by Kirk Dougal
The last thing Tar saw was Ludler’s fist coming towards his face.
Chapter 35
Tar tried to make sense of where he was without moving again. His hands were tied but his feet were free. It was soft beneath his cheek and he noticed he was on carpet rather than in the truck. His eyes slowly focused and he could see he was facing a wall. The last thing to return was his hearing as he finally understood the buzzing in his ears was actually voices from the other side of the room. He rolled over.
“Are you okay, Tar?” Roger asked. He was a couple of feet away, leaning against the end of a couch with his hands tied.
Tar realized just how much his face hurt. He was also having trouble opening his left eye, and when he drew in a breath pain shot through his jaw. “I think so.”
“I was afraid Ludler was going to kill you. The man’s insane.”
“What did I do?”
Roger smiled. Sort of. “Apparently Father Eli told him to ride in the truck with us. He wasn’t very happy about that.” The grin left the doctor’s bruised face. “Tar, I’ve been thinking about what you said, about how Nataly protected me on the night of The Crash. I don’t think you’ve got it right. I think…”
Roger stopped whispering when a voice from the other side of the room interrupted.
“Ah! I see we are all awake now.” Father Eli walked toward them.
Tar saw a man who could have been someone’s grandfather or favorite uncle, gray hair sitting above wrinkled skin and slightly stooped shoulders. But no child would have wanted a bedtime story from someone with those cold eyes looking back at him. They were dark and reminded Tar of a doll’s eyes, lifeless and unfeeling. He looked away but the man behind Father Eli was just as frightening. Judging from the look on Ludler’s face he was still angry.
Father Eli noticed Tar’s gaze and laughed. “You really must excuse Captain Ludler. You see, I told him he had to ride back with you and, well, he would have preferred not to use a vehicle. Still, he should not have been quite so hard on you.” Father Eli glanced at Ludler and shook his head, pursing his lips in disapproval. “But, what’s done is done.”
“What are you going to do with us?” Tar asked.
“Do with you? I don’t quite know yet.” Father Eli walked over to the chair at the other end of the couch and sat. “You can guess what Captain Ludler wants to do,” he gestured toward the man as he spoke. “His men would be setting up a purification ceremony right now if I permitted it. It is the law, after all.” He reached over to the little table beside the chair and picked up Jahn’s app. It was only then that Tar noticed the rest of his backpack’s contents strung out across the floor. “But I prefer we talk.”
“We have nothing to say to you,” Roger said. “You’re a murderer.”
The smile faltered on Father Eli’s face but then returned, plastered on his lips without humor or good will. “Dr. Roger Pierinski, one of the main programmers on the WorldWideMind project. You, of all people, should not be casting stones. It was your project that gave me the means to bring judgment to all the abominations who tried to become God, marrying themselves with machines. If I am the murderer then you are, at the very least, my righteous weapon.”
Roger frowned, and Tar could see the rise and fall of his chest became more pronounced. “No! We had a fail-safe in the code,” he said, a rumble of aggression in his voice. “It allowed people to function if the Mind went down for whatever reason. Your virus overrode it. I…we were not to blame!”
“Splitting the hair a little fine, are we not, my good doctor? Without the Mind, millions of people would still be alive. Without MentConn and lab coats like yourself, there would have been no Mind. Without the Mind, I would still be just a normal Joe working a normal job and living in my normal house watching the Giants on my normal flat screen. So why don’t you tell me where all of this began?”
Tears ran down Roger’s face. “Who did you pay to create it? The polymorphic virus you put in the Mind?”
Father Eli threw his head back and laughed but Tar noticed how Ludler began swaying from foot to foot and sweating, which he thought was kind of odd behavior. Ludler looked like someone who wanted to be anywhere but where he was standing.
Father Eli’s laughter ended abruptly and he gave the doctor an intense look. “All you so-called intelligent people, you always underestimated me. I wrote Babylon.”
“Babylon?” asked Tar.
