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Speaker 1: Traffic Safety Administration. In the ad Council, Chapter twenty one.
Speaker 1: Sasha Alexander hadn't seen it coming. He hadn't expected her
Speaker 1: at all. The sound of his furious scream was the
Speaker 1: most beautiful thing Sasha had ever heard. She hit him
Speaker 1: again and again, and he fell back and then down
Speaker 1: to the ground. Blood streamed from his nose in a
Speaker 1: gash above his brow. His eyes looked unfocused, his lip
Speaker 1: was split. He tried to scream or cry out or
Speaker 1: beg her, but she didn't give him the time to
Speaker 1: say one damn word. Instead, she hit him again and
Speaker 1: again and again. She didn't make the conscious choice to
Speaker 1: dive down on top of him, and in fact, Sasha
Speaker 1: was rather surprised to find herself straddling the prone, broken
Speaker 1: boy soldier. But once she was there, she kept hitting
Speaker 1: him until she felt his skull give way and the
Speaker 1: helmet had something soft, squishy and hot that lay beyond.
Speaker 1: She sat back and for what seemed like a year,
Speaker 1: just stared at the helmet and bedded in Alexander's ruined face.
Speaker 1: Blood pulsed out from around the edges where it met
Speaker 1: the skin. The way the blood bubbled up looked just
Speaker 1: a bit like the water and one of the fountains
Speaker 1: outside the hospital her mother ran. For some reason, that
Speaker 1: similarity did more to raise her hackles than the act
Speaker 1: of killing her. Ears still rang, and so it was
Speaker 1: easy to lose herself. In contemplation of Alexander's body. Her
Speaker 1: mind turned to the Book of John and the words
Speaker 1: of her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Do not be
Speaker 1: like Kine who belonged to the evil One and murdered
Speaker 1: his brother? And why did he murder him? Because his
Speaker 1: own actions were evil and his brothers were righteous? Had
Speaker 1: Alexander's actions truly been righteous? Sasha knew if she searched
Speaker 1: the Bible she could find scriptural justifications for everything Alexander
Speaker 1: had done. That's why she'd come here in the first place,
Speaker 1: wasn't it The heavenly Kingdom was finally going back to
Speaker 1: the letter of the Bible, the word of God. Only
Speaker 1: now that she had seen what that looked like, Sasha
Speaker 1: had found she could not abide it. Am I still
Speaker 1: a Christian? She couldn't say. Her faith had been such
Speaker 1: a part of her identity. It had been everything, And
Speaker 1: now it felt like a Hi. What am I if
Speaker 1: not a righteous servant of the Lord? Where do I
Speaker 1: go from? Here? Eisash little problem? Here? Roland's voice jerked
Speaker 1: her out of her contemplation. She looked back at the man,
Speaker 1: and her mind recoiled in terror. His skin had been
Speaker 1: shredded by gunfire. It hung in pale tatters down his
Speaker 1: face and arms. His clothing had largely been shot away,
Speaker 1: and The rags that remained were so drenched in blood
Speaker 1: that they clung to him. He looked almost as if
Speaker 1: he was clad in a single giant scab. One of
Speaker 1: his eyes was unfocused, dislocated, and something had happened to
Speaker 1: his left arm. It looked as if an enormous straight
Speaker 1: razor had burst out of the forearm. Where did you
Speaker 1: get that? She asked. Sasha was surprised and a bit
Speaker 1: disturbed by her curiosity. Roland seemed surprised too this. He
Speaker 1: looked at the blade. I really no, had sort of
Speaker 1: forgotten it was in there. He lifted his arm and
Speaker 1: its blood soaked blade up and looked at it like
Speaker 1: a small child opening a prized gift on Christmas morning.
Speaker 1: Then he flicked his arm down towards the ground, and
Speaker 1: the blade slid back into the meat of his forearm
Speaker 1: with a wet thwack look. He said, we got more
Speaker 1: present ship to deal with right now. You're all those sirens.
Speaker 1: She actually couldn't. Her hearing had begun to recover from
Speaker 1: the gunfight, but Roland was just barely audible allowed tonight,
Speaker 1: as hums still rang through her ears. Sasha was pretty
Speaker 1: sure she'd suffered permanent damage. I can't hear much right now,
Speaker 1: she said, the gun of fire, you know. Oh, he frowned.
Speaker 1: I forgot that can happen to you folks. Well, uh,
Speaker 1: there's a shipload of cops or martyrs or militia whatever.
Speaker 1: A bunch of them are coming, probably two or three hundred.
Speaker 1: They got tanks and drones and ship. God Almighty, Sasha
Speaker 1: felt fear rise up in her heart again. Yeah, listen,
Speaker 1: God's not really the dude to worry about right now.
Speaker 1: Manny's all fucked up. I stopped his bleeding, but you're
Speaker 1: gonna need to get him out of here. Manny, she'd
Speaker 1: forgotten all about him. Sasha realized with a start that
Speaker 1: she'd blotted the rest of the room from her mind.
Speaker 1: She looked around and took it all in. Manny was
Speaker 1: still lying where she'd left him, nursing a gunshot wound
Speaker 1: to the belly. He was pale, sweaty, and he looked
Speaker 1: to be in terrible pain. But he was conscious and alive.
Speaker 1: That was more than she could say for Marigold. The
Speaker 1: poor woman had been shredded by shotgun fire. Sasha couldn't
Speaker 1: bring herself to look too closely at the shattered steaming remains,
Speaker 1: but Marigold's friends were alive. The young man Rick was
Speaker 1: unconscious and drenched in blood, but most of that blood
Speaker 1: didn't seem to be his own. His head was in
Speaker 1: Tullie's lap. She'd been wounded in the buttocks and bled
Speaker 1: quite a lot, but the wounds seemed to have clotted.
Speaker 1: There were tears and a haunted, pained look in her eyes.
Speaker 1: Oh my god, Sasha said, once her mind started to
Speaker 1: process the visual stimuli. Lord in Heaven, No, no, no, no,
Speaker 1: that poor woman, that unborn child. How could this happen?
Speaker 1: How could this be? Sasha? Roland shouted, This is a
Speaker 1: very bad time for you to have emotions. Try killing
Speaker 1: those for a while. How just think about the fact
Speaker 1: that every one but me will die if he don't
Speaker 1: get your ship together? And then get your ship together.
Speaker 1: Her initial action was anger and frustration. Is he that
Speaker 1: disconnected from humanity? Does he think people can just turn
Speaker 1: their empathy off? Off? But then she stopped herself, listened
Speaker 1: to him, and tried. She imagined herself putting on a
Speaker 1: heavy jacket, something that blocked out pain and horror rather
Speaker 1: than the cold. It worked, Okay, she said, what do
Speaker 1: I need? To do. You need to take Monny and uh,
Speaker 1: what's her name and what's his face? Touli and Rick right,
Speaker 1: take the non dead people, run down and out the
Speaker 1: back door and find me a car. Then you need
Speaker 1: to a car. He stopped sifting through the dead men's
Speaker 1: firearms to roll his eyes at her. Yes, a car.
Speaker 1: I'm not going to carry all you lame bloods out
Speaker 1: of here on my fucking shoulders. Were need a getaway vehicle.
Speaker 1: I can't drive, she said. All the cars in the
Speaker 1: am fete are autonomous. He shrugged, you'll figure it out.
Speaker 1: Many moans just then, almost as if it was in
Speaker 1: response to Roland's suggestion. Sasha knew it was more likely
Speaker 1: she'd just been too focused on the big post human
Speaker 1: to notice Manny's pained moans the whole time. Can he drive?
Speaker 1: Sasha asked, sure, Roland said, with sudden cheer, He's only
Speaker 1: lost what two quarts of blood? I gave him a
Speaker 1: little mine. I'm sure be right his rain soon. Manny
Speaker 1: moaned again, handed his blood soaked belly. He didn't appear
Speaker 1: to be bleeding still, but he was pale, and his
Speaker 1: face showed agony, too obvious to ignore, Sasha doubted he'd
Speaker 1: be capable of driving a car in the immediate future.
Speaker 1: I can drive, Tuli said, in a cracked, broken sounding voice.
Speaker 1: Right Roland said, well, that's lovely. Get your asses up
Speaker 1: and get moving. You've got about two minutes before ship
Speaker 1: and fans start their lovely dance. The post humans good
Speaker 1: humor was incongruous in this blood soaked room. Addressed to
Speaker 1: two people who lost a friend today, he grabbed one
Speaker 1: of the guard's pistols, which he shoved in his waistband
Speaker 1: and handed it to Sasha. Safeties off, he said, cheerily,
Speaker 1: So once you pull the trigger, stuff will happen. Sasha
Speaker 1: took the gun and then went over to help Manny up.
Speaker 1: Tually did the same thing with her wounded friend. Neither
Speaker 1: Manny or Rick were in great shape, but Manny at
Speaker 1: least seemed capable of standing under his own power. Once
Speaker 1: Sasha got him to his feet, he stayed there. She
Speaker 1: looked him in the eye, and while he seemed sort
Speaker 1: of dazed and glassy, his pupils fixed on hers, and
Speaker 1: he nodded. We have to go. She said, sitrat the tempoima.
Speaker 1: He muttered what Sasha asked, said, it's about fucking time.
Speaker 1: Just follow me, she said, with more confidence than she felt.
Speaker 1: I'll take care of everything. Oh funck that, Manny said.
Speaker 1: He put a hand on her shoulder and moved as
Speaker 1: if to push in front of her and shield her
Speaker 1: with his body. Then he grabbed a side, groaned, and
Speaker 1: staggered back. All right, yeah, you lead the way men.
Speaker 1: Tuli was up now. She had an arm around her friend,
Speaker 1: and together they moved almost as fast as a single
Speaker 1: elderly person with bad hips. Manny was not much more mobile.
Speaker 1: Sasha looked back at Roland. Where should we meet you?
Speaker 1: The next street behind this building is called Alma. Take
Speaker 1: it and go left until you hit a road named
Speaker 1: Cross Bend. I should be there by the time you arrive.
Speaker 1: What if we can't find up, he cut her off.
Speaker 1: Not finding a car is not an option. Talking more
Speaker 1: is not an option. I have to go kill people.
Speaker 1: You find something with wheels. Get Tullie in the driver's seat.
Speaker 1: Sasha started to say something, but the sirens had drawn
Speaker 1: very close. Indeed, she heard several shouts from outside the
Speaker 1: front of the building. Roland cursed. He'd already gathered up
Speaker 1: two of the rifles and slung them across his back.
Speaker 1: He had a large pistol in his left hand. At
Speaker 1: the sound of the shouting, he brought his right hand
Speaker 1: up to his belly and dug it deep inside his skin.
Speaker 1: Sasha watched in horror as he tore a heavy, blood
Speaker 1: caked weapon out of his gut. Roland walked up to
Speaker 1: the front window of the room and fired the weapon once, twice,
Speaker 1: three times. Its report was deep and bassy, like the
Speaker 1: sound of a heavy drum being struck. There was a
Speaker 1: brief island of quiet, followed by a trio of explosions
Speaker 1: that rattled the walls of the jail. Look. Roland said
Speaker 1: as he glanced back to her, I gotta go be
Speaker 1: a distraction. Find the car, get to cross bend in Alma,
Speaker 1: I'll be therein He glanced out the window again and shrugged.
Speaker 1: Ten maybe eleven minutes, okay should? Sasha started to ask
Speaker 1: talking time is done. Toullie's flat voice interrupted, He moves,
Speaker 1: We move now. She pulled her friend towards the door.
Speaker 1: There would have been something almost comical about the agonizing
Speaker 1: slowness with which they actually moved, but the gesture had
Speaker 1: its intended effect. Sasha took Manny by the hand. She
Speaker 1: let Tully lead the way to the door, but once
Speaker 1: they were in the hallway, the young woman had no
Speaker 1: idea where to go. Sasha took the lead then and
Speaker 1: guided her new comrades towards a flashing red exit sign
Speaker 1: that she knew led to a rear stairwell. For a
Speaker 1: brief passing second, she'd been worried that they might encounter
Speaker 1: other guards or jailers during their flight. That concern proved groundless.
Speaker 1: Gunfire had torn through the walls of the examination room
Speaker 1: and ripped apart the interior of the jail. She saw
Speaker 1: a few gouts of blood by the walls, and one
Speaker 1: sinister looking pool of it beneath a desk. It all
Speaker 1: drove an important lesson home for Sasha. Bullets don't stop
Speaker 1: when they miss. The stairwell was as deserted as the
Speaker 1: rest of the jail. They hoppled down at as quickly
Speaker 1: as three wounded people could manage. Sasha stayed in the back,
Speaker 1: under the instinctive assumption that it'd be best for morale
Speaker 1: if she didn't rush ahead. Their progress down the stairs
Speaker 1: was painfully slow, almost every step punctuated by the sound
Speaker 1: of gunfire out on the street. Below. It sounded like
Speaker 1: a full scale war had broken out there. There was
Speaker 1: a lot of screaming, and Sasha tried not to think
Speaker 1: too much about which of the nice young martyrs she'd
Speaker 1: met in the square were now dying by Roland's hand.
Speaker 1: What about Anne, what about Susannah? You're abandoning them? Sasha
Speaker 1: shook the thoughts clear from her head. There'd be time
Speaker 1: for self loathing later. Tulli and Rick reached the bottom
Speaker 1: floor first. They leaned back against the wall together and
Speaker 1: caught their breath. Rick was as white as a sheet
Speaker 1: and looked like he could still barely stand. Tullie was
Speaker 1: doing better, but not by a wide margin. When she
Speaker 1: and Manny hit the bottom floor, he went straight for
Speaker 1: the exit door. He clearly intended to be the first
Speaker 1: out in case anyone had a weapon trained on the door.
Speaker 1: Sasha stopped him. That wasn't hard, because he was only
Speaker 1: a little more stable than Tulli. She pushed him back,
Speaker 1: put a hand on the door, and then drew the
Speaker 1: pistol Roland had given her. She fixed Manny with what
Speaker 1: she hoped was a firm, fearless look. You're in no
Speaker 1: state to be heroic, he looked, to her as if
Speaker 1: he wanted to fight her, But then he looked down
Speaker 1: at the shaking hand he had pressed into the sopping
Speaker 1: wound in his side. Yeah, all right, you down to
Speaker 1: do the hero stuff. Then she nodded, well, then be
Speaker 1: my guest. Sasha didn't know how to use a gun.
Speaker 1: The m FED band almost all private firearm ownership. Her
Speaker 1: grandfather had owned a couple of bolt action hunting rifles,
Speaker 1: and he'd let Sasha hold them a few times. That
Speaker 1: was as close as she'd gotten to firearms training. She'd
Speaker 1: never actually shot the darn things. Once he died, her
Speaker 1: father had sold the guns rather than deal with the
Speaker 1: hassle and expense of a license. So she burst out
Speaker 1: onto the street with the pistol held high in front
Speaker 1: of her, like she'd seen in movies. It took her
Speaker 1: a few seconds to realize, sheepishly, that this behavior was
Speaker 1: more likely to get her gun down than aid in
Speaker 1: her defense. Thankfully, there'd been no martyrs watching the rear exit.
Speaker 1: Sasha waved for the others to follow her out and
Speaker 1: stashed the pistol under her shirt. For a few minutes,
Speaker 1: they'd ran, or rather hobbled, in what seemed like the
Speaker 1: right direction. The city still rang with the sound of sirens, unfire,
Speaker 1: and the occasional concussive blast, but it seemed to be
Speaker 1: moving away from them. Plano wasn't exactly crowded, but there
Speaker 1: were enough people out on the street to notice the
Speaker 1: fresh wounds on Tulli, Rick, and Manny. No one approached them,
Speaker 1: though Sasha wasn't sure if they passed unnoticed, but they
Speaker 1: were able to pass through the city without incident. Fear
Speaker 1: and the flight reflex were enough to carry them a
Speaker 1: few blocks in relative haste. Once they were out of
Speaker 1: sight of the jail. Rick put up a hand as
Speaker 1: he slumped back against the wall. Tulli continued to hold
Speaker 1: him up. She was pale, sweaty, and pained looking. Ryan
Speaker 1: shook and shuddered. His eyes were unfocused and he was
Speaker 1: clearly in shock. He needs to rest, Tulli said. Manny
Speaker 1: stopped next to them and leaned against the wall as well.
Speaker 1: He dodded at Tulli and then looked back to Sasha. Yeah,
Speaker 1: dit oh, I might prefer to lay down a die
Speaker 1: at this point. We need to find a car anyway,
Speaker 1: Tullie said, as she helped lower Rick down to sit
Speaker 1: against the wall. If I carry him for much longer,
Speaker 1: I'm going to drop. Sasha realized everyone was looking at her.
Speaker 1: Is that my job? Manny looked mortified, Tulie looked angry.
Speaker 1: Rick bless Him, was too deep and shocked to react. Yes,
Speaker 1: Tullie said, in a toneless voice that still somehow implied
Speaker 1: deep disappointment. Okay, then Sasha said, when I find the car,
Speaker 1: I assume you'll know how to hot wire it. Tullie laughed.
Speaker 1: It wasn't a nice laugh. If you're hiding a real
Speaker 1: nice deck somewhere in that's silly head of yours. Or
Speaker 1: you find a car that's older than my dad. Maybe
Speaker 1: otherwise we're going to need something with keys in it.
Speaker 1: What so I'm just supposed to carjack someone. Tullie stared
Speaker 1: dead eyed at her. Manny gave a pained, helpful smile.
Speaker 1: I mean you've got a gun, he said. Sasha felt
Speaker 1: the heat rise in her again. Why not, I've given
Speaker 1: up every other principle I have to day, I might
Speaker 1: as well commit armed robbery, the guilt staying her guts,
Speaker 1: but not as badly as it should have. Perhaps she
Speaker 1: was still numb from watching Doctor Brandton. Marigold die. Or
Speaker 1: maybe it's because I killed Alexander. Maybe I'm evil now
Speaker 1: and this is what that feels like. There was no
Speaker 1: time to mold the possibilities. Sasha left Manny and the
Speaker 1: others to catch their breath and darted down an alley
Speaker 1: towards a larger street that sounded like it might have traffic.
Speaker 1: She passed two parked cars and looked inside with a
Speaker 1: vain hope that, just maybe someone might have left their
Speaker 1: keys behind. It was to no avail. Sasha soon found
Speaker 1: herself on the cracked and shell popped asphalt of Alma Road.
Speaker 1: The buildings on either side of this stretch of street
Speaker 1: had taken significant damage during the Heavenly Kingdom's birth Pains.
Speaker 1: There were no people out on the sidewalks or visible
Speaker 1: in the windows. Anyone alive had probably hunkered down to
Speaker 1: avoid the shooting. There was still traffic on the road, though,
Speaker 1: three trucks in a dented, fume spewing white sedan shot
Speaker 1: by her at the speed of wartime traffic. Sasha drew
Speaker 1: her gun, looked at it, and then hurriedly stashed it
Speaker 1: inside her blouse again. When she realized how dumb that
Speaker 1: had been, Godly women do not carry guns. A series
Speaker 1: of four loud booms sounded in the distance. Sasha didn't
Speaker 1: know enough about weaponry to guess what those had been,
Speaker 1: but she knew they'd had something to do with Roland.
Speaker 1: People are dying, so I can find us a car
Speaker 1: and get everyone to safety. She started walking down the street,
Speaker 1: face pointed towards oncoming traffic, hands waving above her head
Speaker 1: in the international gesture for oh God, please help me.
Speaker 1: Two more cars zoomed past without even slowing to check
Speaker 1: on her. It was odd how that shocked her after
Speaker 1: everything else she'd seen in the Heavenly Kingdom. The faithful
Speaker 1: protect and support each other, Pastor Mike had claimed, But not,
Speaker 1: it seemed, when a half human monster was on a
Speaker 1: rampage through their city. That helped debate her guilt at least,
Speaker 1: or it did right up until the moment a familiar
Speaker 1: Jankie brown truck rumbled to a stop next to her.
Speaker 1: Excuse me, ma'am, do you need She turned around, and
Speaker 1: the man's face lit up in surprise, Miss Sasha. It
Speaker 1: was Darryll, the kindly old foreman who driven her to
Speaker 1: the House of Miriam on her first day in the Kingdom?
Speaker 1: Was that really only days ago? It seemed like years.
