The Demon Plagues (28 page)

Durgan’s hand abruptly shook the iced tea
glass, spilling its contents. He scrabbled convulsively for his
phone, but Skull wrenched it out of his hand before he could use
it.

“Now, Doctor, I’m trying to have a civilized
conversation and you’re being very impolite.” He gently placed the
phone, face-down, off to the side. “I have no desire to hurt you
more than necessary, but I have no compunction about doing so. None
whatsoever. To make sure you realize how serious I am about this,
I’m going to demonstrate.”

He reached out like a striking snake, seizing
Durgan’s left hand and slamming it flat onto the table.
Middle-aged, soft and out of shape, the doctor was too slow and
weak to prevent it. Without warning, without threat, like a chef
with a carrot, Skull snapped the doctor’s left middle finger.

Skull held on to the hand, effortlessly
controlling the screaming man’s jerking struggles. “Hold still. If
you keep that up, it will just get messy. Now calm down and think.
Doctor, are you thinking? Are you calm?”

Durgan nodded, tears of pain still streaming
down his face.

“You’re a man of science. Now think! What if
you don’t tell me what I want to know, if you don’t do what I want
you to do, and instead of breaking things I cut off all your
fingers. And your toes. Your nose, perhaps your balls…let’s say
that’s what it took before you cracked. I don’t think it will be,
but let’s just suppose. What would you do?” Skull waited. “Come on,
what would you do?”

Durgan whispered something.

“What was that?”

“Eden Plague.”

“Very good, doctor! So no matter what I do to
you short of killing you, you have an out. You have options. It
will change your life, sure, but maybe the new government will be a
little less hard on the poor Sickos than the last. But what if you
can’t get the Plague? What are your options?”

Durgan licked his lips, and Skull shook his
head. “The shock and pain are wearing off now and you’re starting
to get stupid and brave, but you are helpless, doctor. I’ve killed
more people than you have even
met
in your lifetime, and no
one’s ever come close to killing me. You won’t be that man.”

He sighed, looking for what he wanted in the
other man’s eyes, not seeing it. “Always so stupid,” Skull
muttered. He took out his sheath knife and without warning sliced
off the first joint of the finger he gripped, with a casual flick
of the blade.

This time the screaming went on for a while,
to end in blubbering and promises.

“Now look, this didn’t have to happen. All
you have to do is cooperate and give me what I want, and this will
all be over. Now where were we? Oh, yes, options. What if you
couldn’t get the Plague? Or didn’t want to? Oh, you don’t want to
tell me?” He raised the knife again.

“Wait! I can’t! It’s conditioning! I can’t
tell you! I can only talk to cleared people! I’ll do all I
can!”

“Conditioning. Mind control. Right. No
conditioning in the world can keep you from doing what you want to
do, unless there’s some kind of consequence involved. Do you have
an implant? Something that will stop your heart or fry your brain
if you do or say the wrong thing? No? Then you will have to try
harder for me, doctor. Let me help you. Tell me about Tiny
Fortress.”

Durgan’s jaw gaped open. “Where did you hear
that name?”

“It doesn’t matter. I know that if it’s not
your project, at least you’ll know where it is. You had the Eden
Plague project until we took it from you at Watts Island – yes, I
was there – and I figure you’re just the type of guy they might
give it to. Or at least, you’ll know who does have it. So, is Tiny
Fortress your project now?”

Durgan froze like a rabbit before a
snake.

“Thank you, doctor, that’s what I needed. I
know it’s a nanotechnology project that the UG was working on. What
was it for – to cure the Plague? Tell you what, if I’m right, don’t
say anything. If I’m wrong, shake your head no. So, was it to cure
the Plague? No. Was it to supplant the Plague? Yes…was it to do
what the Plague does without the virtue effect? Yes, very good,
doctor. You see, I know the basics already. How long until it’s
ready?”

Durgan gobbled, his words nonsense
babble.

“Ah. some kind of kinesthetic block. Fine,
we’ll keep on with the yes or no questions…will it be ready within
a year? Yes…within a month? Yes, oh very good. Within a week? It’s
ready already? You are testing it on people?”

Durgan stared at the table, saying
nothing.

