by Craig Gaydas
Now I realized the reasoning behind Janero bringing the guard with us. It wasn't to deter an escape attempt by me, but rather to protect us from them. My heart sank with the realization that I would never escape this place. If the guards didn't get me, the mutants would.
“Come, let's move on.” Janero continued and I followed. After about a quarter mile I started to see the signs of a tunnel in the distance. “We will go as far as that tunnel but no further.”
“Why's that?” I asked.
He chuckled dryly. “Because one guard won't be enough to protect us against what lies beyond.”
I swallowed hard. “So I wanted to talk about this war of yours.” I followed Janero's guard so close I practically rode piggyback. I had no desire to get jumped by another one of the mutants. “It must have happened a long time ago because the air is no longer poisonous.”
“Ah yes, you did ask that question earlier didn't you. I apologize but in all the confusion I had forgotten.” The buildings eventually receded in the distance and we came across some of the plains that Janero mentioned. It was nothing more than open flatland with sparse patches of spiny weeds and tufts of grass. Ahead the road led toward what looked to be the remains of a train station and beyond that was the tunnel. “You are correct, the war happened long ago. It has been over a hundred years but to be honest I lost track of time in that span.”
“Are you trying to tell me you are over a hundred years old?” I asked dubiously.
He touched the side of his face, tracing the lines of his scars with his fingertip. “I think so, although I have to admit I have lost track of time. Some days I feel like a spry teenager, other days I feel like an elder.” We stopped in front of the train station. “I outlived the survivors. Sometimes I believe that's a curse more than a blessing. I cheated death, Nathan. I don't know how and I don't know why but I do know this; surviving death has a way of changing a man.” His jaw hardened and he bit his lower lip. “I was an Elite. I never had to worry about money, entertainment, or where my meal would come from. I had the highest quality clothes and enjoyed the best out of life. My father was an engineer for Gentix. He helped develop some of the very bio-weapons that destroyed us. He died during the initial Grunt revolt. They shot him in the face as he pleaded for his life.”
“I'm sorry,” I offered. I had no idea what to say. I figured it would be better if he just got it off his chest.
He held up his hand. “There is no need for that. Whether we were Elite or Grunt it made no difference. In the end we were nothing more than stupid savages who preyed on each other. When I crawled from the shelter three weeks after the war I looked at the destruction we wrought and cried. I was nothing more than a thirteen-year-old kid alone in the world. For a week I did nothing but cry, forage and sleep. After a week I decided to do something else.”
“What did you do?” I asked. The explorer in me took an interest in his story.
“I came across my first mutant and barely escaped with my life, that's what happened,” he responded bitterly. “I couldn't survive on my own. I made my way to my father's lab in an attempt to find anything that would help; weapon, food, shelter, anything. The only thing I found were journals detailing his research, a super computer and a still functioning robot. Before the end Gentix had been researching ways to create an android army to bolster the military's ranks and help in the war against the Grunts.”
We stepped into the train terminal. Our guard pressed ahead and swept the area to make sure no hidden threats laid within the tangled overgrowth inside. Thick vines wrapped around overhead computer screens and ticket counters, encircling them like an anaconda around its prey. Despite the heavy vegetation, the similarities to train stations I had seen on Earth was eerie. Janero kicked at ceiling chunks which had fallen long ago.
“My first order of business was to get the robot running. As I look back I think it was more of my desire for companionship more than any strategic maneuver. I'm glad I did though, because once the robot was functional he proved invaluable. He could forage for food, cook, clean, hunt and build. The first thing I used him to build was another robot using metal scavenged from nearby vehicles and machines and wiring from broken computer systems, inoperable vehicles and wherever else we could locate some. I was successful in getting communication systems up and running and learned my planet was officially dead. When I got the camera systems online, all I saw was nothing but death and destruction.”
“Nuclear winter,” I muttered.
Janero cocked his head. “Excuse me?”
“Oh sorry I was just remembering some things we learned in school about post-apocalyptic war scenarios. Creating survival scenarios was a big thing during the Cold War period. The books described the time following a nuclear war as nuclear winter. It was also big theme for a lot of video games. As a matter of fact—”
“Video games?” he interrupted.
“Yeah, it's these things we used play on a television,” I explained. “We had several different systems that we could play them on and stuff.”
“Oh,” he said as his interest in the subject waned. “Anyway, I eventually built ten robots using scavenged material. Using some of my father's journals I integrated defense weaponry into their specifications so I could travel outside and defend myself against mutant attacks. After I completed robot number ten I named them 'the Reborn'.”
“The Reborn?” I repeated.
“I desired to reshape the history of Gorganna,” he stated. “I wanted the Reborn to be an example of how a perfect society should live.”
I thought that a bit strange but assumed that everyone reacts differently when they discover their world had been destroyed. I had first-hand knowledge on the subject. “So how many of these Reborn do you have?”
Janero fingered a patch of moss covering the keyboard of a computer terminal. “I lost count at forty but I'm pretty sure the number is closer to fifty.”
“That sure is a lot of robots to defend against mutants,” I responded suspiciously.