Speaker 1: Sasha felt like an old woman, even though she was
Speaker 1: just on the edge of eighteen. You hurt? He slammed
Speaker 1: the car into park and open his door one sec
Speaker 1: I got a first aid kit in the back. Where'd
Speaker 1: you get hit? Sasha looked down at her chest and
Speaker 1: realized she looked like she'd been badly injured. The blood
Speaker 1: wasn't hers, of course, but Darrell couldn't have known that.
Speaker 1: He thought she was hurt and he was trying to help.
Speaker 1: Am I really going to rob a good Samaritan? She was?
Speaker 1: Sasha waited until Darrel had closed the door, grabbed his
Speaker 1: medical kit, and turned towards her. Then she drew her
Speaker 1: pistol and leveled it at his weathered, grease stained, and
Speaker 1: now thoroughly surprised face. Huh, I need your truck. I
Speaker 1: need your truck, she said. Darrell dropped the medical kit
Speaker 1: and put both his palms out. Oh now, girl, all right,
Speaker 1: why don't you just put that gun down. Darrel ain't
Speaker 1: gonna hurt you. I'll take you anywhere you need to go.
Speaker 1: Let's just be real, calm, real slow about all this.
Speaker 1: Did somebody hurt you. I need your truck. It was
Speaker 1: so hard to keep her voice, even, so hard to
Speaker 1: do this cruel thing to a man who'd only been
Speaker 1: kind to her. Sasha could feel white hot tears streamed
Speaker 1: down her face. I must look like a crazy person,
Speaker 1: she thought. Maybe that will help now, Miss Sasha, Darrell said,
Speaker 1: I'm a guess. You don't know how to drive a truck.
Speaker 1: Mine ain't autonomous, it's old stick shift. Please, why don't
Speaker 1: you let me take you where you need to go?
Speaker 1: Sasha's mind raced. It was the same species of nervousness
Speaker 1: that had always gripped her during major exams in college
Speaker 1: admissions essays. She ran through and discarded a dozen different
Speaker 1: courses of action in her head. What if he won't
Speaker 1: give me the keys, What if he takes another step forward?
Speaker 1: What if he moved? It started with a single glance.
Speaker 1: Darrell's eyes darted towards the driver's side door of his truck.
Speaker 1: She almost didn't catch it, but for whatever reason, the
Speaker 1: gesture rose goose pimples on the back of her neck
Speaker 1: and forearms. I need your truck. Her voice was cold, strong, firm.
Speaker 1: Darrell nodded at her, his body posture stayed the same,
Speaker 1: but his eyes changed. There was something hard and haunted
Speaker 1: in them. Now, all right, miss Sasha, I'm just gonna
Speaker 1: reach in here for m keys. He took a step
Speaker 1: back and moved towards the door. The bottom fell out
Speaker 1: of Sasha's gut, and she screw aimed at him to stop,
Speaker 1: don't make another move. He dove for the door, pulled
Speaker 1: it open, and reached a hand down beside the driver's seat.
Speaker 1: Sasha saw a flash of metal in his hand, and
Speaker 1: she opened fire. She wasn't sure how many times she
Speaker 1: pulled the trigger, but soon the gun was empty. Sasha
Speaker 1: watched as Darrell stumble back into the truck and then
Speaker 1: slid to the ground. Most of her shots had gone wide,
Speaker 1: very wide. She'd chattered two of the truck's windows and
Speaker 1: put four or five rounds into the vehicle's body, but
Speaker 1: at least one had hit Darrell right in his throat,
Speaker 1: a kill shot. He slumped to the ground, gagged on blood,
Speaker 1: and jerked like an electrified marionette. Part of her wanted
Speaker 1: to run to him, to hold him while he died
Speaker 1: and say she was sorry. Then she saw the gun
Speaker 1: at his feet. It didn't dissipate her guilt. After all,
Speaker 1: she drawn on him first, but at least she hadn't
Speaker 1: shot and killed an unarmed man. She'd killed an armed man,
Speaker 1: an armed man who only ever helped me. Sasha slumped
Speaker 1: against the hood of the truck and lost herself in
Speaker 1: a storm of sobs. She didn't realize she dropped her
Speaker 1: gun until it hit the asphalt with a dull clank.
Speaker 1: She couldn't control her hands or her breathing. Her frantic
Speaker 1: sobbing had robbed all the air from her lungs. Her
Speaker 1: legs weakened, and she started to stumble to the ground
Speaker 1: when a pair of warm, semi strong arms caught her
Speaker 1: from behind. Hey, Hey, it's all right, it's all right, Manny,
Speaker 1: it's ok. You're gonna be ok. Her world went black
Speaker 1: for a little while. Sasha felt Manny lift her up,
Speaker 1: heard the sound of the truck's engine rumble back to life.
Speaker 1: But she couldn't see, and she couldn't move, and she
Speaker 1: couldn't stop crying. Time lost any sort of meaning. When
Speaker 1: she came back to herself, there were in motion. Manny
Speaker 1: sat next to her, and Rick next to him, tully drove.
Speaker 1: Sasha's eyes were drawn to Manny. He held Darrell's pistol
Speaker 1: in his left hand. She couldn't help but stare at
Speaker 1: the four spots of dried blood on the silver slide.
Speaker 1: You all right, Sasha, Manny asked. His question passed through
Speaker 1: her ears without hitting her mind. Sasha couldn't stop staring
Speaker 1: at Darrell's blood. I did that. I ended him. She'd
Speaker 1: ended two men to day. She felt no guilt about Alexander,
Speaker 1: but that was almost more disturbing. It seemed impossible that
Speaker 1: she had been a pampered suburban girl less than a
Speaker 1: month ago. Now she was a murderer. Whoever sheds human
Speaker 1: blood by humans, shall their blood be shed? Sasha felt
Speaker 1: as if a thick cloud of doom had fallen on
Speaker 1: her shoulders. The truck veered off to the right and
Speaker 1: slammed to a sudden stop. Sasha was flung forward into
Speaker 1: the back of Tullie seat. A trio of vehicles zoomed
Speaker 1: past them, speeding in the opposite direction, like several bats
Speaker 1: fleeing the same hell. Sasha realized, with a moment's focus,
Speaker 1: that there was an awful lot of traffic heading away
Speaker 1: from them as fast as possible, promp Tullie cursed and
Speaker 1: fought with a stick shift. The truck lurched forward again
Speaker 1: and made it back onto the road for a few seconds.
Speaker 1: Then another speeding car roared into the oncoming lane, and
Speaker 1: she was forced to veer off to the shoulder again.
Speaker 1: The sounds of gunfire grew louder. Sasha heard the thrumb
Speaker 1: of helicopter blades too, a second before one buzzed right
Speaker 1: over their heads. It looked like a military vehicle, painted
Speaker 1: matt black and laden with weapons. Sasha watched as zoomed
Speaker 1: ahead and rose up over a pair of high rise
Speaker 1: apartment buildings near the horizon line. There was a loud
Speaker 1: crump sound, and black smoke billowed out from the side
Speaker 1: of the craft. It spun around drunkenly in the air
Speaker 1: for one very long second before slamming into the roof
Speaker 1: of one of the high rises. The resultant blast rocked
Speaker 1: the truck. Two Lee veered left and right around a
Speaker 1: pothole at another speeding truck, respectively. Her knuckles were white,
Speaker 1: her jaw was clinched. Sasha could see Tulie's eyes in
Speaker 1: the rear view mirror. She looked terrified and angry at
Speaker 1: the same time, Rick moaned in pain with every shake
Speaker 1: and jostle. Manny closed his eyes, shook his head, and
Speaker 1: muttered something low under his breath. Are we close, Sasha
Speaker 1: asked Manny. He squinted and looked out at the road
Speaker 1: for a second. I mean, he shrugged. Yeah, probably, I'm
Speaker 1: gonna guess. Rollands close to the explosions and also causing them.
Speaker 1: Smoke now dominated the horizon, which grew less horizony and
Speaker 1: more imminent with each passing second. In spite of all that,
Speaker 1: Sasha's eyes kept being drawn back to the gun in
Speaker 1: Manny's hand and the dry red brown stains on the
Speaker 1: slide that was a good man's blood. She thought, how
Speaker 1: did it come to this? Hey, Jesus girl, it was Tuli.
Speaker 1: Sasha looked up to the rear view mirror and locked
Speaker 1: eyes with the other woman. But the funk up Chica,
Speaker 1: Tuli said. For the first time, Sasha heard real anger
Speaker 1: and not just cold indifference in her voice. The other
Speaker 1: woman continued, My best friend was just shot to pieces,
Speaker 1: My lover is bleeding out, and you're all fucked up
Speaker 1: because you've gunned down some crystal fascist ship fuck Suck
Speaker 1: your heart into your guts. I don't know where you
Speaker 1: came from, girl, but you're in a hardass part of
Speaker 1: the world. Now it's time to fortify. Fortify. Sasha held
Speaker 1: onto that word like a life preserver. Fortify survive. Then
Speaker 1: you can lose your head in tears and shame. Okay,
Speaker 1: she nodded. She started to apologize, but was interrupted when
Speaker 1: the truck screeched to another's sudden halt and threw everyone forward.
Speaker 1: Sasha's head hit the front seat again, and her world
Speaker 1: dissolved into stars. Ship. Tulie cried something rammed the rear
Speaker 1: of the truck. Sasha lost all orientation to reality. When
Speaker 1: her head and eyes cleared, the first thing she saw
Speaker 1: was Tullie nursing a broken nose. Blood poured down the
Speaker 1: other woman's face. Many seemed intact. Sasha looked behind them
Speaker 1: and saw a small sedan had dashed itself against the
Speaker 1: bed of their truck. It must have been following right
Speaker 1: behind when Tullie hit the brakes. Sasha swung her eyes
Speaker 1: front to see why they'd stopped. She saw Rowland. He
Speaker 1: stood maybe ten feet in front of the truck's hood.
Speaker 1: That arm raiser of his was extended again, but the
Speaker 1: blade was cracked and half shattered. His other hand held
Speaker 1: some sort of large, black assault rifle he hadn't been
Speaker 1: carrying in the jail. The pistol grip grenade launcher he'd
Speaker 1: been carrying was still with him, but he'd holstered it
Speaker 1: in an open hole in his belly. The left side
Speaker 1: of his cheek had been ripped away. Most of his
Speaker 1: hair was burnt off, and Sasha made out at least
Speaker 1: one clear bullet hole in his forehead. There might have
Speaker 1: been more. All the caked on blood and gore made
Speaker 1: it hard to discern. His clothing had been mostly shot, burned,
Speaker 1: or torn away. The dominant colors on his body were
Speaker 1: black and red, with a few horrible spots of white
Speaker 1: where bones shone through. In the open air, the city
Speaker 1: behind him was all smoke and fire. Emergency lights from
Speaker 1: several vehicles blinked madly in the miasthma, but there were
Speaker 1: no martyrs or emergency workers visible, at least none that
Speaker 1: were standing. Sasha saw several terribly still bodies lying among
Speaker 1: the piles of rubble. Roland staggered towards the truck and
Speaker 1: flung the passenger's side door open. He slumped into the
Speaker 1: seat bringing with him an overpowering stink of blood and fire.
Speaker 1: He leaned back in his seat and took three long breaths,
Speaker 1: and then he spoke, way, heads pretty clear, but you
Speaker 1: might want to hang a right and then take a
Speaker 1: left avoid the traffic. Truly nodded, and the truck jerked
Speaker 1: forward again. The riot out was so easy it scared Sasha.
Speaker 1: In fact, it seemed to scare everyone but Roland. Manny's
Speaker 1: knuckles grew whider and wider as they navigated their way
Speaker 1: out of the old Metroplex. Toulli's expression didn't change, but
Speaker 1: her body shook with nervous energy, and her jaw was
Speaker 1: set so tight that the veins on her neck bulged
Speaker 1: from the strain. It was a mercy that Rick was
Speaker 1: unconscious by that point. Convoys of military vehicles rolled past them,
Speaker 1: sometimes escorting ambulances and other emergency vehicles, sometimes bringing more
Speaker 1: soldiers to the chunk of the city. Roland had devastated
Speaker 1: Sasha's heart leapt into her throat every single time, but
Speaker 1: somehow no one stopped their truck. Roland assured them all
Speaker 1: that it would be fine. I kicked their asses so
Speaker 1: hard it'll take him an hour to find their cheeks.
Speaker 1: His only discomfort came once they left the zone of
Speaker 1: active danger. He seemed to deflate. Then, after a half
Speaker 1: hour on the road, his wounds had mostly healed. The
Speaker 1: new skin that grew back underneath seemed weirdly dark compared
Speaker 1: to the skin above it. Roland scratched at it an irritation,
Speaker 1: and then as casually as if he'd been tossing an
Speaker 1: apple core, he ripped off his face in one smooth
Speaker 1: emotion and tossed the bloody skin out the window. Jesus, dude,
Speaker 1: Manny said, disgusted. Couldn't you have waited until we weren't
Speaker 1: all in the car? Sasha stared in shock. Her hands
Speaker 1: started to tremble, and she felt the eared to vomit,
Speaker 1: but she fought it down and forced her stomach to
Speaker 1: an uneasy calm. You've seen worse than this now, and
Speaker 1: that was true. She looked back at Rowland and forced
Speaker 1: herself to take in his new face, which she guessed
Speaker 1: was really his old face. Neither iteration of him had
Speaker 1: been exactly handsome. She watched in queasy fascination as he
Speaker 1: picked the rest of the white skin from his hands
Speaker 1: and tossed it out the window. When he'd finished, he
Speaker 1: glanced up at Sasha. What he asked, Please tell me
Speaker 1: you're not a racist. This would be a real bad
Speaker 1: time for you to be racist. She's not racist, dude.
Speaker 1: Manny said, you just ripped your skin off. That freaks
Speaker 1: people out. Oh, said Rowland, right, Sorry, it's okay, She said,
Speaker 1: this is just my first time seeing someone rip off
Speaker 1: their own skin. First. Roland grunted, but probably not last.
Speaker 1: Sasha didn't have the guts to question him, so she
Speaker 1: kept quiet for the rest of the ride, so did
Speaker 1: most of the other passengers. For a long time, the
Speaker 1: only sounds inside the truck were Rick's unconscious moan and
Speaker 1: Rowland's occasional directions to Tulli. He led them through underpopulated
Speaker 1: neighborhoods and around checkpoints, past blackened buildings and wrecks of
Speaker 1: military vehicles destroyed during the Heavenly Kingdom's first Great advance.
Speaker 1: Sasha was surprised at the emptiness of most of the city.
Speaker 1: She began to understand why Manny called this place Sioda
Speaker 1: di Muerta. It took them two hours to escape the
Speaker 1: city sprawl and finally make their way out onto the
Speaker 1: open plains. They avoided the main highway that linked Dallas
Speaker 1: to Waco. Instead spider webbed their way across a series
Speaker 1: of farm roads. Every few minutes they'd rolled past the
Speaker 1: bones of a rural town. Every town out here seemed abandoned,
Speaker 1: as dead and dry as the acres of yellow grass
Speaker 1: that swallowed them up. A little before dark, they rolled
Speaker 1: over a decrepit bridge across a dry river bed. A
Speaker 1: bullet riddled sign identified this area as Basqui County. Rowland
Speaker 1: put a hand on Manny's shoulder and pointed towards a
Speaker 1: big metal barn on the horizon. Take us up there.
Speaker 1: We should probably stop for the night. What Tullie spoke up?
Speaker 1: Why we could be at rolling fuck in an hour?
Speaker 1: Roland shook his head. We got two routes back to
Speaker 1: the city. Either we find the main highway and deal
Speaker 1: with Kingdom patrols, or we keep ride in these country roads.
Speaker 1: That'll take at least another two or three hours and
Speaker 1: a lot of time off road in the dark. There's
Speaker 1: no better recipe for cracking an axle or blowing at tire.
Speaker 1: Tuly fumed, but she rolled the truck up and through
Speaker 1: a gap in what had once been the fence line
Speaker 1: of a farm. There were a lot of farmhouses around them,
Speaker 1: stretched out across acres and acres of fields and pecan orchards.
Speaker 1: They all looked abandoned, devoid of light, half reclaimed by vegetation.
Speaker 1: The bar and Roland led them to was just as empty.
Speaker 1: There were large holes in the sheet metal roof, and
Speaker 1: chunks of the metal walls had been peeled away for
Speaker 1: scrap metal. The underlying structure had been built from metal girders,
Speaker 1: though it seemed solid. They got out of the truck,
Speaker 1: Roland helped Tully carry her lover across the last few
Speaker 1: yards of field and into the old barn. The innards
Speaker 1: of the building were dusty. Rusted tools hung from the wall,
Speaker 1: and boxes of assorted goods littered the floor. Some of
Speaker 1: them had ripped open by scavengers, but most looked like
Speaker 1: they'd sat unmolested since the property had been abandoned. Manny
Speaker 1: found an old couch inside. Roland and Tullie helped Rick
Speaker 1: on to it. Then Roland walked off into the middle
Speaker 1: of the barn and started to root around in boxes.
Speaker 1: He came back a minute later with a load of
Speaker 1: canned goods in one arm and a handle of brown
Speaker 1: liquor in the other. He sat the whole lot down
Speaker 1: on the ground next to the couch, held up a
Speaker 1: can labeled water in big red letters, and then punched
Speaker 1: his finger through the top of the can. He handed
Speaker 1: it to Tulli and she helped Rick drink. He was
Speaker 1: semi conscious now, Sasha thought there might be a little
Speaker 1: more color in his cheeks. Roland opened three more cans,
Speaker 1: one of water and two filled with some sort of
Speaker 1: gloopy beef stew. He ripped the aluminum tops open with
Speaker 1: his bare fingers and then passed them around. Sasha was
Speaker 1: still too deep in the throes of depression and adrenaline
Speaker 1: dumpage to have any kind of appetite. The brown gray
Speaker 1: color of the stew didn't help with that, but Manny
Speaker 1: insisted she take a gulp, and as soon as the
Speaker 1: food hit her tongue, Sasha realized she was starving. She
Speaker 1: took two were deep gulps of the salty, mushy mass
Speaker 1: before passing it along to Tulli. The crew ate and
Speaker 1: rehydrated without conversation, although not in silence. The sounds of
Speaker 1: gulping and lip smacking filled the barn for a few minutes,
Speaker 1: Roland didn't join in the eating. Instead, he popped open
Speaker 1: the liquor bottle and drained it dry over the course
Speaker 1: of about ninety seconds. The big man closed his eyes,
Speaker 1: a smile crept up onto his features, and he gave
Speaker 1: a deep, contented sigh. When the food was almost gone,
Speaker 1: he stood up and staggered back into the piles of
Speaker 1: gear to grab two more bottles. These ones were filled
Speaker 1: with an off yellow liquid. He sat one down in
Speaker 1: between Manny and Sasha and immediately began to gustle the second.
Speaker 1: Many glanced at Sasha, then at Tulli, then down at
Speaker 1: the bottle. He popped the top and took a belt.
Speaker 1: Then he offered it to Sasha. If there was ever
Speaker 1: a time to dive into drinking, it's the day I
Speaker 1: killed two people. Sasha took the bottle and stared at
Speaker 1: it for a second. The label said Talisker and identified
Speaker 1: it as a product of Scotland. The bottle itself was
Speaker 1: covered in dust. Hey, Rowland, she asked, suddenly curious, did
Speaker 1: you know this place would have food and water and alcohol?
Speaker 1: Roland paused draining his second bottle and fixed Sasha with
Speaker 1: his strange blue eyes. He looked tired for the first
Speaker 1: time since she'd met him. Sasha wasn't sure if that
Speaker 1: was due to the rampage he just carried out or
Speaker 1: her question. I've been here before, he half mumbled, years ago,
Speaker 1: back before this old chunk of dirt was as much
Speaker 1: of a ship hole as it is now. Wait did
Speaker 1: you used to live here? Manny asked, I don't know.
Speaker 1: Roland shrugged. What do you mean you don't know? You
Speaker 1: clearly know this farm. He shrugged and gave a vague
Speaker 1: wave with his free hand. I have memories of this place,
Speaker 1: bright lights at night, people dancing, drugs and wine, and
Speaker 1: people in songs. I have memories of packing the supplies
Speaker 1: into boxes, buying ammunition. He nodded towards the still locked
Speaker 1: door of the barn. I remember locking that thing up,
Speaker 1: but I don't remember why exactly. I might have lived here,
Speaker 1: it might have belonged to a friend. Either way, I
Speaker 1: feel like the last time I was here was back
Speaker 1: before the revolution. His mind is full of holes, Manny explained,
Speaker 1: something happened to him a few years back. He remembers
Speaker 1: pieces of who he is, what he's done, but not everything.
