by Ahern, Jerry
KohL without raising his head, but opening his eyes, said, “So, you have seen the place, John. Everywhere, you are enshrined, but what you stood for is debased.”
“Martin Zanmer,’ Natalia whispered, just shaking her head. “When the young American from Mid-Wake diedmmyarrm, he said the word “cry”, or at feast I thought he did.”
“From what we liave been able to oetermine,“Kon^ at last looking up, *% would have been possible for the man you followed almost
onehundred twenty-five years ago, mis-” He closed his eyes, looked atthe room’s ceiling as though consulting a notebook, opened his eyes againand continued, ”His name was Armand Gruber, yes?” Natalia nodded.
“Whatwe have learned by sifting through computer records, indicates that Gruber could have had access to German and Mid-Wake research in cryogenics. The original Zimmer was a man well ahead ofhis time. Whenhedied, most ofthe knowledge ofhis micro-surgery procedures and his research in genetic surgery went to the grave with him. It would not be stretching credibility to assume that if he had the basics given to him, Zimmer could have duplicated the cryogenic chambers and the all-important serum, have somehow survived.”
“Itcouldn’t be because we saw his body,” Paul asserted. “And even if he could have riggedthat in some way, there was his retina print. You said yourself that it couldn’t have been faked.”
“IfBob Jessup was trying to say the word “cryogenics” instead of “cry,” Natalia began.
“Whatabout the brother theory?” Michael asked.
“TheDNA typing could, indeed, have been acWevedthrough murdering his brother. Zimmer had one, who was also a Nazi, and there are no records of Zimmer’s brother ever being arrested or any grave found for him. But that still leaves us with the eye,” Kohl said. “Dam-nit”.
JamesDarkwood stopped pacing. “I read the autopsy reports concerning Zimmer and Dodd. We know that Dodd’s was faked, of course, because Dodd resurfaced in the aftermath of President Kurinami’s death, telling some wild story about Zimmer kidnapping him and putting in a ringer for him, then the ringer and Zimmer getting killed.”
“Youstill have the eye,” Annie said, standing up, stabbing her hands along her thighs, looking for pockets, John Rourke surmised. But the attire worn by Eden women-essentially indentical to clothes worn in the1960s - didn’t include pockets because it fit so tightiy. Her dress was shockingly short, he thought. Even though she was a married woman, she was still his daughter. “The eye thing is impossible to duplicate.”
JamesDarkwood looked at her and smiled. “What if he actually sac-t rificed his own eye? The other eye was missing. Zimmer was a crack | shot, the records say, a rifleman. Manfred found a photograph that j showedZimmer firmg right-handed. He a)d^ handed and had a left master eye, butnotarifle. What if he felt proving
hisown deam actually merited tte^
micro-surgery,right? We can clone a human eye today and replace it. Maybe he could do it then, or figured the process would be an inevitable devekaomerl re couWwah for.”
JohnRourke just Listened. Who was Martin Zimmer? That was the real question. All the rest about Deitrich Zimmer and his missing eyeball, about cryogenics, all of that was essential, but could wait.
MartinZimmer was building an arsenal of chemical and energy weapons that could unleash devastation that might parallel the Night of The War. He had the largest standing army in the world. And no nation on earth could stand up to him because he already had nuclear weapons-the ones from the Defense Recovery Emergency Armed Deterrent program, or D.R.E.A.D. Reportedly, even before those were deployed, he was already budding more of the same, only the tactical nuclear kind, batdefieki superiority weapons.
Tohave challenged the build-up, to have threatened interdiction might have forced Martin Zimmer to launch the old D. R.E.A.D weapons. In a century-and a quarter, the environment was considerably restored, but soil sufEcfently fragile that Eden’s capabilities under Martin Zimmer could have brought about arrrtihilation of the species.
Hisarmies and air forces were poised, ready.
Andno one knew his race.
“Whatare you thinking, Daddy?”
JohnRourke is the thin, dark tobacco cigar in the blue-yellow flame of his old baoered Zippo. When they were awakened, the Zippo was among Michael’s things. Michael returned it to him. He looked at his daughter, smiled, said. “About how litde things really change.”
