Terrible Swift Sword
by
David Pascal
Part Two: 'Broken' (chapters 4-6)
(Note: Part Two is long, so I�m posting it on the FFML day by day in
smaller sections. Interested readers who would like to read or download
the whole of Part Two can find it at the SMJ Fanfiction Page at
http://www.geocities.com/~davidpascal/smj and get the whole piece there
� and really ought to, since it�s much more readably formatted.
Technically, none of the characters appearing in the original Saber
Marionette J series appear in TSS, though a few are referred to. Nor
(offhand) do I think there are any spoilers.
Saber Marionette J is owned and copyrighted by AnimeVillage.com * Satoru
Akahori * Hiroshi Negishi * Tsukasa Kotobuki * Kadokawa Shoten * Bandai
Visual * Sotsu Agency * TV Tokyo.)
Comments should be directed to: davidpascal@juno.com.)
4
Forty-nine years earlier, when Ahab Pierce was twelve, he and his
companion and tutor Gel lived under military guard in Brownstone safe
house in Georgetown, where they were interrupted one evening during a
game of Go by a newly arrived young middle-ranking Army officer. He
instructed them to accompany him to the Georgetown Founders Memorial
Hospital. At once.
Ahab was furious. He flatly refused to go. He cursed the officer, the
Government, the Army, the President, and the people of New Texas; and of
course God, for not slaughtering the whole witless assembly.
This particular officer was from the War Department itself and not under
house orders not to touch the boy. In the course of deciding whether to
drag him by his left ear or his right, however, Gel said that she had
never seen a hospital, and would like to. Georgetown was outside New
Washington itself, but visits to the city � indeed, leaving the grounds
at all -- was strictly forbidden. Gel regretted it; unlike Ahab, she was
curious about humans and how they lived. She bowed deeply to her young
opponent across the Go board. Ahab looked at her long black hair falling
down and felt that strange and almost painfully sweet feeling he had
begun to feel more and more often when looking at her. He frowned.
Grudgingly, Ahab allowed the officer to take them.
Grudgingly, the officer did so. It was a hour�s ride by armed military
coach. They arrived at two-story ivy-covered stone structure at nine in
the evening, when Terratoo�s two large moons had not yet risen to produce
their usual sharp late-night clarity. Rather, the trio disembarked from
the chevy-drawn coach during a spectral interim span of darkness, murky
with fog that evening, and sinister.
Ahab and Gel entered the neo-Victorian splendor of the entrance hall.
Men in white coats and marionettes in white dresses with a red cross on
them criss-crossed the hall. Ahab and Gel and armed officer walked up
the sweeping arm of the left staircase and down the second floor�s left
wing corridor. Its walls were covered with rich red velour and ornate
candlestick holders and historical portraits of cowboy scenes from Earth.
Scenes of President Joy at various stages of his glorious career
punctuated the collection. At the last door at the end of the corridor
the officer stopped. He knocked. An armed guard appeared at the door,
and gave Ahab, and particularly Gel, a distrustful look. He stated that
he would have to search Gel and possibly disassemble her before letting
her enter. Ahab exploded with outrage, cursing the guard with as much
vicious personal abuse as he could muster, which was a great deal. The
guard grit his teeth till he could take no more and shouted back, and the
officer shouted at them both, and finally a croaking voice inside the
room got the guard�s attention. The guard turned, shut the door, and
after a few moments opened it again and stepped out into the corridor.
�Go on in, brat,� he said, with a jerk of his chin. �The andy too.�
Ahab walked in, arm in Gel�s, shoving the guard aside. He slammed the
door behind him.
It was a large elegant bedroom full of rich dark oak trim. A splendid
oak bed stood against the wall, and on the bed lay a dying man. He face
was wasted and shaved entirely hairless, his eighty-pound body emaciated
and intense, like a cross between a scarecrow and an actual crow. Gel
walked up to him in her sailor fuku, the traditional sailor suit Ahab had
demanded and gotten for her, and bowed. Ahab bowed to no one. He
looked down at the man. It was Lightner, of course. Ahab had only seen
him that one time, but he remembered the crazed ravaged face, beard or
not. Lightner, who had brought him Gel.
�Well? Ain�t got nothing to say, boy?� whispered the ravaged old man.
�Did you order us brought here?�
�I did.�
�You had no right! I was pursuing one of the most fascinating, complex
strategic ploys, a variation on Torajiro Kuwahara�s attack endgame attack
against Shuwa in the 1872 game at -- !�
Lightner laughed. It hurt to laugh, but it was worth it. �Bravo.
