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Authors: Bryan Walker

The Saffron Malformation (100 page)

BOOK: The Saffron Malformation
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The Long Night and The Endless Day

 

 

             
“Holy shit,” Eric was saying, his palm caressing the rough stubble that had grown across his neck.  “Those things are awesome.”  He turned to Ryla and said, “Tell me again why you didn’t bring them.”

             
Ryla sat silent in the main room of the passenger car where everyone had gathered to watch the news feed.  Quey and Eric were at the table with her.  Natalie and Rachel were sitting with the kids at one adjacent, and Arnie was at the bar working on his second glass of shine.

             
“Hello?” Eric asked, snapping his fingers in front of her face.  She didn’t flinch, just stared up at the smoldering compound as the last images the news had of the battle looped over and over again.  They were milking it pretty hard.  Eric looked at Rachel and shrugged.

             
“Leave her be,” Rachel told him with a bit of authority.

             
“I just don’t understand.  If you had shit like that-”

             
“You
don’t
understand,” Ryla agreed softly, her voice trembling.  Eric looked at her but she didn’t meet his gaze.

             
Eric shrugged, “So help me.”

             
“I don’t know if I can.”

             
“Lets look at the good of this,” Quey interrupted.  When he felt everyone’s attention was settled on him he went on.  “We’ll be on west continent in a matter of hours.  Things should be in place for us to move forward with our plan by when?” he asked Eric.

             
“As early as tomorrow.”

             
“Blue Moon’ll be so wrapped up in this they won’t pause to consider anything else.”

             
There was a nod of agreement from everyone.

             
“Right.  So we move ahead and while these things are causing a ruckus we make one of our own.”

             
Eric scratched his chin thoughtfully.  “Not a bad plan.  Still, I’d have liked to have had one of those things with us.”

             
“We might have that and more,” Ryla said, looking down at her sheet.

             
“How do you mean?” Quey asked.

             
“I got a reply from the building.  I still don’t have access but he gave me a button.”

             
“A button?” Eric asked.

             
“It’ll switch the base to assault mode.”

             
“Why is that helpful?” Rachel asked.

             
“It won’t be,” she replied.  “Not at first.”

             
Eric interrupted, recognizing the strategy, “But if we use it at the right time it’ll cause confusion, give us a chance to slip out during the chaos—I like it.”

             
Ryla looked around at them.  “I’ll press it when we make it to the ship, the compounds defenses will take some time to move into positions all over the world and while Blue Moon’s army is busy with them—”

             
“We make way,” Quey finished and she nodded.  “It is good,” he almost smiled.  Things were falling into place and this once impossible idea was beginning to come together and seem plausible.

             
“We should order some of them to positions that provide us the most cover,” Eric said, rubbing his chin.

             
“It doesn’t work that way,” Ryla told him.

             
“What way?”

             
“They don’t take orders.”

             
“They’re machines,” he began to argue.

             
“No, they aren’t.  Their composition is a blend of organic and synthetic compounds and alloys,” she informed him.

             
“What exactly does that mean?”

             
“It means they’re alive.”

             
“So are my men and they take orders.”

             
“You have to understand,” she told him, “this project was abandoned for a reason.”  Eric was watching her intently.  “We can activate and deactivate them.  Beyond that there’s not much about them we can control.”

             
Eric was nodding, but his eyes suggested he didn’t fully believe what he was being told.

             
“So you knew about these things?” Rachel asked.

             
Ryla nodded.  “I didn’t want to use them because they’re dangerous.”

             
“Aside from the floating things what else is down there?”

             
She shrugged, “Lots of stuff.”

             
“You kept developing it?” Natalie asked.

             
Ryla shook her head.  “As I said, they’re alive down there.  That includes the building.  It’s been on its own, with its own purpose for a while.”

             
“For the last six or so decades?”

             
She nodded.  “I kept to things like my guards and the doom ships.  Things that would defend the compound but not get out of hand.”

             
“Why not shut it down?” Natalie asked.

             
Ryla looked at her.  “Because they’re alive.”  When a moment passed and she saw they still didn’t understand she asked, “What would you do if you had their means and someone tried to ‘shut you down?’”  Then they understood.  “I don’t know why these projects were being developed,” she went on.  “I don’t know why the project that resulted in my existence was developed.  We may never know.”

             
“Its neither here nor there,” Quey said after the room stilled into a state of pondering for a split.  “Gotta keep our eye on what’s ahead.  Anything else,” he shook his head with a sigh.  “Is for another time.”

             
“Of course we’re overlooking the obvious,” Arnie piped up from the bar.  They looked over at him as he took a sip from his glass.  He wasn’t drunk, watered down as his drink was that would be a very long journey, but he was teetering on tipsy.  “Scientists are people too and sometimes people do shit just to see if they can.  To see how far they can go before something cracks and the whole thing goes to shit.  Don’t believe me?” he asked with a smile.  “Just look out the fucking window.”  Then he returned to his drink.

             
“We should get our things together,” Rachel said after a moment.  “Maybe take a nap.  Can’t imagine there’s going to be much time to rest once we’re on west continent.”

             
Quey was nodding.  “Good call,” he said.

