Exodus (The Exodus Trilogy) (14 page)

There was really nothing remarkable about Thomas Dunn, no obvious reason for anyone to consider him an asset, but somehow he’d been able to convince George Havelar and the rest of the Consortium during those last few weeks before the launches began, that they needed to bring him along. He had none of the obvious skills required
: he’d flunked out of college in his sophomore year, he had no military background, no medical skills, no craftsmanship or technical background, although he was handy enough, and of course he was not one of the lucky few who’d been able to buy their ticket off Earth. When asked about his role in the venture, he’d either shrug it away, or give some vague reference to colony management or personnel, but hardly anyone could actually say what his job would be once they reached the new world. His official title was junior executive, which of course meant absolutely nothing to anyone. Anyone except Havelar and a select few of the head figures on the Consortium, that was.

Before he approached Havelar’s people the first time,
Dunn had gotten his hands on a detailed description of the selection process out west, and he instantly knew that he wouldn’t stand a chance going that route. So he had devised a plan that involved quite a bit of risk, and also a sacrifice; but the gains outweighed the risks, so he went through with it. He had his doubts about the sacrifice, but he’d pushed them out of his mind. He had, with the assistance of some very talented people, been given an entirely new identity, and his old life had been completely erased. The old Thomas Dunn, or whatever his name might have been, existed only in his own private memories now. When Havelar, or anyone else for that matter, did a background check on him, they would find that he’d been involved in some shady business in Europe, involving an attempted overthrow of the mainly socialist government of Greece, and had barely escaped the authorities there, before settling for a while in Turkey, running a restaurant business. From time to time his name would appear in reports pertaining to several arms dealers and security service providers in the Middle East and Africa, although he never seemed to have a prominent role, and there seemed to be no active participation on his part. Then, during the civil war, his name would pop up in connection with Istanbul intelligence. Of course, that could never be completely verified, since all intelligence records had been burned before the fall of Istanbul, and those who could be connected to his name had fallen or disappeared during those last chaotic days of the regime. Thomas Dunn had then turned up at Miami International Airport six months later with a forged French passport and been detained briefly, until the authorities had finally bought into his explanation that he’d had to get a fake passport to get out of Turkey alive. He’d been charged, but released with a suspended sentence for carrying forged documents to gain access onto American soil.

When he’d contacted Havelar’s people, they had immediately checked up on him, once he offered information on a conspiracy against the Exodus
project. He’d told them that he’d been approached by an Englishman who had known ties to terrorist financiers, a man that only existed on paper, of course. This man had, according to his story, said he could get him into the selection process for the Exodus. His role then would be to send information out through an associate, who happened to work for the Energy Department. The reason he’d been approached, he was told, was his reputation for being a professional and utterly mercenary. And although he’d been involved in a lot of dirty business in the cause of good money, he was also a true patriot, so he’d considered going to the police with this information. But then it had occurred to him that there was another way to go about this. So he’d decided to go to the Consortium with the information, on one condition; that they got him on board the Exodus. In return he would smoke out the conspiracy, get to know the people who could be involved, and use his knowledge to infiltrate and subvert the conspiracy from within. After a few initial meetings with Consortium security officers, he’d been given an audience with the man himself, George Havelar. At that point he knew that they had bought into his story. But there were even bigger schemes at work, and with his seat on board the Exodus secured, his next move could be made.

He was late for his meeting with Havelar, but he saw no reason to rush it. His cool, unconcerned demeanor was all part of his persona, part of who Thomas Dunn was. So he walked with a slow pace through the corridors, while thinking how convenient the artificial gravity was, to a person like him, who had worried how the lack of gravity would affect his way of behaving; whether he would be able to keep up the whole charade. One less thing to worry about, he thought to himself. He came around a corner and almost bumped into a man he seemed to recognize.

“Ah, Kenneth Taylor, right? The shrink?” He winked.

The psychologist smiled back and replied.
“That’s right, ah, Mr. Dunn?” Thomas nodded quickly. So he’s noticed me, he thought.

“
So what are you up to, Mr. Dunn? One last glimpse of Earth? We should be able to see it by now,” Taylor continued. After the gravity assist by the sun they were now passing Earth one last time on their journey through the solar system.

“
Nah, just getting some exercise.” As Thomas heard his own words, he heard how lame they sounded. He was a fit young man; walking wasn’t what he’d consider exercise.

“
Well, that’s important, I guess. Or, it used to be, back when I was a space cadet.” Now that was interesting. The shrink had been a space cadet? He’d never have guessed. Maybe there was more to the old brain tinkerer than he let on. He’d have to check up on that.

“
I didn’t know you were a space cadet,” Thomas said. The psychologist just smiled.

“
Well, maybe I’ll tell you the story later, over a beer. Say, in 165 years perhaps?” They both laughed politely, and then carried on in opposite directions. Thomas continued toward the rear of the living quarters area, where the Consortium held a small compartment that Havelar normally had reserved to himself. As Dunn reached the door, he paused to gather his thoughts.