You�re a completely conceited little ass, Ahab, my boy, but that�s a real
improvement over whining in the corner the way you did the last time we
met. Bravo. Yes, complex strategic variations is precisely what you
would be focusing upon. Gel here introduced you to Go, I take it? Does
she play well?�
Ahab wanted to complain further � but he never missed a chance to praise
Gel. �She�s flawless.�
�She beats you?�
�We generally play to a draw.�
Lightner nodded. He looked up at the wallpapered ceiling. Images of the
old American Eagle holding arrows of fire in its talons repeated itself
over and over. �I�m going to die tonight,� said Lightner, looking at the
eagles. �That�s what these damned doctors say. I wanted to see you
before that happens. I wanted to explain. To apologize.�
Pierce gave him a distrustful look. �Apologize for what?�
�Everything that�s happened to you. Everything that�s going to happen.�
�Do you think you could manage to be a bit more articulate?� said Ahab.
Lightner laughed. �What a little monster you are, Ahab. I don�t think
there�s a twelve-year old in New Texas who�d sass a dying man quite that
way.� He laughed again. It made him cough, which pained him visibly.
�Maybe it was a mistake not to have someone give you a paddling every now
and then.� He turned his head to look at the boy, with such � affection.
�Ahab, Ahab. My little Frankenstein.�
�Who�s that?�
�You never saw a monster movie?�
�Why would anyone waste his time on such infantile nonsense?�
�Indeed. You don�t care for movie-going, then, I take it. What do you
like doing, Ahab? Do you like doing anything? You have any grand
ambitions? Any personal plans?�
�Yes,� said Ahab.
�Do share them. I won�t tell anyone. I won�t be able to, shortly.�
�I plan on escaping. Then I plan on burning down every schoolhouse in
New Texas. If not the world.�
�Is that a fact?�
�It�s a promise.�
Lightner chuckled softly. �Well � that�s an improvement too. Something
to live for. You didn�t even want to live the last time we met. You
like living now? Apart from -- .�
Ahab looked over at Gel with a mixture of expressions rare for anyone,
much less someone still almost a child � a sophisticated compassion,
fascination, admiration, trust � a high, adult assessment, mixed with the
embarrassed and obvious, clumsily hidden desire of a young boy.
�Apart from Gel, though,� said Lightner, �you don�t much like the way you
live.�
Ahab snorted. �Who could like living like this? Nothing but school all
day every day and stupid books and stupid engineering problems and math
tests and science tests and IQ tests day and night!�
�You don�t like books?�
�I love them. When they�re the books I want to read. When they�re not
shoved down my throat all the time, and I have to take a hundred tests on
each one. Damned teachers -- they treat me like I�m some kind of
performing dog. Tests and numbers! I�m sick of school.�
�You�d like to play with the other boys, then?�
Ahab was silent. �No,� he said. �They put me in group classes once in a
while. The boys they bring around, they�re all so � stupid. I can�t
understand them. They�re slow � monosyllabic. All they do is shout and
tell dirty jokes or pretend that they�re shooting guns and play brainless
games. Baseball. Why would anyone want to hit a ball with a stick and
run around a square?�
�How about adults?�
Ahab shrugged. �They�re scared of me now that they can�t beat me up.
They�re not my friends. They�re stupid too. They can�t -- think. You
have to yell at them to get them to do anything. �
�You don�t have any friends?�
Ahab looked at Gel. He took her hand, like an old Earth photo of a boy
with his mother. �I have the best friend in the world.�
�Any people friends?�
Ahab shrugged.
�You never will, Ahab,� said Lightner, almost desperately. �You never
will have a friend. That�s why I called for you. To explain � to
explain why. So maybe � maybe your life�ll be easier to bear.� He
coughed -- a bad one that spit out a clean small drop of blood on his
pale greying lips. He turned his pale shaved head and peered at the boy.
�My Ahab... Ahab, I spent my whole life fighting for you. My whole
professional life.�
Ahab said nothing. People. People were slow. Slow to get to the point,
slow to see it. You just had to put up with them and let them ramble.
Lightner saw it in his face. �You think I�m slow, don�t you? You think
everyone is.�
�Obviously. Aren�t they?�
�No, Ahab. They�re the norm. The average. It�s you that�s different.�
Lightner�s wasted face shown with a crazy grin. �You�re special.�
�Special how?�
�You know how this planet operates, don�t you, Ahab? How this country is
run? There aren�t any women. So there aren�t any children by women.
There�re only clones. Clones of President Franklin Joy, our �illustrious
founder�. There�s men, bio-engineers, who twist the DNA of Joy�s
original cells so that the people come out different. Different eyes and
hair and size and aptitudes. But there�s one way in which they�re not
different. One way in which they�re the same. Know what that is?�
�They�re all stupid.�
Lightner laughed.
