Legacy Of Ashes

by Ric Beard

  “So, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, then? Are you that naive?”

  “Naive? Jesus, Lexi. Should I turn the technology away?”

  “Considering the company you’ve had to keep to acquire it? Maybe!”

  Blake lowered his tone, and Lexi saw his shoulders drop.

  “Anyway, the machine is going to be here today.”

  “And what’s Morgan’s piece?”

  “If the weapon turns out to be all Alexandra says it is, he gets 20% of the JenCorp contracts with the city.”

  “That’s steep!”

  “That or he turned it over to a competitor.”

  “Shady bastard.”

  “Shady or not, the technology could turn the tide for the EF, and this company could get a foothold in war vehicles.”

  She lowered her head a nodded. “That actually is big for you.”

  “What’s that look on your face?” Blake asked. “Spit it out.”

  “I’m wondering why you went to all the trouble to cover your tracks,” Lexi said. “I know we weren’t in a relationship or anything at the time, but I was still your chief of security. You really should’ve told me.”

  “When he came to my office, I wasn’t totally in the know. I wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted. But he told me he wanted to strike out on his own, and he thought he had a mutually beneficial business proposition. But as you know all too well, our mayor is just the sort to set me up, make Dad look bad. Who knows? I couldn’t risk knowledge of the meeting getting out until I knew.”

  “And once you did know, you still wanted to keep it quiet.”

  “Exactly. If this thing is as advanced as Morgan says it is, I don’t want anyone knowing about it until the contracts are secured. People in this city would pay a lot of money for knowledge of a machine like that.”

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  A Room?

  Even the elevator was nicer than anything he’d seen in Oklahoma City. A glass video screen looped a hi-res presentation describing JenCorp’s role in protecting the people of Triangle City with its technological contributions to the Expeditionary Forces. The presentation was also interactive, complete with a touchscreen. It was some pretty highbrow tech for an elevator. When he tried to imagine what technology would look like if the old world had survived, Triangle City was it. He couldn’t guess how they’d pulled it off. Jim “By-God” Johnson, or not.

  The guards standing on either side of him were large men, wearing leather combat uniforms and wrap-around glasses that looked like something out of a bad science fiction movie.

  “So, you’re from Oklahoma City, huh?” the chiseled guard to his left asked. He was wearing a tailored suit, his hair was cut tight enough to see his deep brown scalp, and Sean could just make out two wires inside his transparent earpiece.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s that like?”

  “Let me put it this way,” Sean said, looking up at the man. “Having seen what I’ve seen on your roads between the gate and this place, I find it appropriate that residents call it ‘OK City.’ I mean, what Asimov novel did this place crawl out of?”

  “Not as nice, huh?”

  “Just different. The walls are higher there. OK City is more militaristic and industrial than sleek. Shit, who am I kidding?” He turned a sideways smile on the guard. “It’s fucking filthy.”

  But he knew the comparison was a major understatement. This city was alive, vibrant. From the time he’d put The Beast in stealth mode and driven through the west gate to the time he’d arrived at JenCorp, it really was like being in a movie. The colorful lights lining the streets. The shopping strips and the restaurants. He swore the sidewalks outside shimmered like solar panels. There was almost no vehicular traffic during the nine-mile journey. The entire citizenry seemed to wear high-tech glasses and to walk everywhere—even in the freezing cold. They, too, were vibrant. They looked much healthier than the overweight, burned out, factory-laboring people of Oklahoma City.

  When he’d dropped Reagan at the hidden entrance to the city Lucian had mapped out for him, he had marveled at the wall fashioned of high, thick concrete, perhaps with rebar beneath. Yellow stains ran halfway down the wall as if people pissed off the top of the thing. That had reminded him of OK City. Nothing since had.

  After he’d helped Reagan push through debris to find the panel covering the grate to the old-world aqueduct leading into the city, he’d hugged her hard, breathing deeply of her feminine scent to block the offensive stench that surrounded them. The stench had vanished at the gate.

  The cruise into the city revealed an interior wall fashioned of metal bars that crisscrossed and glowed blue. Small wind turbines turned atop the outer portion along the inside edge, so that they weren’t visible from outside. There were no smoke stacks. There was no smell of burning rubber. No hint of sewage.

  His mind jumped to the present as the elevator doors opened, and he was ushered into a waiting area. A tall woman with fiery red hair slipped past them and onto the elevator without looking up. Sean turned his head but not in time to see her face.

  Her ass was pretty nice though.

  Another woman with angled features and long purple hair so smooth it looked pressed sat behind a glass desk. She pushed a button, and two glass doors to her left swung apart from each other. One of the escorts motioned at the doorway.

  Inside, a dark-haired man with a slightly split chin greeted Sean with his hand extended.

  “Blake Jensen. CEO of JenCorp.”

  “Sean Stone.” He shook the hand.

  Blake looked at him curiously.

  “Have we met before, Sean?” he asked.

  “Not unless you’ve been out West.”

  Or are as old as dirt.

  “I never have. I’m a Triangle City native, proud to say.”

  “I could see why you’d be proud. It’s quite the city.”

  “Please, have a seat.”

