Reconception: The Fall (13 page)

Jersey shrugged. "I just care about doing my work; it
doesn't really have anything to do with the earth project."

"I know," Morgan smiled, "that's one of the reasons
I chose you for this mission. I knew you'd understand."

Jersey looked more puzzled than ever. "So what are
you planning?"

"We're going to end the earth project once and for
all."

Jersey snorted, reminding Morgan of his wife's
response so long ago. "Oh, I know, it's like a religion to some of
those people. That's why we have to take drastic measures to make
sure that the project can never be restarted."

Jersey, who had been slouched in his seat, sat up
straighter and managed to look both bewildered and troubled at the
same time. "Can you think of anything that would end the earth
project so completely, Jersey?"

"Yes, but only a madman ... "

"Or a genius ... "

“...would even consider it," Jersey finished.

"Exactly."

CHAPTER 11

Foothills: 2128

Garret lifted his head from the baked red dirt on
which he lay, and studied the interior of his cell. He had been
held in here since last night when he'd refused to cooperate with
the God by using the Goddess. Though he had no idea what they were
specifically planning for him, he knew it meant making him a
sacrifice.

He laughed, a thin, weak sound that stretched his
dry, cracked lips and hurt his throat. When was the last time he'd
had a drink of water? Maybe they intended that he die of
thirst.

It was afternoon, and the cell was a sweatbox, the
heat like a vice squeezing the life out of him. Thoughts of Evie,
of the sweet softness of Evie, tripped through his mind and got all
mixed up with other memories: the smell of the first pink blossoms
of spring Outside, their laboratory, his hand lifting her hair off
her neck, the musky smell of Cashmere .... What would happen to
Southeast now? He supposed that everyone would die, all because
he'd been curious.

Footsteps outside alerted him and he sat up as the
little door near the floor was opened, and a jug pushed through it.
Grabbing it, he pulled the stopper out and lifted it to his
lips.

It was some kind of soup, lukewarm but wet, oh so
deliciously wet. Ideas of dying of thirst receded to be replaced
with new possibilities. Obviously, they meant to sacrifice him in
some important ceremony. He'd dared to stand up to the God and
would have to be punished. At the same time, he'd dared to stand up
for the Goddess and should, by all rights, be rewarded. Except that
it was clearly the God who had the power.

Anxiety about the shortness of his future was not
relieved by his worry about Evie. By now, she knew that he was out
here alone, unless something had happened to Red Deer and Cries at
the Moon. Garret had known Evie all their lives. He knew that if
she knew he was out here, then she was on her way. He didn't want
her to die, but he wished she were with him now.

He had to escape! He had been slowly peeling away the
wood on the back wall of the box with his fingernails, reducing the
thick planks to thinner ones. Right now, besides innumerable
splinters in his fingers, he had an area almost a foot square that
couldn’t be more than a quarter inch thick. He planned to wait
until near dawn before throwing his shoulder into it and breaking
through. He peeled back another thin sliver and groaned as it slid
under his fingernail.

He had no time to remove it however, because the door
suddenly burst open and two men stepped inside the cell and dragged
him to his feet. They didn’t speak as they shoved him through the
maze of assorted junk that comprised the main foundations of the
village, and entered a narrow doorway into an ancient concrete
structure.

It was dim inside and cool. An open space in one wall
that must have been a window in another era let light in at the far
end of the long room. His escorts led him forward, leaving him in
the light and retreating into the shadows. Garrett didn’t have long
to wait. A priest of some kind, dressed in a long robe covered with
cryptic designs, stepped forward and pinned him in his gaze. The
markings tattooed on his face in black dramatically emphasized his
position.

“We have a problem,” the man stated. His English was
formal and uncorrupted. “I don’t know where you came from—you’re
obviously not from around here—but your refusal to ... participate
last night has created a serious situation.”

Garrett shrugged, waiting to see what would
develop.

“The Goddess has been refused.”

“Because I refused to rape the woman?”