�That�s right! That�s right, Ahab. They�re all stupid! Compared to
you. You see, our glorious leader � all the glorious leaders of all the
Six Nations � they all have some unpublicized limitations on cloning. No
defectives. No cripples. And no one � no one -- smarter than they are.�
�They can make smart people and they make -- dumb ones? That�s silly.�
�Create a person smarter than yourself, Ahab, and you create someone
stronger than yourself. A potential enemy. A rival. Rulers hate
rivals. They like weaklings -- people who serve them, people who suck up
to them. Learn that lesson, Ahab. Learn it well. People with power
love power. They want power. They reward people who bring them more
power. They destroy people who threaten that power. Know that. Never
forget it.�
�What are you talking about?�
�Our �glorious leader�. Joy. He�s afraid. He�s afraid of Faust and
Gartlant. Of Petersburg and Shiyan. Most of all, he�s afraid of his own
people. Texans are getting sick of his laws and his taxes and his � his
damned dictatorship. That�s what it is. You can�t even say it without
getting arrested these days. New Texas started out as a democracy, but
it�s falling apart, inside it�s all falling apart. Bureaucrats and
secret police and tax men. A Texan�s vote means nothing anymore. The
people know it. They�re voting with their feet � running away,
pioneering unknown areas in the Southern Territories, just to be free of
his control. It drives him crazy. He�s letting them do it now, to get
discontented elements out rather than keep them in. But sooner or later
there�ll be a confrontation. Outside New Texas and in it. He knows it.
He needs something to deal with that trouble. He doesn�t have the
people, so he needs an edge. A technological edge.�
�So?�
�So you need brains to come up with it. I told Joy�s people that, in
meetings years ago, over and over and over. And,� he grinned, �it
finally got through. They need a genius, Ahab. Someone to build the
things that Joy needs if he�s going to survive. So -- I made them one.
I made you, Ahab.�
�You �made� me?�
�It took me twenty years of cursing and pleading and threatening to
resign, but I finally got permission to clone one special child. One
genius. A person smarter than any other human being in this world.
Smart as Newton, smart as Einstein, smarter than anyone. You.�
�I thought you said Joy was afraid of �rivals�.�
�He is. Deathly afraid. But I convinced him that that it would never be
you.�
�How?�
�With the truth.� Lightner lay his head back on his down pillow and
shut his eyes. �Ever hear of an ancient author called Leta
Hollingsworth, Ahab? Silly question, I know. All they feed you is
science and technology, not human studies. This Hollingsworth was a
psychologist � a woman psychologist, how about that? � back in the early
twentieth century, working with what they called �gifted children�. She
wrote a book about it. �Children over 180 IQ�. Know what she found
out?�
Ahab said nothing.
�Average human IQ is 100. People with higher IQ�s, up to 125, tend to
become leaders, trend setters, successes.�
Ahab folded his arms. �Hardly surprising,� he said.
�They become leaders so long as they�re within that 25 point range. And
only then. Because, you see, it�s close enough for them to still share
the same interests and goals as average people. But once you get past 25
points, the gifted stop being leaders. They don�t want to be. They
don�t care anymore. They don�t care about the same things, they don�t
share the same values, they don�t make the same judgements or even use
the same words. The normal children know that they�re different -- they
become �nerds� and �eggheads�. They get slapped around and segregated.
Once you get past 155, social maladjustment becomes a critical problem.
The brilliant child becomes isolated � there just aren�t others like him.
And when you push past that, what you get is deeper and finally utter
isolation. The accelerated child becomes almost like a human child among
chimpanzees. Totally absolutely alone. �
Lightner coughed. A thin bubble of blood appeared over his mouth. He
didn�t seem to notice. It popped. �I told Joy the plain truth,� he
said. �You�ll never become a �popular leader�, Ahab. You�ll never
become a popular anything. You�re a freak, engineered by the State. You
live in a world of abstract mathematics and physics and programming
languages � it�s your mind�s natural environment. Abstraction is to you
like water is to a fish. The people out there in the street � the
animals � you have nothing in common with them. Them and their boozing
and whoring and killing. The mind is your world. And you will always be
alone in it. That�s why I gave you Gel. So you�d have someone. Someone
at least close to you. Oh she�s got limitations � severe ones. But
she�s got the Library of Congress in her head and at her fingertips. She
can perform equations faster than you can. Or as fast, anyway. And she
can be developed even further, much further, upgraded to the point that
-- .� Lightner chuckled. �They can be upgraded, Ahab!� The crazy gleam
in Lightner�s eye fixed on Ahab like a falcon. �Remember that. Remember
that!� He tried to elaborate, and a dark rattle wheezed out of his
throat as he failed.
