Bruce Balfour, page 8
Helix barked at a wild turkey watching them from beside a bush on the hillside to their left. The turkey raised its head, made a brief pert sound, and trotted up the hill. Helix stopped barking as soon as the turkey turned away, satisfied with its response.
Magnus glanced up at the sky. “We’re doing okay so far. Rocco and Maggie don’t think we’re being followed.”
“Who?” Tom looked up and saw the two vultures still circling.
“You’ll meet Rocco later. Maggie’s pretty shy, so she’ll keep her distance.”
“You’re talking about those vultures. Are they your pets or something?”
Magnus snorted. “You catch on fast, don’t you? They’re the same two birds who were watching you at the cemetery, and they’ve been following us ever since. I wouldn’t call them pets, though. They’re more like friends, really. We help each other out.”
Tom decided it would be safer to change the subject. If the old man wanted to hang out with large birds, that was his business. “Where are we going? I wasn’t planning on a long hike today, seeing as how I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“We’re off to visit my little mountain retreat. It’s one of the places I go when I want to get away, hide from the siliboys, plot revenge, that sort of thing. It’s not far.”
“And then what? We go back to your tunnel under the bay?”
Magnus stopped walking and pushed his hood back so he could glower at Tom. “We don’t necessarily go anywhere, boy. I’m a hermit, and I like it that way. We’ll spend a little time up here in the hills, wait to see if anything tries to follow us, then I’ll decide what to do with you.”
“Then why did you bother meeting me at the cemetery? I thought you had a plan.”
“Misplaced sense of responsibility, I guess.” He started walking again. “I thought you might need someone right now.”
“Not if you’re just going to abandon me up here,” Tom said without moving. Magnus turned and threw his arms in the air. “You want me to take you back to Marinwood? I’m sure the townspeople would enjoy a chat with you, at least until Hermes arrives. He probably has orders to kill you on sight, but you never know, the siliboys might want to rehabilitate you and make you a productive member of the community. Is that what you want?”
Tom wasn’t sure what he wanted. None of his options looked very good. “All right. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. Not like I have a choice.”
“You sound bitter, and it doesn’t suit someone your age. Get a grip and put a sock in it. Things could be worse.”
Tom snorted. “How?”
“I might have started training you already. Don’t think it’s going to be a party.”
“Training me for what?”
Magnus turned and gestured for Tom to follow. “You’ll see.”
PRESIDENTBuck Breckenridge stood in the White House rose garden, his bright white teeth glittering in the sunlight as he smiled at the small crowd of remotely piloted hovercams. The tiny cameras drifted silently a few feet away from his head, transmitting the image of the “simple country boy in a white suit” to interested viewers around the world. He had spent years clawing and scrambling his way to the top of the political pile, and he now looked happily down from the pinnacle of his career, enjoying the power of his position for a few years before he retired to a well-earned rest on the private island he was building in the Virgin Islands. At least, he was enjoying the power that the Dominion AIs allowed him to have, which mainly consisted of supporting their policies and acting as their human figurehead for controlling the unwashed masses.
Buck glanced at the shadowy figure of Daedalus, the nanoborg representative of Alioth, standing patiently in his black robes out of camera view. His creepy white eyes never left Buck’s face. Buck knew from experience that if he said the wrong thing in front of the cameras, Daedalus would trigger the shock field to get him back in line. With that kind of motivation, it hadn’t taken long for Buck to learn what to say and when to say it. Daedalus wrote Buck’s speeches, as he had for the last seven occupants of the White House’s Oval Office, and they rehearsed before every public appearance while Daedalus made certain that the correct words were emphasized and the right facial expressions were used. From what Buck knew of presidential history, the process wasn’t all that different from the way presidents had been handled ever since speeches were first televised, but he doubted that JFK or Reagan or Rodriguez had ever received high-voltage shocks when they emphasized the wrong words from their speeches. In any case, that was the price of being the leader of the “free” world these days. And the job certainly wasn’t as stressful as it might have been before the Dominion. Alioth made all the real decisions, told Buck which government agency to dismantle each week, which people to hire and fire, which news to overlook, and which issues to promote. After four years, maybe eight, he’d be wealthy beyond his dreams with lifetime support from the appreciative entities of the Dominion. Life could be worse for a backwater rube who had never graduated from high school.
