Perception Fault (13 page)

Josiah stood at the head of the table, holding his wineglass as if he was about to salute an invisible honoree. “Over the years, we have attracted hundreds of like-minded individuals, people who wished to live their lives free of tyranny, to join in common cause of building a city out of the ashes of what had come before. Where every man, woman and child would be free to pursue a life of their own, not beholden to or under the thumb of some power-mad overlord. It is true, there are things that the city requires from all who dwell in it if it is to not only survive, but prosper. That’s one thing that everyone who comes here must understand before they settle here, that being a citizen of this city carries weight, the weight of responsibility, to your neighbors, to your neighborhood, to your city itself. For those who accept and work within that requirement, the Free City of Denver is the result, one that everyone who participates in, benefits from.”

As Josiah spoke, Ryan’s expression changed from
neutral to interested to a puzzled frown. Previously he had only heard a certain, select group of people talk like this, and they usually wore white coats when they did. Other than his tendency toward long-winded oratory, Josiah didn’t have any of the other hallmarks of a scientist, predark or otherwise. So where had he gotten the knowledge he was showing off at the moment?

Before anyone could reply, the silence was shattered by the sound of automatic rifle fire in the distance. Doc cocked an ear to listen, a sly smile creeping over his face. “You, good sir, are a magnificent orator. I now understand much of how you rose to your present position. You almost had me convinced—except for the barking of Tellen’s wolves at your wall.”

Josiah’s expression curdled at the mention of his enemy. “That so-called freedom fighter is nothing more than a common thug who has brought together other low-minded individuals to rally under his cause, attempting to destroy everything I have worked to build here.”

The tread of shoes on the polished wooden floor caught everyone’s attention, and Josiah reverted from brooding to genial in an instant. Ryan caught the venomous look Rachel shot at Doc, who had already seemed to forget the current topic of conversation, and was busy munching on a last bite of salad before his plate was removed.

“And, to answer one of your companion’s points, this food is not just for the ‘men in charge.’” Josiah pointed out as the new plates were deposited in front of each person. “Right now hundreds of people across the city are enjoying meals similar to what we are about to dine on right now.”

As if on cue, the servers whisked away the covers
to reveal thick slices of pink meat darkening to brown on the edges, swimming in gravy, flanked by a heap of mashed potatoes on the left side, and a neatly stacked pile of steaming green beans on the right.

“The finest buffalo prime rib you will ever have. Grass-fed on the plains outside the city and butchered at the peak of flavor. Go on, have a taste.”

Although Ryan’s appetite had been blunted by the turn the conversation had taken, he cut off a piece—the knife sliding through the meat like it was butter—and lifted a forkful to his mouth. The taste was, quite simply, unbelievable. The meat was lean, yet tender and rich nonetheless, almost melting in his mouth. Ryan chewed a few times, almost as an afterthought than due to any real need, and swallowed, the taste almost overwhelming his taste buds.

Josiah watched him finish the bite before taking any of his own. “Well?”

“It’s damn good.” Almost of their own volition, Ryan’s hands moved to cut off more. Around him, the rest of the table was enjoying their main course, as well, from Jak sawing off huge chunks and stuffing them in his mouth, to Krysty, J.B. and Mildred enjoying their own meals with various degrees of pleasure. True to Josiah’s word, it was a dish to be savored, with the conversation falling by the wayside in favor of relishing every last succulent morsel.

Scraping his plate clean, Ryan drained his wineglass and leaned back in his chair, feeling truly full for the first time in a long while, and what was more, enjoying it, as well. The servers brought out a selection of hand-cranked ice creams for dessert; mint, lemon sherbet, flavored with artificial flavoring, and even vanilla, made with rare, hoarded beans. There was also
chicory coffee, port and a selection of various whiskeys for those so inclined. Krysty exchanged a glance with Ryan, nodding toward Doc as if to ask if he should indulge any more. Ryan shrugged, leaning over to whisper, “After a meal that big, a shot of whiskey should knock the old man right off his chair.”