Speaker 1: Tulli kicked Sasha gently in the hip. She gestured to
Speaker 1: the bottle of whiskey. If you're not drinking past the bottle,
Speaker 1: some of us have grieving to do. On impulse, Sasha
Speaker 1: took a pull from the bottle. She started to hand
Speaker 1: it over to Tulli, but then the taste hit her
Speaker 1: and she gagged. It was like someone had lit a
Speaker 1: fire in her throat, one that tasted of burning pete.
Speaker 1: She coughed and hacked for several seconds, while Tulli and
Speaker 1: Roland laughed. Once she regained her breath, Sasha finally handed
Speaker 1: off the bottle. You'll get better at it, the woman said,
Speaker 1: her lips twisted up into what might have been a
Speaker 1: real smile. Whiskey is in acquired taste, like cigars nanarchy.
Speaker 1: Tully took a very deep pole and sighed and satisfaction.
Speaker 1: She handed the bottle off to Manny and started gently
Speaker 1: petting Rick's face. The wounded man was asleep, but he
Speaker 1: seemed much healthier than he had been a half hour earlier.
Speaker 1: How are you doing, Sasha, Manny asked. His eyes met hers,
Speaker 1: and Sasha saw a deep concern in his gaze. I'm fine,
Speaker 1: she said, not really meaning it. She's all funked up
Speaker 1: over the guy she killed for the truck. Toullie grunted,
Speaker 1: shouldn't be fucker picked the wrong side, So did I.
Speaker 1: Sasha tried to keep the anger out of her voice.
Speaker 1: At first. Darrow was a good man. He didn't deserve
Speaker 1: to die. Neither did Marigold, said Toulli. Neither did Major Parne.
Speaker 1: Manny added in a quiet voice. They hung him on
Speaker 1: the day you and I met. The whole world's full
Speaker 1: of good dead people, said Tullie. My advice, don't cry
Speaker 1: over someone you shot in self defense. That's a karmic freebie.
Speaker 1: The guy had a gun, Manny added, seems like he
Speaker 1: just did what she had to do. Rowland was quiet
Speaker 1: through all this. He kept drinking, but his pace had slowed.
Speaker 1: His face took on a dark cast, and he slumped
Speaker 1: down into his chair. He seemed to collapse in on himself.
Speaker 1: A little look Cheka, Tulie said. There was a slight,
Speaker 1: drunken slurry were words. Now. I know I gave you
Speaker 1: a hard time, and it was dumb as fucky in
Speaker 1: a mood of this kingdom. But I gave you credit
Speaker 1: for breaking free and for helping us escape. You might
Speaker 1: be a little dumb, but you aren't bad people in
Speaker 1: my book. Don't beat yourself up over doing what you
Speaker 1: had to do. There was quiet for a little while
Speaker 1: Manny passed the bottle to Sasha. She took another gulp
Speaker 1: and managed to hold it down. This time. Tullie nodded
Speaker 1: an approval. When Sasha passed the whiskey on, Sasha found
Speaker 1: her eyes drawn once more to Darrell's gun. It was
Speaker 1: tucked into Tullie's waistband. Roland cleared his throat and gave
Speaker 1: a loud, flimmy cough. Sasha looked back at him. You
Speaker 1: didn't ask me for an opinion, he said, but since
Speaker 1: everyone else's way in and I might as well. There
Speaker 1: ain't nothing wrong with feeling bad about murder, even justified murder.
Speaker 1: But personally, I don't think that's what's fucking you up.
Speaker 1: What do you mean, she asked. He drained the last
Speaker 1: of the whiskey bottle and tossed it off into the darkness.
Speaker 1: It landed with a clank. I got real good senses,
Speaker 1: you know. I can't turn him off. So I heard
Speaker 1: your heart right. I smelled the narrow transmitters running through
Speaker 1: you synapses. I could taste the guilt wafting off you,
Speaker 1: but that's not the only thing I taste. He locked
Speaker 1: his unsteady gaze on hers. Sasha stared into the cold
Speaker 1: blue of his pupils. A chill ran down her spine,
Speaker 1: Sweat beat it on the back of her neck. When
Speaker 1: he spoke next, his voice was barely above a whisper.
Speaker 1: Back at the jail. When you crushed that guy's skull
Speaker 1: with a helmet, you've enjoyed yourself. You liked it. Sasha
Speaker 1: broke his gaze. She stared down at her lap and
Speaker 1: struggled to find a reply, but there was nothing else
Speaker 1: for her to say. Rowland was right. Hello and welcome
Speaker 1: to our show. I'm Zoie de Chanelle, and I'm so
Speaker 1: excited to be joined by my friends and cast mates
Speaker 1: Hannah Simone and Lamar and Morris to recap our hit
Speaker 1: television series New Girl. Join us every Monday on the
Speaker 1: Welcome to Our Show podcast, where we'll share behind the
Speaker 1: scenes stories of your favorite New Girl episodes, revealed the
Speaker 1: truth behind the legendary game True American, and discuss how
Speaker 1: this show got made with the writer's guest stars and
Speaker 1: directors who made the show so special. Fans have been
Speaker 1: begging us to do a New Girl recap for years,
Speaker 1: and we finally made a podcast where we answer all
Speaker 1: your burning questions like is there really a bear? In
Speaker 1: every episode of New Girl. Plus each week you'll hear
Speaker 1: hilarious stories like this at the end, when he says,
Speaker 1: you got some Schmidt on your face. I feel like
Speaker 1: I pitched that job. I believe that I feel like
Speaker 1: I did. I'm not on a thousand percent. I want
Speaker 1: to say that was I tossed that one out. Listen
Speaker 1: to the Welcome to Our Show podcast on the I
Speaker 1: Heart Radio app, Apple podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker 1: I'm Ev Rodsky, author of the New York Times bestseller
Speaker 1: Affair Play and Find Your Unicorn Space, activists on the
Speaker 1: gender division of labor, attorney and family mediator. And I'm
Speaker 1: Dr as eating A Rutcar, a Harvard physician and medical
Speaker 1: correspondent with an expertise and the science of stress, resilience,
Speaker 1: mental health, and burnout. We're so excited to share our podcast,
Speaker 1: Him Out, a production of I Heart Podcasts and Hell
Speaker 1: of Sunshine. We're uncovering why society makes it so hard
Speaker 1: for women to treat their time with the value it deserves.
Speaker 1: So take this time out with us. Listen to Time Out,
Speaker 1: a fair Play podcast on the I Heart Radio app,
Speaker 1: Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. When P. T.
Speaker 1: Barnum's Great American Museum burned to the ground in eighteen
Speaker 1: sixty five, what rose from its ashes would change the world?
Speaker 1: Welcome to Grim and Mild Presents, an ongoing journey into
Speaker 1: the strange, the unusual, and the fascinating. For our inaugural season,
Speaker 1: we'll be giving you a backstage tour of the always
Speaker 1: complex and often misunderstood cultural artifact that is the American
Speaker 1: Side Show. So come along as we visit the shadowy
Speaker 1: corners of the stage and learn about the people who
Speaker 1: were at the center of it all in a place
Speaker 1: where spectacle was king. We will soon discover there's always
Speaker 1: more to the story than meets the eye, So step
Speaker 1: right up and get in line. Listen to Grim and
Speaker 1: Mile Presents now on the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,
Speaker 1: or wherever you listen to podcasts. Learn more over at
Speaker 1: Grim and Mild dot com. Slash Presents Chapter twenty two.
Speaker 1: Manny Rolling Fuck was as bright, shiny and chaotic as
Speaker 1: it had been when he left, but Manny could see
Speaker 1: a real change among the citizens themselves. Gone were the
Speaker 1: lounging crowds of half naked people instead of the perpetual party.
Speaker 1: A war camp spread out around the great superstructure of
Speaker 1: the city. Hundreds of men and women were busy dawning armor,
Speaker 1: applying war paint, and checking over stacks of weaponry. Manny
Speaker 1: saw crates of guided mortars, piles of rocket launchers, boxes
Speaker 1: of high velocity ammunition, and enough firearms to equip every
Speaker 1: citizen a dozen times over. There was no discernible rolling
Speaker 1: fuck uniform that Manny could see. Some of the city's
Speaker 1: warriors war powered body armor, painted in garish colors and
Speaker 1: bid decked with various quotations Fuck your Day seemed particularly popular.
Speaker 1: Many of them wore pieces of pop culture costumery mixed
Speaker 1: in with their gear. Manny recognized Darth Vader's helmet, hell
Speaker 1: Boy's red right hand, and a surprising number of people
Speaker 1: with Mickey Mouse's face spray painted on their chest armor.
Speaker 1: An equal number of Fuckians wore no armor at all.
Speaker 1: Some of them were dressed in their normal flowing lounge garments.
Speaker 1: The weapons they wore were the only signs that they
Speaker 1: had plans beyond debauchery. Others were naked or mostly so.
Speaker 1: He saw one man wearing the helmet of a Greek
Speaker 1: hoplight and carrying two Viking axes on his back. He
Speaker 1: saw a woman with a Dragonov rifle on her back,
Speaker 1: an old German stallhelm on her head, an Ottoman mirror
Speaker 1: armor on her chest. She waved at them, excited. It
Speaker 1: took Manny a second to recognize Topas's face under the helmet.
Speaker 1: They're here, there, she stopped. Tullie had stopped too. She
Speaker 1: cast her face down. Many could see the shimmer of
Speaker 1: tears on her cheeks. A crowd gathered around them. In
Speaker 1: a few seconds, they were encircled by dozens of heavily
Speaker 1: armed post humans in a dizzying array of war costumes.
Speaker 1: Skofucker Mike pushed his way to the front and ran
Speaker 1: up to embrace Tulli. Manny was surprised when she started
Speaker 1: to sob. The big man held her tight, but looked
Speaker 1: to Rowland what happened. Roland gave him a look that said,
Speaker 1: you know, damn well what happened. But then he spoke, anyway,
Speaker 1: your friend didn't make it schofucker. Mike's jaw went tight,
Speaker 1: his eyes bulged, and he held onto Tulli a little tighter.
Speaker 1: Manny thought back to the night they'd spent in brain
Speaker 1: Breakers and the things he'd said about Marigold. Manny hadn't
Speaker 1: really known the woman at all, but he could tell
Speaker 1: Mike had cared deeply for her. He looked around at
Speaker 1: the crowd closing in on them, the dozens of half
Speaker 1: human god monsters with helpless rage carved onto their faces.
Speaker 1: What happened, Mike demanded. Roland opened his mouth to speak,
Speaker 1: closed it and ran a hand over his bald head.
Speaker 1: He opened his mouth again, managed to squeeze out an
Speaker 1: eye before he slumped his shoulders and hung his head.
Speaker 1: I wasn't fast enough, he said. Finally, they had better gear,
Speaker 1: newer suits than I had expected. Schoolfucker. Mike stared at him.
Speaker 1: Behind him, Topaz slid down to the ground and buried
Speaker 1: her head on her knees. Murmurs swept the crowd, and
Speaker 1: then Sasha spoke up, Your friends saved my life. Mike
Speaker 1: looked over and seemed to notice her for the first time,
Speaker 1: and who were you? His voice was not unfriendly, It
Speaker 1: wasn't exactly warm either. My name is Sasha, she said,
Speaker 1: her voice clearly on the edge of a sob. She
Speaker 1: looked from Mike to Toulli, to Topaz, to the crowd,
Speaker 1: and then back to Manny. He saw panic in her eyes,
Speaker 1: barely held in check by a cage of steely resolve.
Speaker 1: I made a mistake. I left my home for the Kingdom.
Speaker 1: I thought it was the right thing to do. I
Speaker 1: met Marigold while I was there, and she helped me
Speaker 1: see how wrong I'd been. She pointed to Roland. I
Speaker 1: tried to help him free your people. We all tried,
Speaker 1: but they were ready for us. They shot him. She
Speaker 1: estra to Rowland. They shot him a lot. They had
Speaker 1: us all dead to rights, and then Marigold. I don't
Speaker 1: know how, but she got a gun. She shot two
Speaker 1: of them, and then they shot her. She died, saving us.
Speaker 1: The silence that followed was louder than any artillery barrage
Speaker 1: Manny had ever sat through. Finally, Skullfucker Mike nodded at her.
Speaker 1: There were tears in his eyes, and Manny soon realized
Speaker 1: tears on every face in the crowd. Some people fell
Speaker 1: to their knees, others embraced and held their friends. One voice,
Speaker 1: hoarse and heavy with pain, howled out in anguish. It
Speaker 1: was met by another voice, and then another, and then
Speaker 1: another as Fukky and after Fucian tilted their head back
Speaker 1: and roared their grief out to the empty blue of
Speaker 1: the Texas sky. Rolling Fuck preferred to mourn through activity.
Speaker 1: The wailing and gnashing of teeth over Marigold didn't stop
Speaker 1: the city's medics from taking Rick and Tully to whatever
Speaker 1: buildings served as their equivalent of a clinic. Topaz stayed
Speaker 1: behind with a gathering crowd of mourners while skullfucker Mike
Speaker 1: gathered up Manny, Sasha and Rowland. There will be time
Speaker 1: to process later, He'd said, as much to himself as
Speaker 1: to them. There's a war council soon and they'll be
Speaker 1: wanting to debrief you. Fine, Roland said, but I'm stopping
Speaker 1: at the bar first. I need some opium and some
Speaker 1: got him tequila. Manny expected skullfucker Mike to be angered
Speaker 1: by that, given the circumstances, but the other chromed man
Speaker 1: just nodded and said I could use a drink or
Speaker 1: nine myself. They headed for the lift underneath the main
Speaker 1: roller Manny started to prepare himself for the meeting with
Speaker 1: this war Council, whatever that term meant. In a place
Speaker 1: like this, whatever happens, it's bound to be weird. They
Speaker 1: reached the lift skullfucker Mike opened the door and gestured
Speaker 1: for everyone to enter, and so. Less than an hour
Speaker 1: after arriving back in the City of Wheels, Manny, Sasha,
Speaker 1: and Rowland found themselves seated around the same redwood table
Speaker 1: where they had first met Nana Yazi and Donald Ferris.
Speaker 1: The room was more crowded this time around, with two
Speaker 1: new people he didn't recognize. One was a shirtless man
Speaker 1: with writhing snake tattoos across his chest and a pair
Speaker 1: of chaps that did nothing at all to cover up
Speaker 1: his junk. It didn't help that the man's legs were
Speaker 1: spread as wide as possible. He seemed to be deliberately
Speaker 1: showing off. Manny looked away and found himself staring at
Speaker 1: a very tall, very muscular, young seeming woman with a
Speaker 1: mohawk made from thick chrome spikes. She had light brown skin.
Speaker 1: Her cheeks were covered in several long, thin diagonal scars.
Speaker 1: The woman's eyes had no pupils. They looked gray at first,
Speaker 1: until Mannie realized they were actually just filled with static.
Speaker 1: When Manny finally pulled his gaze away from her, he
Speaker 1: was met with the biggest surprise of the day. Deshaun
Speaker 1: Clark was seated two chairs down from Nana Yazi. Major
Speaker 1: Clark many. The Major's lips cracked open into a wide
Speaker 1: mouthed grin. The left side of his face was still
Speaker 1: covered in hemostatic gauze, and the edges of the skin
Speaker 1: around the gauze looked black and burnt. His right hand
Speaker 1: was a smooth, angry pink color, a sure sign that
Speaker 1: had been severed and regrown in the recent past. Major
Speaker 1: Clark was bloody but unbowed. It's damn good to see him. Annie.
Speaker 1: I can't tell you how proud I was to hear
Speaker 1: you'd volunteered for this mission, Mr Pirrone, Manny started to say,
Speaker 1: But Major Clark put up his hand, I know, he said.
Speaker 1: Donald Ferris ahemmed, which Manny took as a gentle reminder
Speaker 1: that now was not the time for personal business. The
Speaker 1: old brit gestured first to the man with the riding
Speaker 1: snake tattoos. This is Jim Shannon, he said. He heads
Speaker 1: up a small mercenary outfit. I'm the guy who roped
Speaker 1: Roland into helping, Jim said with a wink. And this
Speaker 1: cheery lass. Donald pointed to the woman with a chromehawk
Speaker 1: is Kashore. She's been the city's elected wally too for
Speaker 1: the past three years. And who might this young lady be,
Speaker 1: Nanna Yazzi asked, nodding at Sasha. The old woman stood
Speaker 1: and stepped forward to greet Sasha with a hug. Sasha
Speaker 1: tensed up. She looked scared to return the embrace, so
Speaker 1: Nana Yazzi backed off and favored the girl with a
Speaker 1: warm smile. I'm sorry, child, I didn't mean to pressure you.
Speaker 1: I'm just happy or hear with us. Sasha relaxed at that,
Speaker 1: but she still didn't step forward. Her name, Sasha said Rowland.
Speaker 1: She used to be with the Kingdom, now she's not.
Speaker 1: He paused a second, considered his words, and added, she
Speaker 1: beat one of em to death with a helmet. Oh my,
Speaker 1: oh dear. Nana Yazzi tisked and shook her head. I'm
Speaker 1: so sorry, Sasha, that must have been a terrible experience
Speaker 1: for you. She enjoyed it, Jim said with a harsh
Speaker 1: bark of a laugh. I'm sure Rowland smells it too.
Speaker 1: Isn't that a radhun You loved killing whoever the fuk
Speaker 1: you killed, and you feel shitty about that? Will let
Speaker 1: me suit stop right now, or you'll leave this room.
Speaker 1: Nana Yazzi's voice was firm, but devoid of any anger
Speaker 1: or heat. Tomanny's shock, Jim stopped the Posthuman nodded and said,
Speaker 1: I apologized, Sasha, that was a dick move, and then
Speaker 1: he lowered his eyes just a little. In contrition. Nana
Speaker 1: Yazzi offered Sasha a seat and then busied herself in
Speaker 1: the corner, making Sasha a cup of tea. Once that
Speaker 1: was done and they were all settled in, Anna sat
Speaker 1: back down and looked at Manny. What happened, is all,
Speaker 1: she asked. Manny started talking. He told her, and by extension,
Speaker 1: the whole table, everything that had happened since he and
Speaker 1: Rowland left rolling fuck. He told them about their trouble
Speaker 1: with the checkpoints on the way into town. He walked
Speaker 1: them through the intake process, his and Roland's few days
Speaker 1: as martyrs in training, and what he'd seen in the
Speaker 1: few sections of Plano he'd been allowed to haunt during
Speaker 1: his time there. The woman with the Chrome Hawk was
Speaker 1: particularly interested in what he and Rowland had to say
Speaker 1: about the Kingdom's preferred assault tactics. They're not going to
Speaker 1: be kicking indoors in fighting house to house, Roland explained, No,
Speaker 1: just start shelling at the first sign of resistance. They
Speaker 1: don't care about civilian casualties. When Manny explained what the
Speaker 1: Kingdom had been doing at the old Tesla factory, almost
Speaker 1: everyone looked horrified. Donald Ferris spat at the ground. Most
Speaker 1: of the others cursed or at least shook their heads.
Speaker 1: Nana Yazi teared up. Jim, though seemed almost enthusiastic about
Speaker 1: the revelation. Fascinating, he muttered just loud enough for Manny
Speaker 1: to hear. Once everyone was caught up the table fired
Speaker 1: off a few questions at him and more towards Rowland.
Speaker 1: They seemed mostly curious as to what they'd been able
Speaker 1: to glean about the number of recruits in the Heavenly Kingdom.
Speaker 1: Manny didn't have much useful there, so he shut up,
Speaker 1: leaned back, and let Rowland give the answers. An awkward
Speaker 1: silence descended on the table. After a few minutes well,
Speaker 1: Donald Ferris said, finally, I suppose we were fools to
Speaker 1: hope for much more than what you've got as it stands.
Speaker 1: Were left grappling to try an account for the sheer
Speaker 1: number of men the Kingdom has deployed to assault Austin
Speaker 1: twenty thousand Madas Jim spoke up and give a take
Speaker 1: a grand Manny's blood went cold. The SDF at its
Speaker 1: height hadn't been more than six thousand fighters, and those
Speaker 1: were spread out across the serried battle grounds of North Texas.
Speaker 1: The whole free city of Austin didn't have more than
Speaker 1: five thousand people in its full time defense corps. Twenty
Speaker 1: thousand men was impossible, he said, that's just fucking impossible.