“She was an earthly incarnation of the Goddess, and
she was there of her own free will. It’s not rape; it’s our
contribution to Her fertility.”

The snort that escaped Garrett’s nose was comment
enough.

“You also insulted the God by refusing his gift. We
must appease them. You must pay the price. This has never happened
before, so a suitable ceremony must be devised to undo what you
have done, and avert the disaster sure to be brought on us by your
grievous error.”

Garrett blanched. “Why are you telling me this?”

The priest sighed. “It’s best if you know. Then you
can go before the God and Goddess with your heart cleansed of
guilt. In fact, your understanding is necessary. You do see that a
sacrifice must be made? How else can we atone for your sin and
ensure our own safety? Our crops ... the weather ... these are in
Their Hands.”

“Look, I’m a scientist, a New Scientist ... I don’t
believe in Gods and Goddesses ... I don’t ... ”

“Silence!” the priest shouted. “How dare you speak of
disbelief before me, High Priest of the Drudes? You ... scientist?
You are one of them? One of those who destroyed everything?”

Too late, Garrett remembered Eagle’s and Teller’s
first reaction to that word. One of the Evildoers, they’d said.

The priest was very agitated. He signaled to his
henchmen who grabbed Garrett’s arms, and carried him, struggling
all the way, back to his stifling little cell.

Evie had as little idea what to do as Garret had. Her
shoulders ached from being pulled behind her back, and her wrists
were rubbed raw from the ropes. She groaned as she twisted onto her
other side, trying to relieve the strain on her shoulders. She had
been lying in the dust of this little cell all day, and she was
exhausted in every way: mentally, physically, and emotionally.

She had given up thinking some time ago while
watching the sun come up through the cracks in the boards. Her body
screamed with pain, her stomach growled with hunger and her heart
ached with dread. The packed dirt under her was hard, and offered
no relief. When the door opened abruptly, the bright light briefly
added to her misery, and she shut her eyes.

After a moment, she opened them and discovered that
she was no longer alone in the cell. A woman sat on the ground next
to her, watching. Evie struggled to a sitting position.

"I'l un tye yu," she said, motioning with her head
at Evie's wrists.

Evie looked at her. She was clean, and unlike the
others Evie had seen, very beautiful—tall and delicately muscular
with fine smooth skin. How did she figure into this horrible
society? Since the woman seemed to want to untie her, Evie turned
around and let her do it, shaking her hands free at last and
bringing them forward where she could rub the soreness out of her
arms.

The woman eased closer and began to slowly massage
her neck and shoulders. Evie groaned as pain shot through her
tortured muscles. "Who are you?" she winced.

"M'name's L'aural. I'mere t'get yu redy."

"Ready? For what?"

The woman laughed. "Yu d'no noe? Yu'r lukee. Y’ur
choez'n."

Evie turned to look into the smiling dark eyes, and
the woman nodded solemnly to add emphasis to her words. Knowing
she'd been chosen for something important to these people sent
chills up Evie's spine. Whatever it was, she didn't think she would
have volunteered. "For what?" she ventured.

L'aural laughed. "Yu'l save's."

Had she heard right? Save's? Save is? Save us? "No
... I don't think so. I’m sure I cannot save you."

L'aural smiled and patted her arm reassuringly. "Do
nobe u'frade. Yu'l save's."

Northeast USA: 2128

Finding the warheads had been difficult in theory.
In reality, it was nearly impossible. Morgan knew the missile silos
were close, but the terrain was a mess and landmarks had
disappeared. Roads were eroded and overgrown with some kind of
black rot that seemed to grow more profusely the farther north they
went. He gripped the steering wheel, glad that the walls of the
vehicle protected them from the blight outside. Looking at it, he
felt not just justified in his purpose, but vindicated. As if the
bleak horror of the landscape proved nuclear destruction a laudable
solution.