ManfredKohl cleared his throat “If we announce your return, John, with the way m which Martin Zimmer has virtually deified you, the people of Eden would-“
“ThinkI’m an imposter, an actor, just like Lance Stone who played me in their damn movie. When the medical people in China saw that my brain wave patterns were back in the normal range, your government and the government of Mid-Wake figured your problems were solved. Awaken me. awaken Paul and Annie and Michael and Natalia. Gee, sorry nothing can be done for Sarah Rourke, yet. But we’re still working on that. And you can go back to the Sleep if you want to later, but right now we want you to overthrow Martin Zimmer. No. It’s not that simple.
IfMartin Zimmer somehow could be Deitrich Zimrnrr, or even if there’sa connection, there’s something considerably more impm tautto me than world peace, to consider right now,” John Rourke declared “You said what litde background data exists on Martin Zimmer indicates that he may have been a doctor. So, if he is Deitrich Zimmer, or Deitrich Zimmer’s pupil, the micro-surgery techniques Deitrich Zimmer supposedly took with him to the grave, could be justwhafs needed to reach that bullet lodged in my wife’s brain, free her.
“You-youwant-” Kohl stammered.
JamesDarkwood laughed, looking at Kohl, saying, “I was right wasnt I? Five generations ago, Jason Darkwood wrote his memoirs of a life at sea and his adventures with John Rourke in the closing days of the War. You should have read those memoirs, Manfred. I tried to tell you John Rourke doesn’t take orders. He does what he thinks is best” DarlcwoodclappedMara^edKohlonthe shoulder, saying, “And you’re shit out of luck.”
Four
Theyrode in relative silence, a rather and son who, at least once, were bommkwvvirhrhe same woman, and their faithful Jewish companion, as Paul Rubenstein often thought of himself.
Helooked down at the Journal page before him and began to write. “We are passengers in what these days passes for a delivery truck, taking fresh supphes of souvenirs and candy to The Retreat. Again, Manfred Kohl became consaderaWy bent out of shape. He told John that breaking no The Retreat to retrieve his old weapons was silly.
“Johnwas wry patient with him, explaining mat not only were the weapons he’datwavs carried the best to be had, even ifthere were more modem ones, but mat the psychological value against Martin Zimmer was important. Martin would be wondering who had broken into the Retreat, and for what purpose? Putting the dictator of Eden even a litde off balance was c everyone’sbenefit, John insisted.
“1 don’tknow if Marrfred Kohl agreed with him or not-and I suspect the latter-but he acquiesced.
1was. frankly, very worried when we were first awakened from The Sleep, worried over the situation concerning Michael and Natalia. How would John accept this? It was always clear that John loved Natalia, but equally dear that, because of bis personal code of honor, that love could never be consummated while Sarah lived. Does Sarah live?
Herheart and lungs still function at the prescribed rate for cryogenic rnarntenance, and her brain wave pattern is normal considering the trauma inflicted upon her.
1worry that, if Sarah is revived, she might not be the same person. What damage might have been done to her brain by the bullet? At the time, we were assured that the physical damage was very litde and that the problem was that the bullet could not be removed. But what if those medical opinions were in error? And now, with Michael and Natalia lovers-and that is obvious-the possibility exists that John might be
foreveralone.
“Johnconstantly amazes me. Michael and Natalia approached hra after the initial sta
ges of our recovery from The Sleep. Michael held her hand. He let go of her hand, stepped in front of her and told his tamermatheandNataUawereinlove, andhad consummated that love. John sat there very quietly for a moment and I didn’t quite know what to expect. My wife, Annie, John’s daughter and Michael’s sister, held my hand so tightiy I could feel the circulation slowing.
ThenJohn said - and I think Til remember his words until I go to the grave-I love you, Michael. And I love you, Natalia. Now I can love both of you as one. And he stood-with some difficulty because the body relearns movement slowly after the Sleep-and embraced Michael, then embraced Natalia, kissing her cheek. He shook his son’s hand.