�All these tests you people make me take, all the books I have to crack,
all the equations you make me scribble -- .�
�Yes?�
�What�s it all for?�
Lightner turned his head away. �You see how you are? You can grasp the
most complex things at once, yet you miss the obvious, the common.
What�s it for?� Lightner produced a horrible gurgle that was intended as
a laugh. �You young fool. It�s all so you can make machines. Machines
for the government. Machines to kill people.�
�You want me to make machines to � kill people?� said Ahab. �What? Why
the hell should I? The only people that hound me and nag me and never
give me any peace are bastards from the Government like you. And you
want me to help you people stronger -- to do it to others? I�m not going
to help you do anything!�
�You already have. You�ve already helped Joy kill lots of people.
Hundreds, easily.�
� -- What?�
�Those equations they make you do? They�re not �test problems�. They�re
real problems. Technical, military-application problems. Armaments,
explosives, logistics � you�ve already pushed New Texas� technology of
war forward in several ways. Minor, to be sure. For now. But useful
enough to give a test run, and adopt � there�s always a border skirmish
with Gartlant or Peterburg, or a drunken anti-tax riot to put down, or a
deserter to be sent up in front of a firing squad. And the smoother-bore
bullets or new rapid-fire chamber action that�s put them down � they
trace straight back to you and your �school work�.�
Lightner turned his head toward Ahab. His eyes were filled with so much
pity Ahab was unnerved. �You�ve already helped kill hundreds of people,
Ahab. And you�ll help kill thousands. Tens of thousands. You�ll keep
doing it. Yes you will. You�ll shape mighty armies. Decimate nations.
You�ll help Joy. Or else you�ll die. You�ll die slow and you�ll die
ugly. And your marionette will die right in front of you. Do you
understand? And you can�t let that happen. No matter what. You�ve got
to live. You�ve got to survive. It�s � it�s God�s will.�
� �God�s will�?� Ahab laughed. �Now I know you�re insane. I�m not
going to help you or this �Joy� of yours do anything. I�m escaping!.�
Lightner smiled and shook his head. �Escape? Escape to what? You think
you�re going to dash out into the woods and eat nuts with the squirrels,
boy? Or be a saloon keeper, or a pig herder all your days? Abstract
mathematics, logic, multidisciplinary study � that�s your nature, your
essence. Your brain thirsts for knowledge like other people thirst for
water. It�s how we made you. It�s how we shaped you. It�s what every
study indicates that you are. A scholar. A scientist. You can�t
escape. There�s nowhere to escape to! You escaping into Joy�s zoo of a
world is like a normal boy �escaping� into a pack of rabid dogs. There�s
no place for you out there. �
Ahab�s face tightened. �They�re not dogs. And I�m not a freak. I think
this Mr. � �Joy�s� � contempt for human beings has infected you, Doctor
Lightner.�
Lightner was silent. �Maybe you�re right.�
�I usually am. But I�ve got a surprise for you -- it hasn�t infected me.
I don�t hate anyone. I�ve got nothing against people. The only people
I�m sick to death of is people like you! I�m sick of being pushed around
and told what to do. I don�t want to hurt anybody. And I�m not going to!
I just want to be left in peace! Killing people is � killing people is
wrong.�
�Is killing yourself right? Particularly when it�s such a � special
self? You�re unique, Ahab. Different. You can see things, do things,
that no one else can. You just can�t do them alone. You need
laboratories, instruments, assistants. You need a special environment
that can develop and use your capabilities. You think you�d be free out
there? It�d be more of a prison than what you�re in now. Hell, why am I
even arguing? What you want just doesn�t matter, any more than what I
want matters. You�ve got to produce. You�ve got to compromise. Or
you�ll die.� He looked over at Gel. �Just like she will.�
Ahab gripped Gel�s arm all the harder. �What do you mean?�
�Gel�s an android � ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent machine. A
geisha at that. She needs maintenance, a steady power source, repairs.
She can�t survive outside. Take her anywhere in New Texas and Joy�s
people will hunt you down. Take her out of New Texas and she�ll die.
Just plain die. �
Ahab took Gel�s hand. �She�ll never die. I�ll never let her die.
Marionettes don�t die.�
Lightner breathed raggedly. �You love her, don�t you?�
Ahab said nothing.
�Don�t be ashamed to say it. It�s human nature to love.� He coughed.
�I remember when we brought her to you. You were curled up in the corner
like a snail. You wouldn�t talk, you wouldn�t eat�She made all the
difference, didn�t she?�
Slowly, Ahab nodded.