His cover story was a mix of details, a lot of them true, others convenient little half truths and lies that fit the mix and the purpose of his story. Of course, the picture he’d painted to Havelar and his goons wasn’t even remotely close to the truth about who Thomas Dunn really was.

He knew that the stakes were high, and that he, just as every other individual involved, was expendable. The greater good was the important thing, and as long as the main objective was preserved, that justified all sacrifices. After all, this was about the future of mankind, and what mankind would become. So, for the greater good, he had condemned a poor Energy Department employee to torture, using him as bait to gain the confidence of his enemies. That had further led to the death of a great man, as dedicated to the cause as he was. He had only met him once, but the man had impressed him with his vision, his long-term planning, and his ability to get results without the FBI suspecting anything. Thatcher, he recalled, had been one of the masterminds behind the plan, and so he must have known that his own fate would be sealed. Now even the senator was a wanted man. Dunn could only hope that he’d get away, although it didn’t seem likely. America was a police state these days, and to disappear from the eyes of the powerful FBI took considerable resources, lots of planning, and preferably help from the inside.

Others too would be sacrificed, and when he thought about that, he remembered a quote from Nietzsche
: “Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” Every time he thought of that quote, and he had done so frequently of late, he got a feeling he was balancing on a knife’s edge, and that the abyss was reaching up for him.

As he entered the
room, the question still remained: who was Thomas Dunn?

The days seemed endless, and most days were the same. There were no assignments, nothing to do, and nothing to
help pass the time. Most importantly, there was to be no contact with the outside world. John Rawlins had no idea how many there were, as they were divided into barracks, and there was no way to tell how many barracks there were. The guards kept a close eye on them, and John had seen what would happen if they suspected someone to be a troublemaker. There were a few guards who were obviously uncomfortable in their guard roles, and they would at times be all right, even sympathetic, but most had adapted to the role disturbingly well. As a former soldier, John felt ashamed at what these young troops could make themselves do. He had never thought he’d see young American men and women turn into something like this. He knew all too well that murder had become commonplace, and even lesser offenses would bring harsh punishment. Trying to escape was punishable by death. That had been mistaken for a bad joke at first, he’d heard from some who had been here longer than he. But, it soon became apparent, it was definitely no joke, and he’d seen a few of the executions himself. And then it was the mass punishments. If one person did something the guards deemed wrong, like trying to steal food or trying to get information from the guards, the entire barracks would be punished. The punishments would range from denial of food or having to stand in line out in the sun all day, to corporal punishment and executing such punishment on each other. In a few cases, the guards had chosen an entire barracks and made them march until one succumbed to fatigue. The poor fellow was then clubbed to death by other prisoners held at gunpoint. In all, detention had turned out to be a nightmare.

He had withdrawn from Selection when he
’d learned the truth about Devastator to be with his family, who hadn’t been lucky enough to be picked. He had said good-bye to Maria, Jeremiah, and the rest of his team, before taking his belongings with him and entering the bus leaving the compound. The bus was a regular shuttle that almost every day took those who were kicked out or voluntarily chose to throw in the towel, and he was told it would take him to the nearest town, which had a bus station. After twenty minutes, the bus had been stopped by a patrol of soldiers, and the driver had stepped out. It all seemed routine to him, but when the soldiers had ordered them to be quiet and sit still, as one of the soldiers took the wheel, he had felt a knot in his stomach. They had driven for three hours, when they saw the camp. There was barbed wire, a sign that read “minefield,” and armed troops everywhere. They had driven through the gate, and were brusquely gathered in a group by soldiers. One guy had spoken up against their captors, and had been slammed to the ground with rifle butts, so the rest of them had meekly continued through the processing area. The soldiers had taken all personal belongings, and outfitted them with some sort of pajamas. Their shoes had been taken from them, to make escape more difficult, he suspected.

“
What’s for dinner tonight?” Johanna Peters asked. She was the one in his barracks who’d been here the longest, more than ten years now, having failed one of the first tests, back in ‘74. John admired her. She always had a comment that would bring a smile, and she seemed determined not to be taken by despair.

“
Stew and stale bread, always stew and stale bread,” a sullen voice said from the shadows. It was Derek Hewitt, once a renowned heart surgeon, now a depressed and broken man, who would go catatonic for days. John worried that he would either starve himself to death or make a desperate run for it, despite the consequences.

They were sitting outside the barracks, with nothing to do, and nothing to talk about, when John noticed that the guard that usually brought them food and water was running late. The soldiers were never late, at least he couldn’t remember that ever happening, so he got up on his feet, and looked around the corner. It wasn’t just that they were hungry, although that played a part, as food was always scarce. It was more the fact that they had become so used to the routine, that anything out of the ordinary immediately got their attention.

“Hmm, that’s weird,” he said. “I can’t see any guards up in the tower.” He shaded his eyes with his hand, squinting against the harsh sunlight. Then he noticed one of the other detainees running across the open courtyard, shouting something he couldn’t make out. Johanna came over to him, and even Derek decided to get up.

“
What the hell is going on?” Johanna said.

