Revolution: A Red Dog Thriller (The Altered Book 3)
Page 18
What a strange place this was becoming. Wyatt had no experience being treated as if he was rich, but had more than enough time with people acting like he was a special flower. “My name is Wyatt, not sir, Olivia, and what I’d really like is breakfast. What’s your name?” he asked the man, extending his hand.
The man didn’t reply and Olivia took Wyatt’s hand instead. “He’s Quin. And we’re not allowed to address you by name. Didn’t anyone explain the rules before you moved in?”
“Rainbow met us, but didn’t go through the rules.” He thought he saw her lips briefly turn down at the name, but she quickly recovered, smiling broadly.
“That’s fine. How about I take you to your area and get you all something in your bellies?”
Teri tapped him on the hip, making him look down.
“Let’s eat here,” she signed.
“You’re not supposed to,” signed Olivia back… or at least that’s what Wyatt thought she said. “Your lunch room is much better furnished and has much nicer food. Don’t you want to eat there?”
“No, I want to eat here. We’re hungry.”
“Well, I guess…”
“Oliv, they’re not supposed to eat in here.”
“No, that’s not true. We’re not allowed to eat with guests, and guests never—ever—eat in here, but that’s because they don’t want to. If Wyatt and his friends want to, why not? It’s a rule… anything for a guest, as long as it doesn’t hurt another guest. Guests are always right.”
Quin paled at that, a strange reaction, thought Wyatt.
“Of course, anything for a guest. I’m sorry, sir. We’ll set a table for you.”
Teri signed, “No, we sit with…” Olivia, Wyatt thought she signed.
“That’s…” said Quin.
Olivia waved him off. “That’s what the guest wants. Follow me to the buffet,” she said to Teri, “you’ll be my special guest today.”
Teri followed, Wyatt right behind her. Under his breath, but loud enough that she could hear, he said, “Special is about right.”
Teri clicked once, quietly, and gave a kick to the back of his calf.
Whatever his faults were, Wyatt had a good sense of balance, and managed to not fall over. “I have to get someone to teach me some special signs for my special little friend,” he said.
With a stuttered laugh, Teri came even with him and took his hand, looking up at him with affection.
“Goof,” he said and took a plate. The buffet was simple, but welcome. Eggs, bacon, sausages, and hash browns filled several large stainless steel chaffing dishes. Wyatt filled his plate and returned to get coffee and orange juice. When he found a tray of pancakes, he filled up a second plate before returning to the group.
“Hey,” he said, sitting down. Olivia introduced the two women at the table as Cyndi and Sam. This complete, he dug in, his mission briefly forgotten.
“Wow,” he eventually said, his two plates half empty. “I figured it’d be survival food from bags or tins.”
“When the world ends, there’ll be a lot of that. We’ve got piles and piles of stores, but until then, we get fresh food delivered daily.”
Cyn coughed.
“What? He’s a guest, we can talk about this with him.”
“It’s weird,” she replied.
Sam nodded agreement.
Wrapping a piece of bacon in a slice of heavily buttered bread, Wyatt asked, “What is?” Weird, that is.”
The three other women shared a look, and Olivia answered. “We don’t talk to guests, and we never sit and eat with them.”
Sam laughed. “Oh God, no, never. This is totally strange. I keep expecting some Prat to come yell at me.”
“Prat?”
“Praetorians, that’s what the guards are called.”
As the women bantered, Wyatt focused on his plate, refilled it twice, and watched the rest of the room watch them. The one common thread among the workers was that they were good looking. That, and they were a nervous lot. The loud conversations and laughter that had been present as they’d walked down the hallway was gone now. Everyone talked in whispers, bodies pulled closer to tables, heads in so that whatever they were saying wouldn’t carry. He assumed that they were the subject of the conversations.
A tap on his hand brought his attention back to the table. He glanced at Teri, raising an eyebrow.
“Olivia was talking about the facility,” she said.
“Sorry, I tuned out.”
“They… we… were signing,” said Olivia.
“You’re good at it. Does everybody here know how to sign?”
Olivia shook her head, “My mother was deaf. These two dopes,” she said, pointing towards Sam and Cyn, “can’t sign. Cyn speaks Spanish, though, and Sam, Italian.”
“Wow, impressive.”
She shrugged. “It’s something that the founders look for when they hire… language skills, education, anything that can help the community function when society breaks down.” The way she said the last part led Wyatt to suspect she didn’t believe it would happen anytime soon.
“Are there a lot of you?”
“Staff?” asked Olivia, sipping at her coffee. “Around a hundred are on at any time. We work for a month, then we have a month off.”
“And how about the inhabitants?”
“What about them?”
“Are there many?” Wyatt asked.
“The Palna can hold three-hundred, but there are only about a third of that here, usually. It increases from time to time, like after the last election, but once things don’t blow up, people go back to their lives.”
Swirling the coffee around the mug, he asked—as nonchalantly as possible, “There must be a lot of other support, if this place is meant for the end of the world. Are there doctors, medical facilities?”
“Down blue wing is a fully functional hospital, if you need anything. I noticed you’re bleeding, would you like me to take you?”