Sure enough, the rich food and wine were already conspiring to lull Doc into a drowse, his head drooping down to his chest as he labored in vain to stay awake. Ryan caught Josiah watching him with a small smile. “You attract the most interesting people to follow you, Ryan Cawdor.”

Something in the other man’s tone made Ryan’s natural wariness stir under the torpor-inducing meal. “No more than the people who come to live here, I’d guess.”

Josiah leaned forward, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps, but then again, most of them don’t know about places like Cheyenne Mountain.”

The other man’s words put Ryan on full alert, but his face betrayed nothing as he stared back at Josiah. He shifted in his chair, seeming to turn slightly toward the other man as if to hear him better, but in reality he was simply raising his hip so that his blaster was more readily accessible.

Only Krysty seemed to notice the dangerous direction the conversation was heading. J.B. and Mildred were occupied in keeping Doc from falling off his chair, and Jak already seemed inclined to sleep off the effects of the feast. Ryan kept his voice neutral as he replied, “Your major has better hearing than I expected.”

“Major Kelor is a valued member of my sec force, and as such reports things he thinks may be of interest to me. Your man’s comment this afternoon was one of those things.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that I would hazard a guess that the good doctor may know of other things—things that could greatly help our community continue to thrive.”

“What, you want him to stay here and teach or something?”

Josiah waved off the question with a flick of his hand. “Nothing so mundane. As he so elegantly put it, we are beset by Tellen’s army. The wall stops them for now, but he’s determined, and I’m concerned that he’ll
find a way in sooner rather than later. Make no mistake, I mean to stop him, but a concerted attack against his headquarters would leave the city open to a counter-strike should we fail. Tellen is a devious enemy, willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals.”

Ryan frowned. “You want us to chill him?”

Josiah shook his head. “I wouldn’t ask that of you. I would have many volunteers of my own ready in an instant if I thought they could succeed at the task. No, what I’d request from you requires more than just simple skill with a blaster.” He leaned back in his chair, regarding Ryan with a thoughtful expression. “Have you ever heard of Denver International Airport?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Mirroring his host’s movements, Ryan also leaned back in his chair, figuring he might as well go along with this for the moment. “What is it?”

“Before skydark, the airport was built to be a major transportation hub for this half of what was then called the United States of America. It was constructed roughly twenty-five miles away from the city. Ever since, rumors have always circulated saying that far more earth was excavated than necessary to build an airport. That the government built a secret base under the structure to carry out some of their most top-secret experiments.”

Josiah paused for a moment, as if letting the information he was imparting sink in. Ryan remained stone silent, unresponsive in any way. Another maxim of the Trader’s surfaced in his memory: he who speaks first, loses. He simply remained still, staring at Josiah, waiting for the other man to continue. “Lately, some of our citizens have seen strange lights coming from that area, and had cattle either missing or killed in very strange
ways. They’ve also reported strange sounds coming from the area, as well as seeing unusual wags there.”

Josiah leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. “If even half of what is rumored to be there is true, then the place could hold the key to stopping Tellen once and for all. And if there’s someone trying to gain access, you would be in a position to evaluate them as a possible threat to the city.”

Ryan drew in breath to reply, but Krysty beat him to it. “You want us to go out there because we’re experienced and expendable.”

The elder Carrington shook his head. “No, but I don’t blame you for thinking that. As much as I would like to, I can’t commit even the small force necessary to investigate, as we need every available man to repel Tellen’s army. Also, I know he’s watching us, constantly evaluating, probing for a weakness. The attack today was his largest to date, but it won’t be his last. If he sees a unit from the city heading in that direction, he’ll follow with a larger force to find out what they’re doing, capture them and take the base for himself. My only ace in the hole is that he doesn’t know I’ve found out about this yet. I have to move on it before word leaks out, and he begins searching for it himself.”

Ryan stretched his arms up, then interlaced his fingers behind his head. “If it even exists.”

“Look, you’re the only ones I can ask to do this. You’ve proved yourselves more than capable. Hell, you brought my daughter back through hundreds of Tellen’s men—you drove through practically his entire bastard army! If you could go and check out the place, see if the rumors are even close to true, then I could follow up on it, or perhaps even negotiate with whoever may be
inside to create an alliance. I just need someone to open that door, and I think that someone is you.”