  They faced each other from across the large oak desk.

  “You’ve had a hell of a journey. I can’t even imagine. I’m sure you want to rest.”

  “Actually, the tank sleeps very well. Very roomy. Smooth.”

  If not a bit claustrophobic after a thousand miles.

  “The cockpit seating converts to a bed, complete with a spine-supporting air mattress.”

  He chose not to mention that it’d been hard saying goodbye to Sara

  “Not what you’d expect from a weapon of war, is it? I can’t wait to see it, myself.”

  Sean bet Jensen’s smile wooed a lot of women and business associates, but the effect was lost on him. He had one of his own. The more he smiled, the less Sean trusted him. He wondered if Jensen practiced in the mirror. He reminded him of Carson.

  “If it’s designed for long term engagements,” Sean said, “why not make it comfortable?”

  “I guess you’re right,” Blake said, again with his winning smile. “Do you have a place to stay in the city?”

  “Not yet,” Sean said. “But I’m sure I will be able to find a room. After you pay me.”

  “A room?” Blake asked.

  Sean rolled his eyes and wanted to slap himself. Why would they have hotels in a city to which no one travels? You could take the boy out of the old world, but you’ll never take the old world out of the—

  “I know of a place,” Blake said. “My father has an apartment across town. Plenty of room. He lives on an estate on the northeast side of town. Perhaps you can stay there a while. I understand you’re not planning on going back to —what was the old-world name? Oklahoma?”

  “Yup. That’s what they called it.”

  Blake nodded.

  “It would be a difficult proposition. It’s not like I can catch a train.”

  “Not yet, anyway,” Blake said, winning smile and all. “Well—” he reached onto his desk, picked up a small plastic cylinder, and walked around the desk. “Are you chipped?”

  “I’m not,” Sean said, shrugging.r />
  “That’s fine,” Blake said. “If you don’t mind a little sting, I think you’ll find it worth it.”

  “Is there any kind of tracker in it?” Sean asked, a wave of suspicion washing over him.

  Blake shook his head. “You remind me of a woman who just left.” He shrugged one shoulder. “The city is full of cameras with identification software. Our Tabs have trackers, but it’s our choice whether to turn them on or not. Believe me, if someone in the city with the right credentials wants to know where you are, a tracker in a wrist chip is the least of your worries.”

  A memory flashed into Sean’s mind of the white robots he saw hovering along the city streets and the matching dome cameras atop the poles on each corner and nodded.

  Sounds logical.

  Blake held the cylinder to Sean’s wrist, raising an eyebrow to request consent. Sean nodded.

  There was a pop and Sean felt a very brief sting. “You can swipe your wrist to purchase goods from any merchant in Triangle City, without revealing your total balance. Of course, you can also stop at one of the banks in town, allow them to load out some of the credits and receive a percentage of the interest.”

  Just like the good ol’ days.

  Blake dropped the cylinder unceremoniously onto his desk and picked up his handheld. He tapped a few motions that were apparently familiar and held it to Sean’s wrist.

  “Swipe across the screen,” Blake said.

  Sean did so and the device beeped. Blake held it up so Sean could see the number.

  300,000.

  His heart thumped. He’d done it! Riding in that fucking tank for over a thousand miles through badlander hell to this freaking paradise had just made Sean Stone a rich son of a bitch.

  Hm.

  “Is it possible to steal the credits? Like being hacked?”

  “Oh, God no,” Blake said. “They couldn’t even rip your arm off and use it. It’s resistant to electricity, gamma waves, and pulse technology, as well. The credits are on a small chip that attaches itself to the bone. While you could break the bone, the chip is microscopic and not easily destroyed. But if your body temp decreased significantly they could go wonky. Plan on freezing? No? I recommend the bank option, unless you’re planning on retiring to one of the townships along the east coast.”

  “Pass,” Sean said.

  “I don’t blame you, there.” Blake smiled again and offered his hand. They shook.

  “My assistant can give you directions to my father’s apartment,” he said. “It’s near City Hall. Be sure to take the tour; it tells all about our city’s history, including archives about Research Triangle Park.”

  Sean didn’t think he needed to read those archives. Nor would he be going to that apartment.

  “Thanks again,” Sean said. “Now I have a message for you.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes. The Chain is on its way. You’ll want to start charging that truck.”

  Sean walked out into the new city a new man. He brought up the locator map Miles programmed for him so he could find the tunnel entrance to the underground aqueduct and get the hell out of the city before The Chain arrived. It was doubtful Jensen would worry about it when he didn’t show up at his old man’s apartment in town, unless he’d planned on somehow retrieving his money and leaving Sean in a gutter somewhere. He didn’t seem the type, but this was the new world, and the inside of that place looked corporate.

  He turned a corner and looked down at the sidewalk. It was textured to increase his grip. Little black diamonds that looked like glass shimmered in the morning light. These things were solar!

  Wow.

  Sean wondered if the entire city was powered by solar and wind. The oil companies of the old world would never have stood for such a thing. In fact, the—

  As Sean passed a breezeway on his right, he saw a fleeting movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he could turn his head, he felt a shock course through his muscles and glimpsed a black cloth bag as it was pulled over his head. Then he lost consciousness.