“I cannotimagine a man handling such a situation in a finer or better way than he did. Here, in Eden, John Rourke’s praises are sung, regardless of the motive, for his heroism. His bravery is something I wouldnever deny. But, the more I learn about my friend the more I realizethat his real greatness is in his humanity, something no statue, no guided four, no face on postage stamps or coinage or currency could ever convey.”
Thetruck stopped.
Johnsaid, “Gentlemen.” And he drew the Detonics Scoremaster, Annie had loaned him, from his trouser band.
Therear doors ofthe truck opened, one of Manfred Kohl’s agents-in-place waiting with a gun in his hand. “You must hurry now.”
Paul’sjournal was already closed. He left it, inside a musette bag, on the seat he’d occupied in the back of the truck. He took the battered old Browning High Power from beneath the sixtiesish turtleneck he wore under Ws hooded black windbreaker and started for the door…
Usingthe German climbing equipment, added to the fact that they
wereall mtimately familiar with each face of the mountain, facilitated j
theirascent, despite the darkness and the tact that there was no moon, j
Theonly electronic security they had encountered, perforce not I
overlyprecise because there was now abundant re-released wildlife in I
thearea, was at the fence surrounding the base of the rnountain itself, j
Bridgingthe fence without interrupting ifs current allowed them easy j
access.
Thenew German climbing boots, the advanced crampons and the fact, that for better than fifty percent of the distance they needed no climbing gear stall and could essentially just walk, reduced the ascent time to under two hours.
‘There’s noekctronic security on the summit, except for a video camera on the far side,” John told them. “By keeping low and going in front of the statue, well be undetectable.”
Theyapproached the statue, Paul seeing it for the first time, as was Michael. Michael observed, The face on the statue is pretty lifelike; I think you ought to lose the beard, Dad. Just a suggestion.”
Johnturned around, saying nothing. And, in the darkness, Paul could not see fas face. But, he agreedwith Michael. The full beard John had grown to disguise his now very recognizable face, just wasn’t him, somehow.
Keepingto knees and elbows, they crawled pastthe base ofthe statue past the escape batch John had actually used before and after the event which the statue depicted, as if frozen in time, and to the far side of the TDountain’ssummit, wefl out of range of the video surveillance.
Therewas a large, fiat stone, surrounded by several smaller stones. Michael began moving the smaller stones away. “If we dothis right,” John said taking one end of the large,flat stone, Paul taking the other, “wellbe in and out and they’ll never know how we didit. That should make our Martin Zimmer even more upset.” Michael joining them, they moved the fiat stone onto the tarp John had laid out on the rocky surface besideit, so there would be no scuff marks on the stones.
“Where’sthis come out again?” Paul asked.
ButJohn only laughed softly…
MichaelRourke knew The Retreat as well as his father, having been its master for all the years while his father returned to The Steep. Michael and his sister had grown up there.
Goingfirst through the tunnel, climbing downward in near total darkness except for the small flashlight he held clamped in his teeth, he reached the interior vault closure and began to work the combination.
“Howare you coming, Michael?”
“Almost-gotit, Dad.
“Wheredo we come out?” Paul reiterated. “Ohh-I remember. It
takesa sick mind to think of something like that.”
Tilgrant you devious,” Michael’s father said. Michael Rourke drew open the door and aimed his flashlight at the back of the object which masked the secret entrance. “Remember, push on your right side and swing it to your left.”
Tremember.” Michael pushed, the porcelain cold against his hands. The toilet’s flush tank swung away and Michael Rourke drew back. There was no light, no sound. Hedecidedtogoforit, stepping through, feeling with his foot first that the toilet lid was down, only putting part ofhis weight on it, then stepping down to the floor. If there were motion or pressure sensors, their entry would be detected.
Theflashlight in his teeth again, Michael held one ofhis Berettas in each hand.
Hisfather was through the opening, then his brother-in-law.
“Wecan’t risk lights because a power surge would be detected. There are motion sensors by the main entrance, but I can’t get my Harley up the escape tunnel anyway, so there’s no need to go to the main entrance. The video cameras probably aren’t monitored continuously, so let’s hope they don’t catch the flicker.”