Janero stopped playing with the moss and turned to me with a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You are smarter than you look, Nathan.” He proceeded to a staircase which led down to the tunnel. Next to the staircase were the remains of a vending machine. He stuck his hand inside and moved it around, as if he was looking for something. “I built twenty after Corvus approached me.” He removed his hand, covered in grease and dirt. He looked at it with disdain and rubbed it on his pants. “I am still scavenging for material, but with his help I was able to build more.”
“Why?” I asked. I wondered why he needed so many robots.
Janero smiled and wagged his finger back and forth. “Oh no, you won't get me to reveal our strategy no matter how crafty you are.”
I had an overwhelming desire to pry for more information. “Okay, so be it. What about your alliance with Corvus? Why do you ally yourself with a bunch of murderers and kidnappers?”
Janero scratched his chin and glanced at our companion. “Seventeen, can you please go downstairs and make sure it's clear?” He watched the robot descend into the gloom of the tunnel before turning to me. “Corvus' allies are his own to choose. I realize he does what he does in order to achieve his goals. I have no control over what his allies do. Corvus himself has not murdered or kidnapped anyone.”
“What about me?” I asked incredulously.
Janero offered me a wry smile. “Corvus had you brought here in order to convince you to join us. Despite what you may think, we share a common goal.”
“Oh, and what's that?”
“To stop the Consortium,” he swept the room dramatically with his hand, “To make sure that this doesn't happen again.”
“The Consortium had nothing to do with this,” I argued.
“True,” he replied coldly. “But did they do anything to stop it? They are supposedly self-proclaimed galactic defenders. We had no contact at all from them. They had the power to stop this and they sat back and did n
othing. How many more planets will end up like this as a result of their inaction?”
Before I answered, I contemplated the question. It wasn't inaction on their part that ruined Earth. The irony of the situation is inaction on their part may have saved Earth but his point was made. The Consortium had been responsible for too much destruction either through their actions or their inactions. Janero's words may have been poisoned honey, but they had a ring of truth.
“Join us,” Janero urged. “Together we can make sure what happened to our planets will never happen again.”
I had to admit the offer was tempting. The chance to adventure with Sam once again appealed to me, but then I thought of Lianne. I wondered if she would ever forgive me if I joined Corvus. Would Satou understand? Would Embeth? But then I thought of Shai and my wrist began throbbing with remembrance. My hatred for him trumped any other feeling I had. I hated him more than Calypso, more than Corvus even more than Meta. It was impossible for me to align myself with such a person.
“I'm sorry, Janero. I can't,” I replied. “I need to return to my friends.”
His look of disappointment shone through the gloom of the train station. “I'm sorry you feel that way.”
At that moment Seventeen came up the stairs. “The area is secure, sir.”
“Thank you,” Janero replied. “I suppose there isn't much more to talk about since you have made your decision.” He made his way to the exit with Seventeen in tow.
“Hey, wait,” I called out. “Does this mean I am free to go?”
“We shall see,” he replied.
Homecoming
I stared out the stained glass window, deep in thought. Although Janero seemed pleasant enough I still questioned his motives. What did he need from me? I kept returning to that same question. I wasn't a soldier, I wasn't a strategist nor did I command vast armies. He wanted to bring the Insurgents over to his side but there would be no guarantee I would be able to convince them to do the same.
A knock from the door dragged me from my thoughts. I opened the door to reveal a grim face. “Well, lookie here,” I mused. “It's a ghost from my past.”
Sam smiled wryly. “Hello, Nathan.”
My gaze drifted past him and I almost slammed the door shut in a panic. The largest wolf I had ever seen padded in a circle behind Sam. My robot guards were busy watching it, unsure if it was friend or foe.
“What the hell is that?” I gasped, backing into the room.
“That's my friend, Claw.” Sam narrowed his eyes toward the guards and addressed the wolf. “Claw, stay here and guard those two.” The wolf growled and sat next to the closest guard.
Sam entered the room and closed the door behind him. He took a seat on the couch and lit a cigarette. “Hey, this room is much better than mine,” he joked.
“Smoking is a bad habit,” I quipped. I took a seat on the bed and studied him. He looked older than the last time I saw him. His goatee seemed grayer and lines of age road mapped their way around his face. It was hard for me to believe that this version of Sam was my old friend. His age made him nothing more than a stranger to me.
Sam inhaled deeply and nodded. “Yeah, you're right,” he coughed and looked at the cigarette like it was the first time he had ever seen one.
“What do you want, Sam?” I asked distrustfully.
An expression of pain flashed across his face. “I see you still don't trust me.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I don't know you Sam. You're not the Sam I remember.”
He nodded slowly and took another drag. “I came to you for help, Nathan. I hope you could at least hear me out.”
“You need help from me?” I asked cynically. “I definitely need to hear this.” A low growl came from outside. Apparently one of the robots moved a little too close to Sam's pet. I smiled as I imagined the scene outside the door.
