Perception Fault

by James Axler

  “It seems both Tellen and Carrington have their own peculiar senses of honor. Either that, or neither of them are playing with a full deck,” Mildred said. “The idea of assassinating Tellen was brought up at dinner, but Carrington dismissed it, as well. And however likely it is that Tellen could ambush Carrington and take him out, if he hasn’t followed up on that option yet, he’s not going to, either. You said Tellen also said Carrington is dying. How in the hell did he know that?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Whoever his inside men are, like J.B. said, some are pretty high up. It would be easy enough to pass information, or the wrong information, to the other side. What we do know is that both these men want a third party to handle their problems—us. It gives them—what’d you call it, Doc?—‘plausible deniability’ if anything goes wrong.”

  “Nothin’ sayin’ we don’t have ‘accidents’ when all’s done,” Jak piped up from his corner. “Whole place’s stinkin’ worse every minute.”

  Ryan rubbed his chin. “On the other hand, I’d say that makes our value to both sides appreciate considerably.”

  J.B. eyed him speculatively. “You’re not going to play both ends against each other, are you? Even the Trader wasn’t fool enough to attempt that twice.”

  “Nope. I think it’s best we play this one by ear. It’s obvious neither of these two can be trusted with finding out what’s over there. The funny thing is, both of them think we’re the best people to do it. I guess because of what you said, Mildred. We’re supposedly disinterested parties. So I think the best thing to do is to give both sides what they want.”

  “And just how do you propose to do that?” Krysty asked.

  “Simple—we scout the area for both sides, just like each one wants us to do.”

  J.B. rolled his eyes. “Dark night, you are going to play both of them against each other.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Did I stutter? Like I said, I’m going to give each of them what they want, nothing more, nothing less. Now let’s all get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, and I’m beat.”

  “You think it’s safe to sleep in these rooms by ourselves?” Mildred asked.

  “Hell, both Carrington and Tellen want us alive to do their work for them. I can’t think of a safer place to be right now.” With that, Ryan grabbed Krysty’s hand and led her back to their room.

  Once inside, he shoved a door under the handle again and inspected the windows. “Course, that doesn’t mean I don’t take stupid chances, either,” he muttered, half to Krysty, half under his breath. Only when he was satisfied that the room was secure did he strip off his shirt, leaving his pants and boots on this time, crawl into bed beside Krysty and fall asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

  DESPITE THE COMFORTABLE BED, J.B. had spent a restless night tossing and turning, unable to get his lapse in concentration out of his mind. Beside him, Mildred slept peacefully, apparently taking refuge in Ryan’s pronunciation of their safety.

  The Armorer wasn’t as confident, however, and his unanswered concerns had vexed him so that he’d finally gotten up from the plush bed and sat in a purple upholstered armchair, fingers tapping on the armrest while he stared out the window at the night-covered city. His mind whirled with unanswered questions. Since Tellen had men inside the city, were they watching the companions then? Had he given orders to take them out if they thought the friends posed a threat to him? Was the supposed mission just a wild-hare chance to get rid of them by one side or the other? Conspiracies and plots formed and reformed, with different sides playing each other, betraying each other. In the end, J.B. came to the only sensible conclusion there was—go along with whatever play Ryan had in mind, and back him to the last bullet if necessary.

  At last he’d returned to bed, falling into fitful sleep as the sun started to creep over the horizon. The morning dawned bright and clear, with a yellow-white sun appearing in the eastern sky, and J.B. awoke to the smell of savory bacon, toasted bread and melted butter. His eyes snapped open, and still only half-awake, he groped for his mini-Uzi he’d placed near the side of the bed.

  “What—” His eyes focused on Mildred, sitting up next to him, and the large tray in front of her, full of covered dishes that steamed in the cool morning air.

  “Relax, John, relax. I just wanted to surprise you, that’s all.” She passed over a mug full of dark, steaming liquid. “Chicory coffee?”