Andthey started getting out of their backpacks…
Reachingthe video camera without its seeing him was the hardest part, and he stood beside it now, balanced precariously on top of one of the gun cases, the A/B switch in hand. Coaxial cable was vastly changed over what he remembered, but he had rehearsed this, at the house on the outskirts of Eden City, which James Darkwood had secured as a very temporary headquarters for them.
Usingthe pliers fromhis LeathermanTool, Michael Rourke worked loose the locking nut, then readied himself to jerk the coax free of the camera feed. Hewasdoubleglovednow, rubber below leather, to avoid leaving fingerprints, which were still used occasionally for indentification, he’d understood fromDarkwoodand Kohl. But, these days, sophisticated laser scanners routinely picked up latent prints that were left through a porous glove, a technology pioneered in the late twentieth century.
Hejerked the coax free and pushed the single feed end of the A/B switch into place, leaving the lock nut until later. In the next instant, he pushed the coax that was a moment before it disconnected from the
camera onto one of the receptacles on the other end of the A/B switch.
No sirens sounded, no lights flashed on, but he didn’t for a moment feel safe …
Paul Rubenstein had his A/B switch in position on the second video
surveillance camera, then tightened the lock nut. The video equipment
they were attaching would be their gift to the government of Eden. It
was cheap Russian equipment, suited to the task but so ubiquitous as to
be unliacabte.the marketfl only these
with all serial markings removed.
Paul drrnbed down off the kitchen counter, checking his connection to the video recorder.
He lot the A/B switch’s remote and the switch moved to the center position, the feed from the camera going to both coax lines, the one leading along to the mam entrance of The Retreat and the one leading down to his recorder.
His fingers poised over the play and record buttons. In six centuries, apparently, no one had discovered a way to make one button which reliably did both.
When the camera reached its farthest rearward swing, Paul pushed play and record the same feed that was going along coaxtothe security station going into the recorder as well.
He looked at las watch, timing a full rotation of the camera from starting point back to starting point at one minute and fifty-two seconds. He tapped out the numbers on a calculator, then leaned against the wall and w
aited
Five
John Rourke had the alarms on the cases he needed to enter bridged in under ten minutes, the video of the interior of the Retreat’s great room being fed back through the coax from the security cameras, so that anyone observing the video signal-watching it on a monitor-would see exacdy what was expected, an empty room in darkness except for illuminated cases, not three men rifling them.
The alarms bridged, Paul and Michael aiding him, John Rourke began to open the cases.
The first things he took from the cases were the twin stainless Detonics .45s. He hefted them in his hands, najding in satisfaction.
Carefully, he set both pistols onto the padded length of material he’d stretched across the floor. Michael handed him the two full-sized Detonics Scoremasters. John Rourke set those onto the length of fabric as well.
Paul set the 629 next in line and the suppressor-fitted 6906.
The knives-both the Crain LS-X and the A.G. Russell Sting IA Black Chrome-along with their sheaths, the leather surprisingly well-preserved, were stowed in an open pack.
John Rourke took his dark-lensed aviator style sunglasses from the case and placed them carefully in the hardside case in a pocket of his jacket. “Paul, get my SSG; never know when we might have to do some long distance work,” Rourke whispered beside his friend’s ear.
Paul nodded.
John Rourke went to the library shelves.
He set the open pack on the floor beside him.
Videotape was supposed to be wound periodically to guard against deterioration, but German scientists had assured rum that if he could get it, they could salvage it.
Michael was beside him, whispered into his ear, “What are you getting?”
“Home movies. Annie’s and PauTs children can see them someday, and yours and Natalia’s, too.” “Dad, I, uhh-*
“What I said I meant You know I loved Natalia, but there was no way we could ever be together. You did what I wanted, and Fm happy for both of you that you did it on your OWTI, without me prompting it. My daughter is married to one of the two finest men Tve ever known, and some day Natalia wiflbemarry^ son’s arm. men went on with Ins work.