Wyatt checked his arm, but the wound was covered by his sleeve. “Bleeding?”
Olivia pointed to the hand not holding coffee. “Your hand.”
Oh, yes, he’d not covered it. Well, this provided as good an excuse as any. “Yes, I cut it…” he started, but didn’t manage to come up with a good explanation. “Blue wing?”
“You didn’t get any tour at all, did you?”
He shook his head, “No, we were a last-minute addition.”
She hesitated and then asked, “Is something going on out there?”
“Liv!” exclaimed Sam.
She blushed. “Sorry, not supposed to probe guests for information, but you’re different from the rest of them.”
“It’s okay, but I don’t understand… what do you mean about something going on?” he asked, resenting her probing and wasn’t about to tell her anything about what was happening in Detroit.
“It’s just… well, people arriving in a hurry, this is a shelter from the apocalypse… I can’t help but wonder. We don’t get any news and it’s easy to get a bit paranoid.”
Wyatt smiled and relaxed. “Oh, no, it’s not the end of the world, not yet at least.”
“Good to hear. And to answer your question, there are five wings that each fan out from the great hall. Blue is the medical and scientific area. There is red wing where the leaders live.”
“There aren’t leaders,” interjected Cyn.
“Sure, of course, I meant… well, anyhow, there are gold and green, the residences for everyone else.”
“What wing do you live in?”
“We call it gray wing, but it doesn’t have a title. You’re in it.”
“And security, they live here with you?” he asked, but was focused on the medical and scientific wing. That’s where the doctors would be.
“The Prats? God no, they wouldn’t stay with us. They have their own quarters, outside of the five wings, and they aren’t allowed in here without permission.”
Wyatt wiped up the last egg with his la
st piece of bread, and nodded absentmindedly. “My hand is hurting,” he lied. “Perhaps we should make our way to the medical wing. Can you show us the way?”
Olivia paled, and he quickly backtracked. “Just point, I don’t mean…” he said, but stopped when he noticed she was looking over his shoulder.
Almost as one, the workers in the room stood from their food and all conversation ceased. Wyatt turned to see Rainbow walking down the corridor towards them, a black clad guard with them.
“I thought the guards weren’t allowed inside?”
“Not without permission,” Olivia whispered, her lips hardly moving.
Rainbow had a shirt on, thank goodness for small blessings, thought Wyatt. She ignored the workers and made a beeline for Wyatt.
“Are you’re lost? I’m surprised that these hosts didn’t show you back to one of the proper lunchrooms,” she said, favoring Olivia and Sam with a disapproving glance.
“Oh, they tried, but we insisted,” said Wyatt, not wanting to get them in trouble. “Guests are always right, aren’t we?” It appears not everyone agrees. Someone must have reported that we were here… one of the other workers.
The smile didn’t fade, but her voice gained a slight chill that matched her hands. “We’re always right when we’re doing right.”
Well, that didn’t make much sense.
“It’s my fault you haven’t been introduced to our rules yet,” interjected Rainbow, the desire to avoid confrontation clearly marked on her face and in her tone. “This incident isn’t your fault.”
“Incident?” asked Wyatt. “We had breakfast, is that a problem?”
“There aren’t problems, only solutions. And you three,” she said with a sideways glance at Olivia and Sam, “Can go with Praetorian Wendell.”
“Why are they being taken away?”
“Don’t worry about them.”
“I worry that they’re in trouble because of some stupid rule,” he said, earning a frown. Teri grabbed his hand and gave it a little squeeze. Don’t make enemies unnecessarily. With an internal groan, he continued, “Excuse me, what I meant to say was, I don’t want to get them in trouble just because I was stupid enough to abuse my powers as a guest here.”
The frown disappeared, replaced by another broad smile.
“It’d be a favor to me if they were forgiven for this transgression.” A soft click from Teri indicated she was pleased with his revised approach. “We were directed here by other guests, but we’ll be happy to learn more about how we can better fit into this new world.”
Chapter 22
Rainbow led them back to the main area, the guard leaving them behind. She chattered nervously. “It’s my fault. I should have told you.”
“Told us what?” asked Wyatt. “So, we talked to some of the workers and ate in the wrong room.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
Teri followed quietly, one hand holding onto Wyatt. “I thought we were all equal here,” said Wyatt. “Didn’t you say that when we got here late last night?”
“Well, we are. But separate. The workers don’t live here, they’re hired—and well paid, well treated—but they didn’t pay to be here.”
“And the guards?”
“The Praetorians aren’t hired, they helped… um… liberate the Palna from those who built it. We have a deal with them.”
For an egalitarian co-op, this place had a lot of rules, thought Wyatt. “What’s the deal?”
Her face flush, Rainbow stuttered momentarily. “When Palna was built, the original owners wrote up procedures for who would be allowed in, when society breaks down. The guards they hired were told they could stay, and would be paid, but their families weren’t welcome.”
With a chuckle, Wyatt said, “I’m sure that went over well… if the world ends, your family dies, but you can keep working for us. Is that how it was supposed to work?”