Morgan glanced over at Lipton, who’d been silent ever
since he’d learned about the mission. “What do you think? Should I
turn or keep going straight?” It was starting to get dark and he
didn’t want to be caught outside in this nightmare of a world, not
even in the mobile unit. He wanted to get there, do what they’d
come to do, and get back to the habitat. This diseased place held
no welcome for civilized human beings.

Lipton studied Morgan coldly. He knew that he stood
no chance of resisting the man’s relentless determination, but it
didn’t make it any easier to accept his role in this. Though he
wanted no part of it, he had no idea how to fight.

As if reading his thoughts, Morgan laughed. “Hey
Lipton, get over it. All you have to do is make a few adjustments
to the machinery so that I can launch the missiles from the
habitat. And that’s it. It’s nothing.”

“You call destroying a world nothing?”

“Come on! Look out there! It’s already destroyed.
There’s nothing here for us!”

Although he hated to agree with him, Lipton had to
admit that the blighted landscape didn’t look worth saving.

Foothills: 2128

Garrett worked feverishly at the wood. He knew how
the priesthood had reasoned out his actions of the night before and
that time was running out. The day was descending into twilight and
it was getting harder to see what he was doing. His hands screamed
with the pain of what felt like a thousand splinters. But after
ineffectively trying to remove as many of these as possible, he
quickly gave up and forced them to continue to scrabble against the
wood, peeling it back sliver by tiny sliver.

As the light grew dim and darkness descended on him,
he heard the sounds of people moving past his box and gathering
nearby. They had to have arrived for the ceremony and as he was the
star attraction, their presence meant that he was out of time.

Grimacing, he put his shoulder to the wood and pushed
as hard as he could against it. It creaked, but it didn’t break.
Garrett tried again, this time bracing his legs against the
opposite wall, with his hands on the weakened spot. By
straightening his elbows he should be able to apply enough pressure
to break through.

His muscles were well trained and though they
protested the effort required of them, they didn’t falter, and as
he strained the wood began to give, splintering along a crack that
gave him further leverage. Outside he heard voices calling, and the
orange light from a fire was visible through the small opening he’d
just created.

The space had to be widened. Grabbing the edge of a
board with his fingers, he pulled with all his strength, breaking
it and moving that much closer to freedom. The next board and the
next were split and broken in the same way until the opening seemed
large enough.

Thrusting his leg through, he planted it on the other
side of the wall. His other leg followed. Then he slowly wriggled
his body past the jagged edges of the wood opening. Something
snagged on his shirt and he writhed back and forth as he tried to
free it.

Footsteps approached. Garrett wrenched himself free
of the snag, leaving a long scratch on his chest as he drew his
head out of the hole. Pulling himself from his knees to his feet,
he looked up at three armed men who appeared to be waiting for him
to complete his escape. They were amused.

Evie looked on as if from a great distance as she was
led out of the little room and into the night. It was almost as if
she were watching it all happen to someone else. None of it seemed
real to her, except the pain of course. Her shoulders still
throbbed. Her legs and hands were scratched up. Her bottom felt
like one big bruise after riding for so long. And now, who knew
what would happen next?

They stood her in the middle of a clearing set up
like a stage with robed men forming the back and sides. Behind her
was a low table with a sheet over it and in back of that, a higher
table, almost like an altar, she thought. She observed the crowd of
wretched looking people gathering around. Where is Garret? She
thought. The words rolled around her head like a mantra: where’s
Garret? Where’s Garret? Where’s Garret?

And then suddenly, he was there. Garret was being
pushed through the crowd toward the center where she stood, decked
in flowers and beads, wondering what was going on. Evie was so
relieved to see him that for a moment, she forgot that they were in
desperate trouble.

Suddenly, Garret was pushed forward, and he fell to
his knees in front of her. He looked up at her and smiled, but it
was a sad smile, a hurt smile. The crowd murmured and then started
to chant.

At the back of the crowd, Teller and Eye of Eagle
were blending in. They stamped their feet along with the crowd, and
slowly moved in time to the beat. Eagle leaned toward Teller and
whispered, “The odds stink.”