“I'm concerned with Corvus' allies, Nathan.” Sam tugged on his hoop earring anxiously. “He is growing impatient and is beginning to recruit anyone who stumbles through the door. I am beginning to think his desire to destroy the Consortium is overriding his common sense.”
My smile faded. Shai immediately came to mind. “I could have told you that,” I replied sourly. “It started with Calypso and hasn't stopped. It won't stop, Sam, until he destroys his enemies.”
“You're probably right. That is why I need your help.” Sam replied somberly. “Don't get me wrong, I respect Corvus and his decisions until recently. We have been through a lot together.”
“We were through a lot together,” I muttered bitterly.
Sam sulked. “I know, Nathan.”
“Why come to me?” I asked. “I can't control the decisions he makes.”
“True,” he agreed. “But you have influence with the Insurgents. I need your help bringing them to our side.”
I shook my head. “I have already had this discussion with Janero. There is no way they would join forces with a murdering scumbag like Shai.”
Sam dropped his face into the palms of his hands. “I know, Nathan.” For a long time he remained in that position, breathing heavily through his fingers. Finally after several moments passed he looked up. “When we were kids I loved you like a brother.”
I looked down and kicked at a dust ball the size of a cotton ball. “I know, Sam.”
His face hardened and he sucked on the cigarette. “Now I am coming to you as a brother. The Consortium has been rotting from the inside for a long time. You know that,” he pleaded. “Corvus needs everyone he can get to accomplish that. As it currently stands he can't win.”
“So what?” I looked up. His face changed to a mask of shock and confusion. “Who cares if he loses? The Insurgents are determined to defeat the Consortium. We will do it without the assistance of murderers and thieves. If you really want to help then get me out of here.”
Sam stood. The look of disappointment on his face cut me like a knife, but I remained resolute. “I'm sorry you feel that way. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the Insurgents will not win either. The only way the Consortium can be defeated is by combining our forces.” He turned and tossed the cigarette into the vacu-toilet before heading to the door.
“Sam,” I called.
His hand rested on the door handle. Without turning he responded. “Yes?”
I stood but when I did my wrist started to throb, reminding me that my hand was still missed. “Join us, Sam. Forget Corvus. Take me back to the Insurgents, we will defeat the Consortium together.”
He did not respond and instead opened the door. The two guards stood across from the wolf in a twisted parody of a Mexican standoff as they eyeballed each other. Sam stepped into the hall and turned around with sadness in his eyes. “I can't do that, Nathan.” He closed the door without another word.
Two days passed before anyone else came to visit. Fortunately I had enough food and water left over from Janero's initial offering. I passed the time by counting the stones in the ceiling and thinking about the welfare of my friends. Occasionally I heard people pass my door on their way to other areas of the church, but their muffled voices were unidentifiable. As the time passed I began to refer to the church as a prison. It wasn't until my third day of confinement that Janero finally returned.
“I'm saddened by your decision,” he mourned.
I held up my stump. “If you knew what I have been through, you wouldn't be so sad.”
He looked at the disfigurement and nodded slowly. “You are probably right. Corvus and I agree that it would be unwise to release you.” He lowered himself on the couch and studied me.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“We feel you might be inclined to reveal to your friends what you have seen,” he explained. “Sam told me everything. He had explained our current strategic position and strength to you. I can't release you with that information.”
Sam betrayed me. I was speechless.
“I'm judging by your silence that you are reevaluating your position?”
Janero inquired.
“No,” I replied softly.
He stood up, clearly disappointed. “I'm sorry to hear that. I'm afraid we will have to reevaluate your situation.” He surveyed the room. “Normally these accommodations are reserved for people who are essential personnel.”
“So I am no longer convenient for you?” I growled. “What are you going to do, throw me to the mutants?”
Janero's demeanor grew colder. “We are not quite the savages you make us out to be.” He turned and opened the door. “I choose to deal with…problems…swiftly.” He stepped into the hall and the door slammed shut.
Break Out
When I first heard the commotion outside my door, I thought it was part of the dream I was having. I dreamt I was back on Earth before everything went to hell. I was in my house, enjoying a nice bowl of Hamburger Helper (don't knock it until you try it) and watching an episode of Family Guy when the commotion began. I originally thought it came from my parent's bedroom upstairs but then I was jarred from the dream. The noise was actually coming from outside my door. It sounded like the two guards outside were involved in a scuffle.
“What the hell?” I muttered. Soft thuds were quickly replaced by loud crashes. As soon the sounds started, they ceased. A long silence followed and I sat up briskly, straining to hear. The only noise coming from the room was the droning buzz of the overhead lights.
The door handle turned and I froze. With everything I had been through during the past 24 hours my mind pictured a ten foot tall mutant stepping through the door, coming to munch on my bones. Someone stepped through the doorway but it wasn't a mutant gorilla or flying monkey-shark-dragon thing. It was Thirty-Five. His eyes found me cowering on my bed. I noticed that they were green. In his hand he clutched the head of one of my robot guards.
He dropped it and uttered a single word. Although it had been only one word I heard the difference. It was less mechanical but sounded forced, as if it was coming from another source. It was one word which jolted me into action.
