Broken (23 page)

"Yeah," he admitted.

"What did you see?"

"Lots of things. So many things." He heaved a shuddering sigh. "There’s… there’s a man waiting for me there, I think. A tall, thin man. I think he’s going to kill me."

Monica frowned at him. "Then why are you going?"

Michael looked away. "I have to."

"Does it have something to do with your grandfather?"

"So you’re the prescient now?" Michael snapped.

She smiled tolerantly. "I just guessed. But am I right? Is it because of him?"

"Joe wasn’t my grandfather. He took me in when my parents died."

"Why?"

"Because." His worst suspicions came to the surface. "Because I had to do this, I think. He wanted to get me ready. He had seen Ian coming… for years. He was like me, but stronger. He could see all kinds of things. He knew I’d need him. He knew I’d go find Ian someday if he took care of me…"

"So, what, then? He trained you?"

"Not exactly. I mean, he taught me what my powers were. But I think he thought he’d be around to help me get Ian, so he didn’t tell me a lot of things I could have used. But…"

Monica waited patiently, sympathy etched into her face.

"He died. He died before he thought he would. So I had to go on alone. He didn’t see it coming." Michael shook his head.

* * *

Joe lay on his bed in their cramped apartment, struggling to breathe. He had refused to go to the hospital. "All my futures are black now," he had said. "No point in delaying."

"You said you wouldn’t go so soon," Michael said, fighting back his tears.

"I know. But sometimes… sometimes the craziest things happen instead of the things you expect. That’s what makes this so hard."

"What will I do?" Michael asked.

"Go on. You could find that boy. You’ve seen him."

Michael nodded, sniffling. "Yes."

"You don’t have to do it. You know that."

"I know."

"But it’s important. We can’t fix any of what’s happening now…" He gestured to the screen. The election. Damian Peltan was winning. Black Bands were celebrating. The UNP was defeated. Darkness was spreading.

 
"The people have made a very bad choice," Joe said, "And they’ll pay for it. But that boy… he’s hope, before we have any right to hope. He’s an early way out. Does that make sense?"
Michael nodded. "I know."

"But it’s your choice. It’s dangerous. If they catch you... if they get their hands on him, he'll be a monster. It'll make things so much worse. And it’s such a slim hope anyway…"

"I’ll do it," Michael said.

Joe grunted, satisfied. "I know you will."

They sat together in silence for a few moments. Then:

"Joe," Michael said. "Why did you take me in? Was it about that boy? What about my parents? Did you even know them? Was it…?" He couldn’t ask the rest.

But Joe had fallen asleep. The next time he woke, Michael couldn’t bring himself to ask any of it.

* * *

"I just can’t believe it’s all gone," Monica was saying. "Back there. My home and my family. I keep thinking, won’t Andrew think this is strange when I tell him about it, but I won’t… I won’t tell him. Because he’s dead. Jane is dead. Shawn… Fred. Even Lyddie. I just can’t believe it."

"Janeane isn’t dead," Michael said.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do."

She looked at him. "Prophecy? You see that?"

He shook his head. "Janeane is special. I think I’d know if she died."

* * *

An hour later, they were flying over the wide Pacific, and everyone was starting to get tense, almost itchy.

"The government will be able to see us coming," fretted Michael. "We’re going to be shot down before we even get close."

"We’ve got some stealth tech on this thing," Parker said.

"On a hopper you stole from a hospital," said Michael. "Right."

Wayne rolled his eyes. "We put the stealth tech on
after
, dick-nar. What did you think? Stealth ambulance?" He sniggered. "That’d be great."

"They’ll probably think we’re a sensor blip or something," Parker said. He seemed to be a lot more sober and technical-minded than the others. "At least, that’s what I’m hoping. There’s a lot of air traffic around Terra City. If we stay out of restricted zones, we might be okay."

"That’s the spirit," grumbled Kent.

"I didn’t think of restricted zones," Michael admitted. "We might have to land somewhere farther away."

"That’s okay," Wayne grinned. "We’re up for some walking."

Michael went back to the map. He glimpsed Broken looking out a window at the lights of South Africa twinkling in the distance. They’d be crossing the terminator into day, soon.

 "Hey," he said, walking over to her. "How are you doing?"

 "Okay," she replied. "I’ve never left North America. I wonder if Australia is really different?"

"I don’t know," Michael said. "Probably."

He looked out the window. He could see the waters streaming by below. "Nice view."

"What’s going to happen to Ian if we don’t get him back?" Broken asked.

"They’re not going to hurt him or anything. They’ll just raise him to be… well, just like them. Maybe worse. That’s what I’ve seen." He didn’t mention the bloody coup he’d witnessed, nor did he mention the bodies in the street, the executions, the savagery of Ian's rule… "They won’t treat him badly. But it would be bad for humanity, and for the other races like the Rätons, too."

 "And if we save him and take him to Valen, he’ll be good for humanity?"
 "Right. I’ve seen him leading a rebellion against Peltan, then bringing all three races together in peace. Rätons, Rogarians, and us, one nation. It’s amazing." Michael smiled. He liked those visions. He didn’t see them much anymore.

"It sounds nice. Will we see it?"

He shook his head. "I won’t. You might be a little old lady. It won’t happen for a long time."

"Oh." She frowned. "So we might never know if it would really happen or not."