  “Black dust, woman, you know surprises usually aren’t a good thing.” J.B. smiled as he accepted the cup and sipped the bitter brew. “In this case, however, I’ll make an exception.”

  “You better. I’ll probably never get the chance to have breakfast in bed with you again.” She uncovered the plates, revealing scrambled eggs in butter, eight strips of bacon, a large grilled buffalo steak, and half a loaf of toasted sourdough bread next to small crocks of butter and a dark purple jam. “Well, stop staring and dig in. I got enough for three here.”

  The smile on his face growing wider, J.B. did just that. “Feel kind of bad having this without the others.”

  Mildred snorted. “They could do the same thing if they wanted. The instructions are on the nightstand for ordering room service—” She sat there, hands covering her mouth, staring at the bounty before her, tears trickling down her face.

  “Mildred, what’s wrong?” J.B. scooted close, taking her in his arms and holding her while she sobbed quietly. After a few moments, she drew away and wiped her eyes.

  “Oh, you must think I’m a crazy woman to be crying over something like this.”

  “Well, since I’m not sure what ‘this’ is, why don’t you tell me, and I’ll let you know.”

  She socked him on the shoulder, but it was a playful blow. “Oh, John, it’s just… All of this, it suddenly reminded me of what life used to be like, before the missiles blew everything to hell and gone. When you could get into a car or on a train or airplane and cross the country in a few hours, or go into any city and walk into a hotel like this, or a restaurant like where we ate last night, and… That was civilization, it was everyday, normal life, where the worst thing you had to worry about was losing your wallet or forgetting where you parked your car, or maybe even getting mugged—or for women, raped—on the street. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather be alive in this time than dead back then, but even when I had no idea I was going into the cryo-freeze, if they had told me, I would have thought I’d be coming out into a different world, sure, but a better one.”

  She sighed, stabbing a chunk of eggs on her fork and eating it. “I know this is the only one you’ve ever known, but if you only knew what the world was like back then… You just can’t realize what’s been lost forever. The culture of a people, the art, the literature, the history of thousands of years wiped out, looted or burned or destroyed by people who didn’t know any better. Leaving us with a place where a night in an unspoiled hotel room is a luxury that hardly anyone will ever know, where might makes right, and the only law usually comes from the barrel of a gun. Where places that try to build something different are usually destroyed by two-legged vultures who exist only to destroy, never to build, always keeping civilization and the rest of the people down just to satisfy their greed and lust for power.”

  Still holding her, J.B. thought about that for a bit before replying. “No, I suppose I never have known that sort of a life. My time in Cripple Creek was about the best it could get growing up, till I started off on my own, eventually meeting up with the Trader. All I know is that we try to make the best of what we’re given each day we have. If that means a peaceful day, then so be it, but if that means chilling someone before they chill us, well, that’s part of life, too.”

  “I know, I know. I just wish that sometimes it wasn’t, that’s all. That there would be something better for all of us, not just you, me and the rest of our friends, but for everybody. Come on, the food’s getting cold.”

  They both fell to, eating their fill. After a few blissful minutes, Mildred munched on the las
t piece of jam-smeared toast and turned to J.B. again. “Would you stay, John?”

  “You mean here?” J.B. snatched the last piece of bacon and stuffed half of it into his mouth, chewing as he considered the question. “Can’t say that I’ve given it much thought lately, given all our bouncing around all over the place. Even somewhere like Denver’s got its problems, with Tellen and those stickies runnin’ around.” A thought struck in his head about the stickies—something about how neither leader had mentioned the problem—but it was gone before he could grasp it.

  “There doesn’t seem to be anywhere safe in the Deathlands. The coastal baronies are too busy squabbling and fighting, the west is scattered outposts of trouble like this one. Seems people are too busy taking as much as they can of what’s left instead of trying to build something new.”