Speaker 1: I'd be inclined to agree with you, kid, said Jim,
Speaker 1: if my own men hadn't double checked the count for us.
Speaker 1: The Kingdom's already marshaled half of that force on the
Speaker 1: outskirts of d'a f w near Lancaster. They'll be in
Speaker 1: Waco tomorrow if no one stops him. Hell, they could
Speaker 1: be pound in Austin with artillery by doc Donald Ferris
Speaker 1: nodded mister Shennon. Here he gestured, to Jim, as agreed
Speaker 1: to lend a hand along with several dozen of his mercenaries.
Speaker 1: Add that to the warriors of Rolling Fuck, and we've
Speaker 1: got seven hundredish post humans. It's a large enough force
Speaker 1: to hold Waco and badly bloody their nose. But Cushuri
Speaker 1: spoke for the first time. She had a deep, gravelly
Speaker 1: voice that sounded like she'd been eating cigarettes for the
Speaker 1: last ten years. Rolling Funck is not in the business
Speaker 1: of volunteering for our own Vietnams. My people aren't signing
Speaker 1: up for a war. I can guarantee our presence on
Speaker 1: the battlefield for up to forty eight hours, enough time
Speaker 1: for vengeance, she continued. After that, you're her in cats.
Speaker 1: Is that a problem, Manny asked, I mean I saw
Speaker 1: Roland lay waste to half a city, six hundred of him.
Speaker 1: There's only one of him, Kishore said. Jim nodded in
Speaker 1: agreement and fixed Manny with his uncomfortable gray eyes. Let see, kid,
Speaker 1: he said me. Anyone a Roland Fox war is as
Speaker 1: good for a few dozen normal troops in a straight fight.
Speaker 1: More of we're talking half trained partizans, but nobody is
Speaker 1: like Roland. Many looked over to Roland. The big man
Speaker 1: seemed distinctly uncomfortable with all the attention. He stared down
Speaker 1: at his hands, which seemed to be occupied with tearing
Speaker 1: up a paper drink coaster. The Matas have a lot
Speaker 1: of half trained potizans, but they've also got tanks, artilleryous suits,
Speaker 1: the resources of a nation state or close enough, rolland
Speaker 1: fuck can hold that off for a while. But without
Speaker 1: rolland the best they can do is delay the inevitable.
Speaker 1: Now with Roland, Jim continued, this is a two hour
Speaker 1: five tops. We set up our troops in some little
Speaker 1: chunk of the city and stop dropping mortars and rockets
Speaker 1: on the van God. They pull up and circle us
Speaker 1: and start deploying their artillery to bombas to kingdom. Come then,
Speaker 1: when they a good and packed together, we dropped Roland
Speaker 1: on the asses. Because Shore He nodded, yes, She said,
Speaker 1: he'll hit them and disrupt their whole order of battle
Speaker 1: while our cavalry rolls around their flanks and charges. That
Speaker 1: should be enough to make them panic. Then we'd chase
Speaker 1: them down until they lose cohesion. Roland's heads stayed down.
Speaker 1: He didn't speak. Manny looked from him to Jim to
Speaker 1: Nanna Yazzi and Donald Ferris. So what's the problem, Manny asked.
Speaker 1: If Roland and Rolling Funk are all in, there should
Speaker 1: be a walk in the park. Rowland, Nanny Yazzi said,
Speaker 1: prefers not to fight. But I just saw him. You
Speaker 1: just saw me break a long streak of not killing people.
Speaker 1: Roland's voice sounded odd, hollow and dry, and utterly without
Speaker 1: any of the mirth or mischief Manny had come to
Speaker 1: expect from the chromed man. I did that to get
Speaker 1: my memories back, Manny, he shrugged, And I did it
Speaker 1: for you because you're my buddy. But I got no
Speaker 1: stake in Austin. But you know what the Heavenly Kingdom
Speaker 1: will do if they take the city, Manny protested. You've
Speaker 1: seen what they did to Plano. They'll do that to
Speaker 1: millions of decent people if they can. You have the
Speaker 1: power to stop that. You're telling me you won't. Roland
Speaker 1: met his eyes and just said, yes, Hugh, son of
Speaker 1: a bitch. Manny felt the anger well up inside him.
Speaker 1: It merged with his grief over Major Pirone's death, Oscar's death,
Speaker 1: and his rage at the Heavenly Kingdom, the martyrs and
Speaker 1: every other group of assholes who'd helped turn his young
Speaker 1: life into a parade of nightmares. Hugh absolute, son of
Speaker 1: a bitch, You fucking coward. Manny didn't think, couldn't think.
Speaker 1: He pulled back his fist and swung as hard as
Speaker 1: he could for Roland's face. The chrombed man didn't move,
Speaker 1: didn't even blink. Manny hit him right in the nose.
Speaker 1: He was softer than Manny would have guessed, didn't feel
Speaker 1: any different from punching a normal human. Manny swung again
Speaker 1: and again until he felt something crack in his knuckles.
Speaker 1: He cried out from the pain and pulled back to
Speaker 1: nurse his wounded hand. For a few seconds, Manny or
Speaker 1: God about the rest of the room. He closed his
Speaker 1: eyes and let his thoughts dissolve into an ocean of
Speaker 1: physical pain. The agony of his broken hand was almost soothing.
Speaker 1: It was better than thinking about Mr. Pirrone. It was
Speaker 1: better than thinking about Alejandro or Oscar. It was better
Speaker 1: than thinking about his soon to be shattered home. Manny
Speaker 1: felt a hand on his shoulder. The sensation pulled him
Speaker 1: out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked up and saw
Speaker 1: nanny Azzi. She smiled, her sad smile and said, Manny,
Speaker 1: everyone here understands your pain. Not me, said Jim, I've
Speaker 1: never been a big fan Austin too, damn rolland threw
Speaker 1: his empty pint glass at the other post human's face.
Speaker 1: It shattered on impact, embedding shards deep into Jim's cheeks
Speaker 1: and forehead. His head snapped back and he blinked in shock.
Speaker 1: A few times. Sorry, he said, I deserve that, and
Speaker 1: I deserved that. Roland said to Manny, no hard feelings
Speaker 1: I get while you're pissed, But kid, you gotta understand something.
Speaker 1: Austin's home to you, to me, it's just another city
Speaker 1: held by just another side. Half my remaining memories are
Speaker 1: of one cause or another asking me to go murder
Speaker 1: in their name. I'm fucking done with it. Minnie looked
Speaker 1: to Major Clark, the STF officer's eyes were lit by
Speaker 1: a familiar cold fire. He spoke in a tone of
Speaker 1: barely controlled anger. That is, you're right, of course, you
Speaker 1: can choose to leave, just as I will choose to
Speaker 1: fight and die. I wonder what Manny will choose. Manny
Speaker 1: hadn't really settled on that himself. Before he could stumble
Speaker 1: through his response Sasha spoke. I'll fight, she said. I
Speaker 1: don't know much about guns, but I'll do my best.
Speaker 1: Roland slumped back in his chair and tossed his arms
Speaker 1: up in a dramatic show of frustration. At two, Jesus, girl,
Speaker 1: i'll fight, Manny said to Major Clark, doing his best
Speaker 1: to talk over Roland. I'll choose to fight too. This
Speaker 1: isn't gonna work, you know, Roland said, I'm not going
Speaker 1: to be shamed into fighting again. It's just not going
Speaker 1: to fucking happen. Jim leaned in. He fixed Roland with
Speaker 1: a look that seemed almost hungry. I think it will happen.
Speaker 1: I think the peculiar arc of your moral compass won't
Speaker 1: let you leave these kids to die. He seemed surprised
Speaker 1: by the revelation. Huh, fascinating enough of that. Donald Ferris
Speaker 1: sounded angry. I won't stand to see this man badget
Speaker 1: and press it into fighting against his will. We might
Speaker 1: as well dissolve the counsel for now and reconvene without Roland. Good.
Speaker 1: Roland stood up and stomped over to the exit. That's
Speaker 1: all you people need for me. I'm gonna go get
Speaker 1: good and pissed. And start my walk back to Arizona.
Speaker 1: He flipped his middle finger out at the room and
Speaker 1: slammed the door behind him. As he left, all eyes
Speaker 1: turned to Manny. I should probably go talk to him.
Speaker 1: Don't do anything you're not comfortable doing. Emmanuel Donald said,
Speaker 1: fuck that. Jim said, the bestard's on the ropes. Shame him,
Speaker 1: shame him good. As he headed for the exit, Mannie
Speaker 1: looked to Major Clark. The old soldier's one good eye
Speaker 1: was narrow and focused. Manny, he said, if he didn't
Speaker 1: want to tuck, he wouldn't have gone up to the bar.
Speaker 1: He'd have just left. There's no honor lost. In another conversation,
Speaker 1: another try, Roland was three beers in by the time
Speaker 1: Manny reached him, and knowing rolling fuck that could mean
Speaker 1: he'd already ingested enough acid to kill a large octopus.
Speaker 1: Hey man, he said, heybody. Roland replied in a voice
Speaker 1: that was just super stoned. Sorry about getting angry. Back there,
Speaker 1: the post Humans spun his empty pint glass around on
Speaker 1: the bar table. It was a strange sight to see.
Speaker 1: Manny had gotten so used to seeing Roland is something
Speaker 1: akin to a Greek god. He certainly wasn't omniscient or omnipotent,
Speaker 1: but he was unspeakably powerful and just as irresponsible to
Speaker 1: leave out around humans. And yet here he was fiddling
Speaker 1: with an empty pint glass like a nervous college freshman
Speaker 1: standing at the back wall of some house party. Many
Speaker 1: felt a surge of sympathy. It's okay, man, I think
Speaker 1: I actually get it, he said, like I've had plenty
Speaker 1: of chances to join I of the SDF or the
Speaker 1: Austin Defense Forces. I never did. Maybe some of that's
Speaker 1: because I'm scared help. Up until like a few days ago,
Speaker 1: my plan was to get the funk off this continent
Speaker 1: as soon as I could afford it. Manny paused and
Speaker 1: bit his lip. It was an instinctive gesture, his gut's
Speaker 1: reaction to a sudden burst of self awareness. Manny hadn't
Speaker 1: thought about any of this before. I don't know, he said.
Speaker 1: This ship has been going on basically my whole life.
Speaker 1: I can't remember a time when I wasn't scared of
Speaker 1: something like this happening. I didn't understand any of it
Speaker 1: as a kid, but I can remember being seven or
Speaker 1: eight years old and just being so angry at the soldiers,
Speaker 1: even our soldiers. I thought, if all you assholes would
Speaker 1: just refuse to be led into battle, none of this
Speaker 1: could happen. You know, that's not how it works, Ryan
Speaker 1: Roland asked as he turned away from Manny and waved
Speaker 1: at the bartender. We love this war ship. At least
Speaker 1: someone us due those of us who were Oh the
Speaker 1: bartender arrived, Roland ordered my time mixed with the margharita
Speaker 1: and one of those what you got him column? Oh yeah,
Speaker 1: a fucking mohito Roland. Manny's voice was gentle but firm.
Speaker 1: How many beers did you drink before I got here?
Speaker 1: No beers, Roland said in a casual voice. Mushroom rum,
Speaker 1: sweet but not bad. He licked his lips as he
Speaker 1: watched the bartender work through the herculean task of crafting
Speaker 1: his request at beverage. Roland Manny said, and the chrombed
Speaker 1: man turned back to him. Ah, sorry, it's just been
Speaker 1: too long a stretch of sober for me. I got excited.
Speaker 1: What the funk was I saying? That war is fun?
Speaker 1: Oh yeah, as long as you don't think you will die.
Speaker 1: That's why all throughout history he had so many generals
Speaker 1: and politicians kicking off conflicts because they felt safe and
Speaker 1: when you're pretty sure you'll live, war is an absolute hoot.
Speaker 1: That's the problem with me and fighting the problem as
Speaker 1: you like it too much. Roland grabbed his hand. The
Speaker 1: chrombed man moved so fast Manny didn't even see the
Speaker 1: motion blur. Roland's hand was just wrapped around his wrist, immovable.
Speaker 1: He squeezed hard enough that it hurt. Roland's eyes bulged
Speaker 1: out and stared into Manny with a man of intense
Speaker 1: at that was frightening. I fucking love it. It's like
Speaker 1: sex on heroin and bungee jumping and getting rammed in
Speaker 1: the assid and that first shadow liquor you is snake
Speaker 1: when you're fourteen, all at once, and mixed with the
Speaker 1: best actual battle drugs the most bloated military budget and
Speaker 1: history can buy. He loosened his grip and turned half
Speaker 1: away from Manny. That's why I shouldn't do it, because
Speaker 1: I'll get carried away like I got carried away in Dallas.
Speaker 1: Maybe this time I won't be able to stop when
Speaker 1: it's time to stop. Many kept his eyes on Rowland's.
Speaker 1: The big man turned a little further to the left,
Speaker 1: but he didn't look away. How do you know that
Speaker 1: your intervention won't make things better, Manny asked. Maybe if
Speaker 1: we can kill enough in the martyrs, their power will
Speaker 1: be broken forever. Maybe your intervention will be the first
Speaker 1: step towards making this a more livable part of the globe.
Speaker 1: Roland laughed. It started as a low chuckle that then
Speaker 1: cascaded into a series of rolling, rib cracking howls. Manny
Speaker 1: didn't get the joke, and he couldn't find any humor
Speaker 1: in his words, so he sat tight until Roland's mirth
Speaker 1: subsided and the chromed man had recovered enough to explain
Speaker 1: him self. Sor right, sorry, he said, between chuckles. It's
Speaker 1: just a ship. Kid, you're too young to know how
Speaker 1: funny that is. Roland straightened up and wiped a tear
Speaker 1: from his eye. So you're talking about me the exact
Speaker 1: same way people talked about the U. S. Military back
Speaker 1: when I was a kid. The bartender came by and
Speaker 1: sat down Roland's drink, an enormous jug filled with a
Speaker 1: multi hued mix of alcoholic beverages. The post human took
Speaker 1: a deep poll from his my Tai garito man. He
Speaker 1: took the chance to ask a question I thought you
Speaker 1: didn't remember anything further back than a few years ago.
Speaker 1: I don't remember anything clearly, Roland said, But I do
Speaker 1: remember bits and pieces, and I remember being a young
Speaker 1: man and watching the news break in an off base bar.
Speaker 1: Some election had gone bad in Bolivia. The president announced
Speaker 1: he was sending in soldiers to keep the peace. Did
Speaker 1: it work, Manny asked, I don't, no kid, would your
Speaker 1: school teach you about Bolivia? That there was a genocide
Speaker 1: at oh Man, he said, as Roland's points sunk in
Speaker 1: right yep. Roland grunted and took another deeper pull from
Speaker 1: his ridiculous beverage. They were quiet for a while. Mannie
Speaker 1: took the opportunity to take a long look at Roland.
Speaker 1: His face held only a few lines around his eyes
Speaker 1: and lips, and yet he still looked old, positively ancient.
Speaker 1: There appeared to be a tremendous weight to the man's eyes,
Speaker 1: accentuated by the deep wrinkles underneath them. It looked as
Speaker 1: if the chrombed man's face was sagging underneath the weight
Speaker 1: of what he had seen Rowland. Mannie asked, do you
Speaker 1: have any idea of where you came from? I think
Speaker 1: I was born round Mississippe ba No, Manny interrupted, not
Speaker 1: like where you were born, but how you became what
Speaker 1: you are to day. You said, you've been disconnected from
Speaker 1: the internet for the last ten years. I've got a
Speaker 1: guess your implants or even older than that. But the
Speaker 1: way everyone here talks about you, you're still king shit ah.
Speaker 1: Roland said, yeah that. I got no real idea what
Speaker 1: happened there. I know I was in the army. I'm
Speaker 1: pretty sure that's when the tankering started, sure, Manny said,
Speaker 1: but didn't A lot of the road people start as
Speaker 1: especial forces who went rogue. Why are you special? You
Speaker 1: had no clear answer to that, buddy, He smiled, as
Speaker 1: if he just remembered something good. I guess I've got
Speaker 1: that surgery coming up. Once I get my memories back,
Speaker 1: I'll let you know what I find out. Manny laughed too,
Speaker 1: but his was cold and bitter. Sure, I'll probably be
Speaker 1: in a refugee camp at that point, or dead, damn kid.
Speaker 1: Roland said, yeah, man, he said, I'm really not trying
Speaker 1: to manipulate you here. It's just now I get it.
Speaker 1: I get and Roland waved him off. It's fair. You
Speaker 1: get every right to be piste. I just can't. He
Speaker 1: trailed off many put a hand on Roland's shoulder. He
Speaker 1: didn't understand how the post human felt. How could he?
Speaker 1: Man He couldn't even conceive of having that kind of power.
Speaker 1: But he could see why it was a difficult choice.
Speaker 1: There was a part of Manny, a dark, manipulative chunk
Speaker 1: of his soul, that knew he was on his way
Speaker 1: to changing Roland's mind. This was essentially the same strategy
Speaker 1: he used on the job. You built empathy with people
Speaker 1: through a combination of shared experiences in regular engagement. That
Speaker 1: but he paid dividends when you needed some lieutenant's approval
Speaker 1: to cross the checkpoint. It would pay dividends here if
Speaker 1: he was careful and consistent. As fucked up man he thought,
Speaker 1: you're manipulating your friend into killing a bunch of people.
Speaker 1: You know what, Manny said, I'm sorry, I didn't mean
Speaker 1: to Roland drain the rest of his mug beuched and
Speaker 1: looked over at Manny. He looked unsteady, half conscious. The
Speaker 1: chrombed man put his left hand over Manny's hand while
Speaker 1: it rested on his shoulder. He fixed Manny with his
Speaker 1: half focused eyes and nodded FuG it. Roland said, I'll
Speaker 1: fucking help you and be a dick if it didn't.
Speaker 1: Thank you, Manny said with a nod, I know, do not
Speaker 1: not say anything else, kid, I don't really want to
Speaker 1: think about what I just promised to do. Man He
Speaker 1: found Sasha sitting around a fire pit outside the city,
Speaker 1: proper deep in conversation with Donald Ferris. She sat on
Speaker 1: the ground, legs splayed out wide with her button the grass.
Speaker 1: Donald sat in a folding chair. It wasn't cold outside precisely,
Speaker 1: but it had cooled off a great deal from the
Speaker 1: heat of the day. The air held just the barest
Speaker 1: hint of winter. It was shaping up to be one
Speaker 1: of those odd September days where Texas seemed on the
Speaker 1: verge of an actual seasonal shift. One look at Sasha's
Speaker 1: face told him that she was at least as unsettled
Speaker 1: as Roland. He didn't want to crowd her, so he
Speaker 1: squatted down on the other side of Donald. Emmanuel. The
Speaker 1: old man's voice was as smooth and rich as Manny
Speaker 1: remembered from the narration of his documentary, It's good to
Speaker 1: see you. Sasha's been telling me her story. She actually
Speaker 1: just turned to the subject of you, eh. Manny asked, yes,
Speaker 1: she was telling me how she met you and Marigold,
Speaker 1: and how you both helped to find her way free
Speaker 1: of the kingdom. Oh, he said, and looked at Sasha.
Speaker 1: I never really met Marigold. I didn't realize you knew
Speaker 1: her well. Sasha shook her head. I only knew her
Speaker 1: a little while. I was just supposed to be administering
Speaker 1: tests to her. But I couldn't stop her from talking,
Speaker 1: and she made sense. She made more sense than what
Speaker 1: was going on out in the Kingdom every day. Sasha
Speaker 1: stared down into the fading embers of the fire. I
Speaker 1: feel stupid forever believing in that place. What do you
Speaker 1: believe now, Donald asked, I don't know, She said. It
Speaker 1: seems arrogant to decide that God doesn't exist just because
Speaker 1: I let myself get taken in by a colt. M
Speaker 1: The old man nodded. The good news is you're young.
Speaker 1: You've got plenty of time to figure things out. Again,
Speaker 1: his cheeks turned up into a smile and his face
Speaker 1: blossomed with wrinkles. Now he looked up at Manny, what
Speaker 1: have you been up to, my dear boy talking to Roland.
Speaker 1: Manny said he agreed to help. By the way, he's
Speaker 1: going to fight. Donald Ferris's smile turned into a frown.