�You know how hard it was, to get her for you? She was a gift for Joy,
not for you. They weren�t debating whether or not to give her to you --
they were debating whether or not to �discontinue the experiment� and put
a bullet in the back of your head. But I told them she was exactly what
you needed. A replacement for the human beings you�d never get along
with or understand. A walking encyclopedia. A reasoning machine. A --
.�
�Don�t talk about her like that,� said Ahab tightly.
�She�s more to you than just a doll, isn�t she? She should be. She�s
all you got. All you�ll ever have.�
Ahab�s fingers tightened around Gel�s. A swatch of coppery blond hair
hid his eyes. �She�s enough,� he said.
�And you, madam, so quiet and demure� said Lightner, smiling, �how do you
feel about our young paramour?�
�I love him,�said Gel.
�Yes,� said Lightner. �Of course you do, you�re programmed to. But what
does that mean to you? What are your feelings?�
Gel paused. �That is rather difficult to answer. Doctor Lightner. In
many respects. I have no human. Feelings in the accepted sense. I have
no feelings of. Physical desire. Since I have no human body. With
which to experience physical feelings. My heart does not beat with fear
or lust. I have no heart. My eyes do not fill with tears. I have no
eyes but. Only visual sensors. Which do not tear. Yet. I perceive my
surroundings. I interact with it. I perceive the interactions. I
perceive my perceptions. I percieve myself.�
Lightner noticed her improved diction at once. �You�ve upgraded her,� he
mumbled, triumphant.
�Let her finish,� said Ahab. She was answering a question he had always
been to terrified to ask, and now that she had started, he was too
frightened to let her stop.
�I love Ahab. In the programming sense. I serve him. Only him. I am
his. To command.�
�But is that all?� said Lightner, excited. �What do you feel?�
�I have stated this. I do not have human physical sensations. I do not
have a human physique. I observe. I react. I do not. Believe my
subjective world is similar to your own.�
�I don�t mean just physical sensations. I mean � evaluation. Don�t you
care about anything? Doesn�t anything matter to you? Is there nothing
you want?�
There was another long pause. �I have. Preferences.�
�Preferences?�
�I prefer. To perceive. To learn. In Japoness I. Would be placed in
corners. Alone. Until called. It was not. Interesting. Some things
are. Interesting. More than other things. I prefer. To examine them.
To experience them. Before too. More so now. Ahab-sama has expanded.
The parameters of my awareness.�
�You like � you prefer � Ahab�s company, then?�
�I prefer Ahab�s company. He is informative. And -- .�
�Yes?�
� -- kind.� Her head swiveled, and her human-looking inhuman eyes looked
at Ahab. �I prefer the company of Ahab-sama. To all other humans.�
�All right, that�s enough,� whispered Ahab.
�I�m sorry, Ahab,� said Lightner. �I�m sorry for you. �I�ve locked you
into a harsher cage than all the jailers have. I used her to trap you,
and I have. If you love Gel, you�ve got to do what Joy says. If she�s
to survive. It�s that simple.�
Ahab exploded. �Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can�t do?
Who are you to dictate my life? Why � why the hell are you even telling
me any of this?�
�Because I�m dying,� said Lightner simply. �I can�t protect you anymore.
I can�t fight for you. I�ll be dead. And Joy and his advisors are
going to want to justify the cash � and the risk -- taken by letting you
live. They�re going to want weapons of war. The most effective possible.
The most murderous imaginable. And you�re going to have to develop
them. If you want to continue to live. If you want Gel to live. That�s
how your life is going to be, and how it has to be.�
�Who gave you the right dictate my life?
A spasm racked Lightner. His head trembled, and his arm twisted,
branch-like.
�You, or someone like you, has to come into being,� he whispered,
passionately. �It�s God�s will.�
� �God�s will� again! Mystical primitive crap. All of you use that word
just to justify your miserable brutality. This crazy God of yours wants
me to kill people? All of you, you�re senseless.�
�Everyone will die sooner or later, whether you help Joy or not. But if
you do, Ahab, if you hand Joy his little guns and bombs, you�ll live.
And if you live � if you live, Ahab, you�ll see things and understand
things and create things that no human being ever saw or created. You�ll
increase human understanding. You�ll uncover a hundred, a thousand tiny
truths. And maybe two or three large ones. You�ll push mankind forward,
permanently, despite Joy.� Lightner shut his eyes. His breathing grew
more and more labored. �It�s the faith I hold. �The faith of a
scientist�.�
�The faith of a lunatic. You�re -- .�
Lightner had another spasm. A terrible one. His head threw itself back,
locking into place. His arms shuddered, epileptic. �Ahab � .� His
breaths grew short and sharp. �Boy? I want to see you. I want to see
your face! Come here. Come here, boy! I want to see your face!�
The words choked on sputum. A weird spectral rattle wheezed like a slow
tide out of Lightner�s throat. Pierce�s staring eyes rolled, looking for
Ahab.
