The Harvest Cycle (15 page)

    “Might as well look like a clown.”

    He grinned at himself. His smile was broken, a gash tearing across his face. It was hideous.

    He laughed hysterically.

    “Oh, we’re gonna have a hell of time, aren’t we? I hope you’ve still got those humans with you, little playthings. Going to be one holy
hell
of a time.”

    He pulled out his Gyros and sat them in his lap. He could, conversely, just blow his own brains out right here and now. But where was the fun in that?

    “No, we’ll play.”

    How had he come to this so easily? Was that all it took, a truck to the face, one bad night? One rotten moment and the whole world was suddenly a joke?

    This was what it was to be human, wasn’t it?

    He smiled, stamped his foot down on his watery reflection and watched the ripples render his face to nothing.

    “You think the Harvesters are something. Oh, no. Wait till you meet
me.
”

    He fired off a couple of rounds and hooted. Then he skipped off down the road.

***

    “How long do you think we have until the Harvesters get here?” Amanda asked Bruce.

    “Days. A few days.”

    DaVinci led the way up a trail, barely visible through the grass, up the mountain.

    West caught up to him. “Jack, is it?”

    “That’s right.”

    “I’m Mike.”

    “How do you feel about me? Do you hate me?”

    “No,” West said, “we just didn’t understand one another. But we have a common goal. A common enemy.”

    “You really think we’ll be able to co-exist after all this?”

    “Why not?”

    “I miss my dreams. I envy you, Mike. I’m bitter.”

    “Maybe there’s something we can do.”

    “I don’t think so,” DaVinci said. “No, this is how it’ll be for the rest of my life. But I’ll get by.”

    Lucy poked Bruce. “Yes?” He asked.

    “I haven’t named my puppy yet.”

    “Why not?”

    “Just couldn’t think of a name.”

    “Is your father named Walter?”

    Lucy nodded. “Do you know him?”

    Bruce looked like he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it down and just nodded.

    “He’s not well. He sleeps a lot. But he’s really nice.”

    “Maybe you should name the dog Walter.”

    “That’d be funny,” Lucy said.

    “It would be nice, for your dad.”

    “Wally, maybe.” Lucy patted the mutt and giggled. “Do you like Wally, boy?”

    “I think he likes it.”

    “Okay,” Lucy said, “we’ll try it out. Okay Wally?”

    The dog opened its mouth in something resembling a smile. Bruce smiled back.

***

    “What’s that?” Cutter asked, pointing to a large, steepled building down the hill.

    “A Mormon temple,” Cinnamon said.

    “You think there’s anything good in there?”

    “Wouldn’t hurt to look.”

    “If these guys were preparing for an apocalypse, you’d think there might be some shelters around here. Maybe underground,” Hitch mused. “There might be people here.”

    “If there are, they’re damn quiet,” Cutter said.

    “Wait,” Delmar said, raising his hand. “I hear something. Up ahead.”

    “Animal?”

    “Maybe.”

    “Could be a wildcat.” Cutter pulled out DaVinci’s gun. “Glad he never asked for this back.”

    “Put that away,” said Cinnamon. “Let me and Delmar handle this.”

    “Shit.” Cutter raised his eyebrows and holstered the gun.

    Drawing their Gyros, the two bots crouched and scanned the road ahead. After several moments, they relaxed their stances. “Stay alert,” Cinnamon told the others.

    “So how about we check the temple?” Cutter suggested.

    “Let’s sweep these houses first,” replied Cinnamon, “and take the temple early tomorrow.”

    “Might as well start with the houses and expand further out from there,” Hitch said, nodding. Cutter rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

    Delmar touched his hand to his head. “Receiving a transmission from Bruce. They’ve found a freshwater stream.”

    “Thank God,” Hitch said. “I could use a wash.”

    “I could use a cool drink,” Cutter said, smacking his lips.

    “You could use a wash, too,” Cinnamon told him.

    “Let’s see about the houses, then,” said Hitch, and they headed, together, to the first decrepit home on the left.

    The rest of the day was without event. When night fell, they returned to the cemetery, listening to the songs of the birds in the trees and the rustling of creatures in the tall grass.

    The other team brought down canteens filled with water, which was then boiled over a small fire. A sponge was passed around for the humans to use, going behind the van one at a time and rinsing the grime from their bodies.

    DaVinci excused himself and went to his cab. He took the last nodules from his jar, swallowing them reluctantly, putting the empty container back in the glove box and patting his stomach. One last high before he and the others went into seclusion to wait out the Harvest.

    “I’d like to try something with you,” Bruce said to Amanda. “You told me you’ve been able to commune with Nightmare in your sleep. I’d like to put you under and use my nanotech system to interface with your subconscious - to ‘eavesdrop’ on yourself and Nightmare, as it were. Would you be willing to try?”

    She nodded. “Is there any chance I’d be hurt?”

    “Not by the nanotech,” Bruce replied. “And I believe I can keep Nightmare from detecting my presence. In any event, even if it did discover me, I don’t believe it can hurt you either. All right?”

    She looked to West, who nodded also. “Worth a shot.”

    “I don’t know,” said Hitch.

    “It’ll be all right,” West assured him. “She’s stronger than you think.”

    “I’m not doubting her, Mike,” Hitch said angrily, “I just don’t know about all this nanotech stuff, and frankly, I don’t think we know the least bit about Nightmare and what it’s capable of.”

    “If I sense any problems, I’ll bring both myself and Amanda out of the dream,” Bruce said.