Speaker 1: Manny hadn't been expecting that. How did you do it,
Speaker 1: he asked, in a somber, grave voice. We just talked
Speaker 1: for a while, Manny said. He explained why he didn't
Speaker 1: want to fight. It sounded very reasonable. Manny paused, and
Speaker 1: then made the choice to lie just a little. I
Speaker 1: wasn't trying to change his mind. I didn't ask him
Speaker 1: to help. That last part was true. At least. I
Speaker 1: do feel bad, though, I'm sure he changed his mind
Speaker 1: because of me. Is it really on you if he
Speaker 1: chooses to fight, Sasha asked, I killed two men. Both
Speaker 1: of those deaths are on me. But you didn't order
Speaker 1: Roland to do anything. No. Donald Ferris agreed, But I
Speaker 1: doubt Roland would have made the decision to intervene if
Speaker 1: Manny hadn't pressed. That's probably true, Manny admitted. Donald looked
Speaker 1: from Manny to Sasha. There's a war ritual peculiar to
Speaker 1: the men and women in whatever's of this community. I
Speaker 1: think you'd benefit from seeing it. A ritual, Sasha asked,
Speaker 1: not a religious one? I assure you, but yes, they
Speaker 1: call it their war ritual. He extended a hand out
Speaker 1: to the field around Rolling Fuck. Many looked out at
Speaker 1: it for the first time since coming out here and
Speaker 1: realized that people seem to be packing up right now.
Speaker 1: Donald said, the citizens are packing up their tints and
Speaker 1: their arvis and preparing the city for departure. It's moving
Speaker 1: out with their army. They'll drive that thing. He jerked
Speaker 1: a thumb in the direction of the City of Wheels,
Speaker 1: right up to the damn battlefield. It'll be behind them
Speaker 1: the whole time they're fighting. I think they've stole the
Speaker 1: idea from the ancient Celts. Anyway, he said. Once the
Speaker 1: city's in position, they'll open up these little boxes that
Speaker 1: look quite a lot like bee hives, and they'll let
Speaker 1: out a swarm of about a thousand little drones. Those
Speaker 1: are mostly just facial recognition cameras attached to wings and
Speaker 1: a wee engine. They'll record everything and send data on
Speaker 1: the faces of every enemy fighter to a central computer
Speaker 1: in the city. What did does that do, Manny asked.
Speaker 1: It gives us a chance to identify those men or women,
Speaker 1: so we can scrape their social media profiles and display
Speaker 1: pictures and videos from their lives. Once they die, the
Speaker 1: whole city, everyone who isn't fighting turns out to watch that.
Speaker 1: That sounds fucking terrible, Manny said, what do we gain
Speaker 1: from watching the home movies of dead men? A memorial?
Speaker 1: Manny didn't understand, but he could see that Donald Ferris
Speaker 1: was revving himself up for an all explanation. He let
Speaker 1: the old man speak. I was a small child when
Speaker 1: my country invaded a Rack, along with the United States
Speaker 1: and a few other nations. The war was news, yes,
Speaker 1: but that's all it was. Even our own soldiers were
Speaker 1: more numbers than real people. I'd hear that two Royal
Speaker 1: Marines had died in a roadside bombing, and it meant
Speaker 1: less to me than when my neighbor broke his legs
Speaker 1: slipping down the stairs. War isn't like that for us,
Speaker 1: Manny said, I don't know anyone in Austin who hasn't
Speaker 1: lost a friend or family to the fighting. It affects
Speaker 1: us all, So it does, my boy, So it does.
Speaker 1: And if any of our warriors die to day, you
Speaker 1: can bet it'll affect everyone in this social experiment we
Speaker 1: call a city. But you didn't let me finish. The
Speaker 1: first thing that was truly toxic about my childhood knowledge
Speaker 1: of war is that it erased the other side. Our
Speaker 1: boys didn't do body counts, so there were seldom reports
Speaker 1: on how many civilians we killed, how many enemy fighters died.
Speaker 1: That information was out there, but you had to look hard.
Speaker 1: Most people ever did. Donald Ferris shrugged and then winced
Speaker 1: from the motion. It's easy to get people to care
Speaker 1: about their own soldiers, but if you want to stop wars,
Speaker 1: or at least make them less common, you've got to
Speaker 1: get people to give a shit about the soldiers on
Speaker 1: the other side. That, my young friend, is where your
Speaker 1: people are even worse than my own. You're close enough
Speaker 1: to the war to not just feel indifferent about these
Speaker 1: martyrs marching off to die. You actively want them to die.
Speaker 1: That's understandable, but it's also poisonous. When you dehumanize others,
Speaker 1: you become less human yourself. Many nodded, not sure of
Speaker 1: what to say. In my youth, Donald Ferris continued, the
Speaker 1: country that occupied this continent was the most powerful nation
Speaker 1: on earth. They held the keys to the deadliest military
Speaker 1: machine ever constructed. It was easy to get Americans to
Speaker 1: support involvement in a thousand little conflicts, because each only
Speaker 1: required a small fraction of the nation's military power and
Speaker 1: only risked a few American lives. But millions of people
Speaker 1: around the world died, women and children and old men
Speaker 1: and dumby young boys, from Yemen to Turkey to Guatemala.
Speaker 1: To justify those murders, Americans had to make those people
Speaker 1: less than human. And once they've done that, it wasn't
Speaker 1: such a great jump to do it to their neighbors.
Speaker 1: He stared up at the setting sun, and Manny saw
Speaker 1: tears in his eyes. What you're going to see tomorrow
Speaker 1: is the best attempt I've seen so far to bridge
Speaker 1: the empathy gap between a people and their folds. Look
Speaker 1: for your children's eyes to see the true magic of
Speaker 1: a forest. It's a storybook world for them. You look
Speaker 1: and see a tree. They see the wrinkled face of
Speaker 1: a wizard with arms outstretched to the sky. They see
Speaker 1: treasure and pebbles, They see a windy path that could
Speaker 1: lead to adventure, and they see you. They're fearless. Guide
Speaker 1: is this fascinating world? Find a forest near you and
Speaker 1: start exploring it. Discover the forest dot Org brought to
Speaker 1: you by the United States Force Service and the AD Council.
Speaker 1: This is Roxanne Gay, host of The Roxanne Gay Agenda,
Speaker 1: the Bad Frominist Podcast of Your Dreams. Now, what is
Speaker 1: the Roxanne Gay Agenda, you might ask, Well, It's a
Speaker 1: podcast where I'm going to speak my mind about what's
Speaker 1: on my mind, and that could be anything. Every week
Speaker 1: I will be in conversation with an interesting person who
Speaker 1: has something to say. We're going to talk about feminism, race,
Speaker 1: writing and books and art, food, pop culture, and yes, politics.
Speaker 1: I started each show with a recommendation. Really, I'm just
Speaker 1: going to share with you a movie or a book,
Speaker 1: or maybe some music or a comedy set, something that
Speaker 1: I really want you to be aware of and maybe
Speaker 1: engage with as well. Listen to the Luminary original podcast,
Speaker 1: The Roxanne Gay Agenda, The Bad Feminist Podcast of Your Dreams,
Speaker 1: every Tuesday on the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,
Speaker 1: or wherever you get your podcast. What grows in the
Speaker 1: forest trees, Sure no one else grows in the forest.
Speaker 1: Our imagination, our sense of wonder, and our family bonds
Speaker 1: grow too. Because when we disconnect from this and connect
Speaker 1: with this, we reconnect with each other. The forest is
Speaker 1: closer than you think, find a forest near you and
Speaker 1: start exploring. I Discover the Forest dot Org. Brought to
Speaker 1: you by the United States Forest Service and the ad Council,
Speaker 1: Chapter twenty three. Sasha Rolling Fuck trundled forward, crunching its
Speaker 1: way over the Texas Plains and leaving a carpet of
Speaker 1: flattened grass and broken trees in its wake. And Sasha Marian,
Speaker 1: situated in a little purple building atop one of the
Speaker 1: city's tallest spires, couldn't quite believe her eyes. In spite
Speaker 1: of its many wheels, the city didn't look like the
Speaker 1: kind of thing that should be able to move. It
Speaker 1: was as if the Empire State Building had taken up jogging.
Speaker 1: Sasha had been more or less alone since the War
Speaker 1: Council had concluded. She'd wanted to go up to the
Speaker 1: bar with Manny and Rowland, since they were the only
Speaker 1: people here she even sort of knew, but their conversation
Speaker 1: had seemed a private sort of thing. At first, she
Speaker 1: thought that her hosts had made an oversight in leaving
Speaker 1: her unwatched. Surely they wouldn't let someone who had been
Speaker 1: their enemy just a few days ago wander freely through
Speaker 1: their home. But as the hours went by, it became
Speaker 1: clear that's exactly what they'd done, so Sasha explored it
Speaker 1: had been exhilarating. Actually, every inch of the city was
Speaker 1: different and strange and new to her. Across the gantries
Speaker 1: there were numerous market stalls with fresh meat and produce.
Speaker 1: At first she recognized all the foods, but the higher
Speaker 1: and further she went, the stranger everything seemed. The meat
Speaker 1: went from beef and chicken to alligator, in, zebra and mammoth,
Speaker 1: and eventually something Sasha thought might be from an actual dinosaur.
Speaker 1: She was sure it was all lab grown, and the
Speaker 1: produce was certainly gene modified. At one point, she came
Speaker 1: across a kiosk filled with fruit that had been tweaked
Speaker 1: to take the shape of gigantic erect penises. There were
Speaker 1: penis watermelons, penis oranges, penis apples, and even bags of
Speaker 1: tiny penis shaped grapes. She knew she should have felt disgusted.
Speaker 1: Two weeks ago, Sasha would have been horrified, but somehow
Speaker 1: she just wasn't. She felt a vague sense of unease
Speaker 1: awkwardness at the sight of so many genitals, but after
Speaker 1: all she'd seen in the heavenly kingdom. It didn't exactly
Speaker 1: horrify her either, how could it. The fondel boats were
Speaker 1: another matter. The sight and the strange, musky, sweet smell
Speaker 1: that wafted out of the grinding, groping crowd inside it
Speaker 1: made her queasy. This is exactly as depraved as Pastor
Speaker 1: Mike said it would be, she thought. But she also thought,
Speaker 1: is this really worse than all that violence and death?
Speaker 1: Who were they hurting? The Lord? Said a shrill, small
Speaker 1: voice in the back of her mind. Why would God
Speaker 1: hate this and not the hanging of good people? Sasha wondered,
Speaker 1: Why would this make him angry but not the butchery
Speaker 1: inside that factory? You know what the Bible says, Sasha,
Speaker 1: There is no getting around that. The scriptures were clear.
Speaker 1: Well maybe they're wrong. Then maybe they've always been wrong,
Speaker 1: or maybe I read them wrong. Maybe they didn't say
Speaker 1: what I thought they said. It was odd, how freeing
Speaker 1: that thought was. She made her way past a fondo boat, and,
Speaker 1: for no reason beyond curiosity and the desire to stretch
Speaker 1: her muscles, Sasha started to climb upwards. The gantries that
Speaker 1: made up the bulk of rolling fox walking space were
Speaker 1: fairly easy for a human to traverse. They had high walls,
Speaker 1: so even the very drunk were unlikely to fall, and
Speaker 1: in spite of the city's clutter and bustle, its designers
Speaker 1: had done a good job of making two clear lanes
Speaker 1: for foot traffic. But the gantries only gave Sasha access
Speaker 1: to a handful of the strange, glittering buildings that dotted
Speaker 1: the city's rolling superstructure, so she left them and she
Speaker 1: climbed up. It was not an easy climb. Here and
Speaker 1: there she found small sections of ladder or not a
Speaker 1: rope to ease her passage. For the most part, though,
Speaker 1: she climbed aimed hand over hand up the criss crossed
Speaker 1: metal girders. She passed several buildings filled with people drinking
Speaker 1: and partying. Sasha didn't stop to talk. The climb was hard,
Speaker 1: but at least it allowed her to avoid awkward conversation
Speaker 1: with whatever manner of creatures lived in this place. By
Speaker 1: the time she reached the top of the spindle, Sasha's
Speaker 1: body was drenched in sweat and her arms were too
Speaker 1: sore to pull her up one more foot. She was
Speaker 1: grateful to whoever had decided to cap this spindle. With
Speaker 1: a tiny purple shack, and she was even more grateful
Speaker 1: that the shack appeared unoccupied. Sasha pulled herself inside and
Speaker 1: collapsed on the floor for a while. It was all
Speaker 1: she could do to regain her breath. She wondered, in
Speaker 1: a vague sort of way, if she'd just broken into
Speaker 1: someone's home. Nobody had warned her that there would be
Speaker 1: certain places she couldn't travel here, but no one had
Speaker 1: told her much of anything at all. After she'd arrived,
Speaker 1: Sasha took stock of her surroundings. The interior of the
Speaker 1: room was plush. The walls were carpeted in thick, cushiony velvet.
Speaker 1: The floor below her seemed to be some sort of
Speaker 1: black shag. There was a framed picture on one wall.
Speaker 1: Sasha didn't recognize the artist, but it looked like a
Speaker 1: cross section drawing of a handgun with fetuses as the bullets.
Speaker 1: The sight of it made her feel a bit sick,
Speaker 1: but there was also something about the art that drew
Speaker 1: her eyes. The center of the room was a low,
Speaker 1: flat table that appeared to be made entirely of mirrored glass.
Speaker 1: There was a pile of white powder on the center
Speaker 1: of the table, along with a strange, rectangular piece of
Speaker 1: green paper. Sasha picked up the paper and stared at it.
Speaker 1: It took her a moment to realize what it was. Money,
Speaker 1: said a voice from behind her. Oh, it used to
Speaker 1: be once upon a time. Sasha frose stiffened. She turned around,
Speaker 1: not sure what to expect, but with an apology already
Speaker 1: spilling out of her mouth. I'm sorry, sir, I didn't.
Speaker 1: Something in the man's smile and the relaxed slump of
Speaker 1: his shoulders made her stop talking. He stood in the
Speaker 1: doorway of the little building, just a few feet in
Speaker 1: front of her. She had no idea how he could
Speaker 1: have climbed up and in there without her hearing him.
Speaker 1: She didn't remember the man's name, but she recognized him
Speaker 1: from the war council. Those writhing snake tattoos identified him
Speaker 1: as clearly as a name tag. I'm she trailed off.
Speaker 1: He smiled at her. There was something about his eyes
Speaker 1: that seemed off wrong. She couldn't place it. His pupils
Speaker 1: were somehow different than they should have been when he spoke,
Speaker 1: though his voice was warm and friendly. You are Saschamarian,
Speaker 1: the girl who was brave enough to flee her home
Speaker 1: and family for the heavenly Kingdom, and then brave enough
Speaker 1: to leave it when she realized what it truly was.
Speaker 1: His head dipped down into a slight bow. I'm Jim Shannon.
Speaker 1: It's an honor to meet you, miss Marian. Jim squatted
Speaker 1: down on his haunches and dropped his arms in between
Speaker 1: his legs. It was a casual motion, but he executed
Speaker 1: it with almost mechanical precision. There was something to his
Speaker 1: movements that spoke of terrible potential energy, kinetic force just
Speaker 1: waiting to be unleashed. It's nice to meet you, she said,
Speaker 1: because what else could she say. Jim smile didn't change,
Speaker 1: but his eyes did. His pupils contracted and then changed
Speaker 1: shape from a circle to a spiraling rounded star. No,
Speaker 1: it's not, he said. That's not a lie to each other, Eh, Sasha,
Speaker 1: I'm weird. I move wrong. My eyes. As he spoke,
Speaker 1: his star pupils started to spin in a hypnotic spiral.
Speaker 1: Are wrong. They don't look human. I can hear your
Speaker 1: hotbeat elevate as we speak. I can smell codazol in
Speaker 1: your brain and elevated levels of blood glucose. I can
Speaker 1: see in your eyes that me saying this has made
Speaker 1: you even more nervous. Yes, she admitted, Yes, you're right,
Speaker 1: you scare me. That's perfectly normal, miss Marian. It is
Speaker 1: not an act of weakness to admit fear. Quite the opposite.
Speaker 1: You feel better now, don't you? She actually did. There
Speaker 1: was a queer sort of relief in admitting her fear
Speaker 1: and discomfort in this man thing's presence. I do feel better,
Speaker 1: she said. Why is that? Admitting fear is the first
Speaker 1: step to conquering it. You don't strike me as someone
Speaker 1: who wants to live in fear, miss Marian. You do
Speaker 1: strike me as someone who seeks control, strength, power over
Speaker 1: your own life. I, she sputtered, I don't. I don't know.
Speaker 1: A week ago, i'd have told you God was in
Speaker 1: control of my life. Sasha looked down at her lap,
Speaker 1: suddenly embarrassed. It wasn't very long ago, but it feels
Speaker 1: like a lifetime. It was so peaceful, just handing over control.
Speaker 1: Jim nodded and leaned his head forward a few inches.
Speaker 1: That didn't end well, though, did it. Sasha shook her head.
Speaker 1: You traveled to the heaven the Kingdom with a certain
Speaker 1: set of beliefs about the universe. Those beliefs met reality,
Speaker 1: Reality broke them into little pieces. There's no shame in that.
Speaker 1: It happens to all of us. Now you're a bit
Speaker 1: older and a few bits wiser. She looked up at him.
Speaker 1: His smile seemed somehow softer. Now she felt like opening up,
Speaker 1: confiding in this stranger. Sasha wondered if that was another
Speaker 1: aspect of his modifications, some alteration of his body chemists
Speaker 1: tree in physical appearance that allowed him to seem more
Speaker 1: familiar and trustworthy to her. She opened up anyway, I
Speaker 1: just don't know what to do now. I guess I
Speaker 1: could go home, but I don't think I was wrong
Speaker 1: in leaving home. I don't want a life in the
Speaker 1: American Federation. I know that. I just you don't know
Speaker 1: what's right, Jim finished, in a voice that was gentler
Speaker 1: than she would have guessed he was capable of sounding.
Speaker 1: She nodded as she struggled for her next words. I
Speaker 1: know I can't go back. I don't know where to
Speaker 1: go next. I don't have any money or really any
Speaker 1: useful skills, so I can't go to California or Cascadia.
Speaker 1: I doubt this place will take me. She gestured down
Speaker 1: at the rolling city below them, and even if they would,
Speaker 1: I don't really feel comfortable here either. Hmm. Jim nodded
Speaker 1: and leaned back. Perhaps he said, you should wear a
Speaker 1: less about where you want to end up and more
Speaker 1: about what you want to end up doing. I don't
Speaker 1: have any options, Sasha said, fighting down a rising panic
Speaker 1: that tickled the back of her throat. I didn't even
Speaker 1: finish high school. I've spent the last two years preparing
Speaker 1: to join the Kingdom. I don't know how to do
Speaker 1: anything useful. That's where you're wrong, Jim said, in a
Speaker 1: firm voice. You lied well enough to hide your intention
Speaker 1: from your parents and am fed law enforcement. You did
Speaker 1: that for years. Sasha wanted to argue that she hadn't lied,
Speaker 1: not according to Pastor Mike's definition of the word, but
Speaker 1: she stayed silent while he spoke. You escaped from one
Speaker 1: of the most fortified bodhas in the world, Jim continued,
Speaker 1: and you did useful work in a medical facility. Then
Speaker 1: you helped facilitate the escape of several prisoners from a
Speaker 1: Kingdom jail. You functioned effectively in a firefight and killed
Speaker 1: a trained soldier in hand to hand combat. Then you
Speaker 1: killed another man and stole a vehicle to aid your
Speaker 1: comrades in an escape. Am I missing anything? Sasha looked
Speaker 1: down again. She didn't speak. She felt bad about taking
Speaker 1: praise from murder, especially for Darrell's murder. She did, however,
Speaker 1: feel a tiny swell of pride at Jim's words. It
Speaker 1: was immediately accompanied by a flood of guilt. Killing is
Speaker 1: not something to be proud of, she said, Oh, I disagree,
Speaker 1: Jim chuckled. Killing is a highly technical skill, and you've
Speaker 1: proven yourself a talented amateur. With some training and a
Speaker 1: spot of chrome, you could really be something. He trailed off.
Speaker 1: Sasha was quiet for a moment. She looked into Jim's
Speaker 1: eyes and tried to read something in them that proved
Speaker 1: a fool's Errand there was nothing in those orbs but
Speaker 1: cool confidence, And even that might be false. What did
Speaker 1: any gesture or look mean from a man who could
Speaker 1: control every aspect of his body right down to his pupils.
Speaker 1: I don't want to get better at killing, she told him.
Speaker 1: I don't want to fill my body with unnatural things.
