“I know what it’s like to survive,” Franklin said. “I spent the first year up in the mountains, all by myself. And then I found family”—he pointed at Rachel—“and she’d changed on me. She was a Zap, but she was still my granddaughter. My human granddaughter. No mutation could touch her heart.”
DeVontay looked at the woman he loved, as fond of her as ever. He could barely remember what she was like before the transformation—this was who she was. This was Rachel. He didn’t want her any other way.
Except maybe pregnant.
Finn giggled, and DeVontay shook his head at the baby: Some things are personal. You need to learn some boundaries.
“We fought the Zaps for years,” Franklin continued. “Just like you did. Even while we watched them change, even while we saw them grow more powerful and place us in danger of extinction. Like you, I saw a world where humans no longer belonged, and I didn’t like it one damn bit. But I also learned the Zaps weren’t monsters—they had as much to fear as we did.”
A few groans of protest rose from the crowd, but Franklin didn’t give them a chance to build momentum. “I’ve been inside the Zap cities,” he said. “I fought with President Murray in North Carolina.”
At the mention of their former leader, the crowd fell silent again. DeVontay moved forward to stand beside Rachel, and Finn and Carter looked at one another. Whatever conversation they might be having, DeVontay was not invited.
“President Murray gave her life for what she believed,” Franklin said. “And through her sacrifice, we learned more about the Zaps and their capabilities. We learned these infants are incredibly intelligent and powerful.”
“And dangerous,” a man yelled from the far side of the depot.
“Yes, they can be dangerous,” Franklin continued. “But they also have learned that they don’t have to kill what’s different. They don’t have to see us as a threat. We live in a world where the human population now probably numbers in the tens of thousands, maybe less. Plenty of room for everyone. Plenty of time to start over and build a new world. Plenty of time to learn from each other’s strengths.”
“Sounds like liberal Commie bullshit,” the man bellowed, and again a few belligerent voices clamored in support. “I heard you were a patriot, a freedom fighter. Yet you’ve got one of those freaky-eyed little monsters in your arms right now.”
“Freedom doesn’t always look like you think it does,” Franklin said. “It’s not a piece of paper, it’s not a fucking flag, it’s not a gun to kill anybody that doesn’t look like you or think like you or talk like you. I’ve learned that much from this baby and from all the other Zaps. You’re only as free as you allow yourself to be. Otherwise you’re just putting yourself in a prison of your own design and execution.”
Rachel moved to the rail and added, “Just give us one day. If we can’t earn your trust by then, well, we’re unarmed and outnumbered—you can do what you want.”
A few more murmurs rippled back and forth along the crowd, but most people seemed either confused or mollified. They were in such a desperate state that they had little to lose.
Then Carter spoke, his high voice barely filling the cavernous space but shocking the crowd to a hush. “I’ve been helping you,” he said. “I eliminated the toxins my city was producing. I sent robots to kill the savages that were attacking you. And haven’t you noticed there aren’t as many wild predators around anymore? I’ve been eradicating those, too.”
“Why, do you want us for pets?” the hunched woman croaked. “Or maybe for meat?”
“No, because I was curious,” Carter said. “Zaps in other cities wanted to kill you, but I didn’t want you to vanish before I ever knew what you were. I thought the world was better with you—with all of you—in it.”
A few people whispered to one another, and Sketch looked at DeVontay and winked. The kid was either completely nuts or he was truly laid back.
“The Zaps know about Operation Free Bird,” Rachel said. “They might be able to survive a nuclear holocaust. They could hole up in their cities and maybe withstand the effects. But this is an unknown. What we do know is that we—humans—probably won’t.”
“We’re facing a crisis together,” Alexander said. “This will be our first test. If we don’t solve it, then none of the rest will matter. If we do, then we have something on which we can build. God bless us all.”