Daedalus held up a finger, letting him know he had one minute left in which to finish notifying the public of his intention to shut down the Department of Defense along with the last of the domestic military bases, which had only been operating with skeleton crews for the last twenty years. Federal police forces occupied many former military installations across the country, ever ready to reinforce the Dominion’s less popular directives in the major cities, but they hadn’t been used much in the last few years, either. When they thought about it at all, the public understood that the Dominion held their best interests at their digital hearts, so they rarely offered any resistance as long as the never-ending supplies of pizza and beer continued to arrive at their homes. As for the primitive communities in the western forbidden zones, the Dominion didn’t need large organized police forces to maintain security; they just removed the rare troublemakers in the villages and “reeducated” them—or destroyed them when necessary. In any case, they weren’t his problem. He had very little idea of what actually went on in the western zones, and none of them voted anyway. He had enough problems without trying to open that can of worms. Finishing his speech, Buck beamed at the cameras, then Daedalus escorted him back to the Oval Office. Daedalus sat on the edge of the massive oak desk and peered into the eyes of the president standing before him. That always made Buck nervous, since it appeared that the nanoborg’s white eyes could see straight into his thoughts, and Buck knew that if Daedalus didn’t like what he saw there, he’d shock the hell out of him. Buck had been thinking about what kind of lunch he would order from the White House kitchen, and he didn’t know if Daedalus would like that or not, so he tried not to think about anything, and it seemed to work because the shock never came. Or Daedalus really couldn’t read his mind.
“Alioth has a message for you,” Daedalus said in his whispery monotone voice. The sound of it still made Buck’s skin crawl.
“I’m all ears,” Buck said, using one of the many homey phrases that had helped him win the last election. He was a man of the people, not some overeducated egghead who’d never gotten drunk and stood up for himself in a bar fight.
Daedalus gave him a curious look. “We have a situation developing in the western protectorate that may require the use of nanobombs over a large area. This information would not concern you under normal circumstances. However, some of our predictions indicate that a potential massive outbreak may occur along the western barrier, so large-scale police measures may be required to subdue the invaders without needless damage to food production, power, and manufacturing facilities east of the barrier wall. We will initiate a propaganda campaign in the borderlands to stir up fear regarding the ‘mutants’ who live on the other side of the barrier. This will develop sympathy for our cause among the borderlands city dwellers in the event that police forces have to institute martial law and extreme suppression measures. The locals must support our actions so they don’t get hurt. Are you with me so far?”
Buck was thinking about mouthwatering pastrami sandwiches when he realized that Daedalus had asked him a question. “Yes,” he said, hoping that was the right answer. His muscles tensed in preparation for a shock.
“Good,” Daedalus said, leaning forward within a few inches of Buck’s face. The nanoborg’s breath smelled as if something had crawled into his mouth and died, but at least he wasn’t going to shock him.
“You will be a part of this propaganda campaign. We will take care of the troop movement logistics, drawing most of the paramilitary police forces from Denver on the underground freight train unless we determine the need for additional support.”
“Okay,” Buck said, figuring he ought to say something. The sooner this interview was over, the sooner he could eat.
“In addition to press briefings, you may be required to make a personal appearance along the border zone.”
“What?” That got Buck’s attention. Images of tasty sandwiches abruptly disappeared from his mind. “I can’t go out there. I’ve heard there are mutants all over the place.”