Speaker 1: Just thinking about it makes me feel ill. And yet
Speaker 1: Jim said, what do you mean? And yet, she asked,
Speaker 1: And yet that thought intrigues you too. It's no use,
Speaker 1: hadn't it? I can taste deceit. Sasha shuddered a little
Speaker 1: at that, but she couldn't deny that he was right.
Speaker 1: As much as the idea repulsed her, she had spent
Speaker 1: too much time hourless to not crave power. I'm not
Speaker 1: looking to push you into anything, Sasha, but I would
Speaker 1: like to provide you with a unique opportunity. What do
Speaker 1: you mean, she asked. He smiled, plopped down on his butt,
Speaker 1: and swung his legs in to sit cross le get
Speaker 1: on the shag carpet. Jim stuck a finger into the
Speaker 1: thick black fibers of the carpet and started tugging at them.
Speaker 1: It was an idle, nervous gesture, and Sasha found it
Speaker 1: oddly endearing. Part of her suspected that had been his goal.
Speaker 1: I mean that I would be willing to take you
Speaker 1: on as a project. A project, he nodded. My organization
Speaker 1: has access to skilled surgeons, military grade agmatics, and vat
Speaker 1: growing organs. I'll front the bill and I'll train you,
Speaker 1: and in return, you'll work for me forever. She asked.
Speaker 1: Jim laughed. She felt a little annoyed by that, and
Speaker 1: it must have shown on her face because he stopped. Sorry, sorry,
Speaker 1: he said, It's just that'd be dead slavery. You must
Speaker 1: not know this, but helped kill the last country that
Speaker 1: lived on this land in that sort of thing. So
Speaker 1: how much time would I owe you, Sasha asked, five years,
Speaker 1: he said. Sasha's heart trembled with excitement at the offer.
Speaker 1: When she thought about the way the adrenaline had coursed
Speaker 1: through her during the fight in the clinic, she wanted
Speaker 1: to say yes, But when she thought about Darrell bleeding
Speaker 1: out next to his car, the shame inside her overwhelmed
Speaker 1: everything else. Sasha knew she couldn't handle more weights like
Speaker 1: that on her conscience. I don't want to kill people,
Speaker 1: she said in a tiny voice. Shame dripped from every syllable.
Speaker 1: That's fine, Jim said, his grin widening. We always need medics.
Speaker 1: You've shown an aptitude for that already. I have a
Speaker 1: feeling you'll take well to combat engineering. There's plenty for
Speaker 1: you to do without pulling a trigger. If I work
Speaker 1: for you, Sasha said, I have a feeling I won't
Speaker 1: be able to avoid pulling triggers. None entirely, Jim shrugged.
Speaker 1: But any shooting you do would be an immediate it
Speaker 1: self defense, and you'd have the right to refuse an
Speaker 1: emissions that violate your moral code. I know that's important
Speaker 1: to you. The way he said that last bit set
Speaker 1: the hackles on her neck. Arise, Is it not important
Speaker 1: to you? She asked, morality? I mean? He swung his
Speaker 1: hands out to the side, palms up in a vaguely
Speaker 1: Buddhic pose. When I was a young man, not much
Speaker 1: older than yourself, I knew a lot of gallant men
Speaker 1: who claimed to live by codes of honor. Such things
Speaker 1: were fashionable in the warrior culture of a Diyan empire.
Speaker 1: None of those codes stopped the men I knew from
Speaker 1: serving that great beast we called a state. When you
Speaker 1: see enough good moral men enable war crimes, you stop
Speaker 1: seeing value in the term morality. So what matters to you,
Speaker 1: Sasha asked, what do you believe in change? Miss Marian?
Speaker 1: He smiled, revealing rows of pearly white teeth, the snake
Speaker 1: tattoos on his chest and shoulders, writhed in excitement, I
Speaker 1: believe in change. I grew up in a time when
Speaker 1: the climate changed and my home became a deadly broiler.
Speaker 1: Politics changed, and democracy became a dictatorship of capital. For
Speaker 1: a time, I believed in the promises of change handed
Speaker 1: out by progressive politicians and scent of old revolutionaries. But
Speaker 1: every one of them was either co opted by the
Speaker 1: system or killed by it. He shrugged and cast his
Speaker 1: eyes down to the carpet for a while, just a
Speaker 1: moment his mask slipped, Sasha saw a deep, yawning pit
Speaker 1: of despair in the tight lines at the edge of
Speaker 1: his lips, and the subtle twitch of muscles below his
Speaker 1: left eye. It passed, and a black velvet smile took
Speaker 1: its place. Then I met a man who showed me
Speaker 1: the way. Nothing new could grow on this continent until
Speaker 1: the weeds of the old were pulled out by the
Speaker 1: root and tossed into the compost pile of history. So
Speaker 1: he said, forget the old debates about what system should
Speaker 1: replace capitalism. Kill the state, and the seeds of a
Speaker 1: OUs the new worlds will sprout on its corpse. You've
Speaker 1: seen two of those sprouts already, Sasha shook her head.
Speaker 1: If you're referring to the heavenly kingdom, it's a nightmare.
Speaker 1: The old Us can't have been worse than that, Jim shrugged.
Speaker 1: Depends on your perspective. I suppose tell miss Sasha, you
Speaker 1: left the Amphid, the old u SA's most direct successor state.
Speaker 1: Why was that? Because it's a soulless pit, She said,
Speaker 1: the words almost leaping from her throat. Jim smiled at that.
Speaker 1: This isn't though, is it? He gestured out at the
Speaker 1: city of wheels below them. No, Sasha said, whatever else
Speaker 1: it was, rolling fuck was not soulless. Nada is the
Speaker 1: Navajo nation, Jim said, or Cascadia the black Stone Nation.
Speaker 1: Even the moments are up to some interesting things these days,
Speaker 1: one faction at least. So which do you believe in?
Speaker 1: Who do you fight for? He grinned again, Night the child,
Speaker 1: As I told you, I fight for change, to cast
Speaker 1: down the ossified bones of the old world and make
Speaker 1: space for the new. I owe allegiance to no national
Speaker 1: god save perhaps Lady Airis, who he smiled. A bit
Speaker 1: of smugness leached into the expression. She could see it
Speaker 1: clear as day right around his eyes. It should have
Speaker 1: repelled her more than it did. Heiris was the Greek
Speaker 1: goddess of discord, back when people cared about what the
Speaker 1: Greeks believed. She set the spark that lit the Trojan walk.
Speaker 1: I know it's a bit sillier reaching back to that
Speaker 1: old mythology, but I can't help myself. There's something about
Speaker 1: those old gods that calls to me. I can identify
Speaker 1: with them. He leaned in. There was an eagerness to
Speaker 1: his posture, his tone, his eyes. The snakes jerked and
Speaker 1: spun on his muscled chest and arms. I'm offering you
Speaker 1: a chance to join us on Olympus. Dear Sasha, you've
Speaker 1: spent your time in worship. It's time to embrace your
Speaker 1: own godhead, lee of your antique books behind, and rewrite
Speaker 1: the world with your will. I don't know if that's
Speaker 1: what I want, Sasha said in a still small voice.
Speaker 1: She tried to ignore how much part of her ached
Speaker 1: for what he promised. The thought of killing again nauseated
Speaker 1: her as much as it excited her. But the thought
Speaker 1: of having power, the kind of power she'd seen Roland
Speaker 1: exercise that was intoxicating. She hated how badly she'd started
Speaker 1: to want it. Well, you don't have to decide now.
Speaker 1: Jim shrugged his shoulders and gave an amiable smile. The
Speaker 1: floor rumbled underneath them. There was a loud clattering wine
Speaker 1: as the whole structure of Rolling Fuck came to a
Speaker 1: slow stop. Jim waited for the scrunching noise to cease
Speaker 1: and said, come and watch what we do today, then
Speaker 1: make you call Rowland. Dawn broke just as Rolling Fuck
Speaker 1: pulled to a long, slow stop by the shore of
Speaker 1: Lake Wago. The city had taken the long way around
Speaker 1: the reservoir, which had added at least an hour to
Speaker 1: their journey, but also put a sizeable water barrier between
Speaker 1: Rolling Fuck and the advancing forces of the Heavenly Kingdom.
Speaker 1: It had been a tight fit at several points, and
Speaker 1: Roland had enjoyed watching the wheeled city crunch over several
Speaker 1: abandoned homes in many a street lamp. But eventually the
Speaker 1: pilots and navigators had found a suitably large public park
Speaker 1: and brought Rolling Fuck to rest there. It's a nice sunrise,
Speaker 1: Manny said. The kids stood next to Rowland on a
Speaker 1: wooden deck built onto the side of the main roller Skofucker.
Speaker 1: Mike had assured them this spot provided the best advantage
Speaker 1: point to watch the rising sun. It looked like he'd
Speaker 1: been right on that. The sky around them was a
Speaker 1: heavy blend of red and orange that brought up fragmented
Speaker 1: memories of my ties and fireballs and Roland's head. Clouds
Speaker 1: clustered at the top of the horizon ripe to bursting
Speaker 1: with the color and light of the new days sun.
Speaker 1: Roland nodded. Yeah, the shame no one who lives here
Speaker 1: gets to see it. Manny said, I've never seen the
Speaker 1: city this empty. Roland looked over at his young friend.
Speaker 1: The boy had seen a lot for his age, and
Speaker 1: Roland could see how much it pained him. Sorrow had
Speaker 1: assent all its own. The plunging levels of nora panephren
Speaker 1: and serotonin brought out the sharp stink of cordozol in
Speaker 1: the greasy odor of opioids. Lurking just below those smells
Speaker 1: was the odd, spicy tinge of the I L eighteen protein.
Speaker 1: Roland could almost hear it weaken the valves of Manny's heart.
Speaker 1: I imagine this sucks extra much for you. I mean,
Speaker 1: you've been where they are right twice, Manny said. Roland
Speaker 1: nodded again, exactly recall, he admitted. But I expect I
Speaker 1: had something to do with the first time Manny looked
Speaker 1: over to Roland, chemically, it was clear the kid was
Speaker 1: battling a maluge of sadness, trauma, and anxiety. His actual thoughts, though,
Speaker 1: were just as hidden from Roland as they would be
Speaker 1: from any stock human, perhaps more so. There were moments
Speaker 1: when Roland feared he was losing the ability to read
Speaker 1: human emotions or even display them properly on his face.
Speaker 1: Was that look you've given me? He asked? Finally, what
Speaker 1: do you mean? I can't tell what a look on
Speaker 1: your face means, Roland explained, And I'm curious. Are you
Speaker 1: angry at me? Manny shrugged, and then he sighed. His
Speaker 1: shoulders slumped, his head drooped forward and down just a bit. No,
Speaker 1: he said, I'm not angry. What would I even be
Speaker 1: angry about? If you can't remember what you did back?
Speaker 1: Then are you even the same person who did those things?
Speaker 1: And even if you are, maybe you were doing the
Speaker 1: right thing. I assume someone was at some point in
Speaker 1: that fucking mess of a war. Maybe everyone was, Roland offered.
Speaker 1: I know the heavenly Kingdom think what they're doing is right.
Speaker 1: Manny said, I also don't give a shitting dick what
Speaker 1: they think they're murderers. They can all sit and spin.
Speaker 1: You're confident in me murdering the lot of them? Is
Speaker 1: there anything to do? Then? I'm confident it's better than
Speaker 1: letting them win, Manny said. Roland nodded quietly and stared
Speaker 1: out at the rising sun. The red had faded and
Speaker 1: the orange had grown rider He could see the shape
Speaker 1: of the sun behind the clouds missed rose off the
Speaker 1: field in front of the man. Across the lake, a
Speaker 1: low light fog rolled in over what appeared to be
Speaker 1: an old golf course. You're probably right about that, Roland said,
Speaker 1: But where does it end. It ends when they're beaten
Speaker 1: and Austin is safe. Manny's words were forceful, but he
Speaker 1: looked down and away from Roland when he spoke. You
Speaker 1: know that's not true, Roland said. I forget my own
Speaker 1: name a lot of the time, and I still know
Speaker 1: you're full of it killing these fox buys Austin time,
Speaker 1: and probably not a lot of it. There are still
Speaker 1: millions of guns and millions of piste off desperate people
Speaker 1: in this ragged chunk of country. So what are you saying, Roland?
Speaker 1: It'd be better to just let the one place around
Speaker 1: here that isn't terrible get eaten by darkness, no, Roland said,
Speaker 1: but read the writing on the damn wall this place.
Speaker 1: He waved a hand out in a gesture that encompassed
Speaker 1: the whole horizon is fucked. Don't stay here and die
Speaker 1: with it. Manny crossed his arms in front of himself
Speaker 1: and leaned forward onto the railing of the deck. His
Speaker 1: head slumped into his hands, and he was quiet for
Speaker 1: a while. Roland knew the army of the Heavenly Kingdom
Speaker 1: was less than forty miles distant. The scent of that
Speaker 1: vast ramshackle horde had grown more prominent over the last
Speaker 1: few minutes. His nose took in the stink of diesel,
Speaker 1: the ozone odor of discharging batteries, and the cumulative reek
Speaker 1: of hundreds of vehicles worth of engine oil. Behind those
Speaker 1: prominent smells lurked the foul gangren, a stench of ten
Speaker 1: thousand men, sweating fear and stress out of every pore.
Speaker 1: Roland looked down over the deck and onto the yellow
Speaker 1: grass that led up to the shores of the lake.
Speaker 1: The warriors of Rolling Fock had started to assemble themselves. There,
Speaker 1: a large group of men and women had started to
Speaker 1: unpack dozens of quadrafracts. The four legged robots had been
Speaker 1: built by Boston Dynamics back before the fall of the
Speaker 1: Old US. They'd been meant to ferry men and equipment
Speaker 1: up steep Afghan mountain sides. Roland stared at them, and
Speaker 1: he stalked through the lab, a razor sharp machete in
Speaker 1: one hand and a machine pistol in the other. The
Speaker 1: air reeked of blood ahead of him. He could smell
Speaker 1: the fierce weat wafting off two engineers as they hid
Speaker 1: beneath an overturned metal table. Pieces of robotic equipment were
Speaker 1: scattered on the floor. Roland reached out his senses and
Speaker 1: felt that these were the last two people alive in
Speaker 1: the facility. He stepped forward, swinging his blade in an
Speaker 1: arc that he knew would end in flesh. Roland shook
Speaker 1: his head and pulled himself out of the past. The
Speaker 1: flashes of memory were growing more frequent. Guilt came with them.
Speaker 1: It took some effort to force his mind to focus
Speaker 1: again on the world around them. Roland looked back out
Speaker 1: at the mustering yard. Warriors dawned armor, a fantastic array
Speaker 1: of old fashioned polished steel plate mail, ultra modern powered
Speaker 1: body armor, antique flack vests, and a significant number of costumes.
Speaker 1: He watched a man in armor that mixed the aesthetic
Speaker 1: of a polish winged hussar with an Imperial stormtrooper help
Speaker 1: a woman in a crop top Neil green GIEI suit
Speaker 1: as she locked a pair of rocket launchers onto the
Speaker 1: flanks of one of the four leg at robots. Over
Speaker 1: to his left, another group of warriors had started to
Speaker 1: assemble the city's vehicle pool. Ramps had descended from garages
Speaker 1: in the bellies of the rollers. A slow, steady stream
Speaker 1: of armored vehicles motored their way down the ramps and
Speaker 1: into the ragged lines on the field. The bulk of
Speaker 1: rolling Fox vehicles were either modified a PCs or armored
Speaker 1: motorcycles sporting portable field guns or automatic grenade launchers on
Speaker 1: side cars. There were tactical arguments for the use of
Speaker 1: such vehicles in open field combat, of course, but Rowland
Speaker 1: suspected they had mainly been picked because they were fun
Speaker 1: to drive. Almost every vehicle's engine had been souped up
Speaker 1: well beyond any potential battlefield benefit. Most of them also
Speaker 1: had nitrous oxide tanks, although Roland suspected those were more
Speaker 1: for huffing than they were for speed. Where did they
Speaker 1: get all this stuff, Manny asked Roland. I had no idea,
Speaker 1: Roland said, But when the old government fell left behind
Speaker 1: a lot of equipment, basses and basses full of mothballed ordinance.
Speaker 1: I guess as these guys got in early before the
Speaker 1: rush and grabbed what they could good. At that moment,
Speaker 1: Roland caught sasha scent moving down one of the spindles
Speaker 1: above the main roller. His hind brain guessed she was
Speaker 1: headed to the deck he and Manny occupied. Roland couldn't
Speaker 1: smell Jim, who was good at staying hidden, but he
Speaker 1: knew that Sasha couldn't have known where they were on
Speaker 1: her own. That meant Jim had likely sniffed Manny out
Speaker 1: and made the same assumption about Roland's location that Rowland
Speaker 1: had made about Jim's. It wasn't long before the sliding
Speaker 1: metal door slid open and Jim and Sasha walked out
Speaker 1: onto the deck. Jim was in his familiar battle gear,
Speaker 1: his blood red chaps almost shone in the blinding light
Speaker 1: of the morning sun. He had a smug self satisfied
Speaker 1: grin and gigantic pupils that spoke of recent drug use.
Speaker 1: Beside him, Sasha looked disheveled and exhausted but jittery. He
Speaker 1: could smell the coffee wafting from her pores. Hey fuck nuts,
Speaker 1: Roland said, Hey, Sasha. She looked confused for a moment.
Speaker 1: Jim just nodded and said, hey, shit bird, Hey manny
Speaker 1: Manny waved vaguely at them, without turning his head to
Speaker 1: eat them. He continued to look out at the army
Speaker 1: assembling in the field. It's a pretty cool showdown there,
Speaker 1: Roland said. I kind of wish I had some dissociatives
Speaker 1: and maybe a blunt. Now would be the time for one.
Speaker 1: Ah she, Jim said, Just so happens, I got both.
Speaker 1: He stepped up alongside Rowland, extended his full arm, and
Speaker 1: then tapped his left index finger to the back of
Speaker 1: his right hand. The tip of that finger detached and
Speaker 1: rolled up onto his knuckle. A line of white powder
Speaker 1: poured out onto the back of Jim's other hand. He
Speaker 1: offered it to Roland. Sure, Roland said, and railed the line.
Speaker 1: Ketamine wasn't Roland's favoritest of drugs. He preferred m x
Speaker 1: C if he was going to snort a dissociati event.
Speaker 1: In all honesty, a big bottle of d x M
Speaker 1: heavy cough syrup mixed with vodka was even more his speed.
Speaker 1: But hey, drugs was drugs. Once Roland had finished, Jim
Speaker 1: poured out another line and offered it to Manny. No thanks,
Speaker 1: said the fixer. It's pretty good stuff, Roland said, in
Speaker 1: a helpful tone. Ketamine goes well with unspeakable violence. Might
Speaker 1: be fun to watch the battle that decides the future
Speaker 1: of your people from inside a cahole. Manny looked defended.
Speaker 1: Roland shrugged. He glanced at Jim, who gave him an
Speaker 1: I don't know why you're looking at me. Look, I'll
Speaker 1: try some, Sasha said, I mean, fuck it, why not?
Speaker 1: It was a little cute how she stumbled over the fuck.
Speaker 1: Roland found it in daring. It seemed Manny did too.
Speaker 1: The cocktail of dopamine, testosterone, at oxytocin that waffed it
Speaker 1: off and made his feelings as clear as day. Hell yeah, girl,
Speaker 1: Jim said, with an exaggerated Southern twang. Get all over
Speaker 1: here and rail this. That means snorted, Roland said, helpfully.
Speaker 1: Sasha approached Jim's arm. She looked him in the eye,
Speaker 1: then looked over to Roland, and last to Manny. Then
Speaker 1: she stared down at the powder as if she was
Speaker 1: hoping it would say something to her. It didn't, but
Speaker 1: she leaned in any way and snorted about half of
Speaker 1: it before she sneezed and then wretched, and then staggered
Speaker 1: to the side of the deck and vomited over the side.
Speaker 1: Jim and Roland laughed in your joy. Manny, being a
Speaker 1: good person, moved to hold her hair back and help
Speaker 1: her deal with the pukey aftershocks. While the humans engaged
Speaker 1: with their frailties, Roland and Jim did a couple more
Speaker 1: lines each. That was terrible, Sasha said. A few minutes later, heah,
Speaker 1: Jim chuckled, It takes some getting used to, and then
Speaker 1: the door slid open again. Skullfucker. Mike walked out onto
Speaker 1: the deck. Boy ass hats, he called out, We're about
Speaker 1: to war up. You should get down to the field
Speaker 1: as app if you want to see the face taking
Speaker 1: what Manny asked, Excuse me, Sasha said. At the same time,
Speaker 1: Mike just laughed and clapped them both on the shoulders.