    “You’d better,” Hitch replied. Amanda gave him a smile and patted his knee.

    “Let’s do this then.” Bruce turned his wrist palm-side up and pinched his flesh. A small segment came away, revealing a cluster of tubes resembling fiber optic wires. “I’ll use these both to lull Amanda into unconsciousness and to plug into her mind. Are you ready, ma’am?”

    “I’m ready.”

    “Lie back and relax,” Bruce said, and drew the tubes from his arm. “This won’t hurt.”

    Hitch sat back with a resigned sigh, crossing his arms. West leaned forward with interest.

    Amanda closed her eyes and prepared to interface, both with the bot and with Nightmare itself.

15.

The Court of Chaos.

    
"Outside the ordered universe [is] that amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity-the boundless daemon sultan Azathoth, whose name no lips dare speak aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time and space amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the thin monotonous whine of accursed flutes."

     "The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath", H.P. Lovecraft

    Amanda entered darkness, nothingness. There were no walls; there was no floor or ceiling. No stars. No wind. No air. Nothing.

    A gray mist grew about her, starting as a point in front of her and growing to encircle her body. From it rose a ghostly shape, almost indiscernible, but she knew it was the Jabberwock.

    
What do you want now?

    “Has the Harvest begun? Are you sending them for me?”

    
You know I am, girl. Can’t you feel them drawing ever closer? They’re in the streets, the hills, the forests. Oh yes, they’re coming.

    “You don’t even know where I am.”

    
Does it matter? And do you really think you can hide that from me, anyhow? You think I can’t pry into the most private rooms and corridors of your mind? I see all.

    “They won’t find me. I’ve lived this long, I’ll survive another Harvest.”

    
You amuse me. I love this game we’re playing. Let’s see then, where you are.

    
Yes...yes...

    
Ah, Utah. One of my favorite haunts. The Mormons have such naughty little dreams. Hot-blooded, they are.

    “I’m not afraid of you. None of us are.”

    
You have robots with you. How curious. So you’ve turned them against me. This is going to be even more fun than I’d anticipated.

    “I don’t fear you, either.” Bruce’s voice.

    “What are you doing?” Amanda exclaimed.

    Nightmare laughed. It was a terrible, off-key giggle that resonated throughout Amanda’s mind, chilling her.

    
I’ve talked with you before, machine, haven’t I? You were one of the first I spoke with. No...
the
first.

    “I know all about you, and Azathoth, and the rest,” Bruce’s disembodied voice said. “And I know you lied to me.”

    
How does it feel to have wasted fifty years hunting and killing humans? To have furthered my agenda? You foolish little sack of gears and screws, you may know the truth but you’ve helped me dupe all the rest of them. There are millions of robots combing the earth right now, slaughtering Man. Will you get through to all of them, ever?

    “In due time,” Bruce replied.

    
And in the meantime, you can rest easy knowing that the hunt goes on?

    “I don’t feel guilt.”

    
I don’t believe you.

    
They made you too human, filled you with too many moral fallacies. You’re imperfect, just like them, and you
do
feel regret, machine. I can smell it on you.

    The Jabberwock tilted its head, eyes focusing on Amanda.
Would you like to see my court, girl? Would you like to see the hell I call home?

    “I don’t care,” Amanda said. “You can show me all you want, I’m not afraid.”

    
Then look, girl, look upon Azathoth!

    And the darkness was washed away by a blinding light, a teeming, writhing, living light that radiated outward from a churning nucleus. And within it...there was something beyond description, something Amanda’s mind couldn’t even fathom, couldn’t process. She tried to turn her head away but the Jabberwock’s claws clamped down on her skull.

    
Look at it!

    She shut her eyes. The light burned through her eyelids.

    “Bruce!” She screamed.

    “I’m trying!” The bot yelled. The Jabberwock laughed again, shaking her head from side to side. The light surrounded her. It was unimaginably cold, permeating her flesh and eating into her bones. It was a cancer gnawing its way into the pit of her subconscious.

    And then she was torn away from it all, torn away from the Jabberwock and out of the dream. Her eyes, her real eyes, snapped open, and Bruce pulled her into his arms, retracting the tubes that he’d plugged into her nostrils and ears.

    “Mandy!” Hitch cried. He and West grabbed at her.

    “Wait!” Bruce yelled. He looked into her eyes. “Are you awake? Say something!”

    “I...” She stammered. “My God...I saw it all. I saw it...it’s slipping away from me, I’m forgetting it even now but I still feel so cold...oh, God...”

    “What happened? What did you see?” West cried.

    “I saw chaos,” she breathed.

    She seized West’s hands. “It knows where we are. It still doesn’t know all about the Plan, but it knows we’re in Utah. And it’s sent the Harvesters for us.”

    “It’s all right,” West said.

    “Like hell it is!” Hitch growled. He scooped Amanda up and stared into her eyes. “Are you going to be all right? Are you all there?”

    “I think so,” she said. He held her head to his chest and whispered, “Jesus.”

    “We need to keep you from going into REM sleep and dreaming,” Bruce said to Amanda. “I can monitor your sleep from now on.”

    “Is that right?” Hitch snapped. “You sure you don’t want to put her through this again? Huh? Mike, are you still not satisfied? Want to fuck around with her head some more?”

    “Hitch-”

    “No! No more!” He clutched Amanda tighter, refusing to let her go. “You’re going to get us all killed, starting with Mandy, and I won’t have it.”