Someone in the crowd applauded, and a little girl who’d been hiding behind her mother stepped forward and waved at Carter, and then a few troops saluted the general. DeVontay felt some of the palpable tension drain from the assembly. Alexander had offered them a sliver of hope, and that was a ration that had been in short supply for years.
Alexander motioned the group through the doorway that led into the deepest part of the cavern. “Let’s go save the world.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Zaps busted the hell out of it, as you can see,” Sketch said, laying out the pieces of the shattered radio. “I was trying to make something out of these old TVs and computer parts, but it’s like a jigsaw puzzle in a black hole.”
The radio room was crowded, and Franklin was crammed into a corner holding Joanna. He never liked crowds and cramped places, and there wasn’t room for K.C. or Squeak, who were out in the hallway with the armed guards. Only the teenager, the Zap babies and their carriers, and Alexander were in the room, but it reeked of sweat and tension and the lingering rot of the previous night’s slaughter.
“First things first,” Carter said. “Your battery array and power interface are failing, so we need more amplitude and voltage.”
“I’ll fix it,” Finn said. “Can you show me the way?”
DeVontay looked at Alexander, who frowned and nodded. Then the general gave directions and ordered two guards to follow them. After DeVontay and Finn were gone, Joanna and Carter focused their attention on the various circuit boards, wires, fuses, capacitors, and diodes Sketch had arranged on the table.
“What were you trying to build here?” Carter asked the teen.
“A cell phone,” Sketch said. “You don’t know what it’s like to sit here and interact with people in real life. Boring.”
“There aren’t any transmission towers or any other phones to text or call,” Franklin said. “What’s the point?”
“I can dream, can’t I?” the teen said. “You old farts sure didn’t have all the answers, or we might not be in this mess.”
“We didn’t cause the solar storms,” Alexander said. “They just happened.”
“Are you sure of that?” Carter said, still peering intently at the technological scrap heap lying on the table. “Don’t we all create the world we end up inhabiting?”
“You’re blowing my mind, little dude,” Sketch said. “Let’s keep it real until we get the job done.”
“What do we do if you succeed in building it?” Rachel asked. “We still don’t have the code.”
“DeVontay has it,” Carter said, barely paying attention to the conversation.
“What?” Franklin said. He lifted Joanna to his face and stared into her eyes, not that he could divine any secrets from their madly glittering depths. “Did you know anything about this?”
She giggled and swatted at Franklin’s beard, her slender fingers clutching and pulling. “Don’t bother me. I’m trying to concentrate here and help Carter.”
“If you know the code, I demand that you give it to me right now,” Alexander said. “That’s an order.”
“I told you, DeVontay has it,” Carter said. Rachel moved him closer to the pieces, and then she reached down and began arranging them in a peculiar order. Her face was blank, and Franklin wondered if she was telepathically connected with—or utterly possessed by—the mutant infant she carried.
No more than you are, Joanna telepathed.
I told you I don’t like it when you do that, Franklin replied, shaking his head as if he could free himself of the mirthful voice inside it.
Too bad. N
ow hush and let the grown-ups work.
Rachel arranged the circuit boards and chips in a pattern that look strangely familiar. Then Franklin realized it was similar to the geometric array of shapes laid out in Joanna’s and Carter’s cities. Maybe the pattern was essential to the metal connecting to the plasma sinks.
But what good would that do here? Carter’s plasma sink was fifty miles to the south.
The tiny lights strung overhead visibly brightened, now almost blinding after the former dimness. Rachel shifted more pieces as Joanna and Carter stared intently at one another. Although he knew better, Franklin tried to divine their conversation but they communicated in a language he didn’t recognize. He wondered for the hundredth time if the Zaps presented one face to the world while they lived a thousand simultaneous fantasy lives that were hidden even from one another.
He only hoped humans never evolved to such a point. They might just as well be the creations of computer programs if that were the case.
Not that he’d live long enough to worry about that, nor was it really any of his business. He had no control over the future. He couldn’t even control the present, as much as that idea challenged his fierce libertarian principles.