Speaker 1: I'll explain down in the field. Get a move on.
Speaker 1: He nodded to Sasha and added, there's a puke wash
Speaker 1: station just inside into the right, next to the bathroom. Right.
Speaker 1: Jim rubbed his hands together in excitement. Why don't you
Speaker 1: kids go roll with skull fucking Mike. I've got to
Speaker 1: get rolland up to my mechanics so we can suit
Speaker 1: him up. Roland didn't like the eagerness in Jim's eyes
Speaker 1: or the excitement in his voice when he said that
Speaker 1: there was something indecent about it. But a promise was
Speaker 1: a promise, so Roland nodded and gave Manny a little
Speaker 1: squeeze on the shoulder. I'll see you soon, buddy, This
Speaker 1: won't take long, Manny. Schoolfucker Mike Manny asked as the
Speaker 1: chromed man led them through the gantries and towards the elevator.
Speaker 1: What exactly is so special about Roland? I mean, he's
Speaker 1: a nice guy, but what makes him so much scarier
Speaker 1: than the other chromed folks like you and Topaz? What
Speaker 1: do you know about Roland's past? Mike asked? In return,
Speaker 1: very little Manny admitted he doesn't seem to remember much
Speaker 1: I've sussed out that he was in the army back
Speaker 1: before the revolution. He's talked about fighting in Turkey, but
Speaker 1: also in Dallas and Denver and a bunch of other
Speaker 1: American cities. Mike nodded, Yeah, we met in Dallas back
Speaker 1: before it was Muerta. I had just been dishonorably discharged
Speaker 1: from the Marine Corps for He frowned, shook his head,
Speaker 1: and continued, it doesn't matter what. For I was broke
Speaker 1: and I had a body fellow, Uncle Sam's chrome. He
Speaker 1: wanted it back. I wound up taking shelter in the
Speaker 1: White Rock Commune. Roland was there too. He was pretty
Speaker 1: political back in those days, always quoting baccoon In and
Speaker 1: Asealon and Red John. Did you guys actually know Red John?
Speaker 1: Sasha asked. Up until that point, she'd walked quietly in
Speaker 1: the rear of their little group. The few times Manny
Speaker 1: had glanced back, she'd had her head down, stuck in
Speaker 1: her own little world. But now she was alert and engaged.
Speaker 1: Many guessed it was hearing the name of the famous
Speaker 1: revolutionary that had done it. That's odd, he thought. I
Speaker 1: never met the guy, Mike said, But Rowland did. He
Speaker 1: was in real deep with that whole circle. So was
Speaker 1: that weird fucker Jim. I was tight with Roland, but
Speaker 1: I've never gotten to the political side of things. I
Speaker 1: liked smashing stuff and they needed stuff smashers. How does
Speaker 1: this relate to why Rowland's Rowland? Manny asked, Well, I've
Speaker 1: known old Roland for a while mag when he was
Speaker 1: still fully himself. He was always cage about his background.
Speaker 1: But we had our theories, and mine was that he'd
Speaker 1: been part of Project Orange. What was that, Sasha asked,
Speaker 1: Holy fuck? Manny said he'd heard of Project Orange, although
Speaker 1: he wasn't surprised Sasha hadn't. The am FED was the
Speaker 1: closest descendant of the old United States. They'd have kept
Speaker 1: most of the bad stuff out of their history books. Well,
Speaker 1: you know, Mike said. Through the twenties, the military struggled
Speaker 1: with declining enlistment numbers. All the little resource wars climate
Speaker 1: change sparked created a need for a capable, nimble force
Speaker 1: that could project power without requiring a public commitment of force.
Speaker 1: So back in the late thirties, the U. S Military
Speaker 1: started fucking hard with gene editing tools and bio mods.
Speaker 1: At first, it was just basic upgrades to select combat units.
Speaker 1: Early versions of the healing suites, y'all both have now.
Speaker 1: Then they moved on to carbon fiber laced bones, bullet
Speaker 1: resistant skin, nanohaling suites. The end result was Project Orange,
Speaker 1: the best warriors in the whole military loaded down with
Speaker 1: experimental self adapting, neural and physiological upgrades. Yeah, man he added,
Speaker 1: it was a real success, right till they wiped out
Speaker 1: a whole city. Schofucker. Mike nodded and looked back to Sasha.
Speaker 1: He's talking about the Battle of Inserlik. I've heard of that,
Speaker 1: Sasha said. A US air strike hit a giant munition's cache.
Speaker 1: Like ten thousand people died. Schofucker. Mike gave a noncommittal grunt.
Speaker 1: There was one version of the story, he said. The
Speaker 1: story I heard, the story everyone told back then, is
Speaker 1: that it was Project Orange. They blew up a city.
Speaker 1: Sasha asked, they didn't blow it up. Manny said, they
Speaker 1: just butchered everyone, mostly in hand to hand combat. The
Speaker 1: DARPA guys miscalculated. Mike nodded to Manny. They entirely revamped
Speaker 1: the endocrine systems of these soldiers and made them immune
Speaker 1: to exhaustion and gave them perfect situational awareness, but it
Speaker 1: also made bloodshed. He trailed off and frowned while he
Speaker 1: searched for his next word, A dick dive. So what
Speaker 1: happened to Project Orange, Sasha asked, Well, said Mike, The
Speaker 1: scientists did with scientists do. They refined things. They revised
Speaker 1: their hypotheses and tweaked their creations until the Joint chiefs
Speaker 1: had another job for the Orange team. They must have
Speaker 1: done well for a while, and Sir Luke was thirty
Speaker 1: nine and no one heard shipped from them until forty one,
Speaker 1: when they hit that protest in Denver, six hundred dead,
Speaker 1: Manny said, reciting the facts he'd memorized a half dozen
Speaker 1: times during his elementary education, including a sitting senator. They
Speaker 1: reached the lift doors, which slid open once they got close.
Speaker 1: Sasha and Manny stepped in first, and Mike came after them.
Speaker 1: He fiddled with the control screen on the wall for
Speaker 1: a moment. I'm just making sure this thing is set
Speaker 1: to normal human speeds. We don't want any more puke
Speaker 1: from yall today, Mike winked at Sasha. As the lift
Speaker 1: doors closed, there was a soft clump sound, and Manny
Speaker 1: felt the lift descend, So yeah, schoolfucker, Mike continued. The
Speaker 1: President deployed the Orange Team against a fortified camp that
Speaker 1: had blocked off access to most of downtown Denver. They
Speaker 1: cleared out the camp sure enough. After the bloodbath, some
Speaker 1: hackers with a Jesture collective took close to a terabyte
Speaker 1: out of the Pentagon servers. It contained a few files
Speaker 1: on Project Orange and a partly redacted report on the
Speaker 1: Insurlic massacre. And then Sasha asked, Mike shrugged. Then they disappeared.
Speaker 1: They weren't used during the revolution, and they'd have been
Speaker 1: pretty damn handy for the old US. At a couple
Speaker 1: of points midway through the war, we recovered some intel
Speaker 1: that they'd been wiped out some terrible accident in orbit.
Speaker 1: Only only Roland Manny said softly, yep, skullfucker. Mike nodded.
Speaker 1: That was certainly my suspicion, still is, But the fucker's
Speaker 1: never confirmed it or denied it, not that he remembers
Speaker 1: now Anyway. The lift reached the ground with a gentle bump.
Speaker 1: Its doors slid open to reveal an army six hundred
Speaker 1: people in three large clumps out by the shore of
Speaker 1: Lake Waco. To the left was the city's vehicle pool.
Speaker 1: In the center where the infantry but decked in a
Speaker 1: ridiculous melange of medieval weaponry, small arms and handheld field artillery.
Speaker 1: And then to the right were the quadrifracts. The sight
Speaker 1: of them took Manny's breath away. There were well over
Speaker 1: a hundred of the strange horse like robots. Most of
Speaker 1: them were still being fussed over by the riders, having
Speaker 1: bolts tightened, weapons belted on to their chassis, or, in
Speaker 1: a few cases old timy leather saddle strapped onto their backs.
Speaker 1: Manny saw one saddle with what looked like a large
Speaker 1: purple dildo attached to it. The quadrifract riders were the
Speaker 1: most uniform group of warriors on the field. While rolling
Speaker 1: Fox infantry wore everything from Roman legionary armor to bikinies
Speaker 1: made of bullets, the cavalry wore nothing. Even from here
Speaker 1: he could see that every nipple in the group was
Speaker 1: as hard as diamond. They were all covered in the
Speaker 1: same sort of led tattoos that Jim wore, but where
Speaker 1: his took the form of ever writhing snakes, theirs appeared
Speaker 1: in blotches of gray black static all up and down
Speaker 1: their bodies. What are they, Sasha asked, voicing Manny's thoughts too.
Speaker 1: The elite skullfucker, Mike said. The best of the city's
Speaker 1: warriors real tough motherfucker's mostly former soldiers who logmened their
Speaker 1: government issue upgrades way back in the day. Some of
Speaker 1: em have five or ten thousand hours of combat experience
Speaker 1: stored in their bodies. Why aren't you out there, Mannie asked, Eh,
Speaker 1: he grunted. Quadfracts make my ass look big. Besides, Tobez
Speaker 1: is a sniper. She keeps to the rear and I
Speaker 1: keep to her. It's not as fun as fuckin shoot
Speaker 1: up at the fronty front. His lips curled up into
Speaker 1: a wistful smile. But we all got to grow up sometime.
Speaker 1: While Sasha and Manny gawkeed, the main roller's other lift descended.
Speaker 1: The doors opened just twenty feet to their right. Nanni
Speaker 1: Yazzi was the first one out. She moved slowly. Some
Speaker 1: of that was surely due to her advanced age, but
Speaker 1: there was also a note of ritual to her movements.
Speaker 1: It was something in the arc of her spine, the
Speaker 1: cadence of her step, the way she held her head.
Speaker 1: The enormous gold bladed knife in her hand didn't hurt either.
Speaker 1: Behind her walk the citizens of Rolling Fuck. There were
Speaker 1: around fifty of them in the lift, but as that
Speaker 1: group walked forward, ropes and ladders began to roll out
Speaker 1: from all around the enormous wheeled city. Within a matter
Speaker 1: of minutes, hundreds and hundreds of people had descended. More
Speaker 1: continued to disgorge from the lifts. Under the main roller
Speaker 1: and the rear roller. The riders had all formed into
Speaker 1: ordered ranks. They stood at something very much like a
Speaker 1: military attention. It was the only time he'd seen posthumans
Speaker 1: do anything in an orderly fashion. Nanni Yazi stood in
Speaker 1: front of the cavalry, and the human civilians clustered behind
Speaker 1: her in a big semicircle. The other warriors gathered behind them.
Speaker 1: Mike maneuver their little group to a hill that overlooked
Speaker 1: the whole scene. It took almost twenty minutes for the
Speaker 1: entire city to gather. What are they doing, sculp fucker, Mike,
Speaker 1: Sasha asked, only stumbling a bit over the curse word
Speaker 1: and his name. This is what I wanted you to see,
Speaker 1: he replied, She's about to take their faces. Rowland the
Speaker 1: process of getting ready for war. The bile rise up
Speaker 1: in his gut. That was curious. Roland's stomach didn't still
Speaker 1: produce bile, not the same kind of violet had when
Speaker 1: he was human. It had been years since his nervous
Speaker 1: system had been natural enough to respond to anxiety with
Speaker 1: any kind of physical symptom, and yet there it was.
Speaker 1: The bile, or the hallucination of bile, curdled at the
Speaker 1: bottom of his stomach while Jim's men strapped him into
Speaker 1: the murder suit. The armor they'd constructed was altogether different
Speaker 1: from the powered armor he'd faced a few days ago
Speaker 1: in Dallas. It was also different from what little he
Speaker 1: remembered of the armor he'd warned as an American soldier.
Speaker 1: That made sense, of course. Roland's wet waar got better
Speaker 1: with time and experience. Gear did not age so well.
Speaker 1: He watched while Sardar bolted a gauntlet into place over
Speaker 1: his left forearm. In hand, he could tell it was
Speaker 1: made of boron nitride carbon tubes, but the weapon's blister
Speaker 1: carried a sextette of tiny rockets that were not familiar
Speaker 1: to him. Sar, what are these things? A smile split
Speaker 1: the little man's dark handsome features. Scatter rocklets, he said
Speaker 1: with relish. Each of them contains twelve guided solid fuel warheads.
Speaker 1: The left hand or all anti personnel built to blow
Speaker 1: up big the right hand rockets. He tapped the second countlet,
Speaker 1: which sat on the work table next to him. Those
Speaker 1: pack a tiny bronze dart. One will penetrate a Leopard
Speaker 1: Mark five's front armor. No problem. Roland's side and looked
Speaker 1: around at the Workshop of Death that Jim had flown
Speaker 1: out here. From the outside, it had looked a bit
Speaker 1: like a shipping container, but painted a glossy white. Its
Speaker 1: edges were rounded and smooth, and the whole thing looked
Speaker 1: slick enough that it could have been an apple product.
Speaker 1: Inside the box was wall to wall weaponry in armor
Speaker 1: Jim's personal stash. Roland couldn't actually name any of the
Speaker 1: weapons inside. Most were similar enough to older weapons systems
Speaker 1: that he could make an educated guess as to their capabilities,
Speaker 1: but there were strange new things on the walls that
Speaker 1: he'd never seen before. Jim sat in a comfy chair
Speaker 1: at the rear of the workshop and watched Sardar work
Speaker 1: while he sipped Scotch out of an enormous ram's horn.
Speaker 1: So this so, is this like your man cave or what?
Speaker 1: Roland asked him. Jim took a deep gulp and then smiled.
Speaker 1: I find it relaxes me, he said. I spent a
Speaker 1: lot of time carried in this collection over the years.
Speaker 1: I spent a lot of time working on that suit, too,
Speaker 1: So don't fuck it up. Something tingled at the back
Speaker 1: of Roland's mind. The suit had clearly been built to
Speaker 1: his specifications. That suggested Jim had been planning this for
Speaker 1: a while, but Roland had been retired at Cameltoe until
Speaker 1: very recently. So how hey, man, I need your port
Speaker 1: Sardar said. The squat mechanic held up a pair of
Speaker 1: fiber optic cables that terminated in peculiar boxy plugs. Not
Speaker 1: unlike old ethernet cable they were connected to a metal
Speaker 1: breastplate on the table. Roland pointed to a pair of
Speaker 1: lumpy white scars on his lower back. The input sockets
Speaker 1: are in there. They've scarred up. You'll have to cut
Speaker 1: him back open, but it should fit. But it should
Speaker 1: still fit. The nice thing about DARPA engineering that a
Speaker 1: little bit of blood and skin never gets in the way.
Speaker 1: Sardar set to work carving the sockets back open. Roland
Speaker 1: felt the pain as a distant sort of itch. He
Speaker 1: was having a hard time focusing his senses on his
Speaker 1: immediate surroundings. The smells of the advancing army presented an
Speaker 1: almost overpowering flood of data. Roland had loaded up on
Speaker 1: ketamine and vodka to quiet his hindbrain, but all that
Speaker 1: interfered with his introspection. He built this thing for me
Speaker 1: to wear. Jim, how long have you been planning this? Yes,
Speaker 1: Jim said, His forthrightness surprised Roland. Your pacifism is a mistake,
Speaker 1: Jim continued, brought on by your overactive conscience. There is
Speaker 1: still so much you need to do in the world.
Speaker 1: I figured at some point you'd realize that yourself, so
Speaker 1: I kept my men working. Sardar lifted the heavy metal
Speaker 1: breastplate up over Roland's head and settled it over his shoulders.
Speaker 1: The weight was comforting. A cold electric shock ran through
Speaker 1: his body as the armor connected to his central nervous system.
Speaker 1: Roland felt parts of himself wake up that he hadn't
Speaker 1: truly realized were asleep. Something in him had missed that feeling,
Speaker 1: and he felt guilty for that. I'm taking this thing
Speaker 1: off the instant. The fight's over, Jim. You wasted your money.
Speaker 1: Jim smile only deepened. You've forgotten how fun it is, Rowland,
Speaker 1: and you've forgotten what it is like to be a
Speaker 1: fucking human. Roland countered, Have you always been a sociopath?
Speaker 1: Is this what I was like back before whatever took
Speaker 1: my memories? Jim's amused, smiled and shift by so much
Speaker 1: as a nanometer. Roland felt a spike of irritation before
Speaker 1: he was distracted by Sardar. Raise your hand, please, the
Speaker 1: mechanic said. He lifted a four barreled machine gun on
Speaker 1: a circular frame and slid it around Roland's right arm.
Speaker 1: Sardar bolted the weapon into place while he explained it's
Speaker 1: a stack charged machine gun magnetically fired, similar to the
Speaker 1: old metal storm weapons. But this fucker's capable of putting
Speaker 1: out twenty thousand rounds per second. How long an a fire,
Speaker 1: Sardar laughed, but less than this second. The mechanic turned
Speaker 1: back to his table, and Roland tried to direct his
Speaker 1: wandering mind back to the conversation with Jim. You're going
Speaker 1: to love it, his old friend said, I know you've
Speaker 1: been lovin' it when you've fought your way out of
Speaker 1: that citia. I could smell the dopamine waftin off your
Speaker 1: brain from all the way out here. Sardar snapped a
Speaker 1: queasts around Roland's thigh. The armor also sported a bulky
Speaker 1: weapons blister on its outside edge gas grenade launcher. The
Speaker 1: mechanic explained, should co great with all the frag rocklets.
Speaker 1: Uh so we're committing war crimes now, Roland asked Jim,
Speaker 1: with more indignation than he really felt. Jim rolled his eyes.
Speaker 1: Is just he a gas? He said, mostly? At least
Speaker 1: I may have included some aerosolized L S D in there.
Speaker 1: I've been on a big psychochemical warfare kicked lately. For
Speaker 1: a little while, Sardar worked in silence, Jim drank and
Speaker 1: Roland stared near him, but not at him. The self
Speaker 1: inflicted haze in his head had cleared a bit. That
Speaker 1: meant his hind brain grew louder. By now it was
Speaker 1: all but shouting about the approaching army. Roland felt a
Speaker 1: trickle of adrenaline, oxytocin, and endorphins. His left hand twitched involuntarily.
Speaker 1: He felt the power of the weapons system around him,
Speaker 1: and he felt the power in his own body. Something
Speaker 1: like a rousal gripped him. Roland fought it down as
Speaker 1: best he could, but it lingered there at the edge
Speaker 1: of his consciousness. I've been remembering more, he said to Jim,
Speaker 1: as much to distract himself as out of a desire
Speaker 1: to get it off his chest. Jim cocked an eyebrow
Speaker 1: in interest. I've had a few big flashes of memories.
Speaker 1: Once when we drove into Dallas, past the side of
Speaker 1: the Lakewood Blast, I remembered. He locked eyes with Jim,
Speaker 1: and Jim nodded back his eyes said, I know so,
Speaker 1: Roland moved on. The memories come most intensely when I'm
Speaker 1: in combat. I remembered hiking with Topez. I remembered burning
Speaker 1: the TAZ in Denver. I got flashes of you and
Speaker 1: me in Mexico, and a lot more. I'm still certain
Speaker 1: through it. It's confus using because there's no timeline for
Speaker 1: any of this, just associated memories I know happened. At
Speaker 1: some point, Jim leaned forward, his eyes flashed with excitement. Interested,
Speaker 1: he said, tell me. Have you been able to draw
Speaker 1: any conclusions about who you were from what you've remembered?
Speaker 1: Have you gotten any insight into the old Roland? Roland frowned.
Speaker 1: He'd been so focused on trying to remember his old
Speaker 1: life that he hadn't given much thought to what the
Speaker 1: memories he had said about the man he'd been. As
Speaker 1: he pondered, Roland's mind lingered on the memory of shooting
Speaker 1: the chainey boy in the back of the head. I
Speaker 1: think I used to be a lot more like you,
Speaker 1: Roland said. Jim grinned, his lips curled up to reveal
Speaker 1: long rows of white, straight teeth. That's true, he said,
Speaker 1: Why else do you think I've missed you so much? Sasha?