With a heavy sigh, Daedalus closed his eyes for a moment. “You will be protected from any contact with the mutants. We will endeavor to create hysteria in connection with the possible mutant invasion, then we’ll bring you in at the right time to calm the local population when the emergency is over. The behavioral testing city of Las Vegas will be our base of operations. You’ll be completely safe.”
“Las Vegas, eh? Now you’re talking. Strong president flies into the face of danger and calms the people. I like the sound of that. It has reelection written all over it.”
“That may be true,” Daedalus said without blinking.
“Then count me in, buckaroo,” Buck said, happily slapping Daedalus on the shoulder before he remembered whom he was facing. He winced. His hand hurt like hell from the impact, but he didn’t want to reveal too much weakness in front of the nanoborg. “I’ll show you how to have a good time. We can gamble at the casinos and pick up some showgirls for later.”
Catching Buck off guard, Daedalus shocked him.
“YOUcall this your house in the hills?” Tom asked, his eyes wide as he looked up into the massive branches of a redwood tree. They were standing in the deep shade below a thick canopy of old-growth redwoods and California bay trees.
“It’s a tree house,” Magnus said, his eyes narrowed at Tom. “You have a problem with that?”
Tom couldn’t make out many details, as the tree house was too high up, and there were a lot of branches blocking his view, but the structure seemed large. “Well, it’s not what I expected. I was thinking of something more comfortable.”
“Let’s review your situation, shall we? You’re running for your life from superintelligent entities, a killing machine named Hermes, and a bunch of superstitious townspeople. Your family just met an unfortunate end at the business end of a weapon with unbelievable destructive power, and you just missed being killed there yourself. Without my help, you’d just wander around in the hills sleeping under logs and piles of leaves until one or more of your enemies came along to pick you off. Are you seriously complaining because I’ve found you a safe place to sleep for the night?”
Tom looked down at his boots and shrugged. “Well, if you put it that way—”
“That’s what I thought,” Magnus said, grabbing the long rope that hung down from one of the lower redwood branches about thirty feet up. Tom was amazed to see the old man haul himself up the rope, hand over hand, apparently without effort as his legs dangled free. When he reached the top, Magnus sat down on the branch in a lotus position, not even winded, and looked down at Tom. “Your choice, boy. Sleep down there tonight or climb the rope.”
Tom squinted at the long rope as one of the vultures descended through the tree canopy and lightly touched down on the branch beside Magnus.
“Hope you’re not afraid of heights,” Magnus yelled. “If you fall, Rocco will clean up the mess.” Rocco tipped his bald head to get a better look at Tom.
“That’s a comforting thought,” Tom said, testing the rope.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He gripped the rope and pulled himself up, looping his ankles around it to keep from sliding backward. From the way his muscles were straining, he knew he didn’t have a chance of repeating Magnus’s climbing performance. With a grunt, he started to climb, figuring Magnus would help haul him up if he had any trouble.
“I’m going to get something to eat,” Magnus said as he stood up. He glanced down at Tom and climbed up to the next branch. At a wide space between the branches, Magnus hopped lightly across the gap into the tree house entrance, where Tom could no longer see him. As Tom struggled up the rope, Magnus poked his head out through the doorway again and grinned at him. “I hope you like nuts and berries. Haven’t had a chance to stock the pantry lately.”
Tom grunted in reply, about a third of the way up the rope now, and Magnus’s head disappeared again. He was on his own. If he fell, the vulture would pick apart his dead body while Magnus sat around inside the tree house eating nuts. His life was not going well, and he wanted to start it over again. Perhaps he’d get it right the second time around.
The wind howled through the big trees, causing the branches to creak as they swayed. The stand of redwoods was perched atop a long slope that faced west, and Tom caught glimpses of blue ocean in small gaps between the trees. The air smelled of musty wood, dust from the forest floor, and the sweaty odor from his own clothes. His head was spinning, and he wished once again that he’d been able to get some sleep during the night. His arm, shoulder, and inner thigh muscles screamed with pain, and he was starting to wonder if he should just end it all now when he reached the top of the rope. Clambering onto the branch was tricky, but he managed it with a swinging motion that allowed him to loop a leg over the top so he could hook his heel into the bark. A final lurch left him flat on the branch, gasping for air, his shaky arms dangling over the edge.
