb selection.”
The Council all shifted in their seats.
“How did you get in here?” blurted Director Khan.
Tris grinned. “Watching a Persephone throw a man through a concrete wall convinced the soldiers they might be on the wrong team… now where was I?”
Kevin leaned close and whispered, “Why is this one talking like Bee, but the one I ran into with the Redeemed acted like a person?”
She smiled. “I haven’t told her to load a personality matrix yet. She’s more intimidating that way. Later. I want to go the hell home.”
“Right.” He took a step away for some room and kept his pistol ready.
“Gerhardt… I’m sure you know that the Enclave is not equipped to support its true population as you’ve got things set up. Nice fake out on the Core City by the way… I really believed it.” She exhaled a somber sigh. “We’re all kinda circling the drain right now. There’s a good chance that maybe humans were meant to die off. When we pushed the proverbial button and burned down the sky, we pretty well screwed ourselves. Maybe forty years from now, there won’t be anyone left no matter what we do. And if the Enclave is working against the rest of humanity, it’s not a question―we will die out.”
The ISF officers moved closer, standing as if holding the Council under guard.
Tris glanced at them. “As it was before today, the Enclave only hurried this along. People out there, they didn’t want to give up. They tried. They established settlements, created trade routes, farms… an attempt at civilization. We had no right to destroy them simply for not being privileged enough to have been born inside these walls.
“Are there bandits, raiders, slavers, and people who deserve to die out there? Sure. It’s not like those hist… I mean movies made it look like. There’s maybe one slaver for every three hundred settlers, and that’s probably overestimating. It seems worse because they band together.”
“And you fuckers help them,” said Kevin. “Sending them weapons, drugs like Void Salt, vehicles… trying to kick us into the ground all that much faster.”
Gerhardt tapped her finger on the desk, glancing away and down. Kuroyama continued to stare at the Persephone as if he expected it to shoot him any second. Khan trembled in her chair.
Whitford leaned back, hands flat on the desk. “What are you proposing we do?”
The noise of rioting outside grew louder.
“Like I said, there’s a chance nothing will matter. Maybe the war, the virus, and greed have already killed us all. But… if the Enclave helps rebuild, it could be different. If you use the technology we’ve preserved and improved on in the fifty-one years since the war… we might actually survive. I’ve been out there. There’s no mutant diseases. We’re not going to choke to death on the air or drop dead as soon as we eat something not grown in a hydroponic tank. It’s all bullshit. Question is, did you make up the bullshit or do you believe it too?”
“Dust hoppers are kinda a mutant,” whispered Kevin. “I don’t think they had seventy pound rabbits before the war.”
An uneasy noise leaked from Director Khan’s stomach.
“The people within these walls can help humanity get on its feet.” Tris looked back and forth among them.
“What if we disagree?” asked Gerhardt.
“Either the Council disbands. Or”―she aimed at Gerhardt―“you all atone for the people the Enclave has murdered.”
“And,” said Dad-AI from ceiling-mounted speakers. “I will permanently disable the reactor, which will force you to move into the world and find a new source of power. I doubt quite sincerely that even Amarillo has enough solar panels to meet your current energy demands.”
Gerhard
t chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m surprised you’re not demanding to take over.”
Tris walked left, up three steps to the dais, and stopped at Gerhardt’s side. “That’s never what I wanted. I don’t know what Nathan told you about me, or what you assumed about me based on what you feared my father had planned, but I’m not after power. Nothing I did was ever motivated by a desire to be in charge. I wanted a life of my own, not be told who I can or can’t love, not be shut in a giant human hamster cage. The Enclave… or whatever it will become in the next few weeks, is humanity’s best chance to continue and maybe even get back some quality of life.”
Khan mumbled to herself. Her expression said she wanted to object, but the woman either lacked a compelling argument or the nerve to voice it. Kuroyama glared at Tris with barely contained hostility. If not for the rifles hovering around him―and a Persephone waiting to rip someone’s arm off―he’d likely have attacked her, or at least slapped her by now.
“The Council’s power is over,” said Tris. “The Enclave needs to change… and the war against innocent people must stop.”
35
Cleansing
Tris glanced down the length of the rifle at Gerhardt’s chest. After a little over a minute of silent staring, she shifted so the weapon pointed in a neutral direction. “Well?”
“We still don’t have enough information about the dangers of the outside,” said Gerhardt, her voice weak, defeated.
“It’s exaggerated,” said Tris. “Your predecessor wanted a ‘perfect society’ ruled by an iron fist.”
“You’ve been deceived, child.” Gerhardt looked up at her, weary steel-grey eyes struggling to project sympathy. “Your father is the one who invented the virus you so passionately despise. He was the founder of the Enclave. Everything that’s happened here has been his plan all along.”
“Helena,” said Dad-AI. “If you’re going to feed my daughter bullshit, at least have the decency to serve good bullshit.”
The Roadhouse Chronicles (Book 3): Dead Man's Number Page 43
