It would probably take Ken two trips. Well, maybe three – he would have to help or carry her up the stairs too.
That done, we drove north for three kilometres and then west until we crossed the Maribyrnong River at the Raleigh Road bridge. From there we headed south down to Footscray, stopping just out of sight of the town walls and its western gatehouse.
We drove cautiously, wearing night vision goggles and with Madison up top operating the machine gun in case there were any Skel skulking around. Turned out we didn’t need to worry, though, for the Skel were too busy trying to counteract our slave-rescue missions to bother laying ambushes near Newhome.
Leaving the Bushmaster and 4WD hidden in an underground garage behind us, we retired to a run-down two-storey brick house that gave us a great view of the town. We spent the next three days and nights studying the Custodians assigned to the western gatehouse’s guard tower.
On the third night, when it was two hours past midnight, Shorty woke me from where I was snatching a few hours sleep on a threadbare, smelly mattress.
“Delta Company’s on wall duty,” he said.
“Captain Smithson there?” I asked as I regained my feet.
“And Lieutenant Xiao.”
“About time. Wake up everyone, okay? I’ll go take a look.”
Although the town spotlights didn’t reach across the river to the house in which we were hiding, I still approached the upstairs bedroom window carefully, keeping low to avoid being seen. Holding my night vision binoculars to a hole in the tattered, stained curtains, I studied the Custodians in the guard tower. I could see Lieutenant Xiao standing at the bulletproof glass, looking out into the night, his handsome face appearing a sickly green because of the binoculars. Four other men were in the tower, but none was the captain. Still, if Shorty said he saw him, he was there, probably on the ground reviewing the guards near the gates.
“Delta Company’s finally decided to show up?” Leigh grumbled as he, Nanako, Madison, Shorty, and David gathered in the hallway outside the bedroom.
“Looks that way,” I said as I slunk out of the room on my hands and knees to join them.
“So?”
“So, it’s show-time.”
“What are you going to do, walk up to the gates, knock, and ask for the captain?”
“No, we are going to drive the Bushmaster to the gates, knock, and ask for the captain,” Madison said.
“Isn’t that a little obvious? Won’t everyone hear us?” Leigh asked, his eyes wide.
“Only the Custodians at the wall will hear us, and maybe some civilians who’ll either be half-asleep or who wouldn’t give a hoot. They hear Bushmasters driving around all the time.”
“Besides, they can’t shoot us if we’re in the Bushmaster.” Shorty grinned up at Leigh, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Although Shorty spoke the truth, the trip across the Lynches Bridge and the short hop to the western gatehouse was still fraught with tension. I knew the Custodians didn’t have any anti-tank weapons, but I couldn’t get the fear out of my mind that Smithson and Xiao might have changed their tune since we last saw them.
The roof hatch closed, Shorty braked the Bushmaster ten meters from the gatehouse’s iron doors. Spotlights mounted high on the twelve-foot walls transfixed our vehicle with their powerful beams and lit us up like a Christmas tree.
Riding in the driver’s compartment, I kept my eyes fixed on the guard tower while wondering if they would contact us through the speakers or the Bushmaster’s radio.
“What now?” Leigh asked from the passenger compartment.
“We wait,” I said.
“Hey, did you hear about the three Skel who walked into a house?” Shorty said.
“Not now, mate,” I said.
“You’d think one of them would have seen it.”
David and Leigh broke into a fit of giggling.
“Can it, you lot,” Madison said. “They’re talking!”
“Occupants of Bushmaster, identify yourselves!” boomed a voice from the guard tower.
“This is Sergeant Ethan Jones and Specialist Madison Taylor reporting for duty, Lieutenant Xiao,” I replied, speaking into the vehicle’s microphone.
“How did you get your hands on a Bushmaster?” Xiao asked.
“It’s the one you saw us driving in December – the one King took to Hamamachi.”
“What’s in the trailer?”
“Supplies. Would you like to inspect them?”
“That I would, but before I do, have your people disembark and lie face down in front of the gates with their hands on their heads.”
Madison leaned into the driver’s compartment and switched off the microphone. “What’s he think is in the trailer, a nuclear bomb?”
“That’s exactly what he’s thinking if he knows about the biotoxin attack on Hamamachi,” David said.
I turned the microphone back on. “I have a counter proposal. How about Captain Smithson meets me at the gate, one-on-one?”
“This isn’t negotiable, Jones.”
“You’re sounding awfully jittery, Xiao. You worried about something?” I said.
“General Cho placed the town on high alert two days ago, saying that a deadly attack from Hamamachi is imminent. And now, you lot suddenly turn up out of the blue. This is no coincidence.” The lieutenant sounded genuinely worried.
“Come on, Xiao, you know me! If we were going to attack Newhome, your guard tower exploding would have been the only advanced warning given you. Now get the Captain. Please.”
A minute passed.
“Did you hear about the Skel–” Shorty began.
I placed a finger against his lips. He pouted and made as if to cry.
“Oh, go on then.” A bit of comic relief was probably what we needed right now.