Principles are only principles until they get broken. Then you believe a new lie. One thing will never change, and that’s our capacity for self-deception.
DeVontay and Finn returned and squeezed their way to the table. Alexander confronted DeVontay, asking for the code.
“I don’t have no idea what you’re talking about,” DeVontay said. “If I knew the code, I would’ve radioed it in and be heading for home right now.”
Alexander drew his Beretta and jammed the barrel into DeVontay’s side. “Give me the code, damn it.”
Franklin grabbed the general’s wrist. “He told the truth. He doesn’t know.”
“It’s in his eye,” Joanna said. “The metal was exposed to both President Murray and to Captain Ziminski. It knows. Like a memory chip.”
Alexander glared at DeVontay’s face and the almost luminescent orb in his eye socket. Franklin pushed down the old man’s arm until the Beretta was pointed at the concrete floor, and then Franklin took the weapon from him. A couple of the guards shifted uneasily but Alexander ordered them to hold back.
Franklin laid the pistol on the table out of Alexander’s reach. The general moved until he stood behind Sketch, carefully watching as Rachel arranged the various processors and pieces. “What are they doing?” he asked the teen.
“If I knew, I’d be a genius and making mad stacks in Silicon Valley,” Sketch said, obviously marveling at the speed with which Rachel worked. “I’m just wondering how they’re going to connect all these circuits.”
“Like this,” Carter said, and DeVontay placed his index finger to his damaged eye, pressing so that the metal prosthetic bulged and then popped free. He caught the metal with his other hand and placed it on the table.
It rolled over to the surreal cubist sculpture and began splitting into smaller sections, each then dividing into thin rods. The rods rapidly stretched into almost microscopically thin wires that wove themselves into the strange technological menagerie. Within seconds, the metal had stitched the entire device together.
It looked like nothing Franklin had ever seen. It was the size of a desktop computer but had no shell, switches, or screens.
“Go head,” Carter said to Sketch. “Call NORAD.”
Sketch reached out a hand as if afraid to touch it, and then said, “There’s no buttons or dials, dude.”
“You’re thinking in the old way,” Carter said. “Welcome to the future.”
Alexander nudged the teen. “Talk to it.”
Sketch leaned forward and whispered, “Hello? Is this thing on?”
The soldiers in the hallway crowded forward, as curious as Franklin was. The electrical smell of hot copper and burning dust filled the air, imbued with the peculiar acrid odor Franklin recognized from the Zap cities. Rachel, her work finished, looked at him as if she were as confused as anyone. But her eyes glimmered so fiercely he almost expected red and yellow sparks to come shooting out of them at any moment.
A faint hiss arose from somewhere in the room, and Franklin realized it was coming from the center of the bizarre contraption. Then the voice broke through, fuzz-drenched but distinct. “Come again, over.”
Excited voices erupted in the hallway but Alexander quelled them with a stern order. Sketch said, “This is Hotel Quebec, over.”
“Hotel Quebec, this is NORAD, over.”
The voice sounded strange, but Franklin chalked it up to the peculiar transmission methods of the mutant engineering. Alexander leaned over Sketch and shouted, “This is General Arnold Alexander, Acting POTUS for New Pentagon, over. Put your CO on the line immediately.”
“Affirmative, Hotel Quebec. This is the CO, over.”
“Wallace? McGinnity? Orsenhauser? I don’t recognize the voice.”
“You have never heard it before, General Alexander. It didn’t exist until now.”
“What the hell are you talking about? This isn’t a joke! I’ll have your ass court-martialed—”
“Your threats have no merit. Over.”
Joanna, Carter, and Finn spoke in unison: “Have you secured the base, over?”
“Yes, we have NORAD, Sandee, Minot, and other bases on the West Coast. We can dispense with the military codes. They’re invalid now, over.”
“What is this?” Alexander bellowed, looking wildly from Franklin to Rachel to DeVontay, seeking answers from people who were just as astonished as he was.