“
I have no idea,” John answered absently. “Where are the guards?” They looked at each other, puzzlement plain on their faces, and slowly walked over to where the man had run. All they could see was other detainees, but no guards. Now that John thought about it, there had been a lot of noise about an hour ago, maybe less, engines, shouted commands, and the like. Then the camp had gone mostly quiet. The detainees had for the most part stayed indoors, because the sun was too baking hot to be outdoors, but someone would have noticed what had happened.

“
It seems they have all left,” he said quietly. He didn’t want to think about what that meant, but he knew he had to.

“
That can only mean one thing: it’s happening.” As far as John could tell, the Exodus had left Earth orbit years ago. They had received no information while in detention, and could only guess at what was happening on the outside, but there were always rumors, and sometimes the guards would let something slip.

“
Devastator is coming,” Derek said, his face contorting into a grimace, a change from his usual blank expression which normally would be a welcome one. John eyed him sideways, then walked over to one of the other detainees to ask if they knew anything. A minute later, he came back to the others, and confirmed what they had just discussed.

“
Eric from F Barracks says that the guards left a while ago, and left the gate open. He says he talked to a friendly guard who told him they were ordered up north in a hurry.”

“
Is it the rebellion they were talking about?” Johanna asked.

“
No, this is something else. He said the guard told him that last rebellion fizzled out as soon as the launches were complete, back in ‘79, but now there seems to be a new war going on up in Idaho and Montana. It’s supposed to have gone nuclear, and it’s spreading fast.”

“
Oh shit, that’s all we need now,” Johanna said. Derek, a few steps off, cringed at the news. He had family in Spokane, Washington, not far from the Idaho border. For a short while, they didn’t speak, until John decided to take charge.

“
Well, this changes things,” he finally said.

“
First of all, we need to get out of here. The stores won’t last the day, when the word gets out. We’re talking minutes before people will be pouring out of their barracks, and they will take everything they can get a hold of. It will be chaotic, to say the least.

“
Second, we need to decide where to go. We don’t know how destructive Devastator will be, but we know it will be bad. Where do we want to be when it comes?” He seemed to draw inward for a moment, then spoke again.

“
I left Selection to be with my family. For me the choice is simple, I’m going north. Boulder, Colorado is where I’ll be heading. You’re welcome to tag along if you want, as long as you remember that reaching them is my priority.”

“
I’m with you, John,” Derek said. He smiled, a sad smile that somehow seemed to convey acceptance or maybe it was resignation. “My wife lives in LA, but we were separated just before I left for Selection. She’s better off without me. I have no kids, and there’s no way I’ll be able to get all the way to my relatives up in Spokane before Devastator gets here. It’s not like getting a plane ticket these days, you know.” He shuffled his feet, looking down, then spread his hands and peered out toward the gate.

“
Like I said, I’m with you, John. I’ll help you find your family. Too many bad things have happened here, and I for one would like to see something good happen for a change.”

“
Amen to that,” Johanna followed. “I have no family left here. My sister Tori came with me to Selection, and I haven’t seen her since. She’s probably somewhere in space now. She was always the serious one, while I was the goofball that managed to be kicked out after the first test.” She laughed softly, while nodding to herself. “So I’m with you as well.” John smiled at the two of them, his closest friends since he’d been detained, with whom he’d shared so much.

“
All right. Then let’s hurry up, and get moving. We need to get some provisions, then get out of here as soon as possible.”

They hurried over to the guards’ quarters, where a few other detainees had already turned up and started looting. Then they spent a few minutes filling a couple of bags with canned and dried food, some clothes, a wristwatch, a map and compass,
and some other supplies they figured would be handy. All the while, more people came in, as the news spread, and as soon as their bags were filled, they hurried out through the gate.

They followed the road north the rest of the day, and when night fell, they camped near a small brook, just a trickle really, although normally it should be a wide river this time of year. The night was cooler than expected, but they had brought blankets, and they had a fire going, and all in all it felt good to be out here in the open. The feeling of freedom was something John had learned to appreciate early in life, and this reminded him of some of his hiking trips
during his youth. He had always been an outdoorsman, which had been an asset when he joined the army straight out of high school. Then, after six years, he’d traded his army fatigues for a civilian life, and gone to college to study engineering. That’s when he’d met Melissa. She’d been a bright young engineering student, and although she was several years younger than he, they’d hit it off at once, and when they both graduated, they got married in her local church in Charlottesville, Virginia. Melissa had stayed at home with the kids for a few years, and the job market had been tough when she decided to start working again. So they had moved to Boulder five years ago, when she got a job there. John had it a little easier, with more experience and several projects on his résumé, so he landed the first job he applied for. Now, as the last of the fire gradually died out, he looked up at the stars, and he felt a yearning to be with his family that felt like it would tear him apart.

Whatever it takes, he thought to himself, as he
vowed to be strong. He would take whatever came, and no matter what distance he had to walk, no matter the obstacles he would meet, he would never ever give up.

“
I’ll be with you again,” he whispered softly to avoid being overheard by the others. “Whatever it takes.”