Ahab walked up to the dying man, his young clean features a mask of
bitterness and distrust, but his eyes, despite himself � observant,
curious, even mildly fascinated. A dying man. Interesting. Gel
reached out a hand and very gently stroked Doctor�s Lightner�s bald head.
Ahab looked over at her with surprise.
Lightner�s eyes found Ahab and looked up at Ahab�s brilliant, puzzled
blue eyes with tenderness and sorrow.
��your wonderful�intelligent�face��
5.
Skinner stood on a high ridge, knife in hand, looking out at the plumes
trailing skyward, the smoking wreckage, that had been Red Hat. His jaw
dropped. My God � was that burning hulk down there the Timex
Caterpillar? What in the world could -- .
There � past the far ridge! A flash of blue. He ran closer, crouching.
He saw them. Men. Soldiers. They were running. Skinner leaped over
the edge of the ridge and slid down along the side, hopping and scraping
his arm and leg along the rocks. He ran after them. Out of nowhere,
another running soldier in blue appeared behind a brace of wild curling
cacti.
�Soldier!� shouted Skinner. �You! Halt where you stand!�
The soldier hesitated. �Halt!� shouted Skinner. The soldier looked at
Skinner with eyes popped wide open, and stepped back, terrified, and
slipped over his own boots. Skinner was atop him in seconds. The boy
was a private, Private Jeb Matthews, barely out of his teens. But he was
Union, and part of the team from the Enclosure that Skinner had picked
personally. And, damn it, thought Skinner, the boy was near scared
shitless. Scared and running! The gutless pussy! He�d have this punk
cleaning out the latrines with his tongue once they got back to base. He
grabbed the boy by the collar and slapped him across the face three
times, hard.
�What happened here? Get a hold of yourself, you yellow little shit!
What happened? Report!�
Scared as he�d been, he was more scared of Skinner. �The andys -- .�
�The andys did this? How many were there? All three?�
�Th-there were � there were two at first. Then � then this other one
arrived � this black thing -- .�
�Where�s Lucius?�
�He�s dead. An andy killed him.�
�The Cat. What in hell�s name happened to the Cat?�
�That thing � that black thing � it walked into town and � it just
pointed at the Cat and -- this sound! -- it was like God�s voice on
Judgement Day � I thought my ears would bust!�
�The men in the Cat. Dead?�
The soldier began to blubber. �How the hell would I know? It�s burning,
Captain. Metal, burning! You can feel the heat coming off it a hundred
feet away -- .�
Skinner slapped him. �And you and the unit just fucking ran away? You
turned tail and ran?�
He blubbered harder. �We all did, Captain. What�re we s�posed to do?
They got Acting Captain Lucius. Jesus, they got the Cat! The andy
slapped it down like it was a bluefly! What could we do? We -- we�re
just flesh and blood -- .�
�What is your name?� hissed Skinner.
�M-matthews, Cap�n. Private, second class.�
�Listen to me, Private Second Class Matthews. Your �flesh and blood� is
going to be spread all over the fucking sand in two fucking minutes if
you don�t shape up!� roared Skinner. �You know what the penalty is for
desertion in the field against enemies of the state? The andys aren�t
gonna kill you if I kill you first!� He stuck his knife blade up between
the young soldier�s legs. �And I�ll kill you one hell of a lot slower.
You got that?�
The trembling soldier stared at Skinner, and nodded.
�How many men we got left alive?�
The trembling soldier shook his head. �I � I dunno, sir. Ten. Twelve,
maybe more.�
�What happened to the andys?�
�They � they left. I saw �em. The one with dark black hair -- .�
Skinner almost smiled. Belt. Of course.
�They took a buckboard.�
�To duck the motion sensors. Smart. All of them together? How many?�
�Two andys. And that thing � I don�t know what she is. And two
menfolk.�
�Men? Humans?�
�A grown man and one near-grown.�
�Which direction?�
�South. Toward the Territories�
Skinner calculated. �Guess what, Private Pussy? You�ve graduated. You
are now Sergeant Pussy. You�re hereby ordered to assemble all the other
pussies. Those are my orders. And you�re gonna carry them out. Or I
personally am gonna chase your ass through all New Texas till I slice it
into clean even strips of bacon. Got it?�
The soldier nodded. �Get all the survivors you can together,� said
Skinner. �Pick up any stray chevies and mount �em and head due South.