  “But doesn’t that mean when someone like Carrington comes along and does the latter, we should try to make sure he gets a chance to succeed?”

  J.B. shook his head. “That isn’t always up to us, Millie. First rule is to always look out for yourselves and your friends, not stick your neck out for strangers, no matter how well they feed you. Anyone else we come across is way down on that list, you know that.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m no stupe, John, as you all so quaintly put it out here. But I know what life could be like again, if we could just pull the right people together, start carving a new country out of this fractured land, with everyone pulling together for a common goal.”

  J.B. covered a piece of buttered sourdough in jam and munched it. “Getting a ville together’s one thing, but getting anything larger… When you find enough people for that, you let me know.”

  “Maybe I will, John, maybe I will.”

  THEY ALL ASSEMBLED in Ryan and Krysty’s room that morning. Mildred and J.B. exchanged a knowing smile at the tray outside the door of the room. Jak and Doc were the last to arrive, both of them bleary-eyed and puffy-faced, as if neither had gotten a lot of sleep.

  “By the Three Kennedys, if I ever imbibe like that again, I give any of you permission to put me down with a merciful bullet through my brainpan.” He clapped his hands to his head. “I cannot even countenance the sound of my own voice ringing in my ears at the moment.”

  Krysty frowned as she examined the shorter of the bedraggled pair. “What about you, Jak? Didn’t think you’d eaten or drank as much as the rest of us, but you look like you been run over—twice.”

  The albino teen began to reply, but Doc cut him off. “To make matters worse, this one insisted on playing those damn movies all night long, so I had to listen to spaceships flying and laser beams blasting and space worms doing…whatever it is space worms do. A more nonsensical plot I could not have come up with under the influence of absinthe and opium both, but this Lucas fellow apparently had no trouble with weaving his errant flights of fancy together for a gullible public.”

  “Lucas—you mean the director of the films?”

  “Madam, I wouldn’t know this good fellow if we were to bump into each other on the street, but yes, that is exactly who I mean.”

  Mildred shot a meaningful glance at J.B. before replying. “Doc, those movies were made in another time, before all this went down. Of course, now that I think about it, seems kind of tame now, all things considered.”

  Ryan had been leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest as he watched the group, but now he straightened and headed toward the door. “You both better be alert today, because we’re going east to check out that supposedly hidden base. While I’m not happy about being in this situation, I also don’t trust either of these two any farther than I can throw them, so I’m going to tell Carrington we’ll take a look and let him know what we find out.”

  J.B. frowned. “What about Tellen?”

  “He said I’d have a way to get in touch with him, so we’ll deal with that when the time comes. Everyone get your stuff together and get down to the lobby in five minutes. Figure we’ll get outfitted by noon or thereabouts, then drive out there and see what we can see.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ryan had been right about the rest of the morning except one thing—Carrington had men, vehicles and equipment ready almost from the moment Ryan had agreed to go out and investigate the airport. It was all Ryan could do to convince him that they weren’t heading out until later that morning.

  “You bet much, Josiah? If you read men that well, we could make a fortune out east at the gambling halls.”

  The elder Carrington was overseeing the final preparations before they departed, and he flashed Ryan a wide smile. “I don’t bet. I just try to cover as many angles as possible. If you’d said no, these men would have escorted you up to thirty miles outside of the city in any direction and sent you on your way. However, since they’re here…” His manner was jovial this morning, a stark contrast to the alternating sly, bombastic and ingratiating facades he’d presented the night before.

  They were taking three mil wags out to the site, one for Ryan’s group and two to escort them. In order to fit all of Ryan’s people into his vehicle, theirs didn’t have a machine gun mount on it, but the other two did, an M-60 machine gun poking out of the top of each one. The Hummers appeared to be from the very top-of-the-line of the city’s fleet, with well-treaded tires, almost no dents and hardly worn, comfortable seats.