“Did you hear about the Skel who fired his crossbow at the ground?”
“Nope.”
“He missed.”
That one elicited a laugh, but it caught in my throat when the twelve-foot metal gates unexpected split down the middle. The one on the right opened slightly, and Captain Smithson strode out wearing full combat gear including his helmet.
Relieved that he still trusted me, I climbed into the passenger compartment, pushed past everyone, and unlocked the rear door.
Nanako caught my arm. “Be careful.”
I met her beautiful brown eyes, touched as always by her concern. “I will.”
I swung the heavy door open and walked slowly around the blocky armoured vehicle, taking care to keep my hands at my sides. Reaching the captain, I saluted respectfully. As far as I was concerned, I was still a Custodian sergeant.
Captain Smithson appraised me, then returned the salute. “I concur with Xiao, Jones. Your being here now is no coincidence. Have you come to attack Newhome?”
“I would never attack Newhome, sir, you know that.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Captain, you sent me and my foragers out there to save the town from the external threat posed by the Rangers and the Skel. That’s a mission we carried out successfully with Specialist Madison Taylor’s assistance. Now we’ve come to save the town from its greatest internal threat – the chancellor and his oppressive regime,” My voice wavered as I spoke. If I couldn’t get the captain and Delta Company on our side, this uprising was over before it began.
“Why now, Jones? What’s changed? Why has General Cho warned us that an attack from Hamamachi is imminent?”
“Because he sent the Specialist girls to poison Hamamachi’s water supply with a biotoxin that would kill forty percent of the town’s population. We only just managed to stop them in time, by the way.”
“So that’s why you’re here – to kill the chancellor before he can try again.”
“No, we came to stop the chancellor and the geneticists from doing something far, far worse.” I proceeded to tell the captain all about the chancellor’s plan and the virus that would render all non-Korean males i
nfertile. “And that’s why we’ve come back now. The only way to guarantee this virus is never released is to remove the chancellor and his administration from power.”
Smithson exhaled heavily and gazed out into the night as he struggled to process the information I just dumped in his lap. “You can prove the existence of this virus?”
I told him how Bhagya, and later other Specialists, found out about it, and how it tied in with the genetically modified children and the Specialists’ pregnancy trials.
“You know, Jones, I figured you asked for me by name because you thought I’d let you into town. But that’s not the reason, is it? You’re hoping my men and I will join your little revolution, even though we have all sworn to protect the town and uphold the government.”
“Captain, I’m sure–”
Smithson held up a hand, silencing me. “Let me finish. As you know, I used to be a one-eyed supporter of the chancellor and a firm believer in the Founders’ ways and vision for a better post-apocalyptic society. Then I met you and your wife and you turned all my beliefs upside down. I realised the so-called mutants like you did not pose a threat to town security as the chancellor claimed. That your kind were actually the only ones who could save the town from its enemies. Seeing how you treated your wife as an equal, and watching her fight alongside you that night the Skel attacked Newhome, showed me the error in the Founders’ teachings that women belonged in the home. If I had even a dozen men as capable as Nanako protecting the town, I’d sleep a lot better at night. What I’m trying to say is that the eyes of my men and I have been opened. We are painfully aware of the injustice and discrimination that are rife under the chancellor’s rule. We are deeply troubled by the forced abortion of handicapped and disabled children, the executions carried out for minor infringements, the imprisonment of anyone who speaks out against the chancellor, and the ridiculous restriction of personal freedoms. And after hearing what you have told me today, about the biotoxin, the Korean children, and the virus, I am even more disturbed.”
“So will Delta Company join us, sir?”
“On two conditions, Jones, and these are not negotiable. One: if your movement is well organised and has the strength to seriously challenge the chancellor, you can call on us if you need help. Otherwise, forget it. My men are not expendable, and I will not risk them leading an uprising that does not have sufficient support and is doomed to fail before it starts. Two: you will not tell anyone, not even your own people, that Delta Company is willing to join you – even the walls have ears here.”
I held out my hand. “I accept your terms, Captain.”
Smithson took my hand in a crushing grip, but his expression could have been chiselled out of stone. “Now show me who you’ve brought with you and what’s in that trailer.”
“Of course – this way, sir.”
I led the captain to the back of the Bushmaster and introduced him to my unit. Having commanded my foraging team previously, he already knew everyone, and greeted them by name. That done, we unhooked the tarp covering the trailer and he inspected the food, supplies and weapons we brought with us.
Once he was satisfied we weren’t lying and didn’t bring any bombs with us, I handed him one of the sat-Smartphones. I set it on silent and gave him a quick but thorough lesson on how to use it
“Please keep this with you at all times, Captain. It will vibrate silently when I send you a text message. I will never ring you unless it’s a dire emergency.”
He placed the phone in one of his many pockets and signalled for his men to open the gates. “You know where the Graveyard is, Jones?”
“The Custodian Vehicles Maintenance and Repairs Workshop? Yes.”
“Dump your vehicle in there beside the disabled Bushmasters and Abrams tanks – no one goes in there anymore. Hide the trailer somewhere else, though, because it’s obvious it’s not from here.” He handed me a universal key to get into the repairs workshop.