“In Ezekiel, chapter 21, God said he would wield the sword of Babylon in judgment to cut the righteous away from the wicked. Since God told me to cut away the machines from man the name was appropriate.”
“But how?” asked Roger. “That was the most complex code we’d ever seen.”
Father Eli’s smile returned. “Once I was just like you, making the machines do more and more, think on their own, like God’s greatest creation: man. Before I began more positive pursuits, however, I put together some pieces for the government.” He laughed. “I am sure you know some of my early work. SkyWiper was the most widely known.”
Roger shook his head in disbelief. “That program infected nearly every computer in the Middle East. It almost shut down everything from power plants to phone services. But it didn’t do any real damage. It…”
“It wasn’t meant to. You see, those were just add-ons, to keep people from finding out what we were really looking for: information. Without SkyWiper in 2012 our government would have never known where to strike to take out the nuclear weapons in 2018.” He paused and looked down at Jahn’s app before glancing back up at Tar. “Our information said you had a daughter, not a son. Is she a fixer, too? When we find a battery for this,” he shook the app, “will I find a list of the others?”
The blood rushed from Roger’s face but he remained silent.
“I watched a vid of you,” Tar said after a few seconds. “You were talking in front of a big crowd a few days before The Crash.” He shook his head toward Ludler. “He was there, standing behind you. So was Uncle Jahn.” This remark brought a sharp breath from the captain.
“Yes, that was our last major rally in San Francisco. We had gatherings all over the country that day. The biggest was in Washington D.C.” Father Eli pointed at Tar. “You want to know why I did it.”
Tar nodded.
“My son was a little younger than you are now when we found out he was sick. We both loved baseball and…one day he just fainted, right there on the diamond. They found a heart defect in one of his valves. The surgeon told us it needed to be taken care of right away but we need not worry because they had the best technology available for the surgery.” Father Eli looked away. “He died on the operating room table. The doctor blamed the computer.” He leaned forward and looked Tar in the face. “That is when I knew. That was my moment on the Damascus Road when Saul became Paul. I knew. We were relying too much on machines. We had turned away from what God had made us.
“At first I thought we should just scale things back, stop using the machines so much, keep man in control. But then MentConn came along.” He turned his gaze on Dr. Pierinski. “Our doctors could not perform a simple surgery yet somehow we thought we could improve upon the Creator’s design. I realized then that man was too weak. Too weak to resist the temptation laid out before him. God chose me to take that temptation away.”
“Uncle Jahn’s wife died because of you. You wouldn’t let her get treatment.”
Father Eli shook his head. “Martha died because God took her home to be with Him.”
The room fell quiet.
“But you didn’t come all this way just to find out why I created Babylon,” Father Eli continued. “Why did you come?”
Tar glanced at Roger but the doctor still had his head down, his shoulders shaking from his silent weeping.
“Hmmm,” Father Eli said. “A Mind programmer and a fixer but not the traitor.” Tar’s shoulders drooped at the thought of Jahn’s death. “Ah, it is only you two because the traitor is dead. What do
you think they wanted, Captain?”
The red had not left Ludler’s cheeks and Tar could almost feel the man’s anger.
“I don’t care,” he answered. “They need to be purified. The law says abominations should be purified.”
Father Eli raised his hand, patting the air and keeping his voice calm. “I know, I know. But what did they want? Why did they risk being caught by coming here? Why did a programmer and a fixer…” He snapped his fingers. “The Mind! They wanted to fix the Mind!”
Tar looked away but he knew Father Eli had seen the terror in his eyes.
“Ha, ha! Okay, then.” Father Eli rose to his feet, his face filled with glee. “Let’s give them what they want, Captain. Let’s show them the Mind.”
#
Father Eli and Ludler led the way across the street, as Tar and Roger stumbled to keep up, both weak from the beatings they had taken the night before. Tar was also having trouble seeing through red-rimmed eyes. Martinez and a half-dozen Black Shirts followed behind, prodding them from time to time.