Ryan poured the last of the wine into his glass as he thought about the situation. Normally, he’d dismiss the idea out of hand. It was bad enough that he knew redoubts existed in the first place, but self-contained whitecoat labs were something else entirely. Who knew what the crazy, inbred fuckers living in their artificial environments had been laboring on for the past century or so? Bioplague, sec robots, strange weapons capable of dealing death in an incredible variety of ways. They had come close to unleashing these things on the world a number of times before. He wasn’t really interested in possibly unlocking another set of crackpots to spill their new poisons into the already overloaded Deathlands.

He glanced around the room, noticing that J.B. and Mildred had stopped their attempts at keeping Doc upright, and were now listening to the conversation, as well. Jak appeared asleep at the far end, but Ryan would have bet his blaster the albino teen was awake and listening to every word.

“Say we agreed to this, and, just for the sake of argument, let’s say there actually is something down there. What would stop me from setting myself up first and cutting you out of the deal altogether?”

“Nothing at all, except I don’t believe you would do that. When you had my daughter in your grasp, your first response was to return her here, when you could have played both Tellen and myself against each other and gotten whatever you wanted from either side.”

Ryan considering pointing out that he hadn’t had the slightest clue as to who she was when he’d found her, but decided not to bother. A quick glance across the table revealed that Rachel had a pretty good idea what
he was thinking, and even now, she was probably wondering which way he was going to go. Turning back to her father, he said, “Go on.”

“The fact that you didn’t means you’re not like those others out there.” Josiah waved his hand in the general direction of the world outside the room they were sitting in. “In spite what you told Major Kelor, I don’t believe you and your group are a band of wandering traders. Nor are you simpleminded raiders or bandits. In fact, while I’m not exactly sure who you are or what you’re looking for—although I have a pretty good idea—I think if you agreed to do this, you would do it to the best of your ability. In return, I would be happy to offer you the first pick of any tech, wags or supplies found there.”

Ryan pushed his chair back. “So all of this, the hotel, the dinner—it was all the prelude to your request?”

“Getting us in the mood to hear your proposal, so to speak.” Mildred’s voice was calm and quiet, an indication that the storm building behind her deep brown eyes was about to break.

Josiah held up his hands to placate them. “No, and yes. The hotel and this meal were the beginning of whatever meager thanks I could offer all of you for saving my daughter’s life. If you’d like, I would be happy to outfit you all with whatever supplies and blasters you need, as well as a couple of gassed and ready vehicles to drive yourselves wherever you care to go, with my grateful thanks, and an open invite to return any time you’re in the area.”

Ryan cocked an eyebrow while he pretended to consider the idea. It certainly would help them get back to the redoubt in style. “You said you had a pretty good idea of who I am. Enlighten me.”

Josiah leaned forward, speaking to Ryan as if they were the only two people in the room. “I think you are a cold-blooded chiller, but you only take life when it’s necessary, culling the worst of the population. I think you’re looking for something even you can’t define right now, but you think it’s out there somewhere, perhaps over the next horizon, and you’re gonna keep looking for it until you find it.”

Ryan blinked. He hadn’t met a man who could size up another person like that since his time with the Trader. It was a bit unnerving, actually. Carrington had come close, but he wasn’t about to give the man the satisfaction of knowing how accurate he’d been. “Still waters run deep. Other than getting lucky outside the wall, I think you’re reading a bit too much into me.”

“Am I, Cawdor?” Josiah pushed his chair back from the table and rose. “I know I can’t order or attempt to force you to do this. I can only ask. I do want to leave you with one thought as you decide.”

His blue steel gaze pinned everyone to his or her chair. “You’ve all had a chance to see what we’ve created here—the beginnings of a way out of the darkness. I can’t speak for the rest of you, but I, for one, don’t wish to go back to the savagery that was my formative years. I was educated, but I saw some dark times in my youth. You can choose to do this for whatever reason you wish—the possible tech you may find, the time you’ve spent here, helping to continue our way of life in whatever small way you can, whatever your reason may be. But I hope that you choose to undertake this because, like me, you don’t want to see the ember of civilization extinguished before it has a chance to burst into flame.”