  When he woke, his head was screaming. A ringing in his ears reminded him of an initiation beating he’d taken for looking at one of his fellow inmates the wrong way his first week on D-Block. His rotator cuffs strained under his weight, only his toes touched the floor.

  “Ah, he’s awake,” a male voice said.

  Sean saw motion and blinked away his blurred vision.

  “Your vision will return in a moment, but I’m afraid your head will hurt even more as you regain your focus,” the throaty, sandpaper voice declared. “I’m sure it’s not lost on you that you traveled through a hellish landscape just to end up like this. I’m sorry for that.”

  Sean could almost smell the pleasure in that voice.

  “How would you have said it in your day?” the voice continued. “It sucked?”

  My day? Who is this guy? Why do so many people suddenly know things about me?

  As promised, the thumping in his head amplified as blurry shapes morphed into defined edges when his focus strengthened. He closed his eyes, but it didn’t help. Slowly opening them again, he found that his vision was almost normal. His body dangled in a large room, not unlike the warehouse in which he had met with Carson a week earlier. The rustic environment seemed out of place in the modern city he’d witnessed driving to JenCorp.

  Am I even in the city anymore?

  His hands were tied above him with thick rope that ran up through a pulley and down to where it was tied off to a wooden column. His ankles were secured to steel loops bolted to the floor, probably meant to keep him from swinging.

  That’s bad news.

  His captor wore a nondescript brown suit. He was gaunt, pale, and his bloodshot eyes beaded like he’d been hitting Green Packs in OK City before a shift at the helium distillery—or whatever they called the places. A demonic smile appeared between cracked lips and two rows of sharp white teeth.

  He looked like a vampire.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Got a Smoke?

  Reagan pulled the ball cap Jenna gave her down over her eyes as she walked in the shadows of the buildings. She kept her chin low. It was a four-mile hike to City Hall from the basement into which she’d emerged following her trek through the ancient aqueduct leading to the city. But she had to make a stop first.

  She needed support from someone she could trust. Only one person fit the bill. Someone Reagan was just dying to see. No one else in Triangle City could know she was alive if she was going to succeed in her self-imposed mission. She had to move quickly because the column of badlander vehicles was past Statesville by now, and things were about to get fucking hairy.

  The distractions of the trip had done wonders to keep Lucy’s violent death from her mind, but as she closed what felt like the last fleeting distance of an impossibly long journey, images of her sweet baby’s face forced the tears at the worst possible time.

  Reagan climbed three stairs to the door of the townhouse tucked away on the back corner of a block near the business district and was unable to ring the bell. She couldn’t let him see her like this. Forcing long, deep breaths in and out of her lungs, she willed the tears away and gently dabbed at her face with her sleeves to erase them. She coughed once, took a long, final breath and pulled her jacket down taut from the bottom.

  For all she knew, he didn’t even live here anymore. He might have died two years ago, out on the road. He’d been her constant companion out there, her unit partner and lifeline, the one person from whom she was never supposed to separate in the wilds. A light around the edge of the door lit green. She glanced down at the stoop and realized she’d stepped on a trigger that alerted the occupant someone was outside his door. She looked up as the door opened.

  It was him, standing in front of her, a quizzical look on his face. She raised her hat slightly, revealing her eyes. Recognition dawned and he took a clumsy step backwards, reaching out with both hands, as if he might fall on his butt. She grabbed his pullover
and helped to steady him. There was a small yellow stain beneath its neckline.

  “Reagan?”

  “Yes,” she said, she pulled him close and looked him in the eye. “It’s me.”

  “How can you be—”

  “It’s me, Kade.” His bodyweight lightened in her grip as he regained use of the muscles in his legs. Pools formed in the lower lids of his eyes. She pursed her lips and tipped her head in empathy.

  He pulled back and squeezed past her to lean beyond the threshold and looked up and down the street. Then he grabbed the front of her jacket and pulled her toward him.

  “Come inside. Does anyone know you’re here?”

  “No. I was careful.”

  “Does your—”

  “No one knows I am here, Kade.” The door closed behind her as he led her to the kitchen and pulled her into an embrace. She tensed and then allowed herself to relax.

  “What in the hell happened to you?” Kade kissed her ear. “How are you alive?” He kissed the point of her jaw beneath her ear. He kissed her neck. Then, he held her at arms’ length and looked her up and down.

  She shrugged and looked at the floor.

  “That’s a long story, Kade. I’ll give you the short version, but hell is about to rain down and we don’t have much time.”

  “Hell is—”

  “Yes.” She stepped forward and embraced him again. They held each other silently for a long moment.

  “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you’re alive. They wouldn’t let me come after you. They pulled the road crews back after The Chain took you. It was The Chain, right? Then Vaughn rerouted expeditionary crews to the south.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I tried to form up a private group. I tried to get people to go with me, but it would have been desertion. They wouldn’t come. They told me to let you go and that you were probably dead.”

  “They were right. It would’ve been suicide.”

  “I still would have.”

  “I know.” She let go and he released her. She stepped back and looked at him. “It’s so good to see you.”