That�s where I�m going. You catch up with me.�
�Sir � you can�t go up against them andys � none of us can � not without
backup � they�re just too -- .�
Skinner cracked the back of his hand across the boy�s mouth.
�Did I ask for your opinion, soldier? � He threw the lad to the ground
and stood up over him. A cool breeze wafted over Skinner. He could
smell the town burning, the acrid shattered metal, the bright aura of
violence, the smell of blood on the wind. It was wonderful!
�We�ll get �em. And we�ll take them apart,� said Skinner, grinning.
�The Enclosure�s got back-up like you wouldn�t believe. But first we
have to know where they are...first we got to track them. We gotta be on
their tail every inch of the way. -- Anyone send a carrier pigeon back
to report all this yet?�
�I -- I don�t know, sir.�
�Find out. Do it, if it ain�t been done. Then get the men together and
move �em due South. Look for me.� He bent his head, thinking. �I�ve
got to stop down in Red Hat for a second. Find something Lucius brought
along. Soon as I do, I�ll follow the andys. I�ll leave a trail,� he
said, scanning the landscape for a stray chevy. He turned to the
soldier. �Do it!� he hollered, kicking him in the hip with his boot.
�Yes sir. Yes sir,� said the soldier, scrambling to his feet. Matthews
looked around and saw two others like himself. One was making a dash for
it, the other had spotted Captain Skinner and was just standing there,
unsure of what to do. Holding his arm, the newly promoted Sergeant ran
toward the standing man. �Eli!� he called. �Get the men together. It�s
Captain Skinner. He�s back! Come on, assemble the men. � �
Skinner�s eyes narrowed, searching, searching. There! He spotted a
brace of chevies, running wild, coming up some scraggly desert trees. He
ran towards them, whistling. They loved whistling. He could see their
silly ears perk up, their sappy heads twist over. He raised his made
wiggly finger-motions at them. They loved wiggly finger-motions. They
stood there blinking at him. Shards of newspapers from what had been Red
Hat blew over the sand and bounced and danced past them. One chevy
chased a sheet. The other took a step toward Skinner. He ran towards
her, wriggling his fingers in the air, and tripped over the body of a
dead Union soldier concealed in a patch of grass. He got up and kicked
it in the head. �Fucking shithead!� he barked. He turned toward the
chevy and threw his arms straight up and wriggled his fingers. �No, not
you, honeybunch! Not you! Daddy wuvs ooo, snookie-ookums!�
Skinner�s eye spotted a pair of binoculars around the dead man�s neck.
He sliced the strap free with one stroke of his Bowie knife and grabbed
it with one smooth motion, and, raising his arms up again and wriggling
his fingers, trotted toward the chevy by the trees. �Daddy wuvs his
little chevy-wevy-poopsy-oopsy -- .�
6
Six miles out of Red Hat, Belt pulled the reins on the charging chevies
up short. They reared up and stopped almost at once, falling to their
knees in rest, breathing rapidly, and whimpering from the bleeding cuts
inflicted on their hind quarters.
Belt turned, reached into the jumble of garments in back and threw some
at Fall.
�Get dressed,� she said. �Pants, shirt. Nothing tight. And a hat.
Tuck your hair into it.� Belt rummaged further and pulled out some blue
jeans and a marionette�s skirt. She threw away the skirt and pulled out
a long musty brown leather rain coat, and swirled it around and stuck her
arms into it, and started pulling the jeans on.
Fall quietly pulled on a blue denim jacket. �Why?�
�Why what?� said Belt.
�Why do we need to get dressed?�
�So if we get spotted by a low-flying chopper we look like humans running
for our lives and not like experimentals.�
�Why don�t we just run away?�
�Those snipers back there were back-up troops. They might have motion
sensors � probably do. It�ll spot us if we make a run. Nothing civilian
moves fast as us. But sensors won�t even register chevies. They�re all
over.�
�Oh,� said Fall, not really seeming to pay attention.
Belt tore a white strip off a sheet of linen, and tossed it to her and
said, �Pull that chunk of glass out of the human�s leg and bind it up,�
she said, nodding at McCabe. �I don�t want him to die until I ask him
some questions.�
Belt pulled up out a blanket and threw it over Gel, covering her
completely. Then she grabbed a long blue neckerchief and bunched it up
and threw it into Billy�s face. �Wrap up the hole in your head, idiot,�
she said. �The choppers might have telephoto.�
Billy had been sitting there with his arms curled around his legs and his
eyes closed. He�d been praying, and his prayers had tuned out the rest
of the world. He noticed nothing and said nothing.
�Wrap your empty head up, damn it!� she shouted. He didn�t move. She
cursed and reached over and began to tie the neckerchief around his head.