"That’s the problem with the future," he said. "You never know how it’s going to turn out unless you live long enough to get there. It’s all a gamble. That doesn’t stop anyone, though. We’re always trying to have an impact on the future. Isn’t that why people have kids, or teach, or build something, or save money? Except that we don’t know whether it will happen or not. The planet could explode the next day; no one would know. It’s crazy."

"Maybe—" she started.

"What?"

"Maybe we have faith in the future. That it will happen and it will be better than today. Hope. Maybe that’s why."

"Yeah. Something like that." Michael said, smiling. "You’ve been talkative lately. I like that."

 "I don’t know why. I never was before. It’s strange."

"Does it matter?" he asked. "Remembering your name?"

 She nodded happily. "To me it does. It’s like I’m more alive."

 They sat together for a few more minutes, enjoying each other's companionship. There was no need to speak, not now. Then Michael stood, sighing. "I need to go look at the map."

She nodded and went back to looking out the window.  Strange. For the first time in forever, she was looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.

Life.
They picked up speed over the ocean, racing the sun towards Australia.

[CHAPTER 23]

T
hey saw a few other bulky hoppers, tiny, fast zippers, ancient planes, and long, looming liners as they streaked towards Australia’s east coast, but the real traffic picked up as soon as they crossed over the shoreline.

"There must be hundreds of ships in the sky," Parker said. "This is amazing. It never gets this busy over New York." Below, a vast metropolis spread from the sea inland, towards the mountains.

"Big business and government are all in Australia," Michael explained. "Lots of people here with important stuff to do."

"I can’t
wait
to blow some of ‘em up," growled Wayne, eyes afire. "Bam!" He giggled. "Bam, bam, bam! Yeah!"

 They cleared the mountains, and gradually the cultivated lands gave way to flat, featureless desert. They were getting close—Terra City lay on land reclaimed from the Outback.

"Try to find a public lot outside the city," Michael told Parker. "They shouldn’t give us too much trouble."

"Yeah, maybe. But we should leave most of our weapons here."

"What!" exclaimed Wayne. "No! That’s crap!" He grabbed for his gun.

"Just for appearance’s sake!" Parker said quickly, backing off. "We’re going to be walking through the suburbs! We can bring pistols, grenades, subtle stuff, stuff we can hide—but no rifles. Please don’t shoot that in here. You'll have plenty of time to do it later."

"Shit," Wayne said, slumping down in his chair.

They were getting closer to Terra City. Expressways and massive aqueducts crisscrossed the desert; green fields began to dominate the landscape. It had been scrubland and dry riverbed fifty years before; then Räton agricultural technology and shifting weather patterns had made the desert bloom. Now Australia was the world’s breadbasket, while the Mississippi Valley dried and withered on the vine.

The hopper’s traffic-adjustment sensors and computers were working overtime trying to keep them out of the way of all the other incoming and outgoing sky traffic. "Attention!" an Australian-accented voice said. "Obey all traffic laws! Reduce speed to 200kph when approaching Terra City!"

"Just a broadcast traffic signal," Parker said, breathing a sigh of relief. He adjusted the speed of the hopper, while noticing that most of the other air traffic had ignored the warning.

"Try not to stick out," Michael said.

Parker nodded. "Man, these other airs look great, don’t they? All shiny and new. I wonder what
that
cost?" He pointed to a brilliantly colored, sleek new zinger.

"Bet I could steal it," Kent bragged.

"Do us a favor and
don’t
try," Parker said. "Hey, we’re over the suburbs."

"Good. Start looking for a place to land," Michael said.

 Parker maneuvered down into the lower, more local traffic levels. "Where are we?" he asked. "I’m lost." Acre after acre of newly built suburban landscape stretched out below. The houses were all  large, with lots of land.

"Maybe not here," suggested Michael. "Somewhere more public."

Wayne tried to read the map. "Shit, I have no clue where we are." Michael looked at his screen. They had made it nearer to the ConFedMil facility than he’d dared to hope. Only a dozen miles or so.

He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the screen.

—The thin man stood at the entrance. "I’ve been waiting for you," he said. The men around him opened fire.

"Set down anywhere near here," he instructed, pushing the vision away. He glanced up at the streams of air traffic heading for Terra City, and briefly wondered about the vast, modern city. He’d only ever seen it on screens, and a part of him wanted to explore it. All the monuments, and the massive government house. He couldn’t afford to be a tourist, though.

 Parker set the aircraft down in a grassy public hopper lot on the edge of a sprawling commercial center. Their hopper was the oldest and ugliest in the lot.

"Camouflage!" Kent shouted, looking around. "Awesome."

"It’ll do," agreed Banner, but he didn’t sound so sure. Wayne and Parker said nothing, although Parker looked nervous.

"Okay," said Michael. "Should we try to find transportation, or walk?"

"You know how to get there?" Kent asked.

Michael shrugged. "North. That’s what I remember. I think there’s only one road north."

"Then we either take the bus or ask a cop for directions. Which would you rather?"

Good point. "All right," he said. "Everybody out."

* * *

The first thing that struck them was the intense heat. Changes in weather patterns and a massive aqueduct system engineered to bring water to what was once desert hadn’t changed the fact that the South Australian summer was brutally hot and dry. 

"I need a drink," griped Wayne. "And not the fun kind."

"I think we’re going to need to save our water," Michael said. He looked around at the other people coming and going from the lot. No one was really looking at them, but a lot of them wore Reformist pins on their lapels. A few wore the black-and-white armbands of the Black Bands Reserve.