“Will do, sir. Before I leave, can I have Mal Li’s address? He’s the science teacher at the Newhome Proper Secondary College.”
“I know who he is. I’ll get his details and text them to you in a minute.”
I saluted the captain and made to return to the Bushmaster.
“You currently serving in the Hamamachi Militia, Jones?” Smithson called after me.
“Yes, sir. Commander of the Special Forces Unit.” In other words, a full-time soldier unlike most of the Militia, who only served one month a year.
“What’s your rank?”
“Captain.” I hesitated before I answered, well aware I hadn’t been in the Militia for anywhere near as long he’d been a Custodian.
“Figured as much. How about you dispense with this ‘sir’ nonsense, then?”
“Okay. Smithson, I’ll be in touch.” I climbed into the Bushmaster, squeezed my way past the others to get to the driver’s compartment, and told Shorty to take us into the town.
* * *
An hour later, we were gathered at the back of an apartment block and gazing up at the fourth floor. It was only just visible in the poor light given off by the streetlamps.
We had hidden the trailer in the garage of a single-story house abandoned decades ago. It was the same house my friends and I used as a hiding place when the Custodians were trying to arrest us on suspicion of being Japanese spies. We dropped off the Bushmaster after that, parking it between another Bushmaster and a M1 Abrams tank that were abandoned so long ago they were rusting away.
That done, David, Shorty, Leigh, and I swapped our Militia or Custodian uniforms for our civilian clothes from Hamamachi. Nanako and Madison couldn’t do that, since the women here had to wear ankle-length, long sleeved dresses. After that, we crept like ghosts through darkened streets, going to ground or backtracking to avoid Custodian night patrols, until we found the apartment block Smithson texted me the address of.
“You located Mal’s apartment, Shorty?” I asked, looking up at the back of the austere, grey concrete apartments towering ten levels above us. I wished Madison and I could echolocate to help us see in the dark, but that would set off the ultrasonic detectors and Custodians would be here in minutes. I wished we could go to Mal’s place by the front door, but that was too risky.
“That’s an affirmative, boss.”
“Up you go, then. We’ll follow you.” We were all experienced at scaling walls thanks to our foraging days, but Shorty was a natural.
Without further ado, the little guy grabbed hold of a downpipe and clambered up the back of the apartment block like a monkey scaling a palm tree.
I sent the others up after him, with Nanako and Madison going first so they could use the same hand and footholds they observed Shorty use. They were competent climbers, but hadn’t climbed Newhome apartment blocks before.
After checking there were no Custodian patrols in the vicinity, I went last. After a few tense, dangling-by-my-fingertips minutes, I joined the others on Mal Li’s rear balcony. I felt a stab of anxiety when I realised one member of my team was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Madison?” I whispered.
David, who was putting away his lock-picks, pointed at the slightly open balcony door. I had taken one step towards it when it opened and Madison stepped out to join us.
“Mr. Li’s a progressive alright,” she said. “Instead of separate male and female bedrooms, he’s sleeping with his wife. Their boys are in the other bedroom.”
“Right, time to wake him up. The rest of you wait here until we call you,” I said.
“Who gets to wake him, you or me?” Madison asked as we slipped soundlessly through the open door and crept into the bedroom.
“I’ll do it. He should recognise me from my school days. Can you watch over his wife in case she wakes up? She’ll get the shock of her life if she sees my ugly mug bending over her husband.”
A bedside lamp illuminated the room in a pale yellow glow. We navigated around a large study desk strewn with piles of textbooks and students
’ workbooks and the big bookshelf beside it crammed with books on every conceivable aspect of science. Well, the aspects approved by the authorities.
The double bed was beside the bookshelf, set against the wall. Mal Li was on this side of the bed, sleeping facing his wife. She was of Chinese origin, like him. Madison walked to the far side of the bed and stood over the prone woman, ready to pounce should she wake and try to scream.
I pulled Mal onto his back and clamped a hand over his mouth. His eyes flickered open in horror, but to his credit, he didn’t struggle or attempt to cry out.
“Hi, Mr. Li. I’ll let go if you promise not to shout. I’m Ethan Jones – we just want to talk to you.”
His eyes flickered to Madison, then back to me. He nodded, so I let go and stepped back.
“Madison Taylor, I presume?” he said, propping himself on his elbows. “Chelsea Thomas said you two were returning to Newhome in the near future. Just didn’t expect you to drop in on me in the middle of the night.”
“I didn’t tell Chelsea our plans in case they got arrested when they returned,” I said.
“Wise.” He sat up all the way.
“Sorry about the midnight thing, but it’s safer to move around at night. We’d be instantly recognised if the Custodians catch sight of us during the day.”
“No worries, just glad to meet you.”
“I take it General Cho bought the girls’ story that their mission was a success?” Madison asked.
“It appears so, and why wouldn’t he? As far as he’s concerned, the Specialists are brainwashed automatons that do everything he tells them to. Hope I can see his face when he finds out how wrong he is.”
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