“Sounds like the Zaps took over, Chief,” Sketch said. To his credit, the teenager maintained his usual nonchalance.
“That is correct,” Carter said. “And you should be glad.”
“Missiles are secured,” the strange radio broadcast. “We’ve also seized control of the remaining submarine. Not all continents are accounted for, but we’ve assumed command of all the designated Earth Zero countries. Operation Free Bird is aborted. We say again, Operation Free Bird is aborted, over.”
“Did you know about this?” Alexander said to Rachel, and Franklin eyed the pistol. If the general assaulted her or any of the Zap babies, Franklin would defend them to the death.
But he sensed—through Joanna—the automatic weapons that were pointed at them all.
“You tricked me,” Alexander said, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and his nostrils flaring. “I’m going to kill every last goddamned one of you.”
“Not a good idea,” Carter said. “Don’t forget who has the missiles now. You might kill us—and you might not—but either way, you lose in the end.”
A vein stood out in the general’s temple and spittle flew from his mouth as he ranted. “I DON”T LOSE! AMERICA NEVER LOSES!”
“Chill out, Chief,” Sketch said. “Let’s think this thing through.”
“Just say the word, General,” one of the soldiers said, as a dozen rifles aimed into the room.
“Listen to the kid,” Franklin said. “We were going to all die anyway, remember? We’re still playing the same cards, but now we’re on the other side of the table.”
“But I control who lives or dies,” Alexander said. “It’s my call. Humans get to decide.”
“You were never in control,” Carter said. “You possessed only the illusion of control. But your objective was achieved regardless.”
“You got what you wanted,” Rachel said. “You stopped the missiles.”
“She’s right, Chief,” Sketch said. “If these guys wanted us dead, they would’ve just left us here in our hole with no radio and no abort code. They would’ve left NORAD in the hands of humans. And, not to be all judgmental or anything, but we’ve been screwing this thing up even before the solar storms.”
“We kept our word,” Carter said. “And we’re going to employ our technology to help you as promised. We’ll start with your power grid. If you kill us, others will come. Perhaps they wi
ll share our ideology, or perhaps not. The end of the world is not in your hands anymore, but you have a choice about the beginning of the next.”
Alexander glanced at the Beretta, and Franklin braced to intercept him. But the general instead turned to his troops and said, “Stand down.”
The radio hissed and the strange, harmonic voice intruded: “Verify that order, over.”
“Stand down!” The general leaned against Sketch, his bandaged arm red and wet, exhaustion etched in the lines of his face. He seemed to droop in surrender, a warrior whose era had passed.
Franklin gently rocked Joanna, who wore a beatific smile, eyes closed, lashes fluttering as she either dreamed or silently communed with her fellow mutants.
He’ll realize soon enough that he wasn’t defeated. None of us were.
We just didn’t know the battle was with ourselves.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Judging by the daily trajectory of the sun across the aurora-tinged horizon, the winter solstice was only a few days away.
Rachel wondered if there was any symbolism in the rebirth of their society as Christmas approached. Whether Fate, coincidence, or the divine prank of some distant and omnipotent entity, perhaps it didn’t matter. The future would take care of itself if everyone took care of today, and redemption was a constant commitment to renewal, not a one-time free pass for old mistakes.
After spending the past month helping New Pentagon install a sophisticated electrical system and plumbing infrastructure, complete with wells, sinks, and septic tanks, Franklin and K.C. had decided to head for K.C.’s home in Stonewall. Gen. Alexander had requisitioned the Humvee for them, and K.C. was already perched behind the wheel, ready for an adventure.
Franklin waited beside the open passenger door, reluctant to say goodbye. He’d become a bit more sociable lately and had made some friends here, but Rachel decided not to point it out. He might take it as an insult.
DeVontay held out his hand to shake, but Franklin shifted Joanna in his arms and pulled the younger man in for a hug. “You take care of my angel, you hear?”
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