 

 

             
Time was doing its trick again.  The one where it passed too slowly and then all of a sudden it was gone.  Quey felt as if he’d barely closed his eyes when a bell sounded and someone announced that the train had arrived at their stop.  He sat up with a grunt and a sigh and swung his legs off the side of the bed.

             
His bones were stiff.  His mind was soupy.  He didn’t want to get up.  Why couldn’t he just sleep a while longer, perhaps until all of this was over.

             
He stood, gathered his things, and got ready to get off the train.

             
Eric had a dozen men, three cars and a truck waiting for them at the train station.  The men collected bags from everyone and loaded them into the vehicles.  Ryla led Mechaganon and Bowserbot to the truck and helped load them in.  She thought for a split about what they would do if they had been built by the same means as the third basement projects but let it go.

             
From the train station they rolled to an industrialized area and a series of buildings tucked away down some long dirt side road.  As they approached the lookouts whistled and men and women began pouring from the buildings.  They grinned as the cars pulled to a stop between two buildings and eagerly greeted Eric Hoss as he stepped from the lead car.  Quey felt claustrophobic for a moment, as Eric looked over at him, grinning as he shook a man’s hand.  The tide had shifted.  This was Eric’s territory and these were his people.  From here on out he would have the advantage.

             
The buildings had probably been warehouses until Eric and his men converted them.  One of the buildings served as the living quarters, with each person getting their own room.  Quey and his crew were shown to a section of empty ones and told they were welcome to any they’d like.

             
“Eric would like you all to join him across the way in an hour.  He wants to go over everything one more time.”

             
Quey nodded and their escort left them with a slight bow.  It didn’t take long to get settled.  Everyone selected a room silently and placed their bags within.

             
“Something’s wrong,” Quey said quietly.

             
Rachel and Ryla looked up at him.  He was standing in the hall, his back leaning against the wall.  He looked so thin and powerless with his head bowed, eyes scanning the floor as his mind searched for a thought that would bring him peace.

             
“What?” Rachel asked.

             
He shook his head.  “Not sure.  But the hours about up.”  He pushed away from the wall and then turned and started toward the entrance.  The others started after him and he stopped.  “Natalie, maybe you should wait here with Amber and Leone.”

             
She was confused but agreed then watched as Quey, Rachel and Ryla continued on.

             
They entered a well-lit room and in the middle was a table with chairs around it and a holographic display on top.  The display showed a three-dimensional map of the general region they were presently in.  Eric was sitting on the far side, a woman he introduced as Carmen Tully to his left and a man named Ren Lemmy sitting to his right.

             
“When this operation kicks off we’ll be broken into three teams,” Eric informed them.  “I’ll lead one, Carmen and Ren will lead the others.”

             
“What about us?” Quey asked.

             
Eric smiled.

             
“Your people?” Carmen asked.  There was the weight of authority in her voice but that was forced.  She was a woman trying to prove something.  Quey could tell she was trying to prove it to herself as much as anyone.  His time on the street had granted him quite a sense for bravado.  “You make moonshine Mr. Von Zaul.  You have a school teacher, a computer programmer—pregnant, by the way—a robotics engineer and two children.  I think it’s best if you stay out of the way.”

             
“We also have the pilot,” Rachel pointed out rather brashly.

             
Carmen was going to answer but Eric hushed her with a gesture.  “That you do.  And don’t get my lieutenant wrong.”

             
Rachel smiled and nearly laughed.  “Your lieutenant?”

             
Eric glared at her.  “Yes, my lieutenant.”

             
She met his eyes only for a moment and realized the brother she’d known was lost in this new version of the man.  He was someone she almost didn’t recognize anymore.              He relaxed back in his chair.  “There was a time when I may have frowned on such structure but I see now that south continent failed because chaos alone cannot bring our enemies down.  Its good for getting people killed but in the end you need a bit of control.  To be honest it’s why I think it would be best if your people stayed near the back.”  Quey nodded slightly as he pondered this.  “I don’t want you to think I’m cutting you out completely but Carmen, brash as it may have been to say it as she did, had a point.  We’ve been training, working together as a unit for just this sort of occasion.  None of you are soldiers, but that doesn’t mean you’re not important.  To the contrary, actually, you’re invaluable, so much so we can’t afford to lose any of you.  You have the pilot, if he dies the plan fails.  You have the techies who know what the fuck to do once we get to the ship and get it off the ground.  If they fall, the plan fails.  Your school teacher, as I understand, has medical training, always an important person to have on a battle field.  And… I don’t know… when it’s over maybe we’ll have a slew of men who’ve worked up a mighty thirst,” he laughed.

             
Quey stared at him.  In the back of his mind he knew Eric was right.  He was useless in this. When it came to computers he was apt but not adept.  He couldn’t fly and he didn’t know much about patching a man up save pour alcohol on it and stick a bandage over.  Even when it came to shooting he was okay but Rachel was better with a rifle than he’d ever been.  He swallowed hard and thought that he should have been the one to go after Rain.  Reggie had been a soldier and a damn good one.  His skills had been wasted, dying just to get a bit of intel.  Quey could have handled that one.

BOOK: The Saffron Malformation
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