They crossed to a sidewalk that snaked its way through a set of similar looking buildings. Tar stared at the brick with white board trim, the open spaces, and the trimmed green grass. Except for the area around the Winchester House he had never seen so much green thriving in one place. But that thought only reminded him of Marybelle and the screams he had heard when he and Toby escaped.
“Look to our right,” Roger whispered. “Just past this next building.”
As soon as they walked clear of the corner Tar saw four buildings cordoned by tall wire fences, enclosing the largest area yet. Although they were too far away for him to make out faces he saw large groups of people inside, some just staring off into the distance, others shuffling seemingly without purpose or direction.
“Who are they?” Tar asked.
“They are the Lost Ones,” said Father Eli over his shoulder, having noticed Tar’s stare.
“That’s where they keep the zoms,” Roger added.
Tar craned his neck to look some more but Martinez grabbed the back of his collar and shoved him forward. “Get moving,” the lieutenant growled.
Even still, as he limped forward, Tar defied the rough treatment, straining to see over the heads of the men, looking for one face in particular in the sea of human shells.
“Don’t make me tell you again,” said the lieutenant with menace in his voice.
Roger elbowed Tar and leaned his head forward. “Why do you keep them?” He spoke ahead to Father Eli. “Is it so you can gloat? Perhaps a reminder of what you’ve done?”
Father Eli turned to face them, a smoldering expression on his face, evidently shaken by the doctor’s accusation. Ludler had stopped, as well, and glared at them. Tar instinctively stepped back, bumping into Martinez, who shoved him forward. Father Eli’s jaw clenched and his narrowed eyes glowered.
“They are already suffering God’s punishment.” His voice rattled like gravel on the road. “It is our duty to care for the misfortunate lest we suffer their same fate. That is God’s law.” He gave a sudden smile, as if he had not been angry at all, then turned and led them on.
Tar and Roger exchanged glances before the Black Shirts pushed them into motion.
A minute later they approached a long, low building. Unlike the other maintained structures they had passed this one was in need of work; trim was missing in spots, several of the windows were just empty holes.
“The lab,” Roger whispered.
Bile churned in Tar’s stomach. His one last hope after Father Eli had said he was going to take them to the Mind was if he could somehow get close enough to touch it, to fix it, but with each stride closer he understood something was horribly wrong. They walked through the open doorway—one door hanging from its hinge, the other completely gone—and into the semi-dark beyond.
Father Eli led them to the end of a hallway, turned to the right, and stopped after a few steps. He gestured toward the room beside him. “This is where Ferguson—I believe you called him Uncle Jahn—started the fire.”
He could see the walls were black from smoke and the ceiling, what was left of it, was a melted slag of plastic and other materials, gaping holes revealing the metal rafters above.
What was missing was the smell. Tar expected his nose to be assaulted with the acrid remains of smoke and ash. Instead, the passage of time cleared the air and left it whole again.
“It’s all gone,” Roger said, his voice breaking with emotion.
Father Eli laughed and this time Ludler added a wicked smile, his dark gaze still boring into Tar.
“Oh, and that’s not all.” Father Eli walked toward the double metal doors at the end of the hall. Despite the tech box on the wall, he simply reached out and pushed them open. They swung back, hinges screeching in protest, and Father Eli walked into the room beyond. “Come,” he said.
Tar expected the room to be as dark as the hall. They followed but Tar saw the room was illuminated by rays of daylight beaming down through large holes in the ceiling, only girders bridging the gaps. High above, clouds floated on a backdrop of blue and Tar wondered if he was seeing the sky for the last time. He looked around and saw the room had been burned to the studs in the walls. He could not swallow.
Piles of melted machines were lined up in rows, still holding the spots they sat on the day they were destroyed. Tar’s chest felt hollowed out. His legs weakened. Everything was gone. Destroyed.
He barely heard Dr. Pierinski beside him, breathing, “Oh my God, oh my God…”
“Here you go, little fixer,” Father Eli said with a flourish. “Here is the Mind!”