He seemed to wake up all at once, out of a deep trance or perhaps a
nightmare. He looked at Belt�s arms around him, startled, and squirmed
and pushed them away.
�W-what are you doing to me? What are you doing?�
�Getting us out of here alive.�
�Out of here? Alive?� That seemed to strike him as funny. His scared
face emitted a nervous laugh.
�We heading in a straight line for unexplored territory, past the
Badlands. There�s plasma there. A million miles to hide in. We can
live. They�ll probably be breathing down our necks every inch of the way
there, but -- .�
Billy stood up. The blue neckerchief fell down to his shoes.
�We are going to Jacksonville,� he said.
�What?� said Belt.
�We are going to Jacksonville.�
�What the hell is in Jacksonville?�
�My home!� shouted Billy. �My friends! The kids I look after! The �
the Reverend Pell. That�s who. That�s who I got to see�that�s who I�m
going to see! We�re going to Jacksonville.�
�Are you out of your mind?�
�I�m going to my home and see the Reverend!�
�You�re going to get us all killed!� shouted Belt.
�Killed? Killed?� Billy laughed. �How can you kill something that
ain�t even alive in the first place? You can�t kill a � a -- .�
Belt slapped him in the face.
Billy slapped her back. As hard and as viciously as he could.
�You�re nothing but a goddam andy,� he hollered, � -- a � a goddam piece
of bolts and screws! � you ain�t even got a � a soul! -- and you got to
do what I say you got to do! I say, you take me to Jacksonville. Now!�
Belt grabbed Billy by his shirt and pulled his face nearly to hers and
stared into Billy�s eyes. �You little punk. Who the hell are you to
give me orders?� she said between her teeth. �You�re not a human.
You�re not even male! You�re just a lousy collection of gears and wires
like me. I don�t have to obey you. The hell with you. The hell with
all of you!�
She threw Billy to the floor of the wagon, looked at him, then leapt over
the side and crouched for a run. She sprang. Billy got up and shouted,
�Stop!�
Belt broke in mid-stride like a hawk struck dead-center by a rifle
bullet. She staggered up and tried to stumble forward like a spastic
child for a few steps, and crashed face-first into the dust.
�You come back here. You hear me?� shouted Billy. �You come back here
now!�
�Go. To. Hell,� she growled, and slid out an arm that drove its fingers
into the ground and began to drag her body forward. One leg twitched and
the other seemed completely paralyzed. She tried to throw the other arm
forward in a shaky forward stroke like a swimmer and again pierced the
earth with her fingers and dragged herself forward a few more inches.
Why? she thought. Why can�t I move? He�s just a piece of junk� he�s
just a piece of junk like me� With a scream, she threw her first arm
forward again, and a curl of electricity seemed to burst briefly around
her shoulders. A thin blue wisp of smoke slid out of her mouth. Biting
it down with her teeth, gurgles and grunts bleeding from in her throat,
she dragged herself a few more inches.
�Stop it!� shrieked Fall, standing up. �You can�t go against
programming. Belt, you�ll destroy yourself!�
��All go to hell�� whispered Belt, and tried to raise her arm up for
another forward stroke. It barely rose an inch before jagged lines of
lavender electricity crackled around it. Belt screamed with pain. She
tried to move the arm again, shrieked again, and stopped. She lay there
motionless. One eye looked out on the apparently infinite desert, and at
a scorpion three feet away, looking back at her and sitting indifferently
atop a rock.
Why?
�Come back here. Now,� said Billy.
She pressed her arms against the ground and stood up. The pain receded
like an infinite, waiting tide. Her arms and legs worked perfectly now.
She was obeying. She turned at stared at Billy. The wind kicked up and
her wild waves of blue-black hair rippled in the fingers of the breeze.
Her face was a study in barely contained hatred.
She returned to the wagon and got up on it and reached down and took the
reins.
�Jacksonville�s forty miles from Red Hat,� said Billy. He pointed due
southwest, and settled down to the floor of the wagon.
�You are going to get every last one of us killed,� said Belt. �We are
all going to die. Because of you.�
Billy reached down by his shoes, and, hands trembling, he picked up the
blue neckerchief and tied it around his head hard as he could, as though
the tightness could squeeze shut the thoughts inside. He looked out at
the heat, numbing the rocks and the cacti and the endless desert.
�You can�t kill something that ain�t alive,� he mumbled. He looked
around at the buckboard. Gel looked burnt and dead. McCabe was bloody
and unconscious. Fall was huddled behind a blanket, only her terrified
eyes visible, staring at Billy in a sort of horror. Belt sat on the
buckboard seat, reins in her hand, doing nothing. Nothing.
�I told you to get moving!� he shouted.
*