“Quit fooling around,” Magnus said. “I’m an old man; I could go at any minute. Then where would you be?”
Happier, Tom thought. “I’ll be right there. I just need to catch my breath.”
“Catch it up here. We have things to do.”
Glancing down at the long drop to the forest floor, then at the vulture eyeing him with hope, Tom edged over to the trunk of the redwood and used it to steady himself as he hauled his body upright. He pulled himself up to the next branch as Magnus had done earlier, then jumped the gap into the tree house. Magnus sat with his legs folded into the lotus position, perched on a branch that entered the east wall of the structure and passed out through the south wall, forming a broad bench. The room they were in felt large and airy, with big windows that allowed plenty of light to enter. Built in an organic style that rested gently on the tree, the walls seemed to grow naturally from the branches and trunk of the redwood. After a moment, Tom’s eyes adjusted to the shadows, and he saw a wide variety of bleached animal skulls hanging on the walls, hung in no particular order, their empty eye sockets watching him from the past. One of the windows darkened suddenly, then Rocco swooped in and perched on the ledge.
“Good boy, Rocco. Stay,” Magnus said, giving Rocco a signal with his open hand. Tom slapped his palm into his forehead.
“You do that often?” Magnus asked. “Seems like it would hurt.”
“I left Helix down below. I should go get him.” Now that he mentioned it, he could hear Helix softly whimpering in the distance.
Magnus pulled a dead mouse out of a small can behind the bench and tossed it to Rocco, who caught it in midair and gulped it down. Then he nodded at Tom. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Tom sighed and went out the front door, almost falling because he’d forgotten he was high up in a tree. Still dizzy from fatigue, he clambered back down the rope, slipping enough to get friction burns on his hands, and picked up Helix, who was faithfully waiting at the bottom of the tree, watching and wagging his tail. He tied the rope around Helix’s torso, then looked up to see if Magnus might be waiting on the branch to help him. He wasn’t. He climbed the rope again, almost giving up when he was twenty feet off the ground. Helix whimpered, and Tom knew there was a chance he might land on the little dog if he gave up and let go, so he kept going. Once he was on top of the branch again, he hauled on the rope and pulled Helix up to join him. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking how nice it would be to go to sleep right there on the rough bark of the tree branch, and Helix licked him on the face. The dog wasn’t tied to anything, and that didn’t seem safe, so Tom picked him up and made his way back into the tree house, where Magnus seemed to be taking a nap where he sat on the bench.
Tom cleared his throat. Magnus opened his eyes. “Do you have any water for my dog?”
Magnus smiled and pulled a large jug out from behind the bench, offering it to Tom. “Oh, we’ve got plenty of water.”
Tom opened the jug and poured some of the water into his hand. Helix greedily lapped it up, prompting Tom to give him more. When the dog was done, Tom drank his fill.
“Do you like apples?” Magnus asked.
“I certainly do,” Tom said. His mouth began to water as he realized he hadn’t eaten since the previous day.
“Me, too,” Magnus said with a shrug. “Too bad we don’t have any. You know, there are other parts of this country where they have grocery stores. You can walk in and get whatever kind of food you want.”
Tom tried to pull his confused mind back from the thought of apples. He could almost smell them. “Like our village marketplace?”
“Somewhat. A grocery store is larger. And it’s indoors. Nuts?” Magnus asked, passing him a bowlful of pistachios.
Tom plunged his hand into the bowl and jammed the nuts into his mouth. “Mmph. Where did you see a store like that?”
Magnus looked toward Rocco, but his gaze went farther, out the window and into the past. “They had them in the old days. In the cities. Probably still do on the other side of the barrier.”