“Yes. The first owners weren’t as generous.”
“Nor as smart.”
“So, now the guards—the Praetorians—can bring in family?”
“Exactly.”
“And why do they keep you—us—around?”
“The new occupants are vetted by a council, people with enough money to keep everything running. Everyone needs to be paid, we all need food, and the building requires regular upgrades. The money gives everything the Palna needs. Because the Praetorians aren’t rich, they need to continue to recruit guests.”
And if the world ends, when the mutant virus infects the world, or zombies rise from the ground… will they still need your money?
“They live around the outer ring of the Palna, in their own areas, with their own stores. This way, they can protect us from the mass of people who will arrive when society falls apart.”
And this way, you keep them separate as well, protecting yourselves. “And you expect this—the end—soon?” asked Wyatt, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“Of course. The wealthy have taken more than their share… people will rise up once they realize how unfair it all is.”
She seems to forget that she’s one of the wealthy… or perhaps she’s smarter than she seems, which is why she’s already locked herself away from the world.
“And we continue to toy with nature, going against the natural order. Sooner or later, something will go wrong.”
This led Wyatt to remember his own unnatural nature and his goals for the day. Enough chatter. “Rainbow, can you bring me to the medical wing? I cut my hand on the way here,” he said, holding up his wounded palm.
“Oh,” she exclaimed and picked up the pace. “Blue is this way. That looks like it hurts.”
They passed two long halls, each with their own accent color. There weren’t signs, but now that he knew the color coding, it made some sense.
Down blue, unlike the residential halls, the doors had windows, there was no carpeting, and the art on the walls had a scientific bent. Slowing as he passed rooms, he glimpsed in as best he could. Some had what appeared to be waiting rooms, and others contained scientific equipment and men in lab coats. He would have to check them out later.
“All the rooms in the first half of the hall are where medical services are provided. We’ve given doctors free residence in return for their help. If it was available to outsiders, this would be considered one of the top medical facilities in the country,” she said with pride. “The equipment is all up to date, cutting edge, even.”
Teri gave his hand a tug, drawing his attention. She let him go and signed quickly. “Down the hall,” she signed.
“What’s your sister want?” asked Rainbow.
“She’s very impressed,” he lied. “What’s further down the hall?”
“Science stuff. In case we need to find a cure for some super virus, or figure out how radioactive the environment is, that sort of thing, or so they tell me. I’m not a science type. I’ve got a master of fine arts.”
“You don’t say,” he said in as interested a voice as he could muster.
“Oh, yes, I’m using my time here to write a novel.”
“Delightful,” he said, keeping an eye on Teri. She’d taken his hand back, and when she saw him look down, she nodded down the hallway and gave him a little tug.
Rainbow stopped. “Here we are.”
Teri gave his hand another tug, looking pointedly down the hall. “A tickle?” he asked, not sure how to sign it. She responded with a single click and a nod of her head.
“What’s that?” asked Rainbow.
“Oh, well… I’ve got this other thing, a little tickle. Can we pick up the tour again after this?”
“I don’t mind staying,” said Rainbow enthusiastically.
“I’ll want to talk to the doctor about something else. It’s private.”
“Oh, don’t be a shy guy, we’re all adults here. I’ve got a couple things as well. We can compare notes.”
Teri made a sound that was halfway between a coug
h and a laugh. Wyatt gave her a dirty look and turned back to Rainbow. “I’m a private person, I hope you understand.”
Rainbow hesitated, the smile leaving her face. “But you know, I’m….” she said and then paused.
You’re supposed to stay and keep an eye on us? “We’re free to move around the main areas, right? I mean, I paid…” how much had he paid? “A lot of money.”
“Yes, of course, you’re free to go to any of the common areas.”
“And here? We can use the medical facilities that I’ve paid for?”
“Well, sure you can.”
“Without an escort?”
Rainbow’s nonsmile turned into a frown. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Thank you then,” Wyatt said, dismissing her. He opened the door and waved Teri through. Stepping after her, he smiled at their host, nodded to her and shut the door before she could follow them through.
“Too rough?” he signed.
“Just right,” Teri replied.
The waiting room was empty, a bright white space with chairs along the walls. There was a second door, with a palm reader on next to it. “Scan and state the nature of your requirements,” said a sign over it.
Wyatt counted out twenty seconds, and the two returned to the main hallway. Rainbow was no longer in sight. “You said it’s a tickle? Can you be more specific?”
Teri didn’t reply, instead walking the hallway slowly, going from door to door, pausing at each briefly before moving on. Twenty yards and many doors later, they came to the end and one closed door—the first without any windows on it, and also the first with a palm reader. Wyatt gave the knob a twist and wasn’t surprised when it didn’t turn. He didn’t want to chance the reader. It would record his print, and there wasn’t any chance he had access.
“Let’s go back. We don’t want to be seen standing around the door, and this hallway is way too exposed,” said Wyatt, walking slowly away. “We’ll need to figure out who—or what—is in there, later. Perhaps some of the others have had luck finding our DNA specialist.”
As slow as he was walking, Teri was slower, her hand a light anchor.