“Doctor, I can still kill you, after a great
deal of pain. Do I need to remind you again?”

Durgan’s voice climbed to a shriek. “What do
you want from me? I’m not disagreeing with anything you said! How
can you possibly know all this?”

“Because the harder you people try to keep
secrets, doctor, the more they leak out. Did you ever wonder why
the Nazis and the Soviets couldn’t keep their secrets any better
than the West? Because if you create a regime that rewards betrayal
and corruption, people will become corrupt and betray you too. And
fear doesn’t make for loyal people, only scared ones. Look at you!
If you truly believed in what you did, you’d die before you told me
anything. But you’ve already sold them out. Might as well go all
the way.”

“What do you mean? I can’t get you into the
lab. I literally can’t!”

“That’s all right. I don’t want to go there.
I don’t want to
steal
your precious nanobots. I have
something much better in mind. Take me to your real boss. The one
in charge of the whole thing.”

“Uh…yes, I can do that, I believe. I can’t
tell you his name but I can bring you to his house.”

“Perfect.” Skull stood up, still holding on
to the stump of Durgan’s finger, one joint light. “Do you have some
tape? Any kind will do, duct tape is good. Yes, there we go, now
just hold that up high, above your heart to retard the bleeding.”
He taped Durgan’s finger up tight. “Let’s go. The sooner we do
this, the sooner you get fixed.”

Half an hour later the two men drove under an
old-fashioned open western ranch gate with the words “Double-T
Ranch” and the letters “TT” emblazoned on the crossbeam. The house
was set a half mile back, a huge six-bedroom one-storey with a
wraparound porch and a horse barn off to the side. They pulled the
rental around the driveway loop and parked next to a dually truck
and a large antique American luxury car from before the turn of the
century.

A young, hard man with ‘military’ written all
over him stepped onto the massive front porch, his hand on a
holstered .45. He relaxed slightly when he saw Durgan get out.

The Doctor waved at him with forced
cheeriness. “Hey, JT, your dad around?”

“He’s getting a ride in on Foley before
sundown. Who’s your friend?”

“He’s why we’re here. Can’t really say more
until your dad comes.” Durgan’s look was strained but he managed to
keep himself together. He kept his left hand firmly in his jacket
pocket.

“Well, let’s just sit on the porch and have
something to drink.” JT gestured to the padded wooden furniture.
“What would you gentlemen like?”

“Triple scotch, neat if you don’t mind,”
answered Durgan.

“Beer if you have it,” said Skull.

“Be right out.” JT slipped inside.

Before he could return with the drinks, an
older man, fit and erect in the saddle, rode up at a canter on a
bay gelding. Dismounting smoothly he looped the horse’s reins onto
the bumper of the dually, then strode over to the porch. He wore
jeans, a western shirt, a short leather jacket and roper’s gloves
with the fingertips cut out, an old Peacemaker on his hip.

Durgan waved from his chair, and Skull stood
up, his open coat allowing easy access to his automatic holstered
in his armpit. “Good evening, General. My name is Alan Denham.
Master Gunnery Sergeant, US Marine Corps, Retired.”

“Nobody’s retired at your age in these here
United States, Guns. How come you’re special?”

“General, if you don’t mind us all sitting
down together, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

The older man stared at the two visitors,
then his eyes flicked to the front door, where his son was coming
out with a tray clamped in one hand. The other one rested on the
butt of his weapon. “All right. Let’s sit down.”

They took places around the table on the
ample front porch. Durgan grabbed his drink and gulped half down
right away, his eyes darting from man to man like a caged
animal.

“I can see Doc here is a mite nervous, and I
don’t know you, so why don’t you ease us all’s minds and ‘splain
what this is all about.”

“First, let’s simplify everyone’s
calculations, sir.” Skull reached awkwardly with his left hand and
drew his pistol out with two fingers by the butt, placing it on the
windowsill behind him. “Now you can stop your hands hovering over
those antiques you’re carrying like we’re going to have an
old-timey shootout.”