  Major Kelor was there, as well as Sergeant Caddeus, who would apparently be leading the Denver units. This was over the major’s objections, judging by his strained conversation with Josiah that Ryan had observed, but not heard, earlier. He kept his eye on the two sec men as they worked, but all he saw was efficient orders given and received between an officer and a subordinate.

  That reminded Ryan of the fact that someone high up in the security chain of Denver was working with the enemy. He watched the two sec men as they instructed the men assigned to each outlying mil wag. Either one could be colluding with Tellen’s men for the same plum he’d dangled in front of Ryan—a share of Denver itself. He’d seen it happen before in more villes than he cared to name. Either man was a likely candidate—Kelor if he was itching for a change of leadership, and found Tellen’s more suited to his needs; and Caddeus if he wanted to get rid of both Carrington and Kelor in one bloody coup. Maybe the sergeant was going on this mission to feed information to Tellen’s forces, as well. Ryan wouldn’t put it past the man to have more than one plant in place, to verify that the intel he was receiving was correct. In his place, Ryan would have done the same thing.

  At last everything and everyone was loaded up, and they were ready to head out. Ryan had just settled into the driver’s seat and fired up the diesel engine when Josiah walked over to his door. “I won’t waste your time with fancy speeches today, Ryan. It wouldn’t make no difference anyway.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because you’re gonna go out there and do what you think is best, regardless of anything I’d have to say about it.”

  “That’s about the size of it. Now if you don’t mind…” Ryan pointed at the lead vehicle, which was already getting underway.

  “Course not. Just wanted to wish you good luck before you left, that’s all.”

  “Thanks, we’ll be in touch.” Ryan scanned the launch area for Rachel, but didn’t see her. It was just as well. If she’d clamored to go with them, it would have made things a mite uncomfortable. Better that she was out of the way from the start. Nudging the accelerator, Ryan caught up to the lead wag, and the trio drove out of the city.

  “See anything strange so far, J.B.?”

  “Not outside. Just this brand-new radio in our ride, which doesn’t match either of the ones in the other two vehicles.” The Armorer held up the small, dark green box. “What do you want to bet it’s preset to a freq that’ll connect us right to your buddy on the other side of the wall?”

  “I’ll pass, thanks. When we get a little farther out, I’ll try it and see who I raise. Meantime, everyone stay triple
red, fingers on triggers. Since we have no idea of what we’re driving into, it’s best to be ready for anything.”

  They followed a northeasterly route first. Ryan thought to try to confuse any of Tellen’s men that might be watching. The taller buildings rapidly fell away into rings of broken-down houses, many just a strong breeze away from collapsing into total ruins. After another ten minutes, they’d left the ville behind, and were on a battered highway that seemed to lead into endless, parched plains. The heat was already climbing inside the cab of the vehicle, and the dust thrown up from the passage of the first wag created a dry cloud that settled over everything and everyone in a fine layer of tan.

  “Sure we not want peel off head to redoubt?” Jak asked after a violent bit of sneezing from the specks that had turned his white hair a mottled, creamy brown and covered his canvas jacket, as well. “Seems like fool’s run.”

  “Mebbe so, but we’re already out this far. Might as well see what’s here. If anything. Although at the moment, I’m starting to think you may be right. What the hell—”

  Ryan interrupted himself as they came over a rise to see one of the oddest sights he’d come across—a statue of a large, bright blue horse, rearing up on its hind legs, front hooves pawing at the sky. He started to slow down just as the rear of the lead wag seemed to tilt up and disappear in a large cloud of dust.

  “Lead vehicle is gone! Repeat, lead vehicle is gone!” Ryan said over the radio as he slammed on the brakes. “Rear guard, keep your eyes open for ambushers! Everyone keep a watch all around. J.B., on me!”

  Leaving the engine running, he opened the door and got out, trying to see past the thick dust cloud ahead. He heard cursing and shouting a few yards away, however, verifying that someone was alive in the mil wag. “Hey, down there, what happened?”