Josiah stepped away from the table and pushed his
chair in. “Take the rest of the evening to think about it. We can talk more in the morning over breakfast. It’s been a pleasure meeting you all, and I look forward to continuing our discussion tomorrow morning. Sergeant Caddeus will escort you back to the hotel. Until the morning, then. Rachel?”

Carrington’s daughter rose and nodded to everyone, as well. “Thank you all for coming. It has been a most interesting evening.”

The father and daughter strode out of the dining room, leaving Ryan and the others staring after them, the silence broken only by the explosive snort of Doc’s snoring.

J.B. was the first to speak. “Certainly know how to make an exit.”

“Yeah, and how to leave an impression, too.” Mildred frowned. “He gives a very pretty speech, when it comes down to it. What did you make of all that, Ryan?”

“All I make of it at the moment is that we should follow their example and head back to the hotel. Don’t know about you all, but after that meal, not to mention all the fireblasted talking, the night air’d do me some good. No discussion till we’re back in our rooms.” Ryan got up and headed for the front door, the others falling in behind him once they’d awakened Doc, who had been slouching in his chair, his finery only slightly blemished by a scattering of crumbs.

Outside, they were met by Sergeant Caddeus, who waved into the dusk to bring up another mil wag. Everyone climbed aboard, and they were driven back to the hotel through the quiet city streets. The staccato sounds of blasterfire were still coming from the wall, but more sporadically now. “Tellen’s men coming back?” Ryan asked.

The sergeant shook his head once, his eyes never leaving the road. “Nope. Boys on the wall’re stickie huntin’.”

“How’s that work?”

“Well, stickies love fire, so we been setting up little flashpots of gas and flammable materials and slingin’ them over the wall. They come out to watch the flames—pop! Dead stickies.”

“Doesn’t that make it hard for your night snipers?” J.B. asked.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody’s shootin’ anything without light. We tried keeping men in the dark, like they did long ago, but it messes with their heads, so we do this instead. Besides, you can’t pull it off more than twice in a night before they get wise to it. But a few days later, it’s like they forget, and you can do the same thing again. It’s kinda led to a saying ’round here—you can’t train a stickie.”

Everyone chuckled at the joke, Ryan and J.B. exchanging glances. The Armorer had verified several things with his seemingly innocuous question—like the fact that Tellen’s forces had somehow gotten their hands on better equipment than Carrington’s men.

Mildred piped up. “How long’s that been going on?”

“About a month or so, ever since that nest popped up in the ruins of the refinery.”

“Any idea where they came from?” J.B. asked.

“Who the hell knows where those freakish bastards come from? As long as we keep popping them off, it shouldn’t be long now before the nest dies out.”

“How many do you get in a night?” Ryan asked.

“Depends. Used to be a half dozen easy, but now
we’re lucky to get two or three. I figure that means there ain’t as many of them to come out now.”

Mebbe—else they’re wising up to your little trap, Ryan thought, but kept that notion to himself.

The companions fell silent until they reached the hotel, the wag passing through the quiet streets without interference. Occasionally, they saw another vehicle go by, but even at this hour, there were hardly any pedestrians out. Caddeus brought the wag to a stop outside the hotel’s front door. “End of the line, ladies and gentlemen.”

Ryan and the rest of his group filed out. “Thanks for the ride, Sergeant.”

Caddeus smiled, revealing surprisingly white teeth. “My pleasure—nice to get an easy duty night for a change. You folks have a good evening.” With that, he drove away in a cloud of blue-black exhaust.

Everyone trooped into the lobby, which was also much quieter than it had been earlier in the evening. Carter seemed to have finally gone off duty, since a young woman, who greeted them with a smile and a nod, was now behind the desk. Ryan noticed the bar was also dark and silent. “Apparently, they do their drinking early in Denver.”

“There are a variety of other places open if you care for more entertainment this evening, sir,” the desk clerk said.

“Not tonight, thanks.” They all headed for the elevator, a bleary-eyed Doc leaning against J.B., mumbling something incoherent as they waited for the doors.