Durgan spoke up suddenly, as if released from
a vow, babbling, “I didn’t want to bring him here, Travis, but he
–”

“Shut up, Doctor,” Skull said
conversationally. “General, the good Doctor did not want to bring
me here; I did force him.” He shrugged. “You know him better than I
do; do you think he could stand up to pain?”

The older man looked at Durgan flatly, then
at JT, then back to Skull. “No, I s’pose not. So spill it, son,
before I lose patience.”

Skull’s thin lips smiled. “Good, I like a
straightforward man. General Tyler, I’ve heard of you. I heard of
you when I was a Marine, I heard of you when I was killing SS thugs
and Psychos in Mexico City, and I heard of you since the bombs
fell. Everyone says you’re a man of integrity but a flexible man
too, a patriot who’s not too proud to do what’s necessary but who
stayed clean through the last decade of hell.”

“Get your lips off my ass and come to the
point.”

Skull chuckled. “I know about Tiny Fortress.
Like you, I turned down my chance at immortality with the Plague.
But if the nanites, whatever you call them, work like they’re
supposed to, I want in.”

“And who the hell are you to want in on the
most important military project of this century? I got a million
tough guys that want it too.”

Skull smiled wider. “I think I’m unique. Any
of your other tough guys have over five hundred
personal
kills at range? Any of your other tough guys
personally
take
down over two hundred Psychos and never get caught? Any of your
other tough guys
personally
acquainted with the most
important man on the planet?”

General Tyler’s lips thinned as his eyes
widened in recognition. “You’re the Ghost. The one they could never
catch down in Mexico. Do you have any idea how much trouble you
caused for us?”

“Not for us!” Skull slammed his palm down on
the table. “For the Unionists! The UGNA wasn’t my country, it was a
God-damned neo-Nazi Frankenstein that trampled on the Constitution
and murdered its own citizens in concentration camps.”

Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like you did
some murdering yourself.”

Skull hissed, “War is not murder. Not when
it’s a fight for freedom. I swore an oath to uphold the
Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and to bear
true faith and allegiance to the same! Every SS trooper took an
oath to the Unionist Party and to the Triumvirate, something that
doesn’t even exist anymore. I never killed one regular soldier. I
stayed loyal when not a lot of other people did, loyal to the truth
and to the USA. Not to some…Fourth Reich fantasy.”

Tyler held up his hand. “All right, son, I
hear you. You did what you thought was right. I never liked them
sumbitches either. So now you want to come back to the flag.”

“General, consider who I am, what I
represent, and what I can do. The country needs people like me, and
I need Tiny Fortress. Look at me. I’m getting old. Ten years and
all I’ll be good for is instructing. But if it’s what I think it
is, Tiny Fortress can keep me and others like me effective for as
long as we’re needed. And General, we’re going to be needed.”

“How do you figure? It ain’t gonna be
Soldiers and Marines that fight these aliens. They’re dropping
diseases on us, not robots or combat troops.”

“For now. But eventually they’ll have to come
in person. And Tiny Fortress can fight off the diseases too, can’t
it?”

“Maybe. These nanites, they’re not like the
Eden Plague. Viruses are submicroscopic, extremely complex. The
nanites we have are huge, and simple by comparison. It’s like
elephants stomping mice right now.”

Skull pressed on, sensing victory. “But if
I’m right, we’re pouring resources into this. The Demon Plague –
that’s what they’re calling it, right? – this alien plague is
killing Edens and making normal people stupid and vicious. If the
bombs hadn’t killed so many and shut down most of the
transportation system in this country it would be even worse than
it is, but right now the Demon Plague is under control, more or
less. However, the Free Communities are way ahead of us in
biological research. The only thing the US has that can compete is
the nanites.”

“I know all this, Denham. I know it better
than you do. But what can you add to the program?” General Tyler
was still skeptical, but he was interested now.

“I’ll be a guinea pig volunteer for whatever
you want. I’m sure that’s not unique. But once I’m done with that,
once I am your poster boy for Tiny Fortress, I can get through to
Markis.”

JT spoke for the first time in a while. “Dad,
I think we should bring him in. We need men like him. But what do
you mean, get through to Markis? The politicians and diplomats can
handle it.”

“I know him. I know what he wants, how he
thinks, how to convince him to cooperate.”