The room spun.
“Can you fix that?” Father Eli’s laughter echoed off the bare walls.
Tar staggered sideways…and puked all over Lieutenant Martinez.
#
The sunlight warmed his face. A cool breeze helped stop his head from spinning. But deep down in Tar’s stomach a searing ball of acid still turned.
“Tar?” It was Roger’s voice.
Tar peered at the sky above, committing its deep blue and its billowy strips of white to memory. “It’s hopeless,” he murmured. “It’s gone. The Mind is gone.”
He saw Roger out of the corner of his eye but the doctor didn’t reply. Black Shirts watched them, some impassive, others with smug expressions. Father Eli and Ludler walked out of the lab building, back into the sunshine. Tar saw Ludler’s lips were pinched tight.
“Not quite what you expected to see, I’d wager,” said Father Eli as he approached, the same sickening-sweet smile on his face. He nodded at some Black Shirts to help them to their feet as he continued, “When Ferguson set the fire in the lab it spread through the conduits to the server room. Since the Mind was down, the halogen system could not shut off the gas so it was only a matter of minutes before everything was destroyed.” He laughed again. “The funny thing is that if Ferguson had set the fire even a half an hour sooner, before Babylon took out the fail-safe, the abominations would have been spared their judgment. There wouldn’t have been any zoms.”
He peered at the damaged building for a self-satisfied moment, then at Tar and the doctor. “But that is history and we need to talk about the future. Your future. Your reaction showed me something today, that some people out there still think the Mind will return and the old ways along with it. We need to put an end to that kind of thinking before it spreads.”
Father Eli looked at Ludler. “In two days we will hold a public gathering on campus and introduce our little fixer to the people.”
He smiled at Tar. “They are going to hear about what you are, see what you can do and they are going to understand that you are completely under our control. Then you are going to tell them about the Mind, tell them that it will never, ever return. That it is gone. Forever. You will be our example to everyone when they think about the way it used to be. You will be what they think of when they realize there is no hope o
f ever going back.”
Tar’s head started spinning again. Instead of feeling like he might hurl again the grass swayed beneath him. He took a deep breath, determined not to pass out.
“Dr. Pierinski, however, you will serve a different purpose. I believe the avid Captain Ludler is right. The people also need a reminder of what happens to those who don’t respect the law. Before our fixer speaks to the masses, you, my sinful doctor, will receive purification.”
Chapter 36
Tar raised his head and stared into the shadows by the door.
“Who is it? What do you want?”
Lieutenant Martinez stepped forward. For several long seconds he stared at Tar, then smiled a toothy grin that might have passed for a snarling predator.
“A clean uniform would be nice.”
Tar looked down at his feet. “You’ve been watching me a lot the last couple of days.”
“You’re a prisoner. What do you expect? Maybe I just wanted to see what the little fixer does next,” Martinez said with a laugh, then he sobered. “You don’t act like the other one.”
Tar jerked his head up.
“Ha! Yeah, there was another freak like you,” Martinez continued. “Jordie Thomas. What a fragged mess. Pale, skinny, no books. He never talked to nobody. He was in my class at school, just a few years back.”
Tar looked away, then wiped at his pants. “How’d you know he was a fixer?”
Martinez leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “Like I said, he never talked to nobody. Stayed off by himself. Then one day there was a fight, a nasty one with six or seven guys all goin’ total aggro on each other. Somehow Jordie got caught up on the edge of it. Next thing you know he’s on the ground and his bag pops open.” Martinez snorted. “He always had this old canvas piece of crap looped up over his shoulder. Anyways, all his junk spills out—bits of wire, pieces of metal, old tech—a big pile of it. Right there on the ground. Everybody stops, guys stop going at each other, and then music starts comin’ out of one of the apps. People freak out, he picks it all up and takes off like the fires of the Faithful are already burning his ass. They go to his house, where he lived with his grandma, and find tons of apps, all of them working.”