Speaker 1: A part of Sasha had believed that after the Heavenly Kingdom,
Speaker 1: nothing she saw would ever shock her again. That part
Speaker 1: of her was proven wrong when Nana Yazzi's aged arthritic
Speaker 1: hand began to messily carve at the first warrior's face.
Speaker 1: Her target was the young woman with the chrome hawk
Speaker 1: Sasha had seen in the war council. The carving was
Speaker 1: a messy thing. It took the better part of a
Speaker 1: minute for her to slice and peel the skin free.
Speaker 1: Sasha noticed that there was very little blood. It was messy,
Speaker 1: but not as messy as it should have been. Once
Speaker 1: she was finished, Nana Yazzi stepped back with the woman's
Speaker 1: face in her hand. As she did, dozens of citizens
Speaker 1: stepped forward. They pulled out daggers, swords, straight razors, and
Speaker 1: switch blades of their own. Each civilian paired off with
Speaker 1: a warrior and began to carve. Some of them were
Speaker 1: quick and practiced. The motion of their hands reminded Sasha
Speaker 1: of an autopsy video she'd watched in one of her
Speaker 1: pre met classes, but the other citizens were cruder with
Speaker 1: their cutting. A few verged on brutal hacking and slashing
Speaker 1: at the faces and necks of their persons. None of
Speaker 1: the post human warriors showed any signs of pain or discomfort.
Speaker 1: They just stood, unmoving and without their faces, seemingly without emotion.
Speaker 1: I don't understand, Sasha said. She hadn't expected to say
Speaker 1: it out loud, The words just slipped out. It's a
Speaker 1: symbolic thing, scoffucker Mike explained. Before they leave, the city's
Speaker 1: warriors give up their identities to the group. They leave
Speaker 1: their humanity behind, and bloody tatters in the hands of
Speaker 1: their friends and loved ones. It's a way of making
Speaker 1: sure the city civilians don't leave a war without blood
Speaker 1: on their hands. And it makes em look fucking terrifying,
Speaker 1: someone said from behind them. Sasha turned around. A short,
Speaker 1: fit man approached them. He had a thin build, but
Speaker 1: his body was girded with lithe muscle. There was something
Speaker 1: familiar about his face, the short mop of curly black
Speaker 1: hair atop his head. The man smiled when Sasha saw him,
Speaker 1: revealing pointed metallic fangs. Hey wait a second, Low, Topez scoffucker,
Speaker 1: Mike said. Manny looked shocked as well. He stared at
Speaker 1: the man in surprise. Topaz, what happened? There was a
Speaker 1: woman with those exact same teeth yesterday when we arrived
Speaker 1: at the city. Sasha hadn't gotten a woman's name, but
Speaker 1: she'd borne a striking resemblance to this man. I felt
Speaker 1: like a man to day, Topaz said, what with the
Speaker 1: war and all? Sasha finally realized what had happened. Of course,
Speaker 1: she thought these people can change their physiology on a dime, Ah,
Speaker 1: Manny said with a nod schofucker. Mike walked up to Topaz,
Speaker 1: and the two embraced and then kissed. They twined their
Speaker 1: arms together, and a few seconds later, Topaz seemed to
Speaker 1: finally notice Sasha's presence. Sorry, he smiled as he spoke.
Speaker 1: But I don't believe I got your name, Sasha, Saschamarian.
Speaker 1: Topaz stepped closer. Well, Sascha Maarian, he said, in a
Speaker 1: low voice, How are you liking? Are strange ways and customs?
Speaker 1: They're interesting? Sasha said diplomatically. Do you find this place
Speaker 1: more to your liking than the heavenly Kingdom? Topaz stepped closer.
Speaker 1: Sasha took a step back and then another. The man's
Speaker 1: expression was friendly enough, but there was a sort of
Speaker 1: queer menace in the set of his shoulders. It may
Speaker 1: have had something to do with the very large rifle
Speaker 1: slung across his back. Sasha started to sweat. Fear gripped
Speaker 1: her mind. Topaz back off, schoolfucker. Mike's voice was devoid
Speaker 1: of anger, but firm. You're scaring her. Topaz stopped and
Speaker 1: stared at Mike. His expression went from placid smile to rage,
Speaker 1: and then back to a smile, almost faster than Sasha
Speaker 1: could process. Sorry, darling, he said in an artificially chipper voice.
Speaker 1: I just wanted to make sure our guest was enjoying
Speaker 1: her stay here. He looked to Sasha again. You are,
Speaker 1: aren't you? Yes, good, Topaz purred, Hopefully you won't be
Speaker 1: joining any more extremist groups to get my friends killed.
Speaker 1: He turned immediately to Manny, and with barely a pause
Speaker 1: for breath, embraced him and kissed his forehead. I'm proud
Speaker 1: of you, buddy, as far as I'm concerned your family.
Speaker 1: Manny mumbled his thanks and returned the hug, but he
Speaker 1: glanced at Sasha and they shared a what the hell look?
Speaker 1: Skullfucker Mike seemed to want a plaster over the awkwardness. Yep,
Speaker 1: he said, We've made some wonderful friends these last couple
Speaker 1: of days. He pantomime looking down at his watchless wrist
Speaker 1: and checking the time. Oh my goodness, he said, in
Speaker 1: mock surprise. Look at the time, Topez, We've got a
Speaker 1: war to get to. You kids had better find some
Speaker 1: decent seats. Topaz smiled at skullfucker Mike, his eyes lingered
Speaker 1: on the big man's face and then drifted back to Sasha.
Speaker 1: Enjoy the show, he said, with an empty smile, Rowland.
Speaker 1: It was windy. On the landing pad. He and Jim
Speaker 1: stood next to a heavy black feetoll aircraft, the steed
Speaker 1: that would carry him into today's massacre. Roland could taste
Speaker 1: the dying summer and the faint stirrings of a North
Speaker 1: Texas fall in the air. It was cooler than he'd
Speaker 1: have expected this time of the year, grayer too. A
Speaker 1: gust of chill wind blew across his face, and Roland
Speaker 1: found himself fall ling back in time again. He was shorter,
Speaker 1: The world seemed sharper, even though his senses were dim
Speaker 1: and unenlightened. Roland felt a hand abound his own. It
Speaker 1: felt big, powerful, and comforting. He looked up and saw
Speaker 1: a woman standing over him. She was tall, a giant.
Speaker 1: Her hair was brown and straight and long and clear
Speaker 1: as day in his mind's eye, but her face was blank,
Speaker 1: obscured even in memory. His head turned to track the
Speaker 1: passage of a blowing leaf. He felt chill winter air
Speaker 1: on his arm, and he watched as a red sedan
Speaker 1: rumbled past them, straining water into the airs and had
Speaker 1: a puddle on the asphalt. Rowland pay attention. Jim's voice
Speaker 1: snapped him back to reality. The other chrombed man held
Speaker 1: a paper thin table in front of Roland's face. That
Speaker 1: memory flash had been the most immersive yet, although not
Speaker 1: the longest. He was a little confused at that why
Speaker 1: that moment had it just been the similarity in weather
Speaker 1: or Rowland? Jim was angry. It was actually somewhat refreshing
Speaker 1: to see genuine emotion on the other man's post human face.
Speaker 1: Veins bulged at his neck and his eyes were fully open.
Speaker 1: Roland caught a harsh whiff of methamphetamine from his breath. Alright, alright,
Speaker 1: fucking chill, Roland muttered, what am I looking at? He
Speaker 1: needn't have asked. Once he focused on the tablet, it
Speaker 1: was obvious that it displayed a map of the area
Speaker 1: around Lake Waco. Rolling Fox warriors and vehicles were displayed
Speaker 1: in little blue pinpoints. Jim scrolled up a few inches
Speaker 1: and Roland saw a swarm of red. It was half
Speaker 1: over the Brazos right now, and it crept millimeter by
Speaker 1: millivater towards their position. The river slowed him down a bit,
Speaker 1: Jim said, but the bridges there was still in good order.
Speaker 1: I'd say they'll hit rock Creak in about ten minutes.
Speaker 1: Roland nodded and asked, couldn't we have killed those bridges
Speaker 1: bought some hours. Jim gave a careless shrug. Why would
Speaker 1: we want to slow him down? We're ready enough, No
Speaker 1: sense in dragging this out. There was a strong smell
Speaker 1: of ozone as the v Toal aircraft next to them
Speaker 1: woke up. Red lights glowed on the missile pods slung
Speaker 1: under its belly. The chain gun on its nose cycled.
Speaker 1: The whole thing hummed with potential energy. It was too
Speaker 1: modern for Roland to know the make and model, but
Speaker 1: it reminded him of the Russian Coba Assault transport, which
Speaker 1: had been state of the art back in the mid forties.
Speaker 1: So is the plan, he asked Jim. Well, his friend said,
Speaker 1: we know they've got at least a half dozen mobile
Speaker 1: antie batteries old U s Patriot threes inaccurate garbage. Nothing.
Speaker 1: I'm worried about. The name conjured up a ghost of
Speaker 1: another memory. A big Patriot battery wheeled around on its
Speaker 1: truck sized chassis. He heard the machine whine of the motors,
Speaker 1: and then the reek of fear hit his nose, as
Speaker 1: rich and heavy as Texas thunder. There were missiles in
Speaker 1: the air aimed at him as he fell. They were
Speaker 1: child's plate at dodge in his suit. He descended, his
Speaker 1: fear stink rolled up towards him from the soldiers below.
Speaker 1: The poor fucker's Rowland, Jim shouted, I'm not gonna have
Speaker 1: to find another murder guerilla to take your place. What No,
Speaker 1: Roland shook his head. Sorry, he said, just memories. Jim
Speaker 1: gave him a long look and if then you need
Speaker 1: to talk about right now? No, Roland said, it's just
Speaker 1: the memories are coming amy faster now, it's distracting. That
Speaker 1: makes sense. Jim said, I'd imagined stimula that reminds you
Speaker 1: of your past, could prompt your brain into a sudden healing.
Speaker 1: He reached into a bag at his hip. It looked
Speaker 1: like a standard dump pouch meant for half spent magazines
Speaker 1: in the heat of battle, but Jim pulled out a
Speaker 1: fully loaded crack pipe. Even unlit, it smelled like burning
Speaker 1: tires at a non percent peel. Jim held the pipe
Speaker 1: up to Roland. All right. Roland grabbed the pipe and
Speaker 1: lifted it to his lips. Jim reached out and flipped
Speaker 1: on the lighter built into his index finger. He held
Speaker 1: it under the glass bubble of the pipe. The rocks
Speaker 1: vaporized into white smoke rolland inhaled and felt the vapor
Speaker 1: dissolve into his blood stream through his mucus membranes. There
Speaker 1: was a tingle as the crack reached his brain's ventral
Speaker 1: tegmental area, and said, in essence, you know how much
Speaker 1: dopamine you were planning to produce? Make a shipload more
Speaker 1: than that. The happy chemicals flooded Roland's mind. His anxiety
Speaker 1: at the recently churned up memories faded, as did the
Speaker 1: memories themselves better. Jim asked, super good, Roland said, can I,
Speaker 1: Jim waved, show a man keep the pipe. In fact,
Speaker 1: he pulled his index finger free from his hand and
Speaker 1: gave it to Roland. Keep that. I'll grow a new one.
Speaker 1: Who Roland took the finger, flicked at a light, and
Speaker 1: took another deep pole of burning crack, so he said,
Speaker 1: as he exhaled a plume of crack smoke. The plan right,
Speaker 1: said Jim, like I told you, Rock creak is where
Speaker 1: we planned to hit him. The Edmund Fitzgerald. Here, Jim
Speaker 1: banged a hand on the side of the veetoll craft.
Speaker 1: It's gonna take you up to around fifteen thousand feet
Speaker 1: and then drop you right on the heads. I expect
Speaker 1: we'll take some flak afterwards, but this bird can handle it.
Speaker 1: And besides, he raised his voice and jerked his head
Speaker 1: towards the cockpit. Anderson's piloting it to day, and it's
Speaker 1: not like I give a shit if he does. In response,
Speaker 1: the nose gun wheeled around on its mount and locked
Speaker 1: on to Jim. There was a clinking sound as it
Speaker 1: ratcheted around into its chain er. Jim rolled his eyes.
Speaker 1: Fucking pilots. Anyway, me and my people will be with
Speaker 1: the Roland fuck folks getting shot at. He tapped Roland's helmet.
Speaker 1: When we're ready for you, I'll ping you both, and
Speaker 1: Anderson can drop you on top of the asses. So
Speaker 1: Roland asked, I've just got a fall on top of
Speaker 1: a hostile army and start shooting. Jim nodded, right, then,
Speaker 1: let's get started. Manny. Years ago and what now seemed
Speaker 1: like another life, Manny had gone to watch an outdoor
Speaker 1: movie at Silker Park in Austin Ghostbusters. He was pretty
Speaker 1: sure it had been Ghostbusters, hundreds and hundreds of people
Speaker 1: had shown up, families with children, and couples on dates,
Speaker 1: and so so many dogs. The sound hadn't been great,
Speaker 1: and the projectionist could have been better, but he remembered
Speaker 1: the evening fondly. Rolling fuck before a battle reminded him
Speaker 1: of that experience. The people were different. Very few of
Speaker 1: them were children, but clusters of citizens, friend groups and
Speaker 1: family leaves and families of friends had set up little
Speaker 1: viewing nooks across the wheeled city itself and in the
Speaker 1: field in front of it. The whole scene would have
Speaker 1: been idyllic if they weren't about to watch a battle.
Speaker 1: The vehicle's cavalry and infantry were already almost out of view.
Speaker 1: He could just barely see shapes out on the horizon
Speaker 1: setting up firing positions on top of buildings in Rock Creek.
Speaker 1: They moved so damn fast. Manny didn't think he'd ever
Speaker 1: get used to the pace of post human life. He
Speaker 1: knew Topaz and Skullfucker Mike were somewhere out there, he
Speaker 1: knew where they'd be soon, and in spite of their confidence,
Speaker 1: he worried for them more than anyone. He worried for
Speaker 1: Roland drinks for everyone. Donald Ferris said he had a
Speaker 1: tray full of drinks in his hands, fresh from the bar.
Speaker 1: He sat down next to Nanayazi and smiled. Manny and
Speaker 1: Sasha sat on the opposite side of them in a
Speaker 1: booth in the main roller's bar, looking out over Waco.
Speaker 1: Donald started handing out beverages, first bubbly drinks in long
Speaker 1: brown bottles that smelled familiar Coca cola, the old documentarian said,
Speaker 1: not the stuff they still sell all over, the original
Speaker 1: recipe with cocaine and alcohol. It's great ship. We go
Speaker 1: through gallons of it every day. Nany Yazzi took a
Speaker 1: sip from hers and smiled. It's quite good, she said,
Speaker 1: and the intoxicating effect is mild. Our chromed comrades have
Speaker 1: a stronger variant. Of course, we're all humans here. Donald
Speaker 1: smiled more or less. Manny took one of the cokes,
Speaker 1: sipped it, and nodded to Sasha. It's really good, he said,
Speaker 1: you should try it. It was good, and it didn't
Speaker 1: seem like it was too strong. Minny took another sip
Speaker 1: and smiled. As Sasha grabbed her bottle and took a gulp.
Speaker 1: She seemed to like it. There was a loud pop
Speaker 1: sound from somewhere up above. Minny tinsed up, but then
Speaker 1: he tracked its origin to one of the landing pads
Speaker 1: that extended from a gantry tower at least a hundred
Speaker 1: feet above them. Dozens of small black shapes flitted out
Speaker 1: from it and soared forward off in the same direction
Speaker 1: the army had gone spidrones. Donald Ferris explained, they'll be
Speaker 1: at the front by the time the fighting starts. This
Speaker 1: all seemed so weird, Sasha said, I think I read
Speaker 1: about people doing something similar during the Civil War. They'd
Speaker 1: set up picnic blankets on hills overlooking the battle. Donald
Speaker 1: Ferris grunted and shifted in his seat a bit awkwardly.
Speaker 1: Nani Yazzi smiled and said, it is a bit like that.
Speaker 1: The difference is that we're not doing this to be voyeurs.
Speaker 1: We won't see much fighting. What will we see? Just watch?
Speaker 1: Donald Ferris said, and reached for a tiny shot glass
Speaker 1: filled with a yellow brown liquid. But ever drink first,
Speaker 1: it'll help. Manny took one of the shot glasses and
Speaker 1: moved to belt it down, but Nanyazzie put her hand
Speaker 1: on his. That's fine, te quel, a son, I'd recommend sipping,
Speaker 1: so he sipped it, and it was good. The burn
Speaker 1: rolled down his throat and mixed with the cocaine and
Speaker 1: alcohol from the Coca cola, A comfortable, warm haze settled
Speaker 1: over Manny. He was about to encourage Sasha to try
Speaker 1: some when another sound intruded. The high hum of drone
Speaker 1: bones filled the air. Manny fought down an irrational surge
Speaker 1: of anxiety. He wasn't sure he'd ever feel comfortable with
Speaker 1: the sound of drones again. Each of these drones was
Speaker 1: the size and rough density of a rottweiler. They flew
Speaker 1: in pairs, connected by what looked like a thick, bindy
Speaker 1: white tube that hung between them. Several pairs settled in
Speaker 1: front of the main roller's bar in a stable hover.
Speaker 1: With a whirr and a click, the white tubes in
Speaker 1: between them opened up and unfurled into screens. A second later,
Speaker 1: the screens lit up. Manny took another sip of truly
Speaker 1: fabulous tequila and looked back across his new friends. Donald
Speaker 1: Ferris looked somber as Solomon gray as a granite wall.
Speaker 1: Nana Yazzi seemed almost excited, as if she'd reached the
Speaker 1: first jump scare in a good horror movie. Sasha hadn't
Speaker 1: touched her liquor. She didn't seem to have taken more
Speaker 1: than a few SIPs of the coke. Manny found himself wondering,
Speaker 1: what would happen to her after all this? What am
Speaker 1: I going to do after this? Manny realized with a
Speaker 1: bit of shock that Oscar's wife was the only person
Speaker 1: he'd messaged in almost a week. He hadn't sent anything
Speaker 1: to his family or his friends back in Austin. He'd
Speaker 1: had the excuse of his deck being deactivated when he'd
Speaker 1: been inside the Kingdom, but now that he was back
Speaker 1: and his deck was functional, his lack of communication felt
Speaker 1: less and less defensible. Just thinking about Ayisha and the
Speaker 1: terrible news he still had yet to deliver brought a
Speaker 1: spike of anxiety that was somehow worse than his fear
Speaker 1: over the coming battle. There's a certain sound that happens
Speaker 1: when a large group of people all noticed something at
Speaker 1: the same time. That sound shook Manny out of his
Speaker 1: contemplation and alerted him to the fact that something had
Speaker 1: started to happen on the screens. He looked up, and
Speaker 1: he saw that all the screens scattered around the city
Speaker 1: and hovering over the field now shared the same images.
Speaker 1: One side of the screens displayed a video feed of
Speaker 1: a man in full tactical armor, his eyes covered by
Speaker 1: goggles and his head protected by a black helmet. He
Speaker 1: was seated in the coupo law of an armored vehicle
Speaker 1: rolling fast over the highway. Next to that video feed
Speaker 1: was a picture of the same man, Sam's armor in
Speaker 1: more peaceful days. He was fair skinned, with red hair
Speaker 1: and an easy smile. He wore a shirt that Manny
Speaker 1: guest signified his allegiance to some sports team. In the
Speaker 1: am fed the images sat there alone for a second.
Speaker 1: Manny looked out at the horizon towards Rock Creek, where
Speaker 1: Rolling Fox soldiers had embedded themselves. He saw three black
Speaker 1: gray contrails rush out from an old office building and
Speaker 1: out towards the highway. The Heavenly Kingdom's forces were just
Speaker 1: barely visible to his naked eye, tiny ant size tanks
Speaker 1: and transports. All three rockets hit, and the black smoke
Speaker 1: of the detonations obscured the head of the vehicle column.
Speaker 1: And then on the video feed, a rocket burst right
Speaker 1: above the man in the cupola. Manny watched as he
Speaker 1: was torn apart in a hail of shrapnel. The video
Speaker 1: and the still image of his smiling face were replaced
Speaker 1: a second later by a looping video of an older
Speaker 1: man playing with a baby girl. He picked her up
Speaker 1: and spun her around, and the camera zoomed in on
Speaker 1: his joyous smile. Another video played of a younger man
Speaker 1: attending his high school graduation. More videos and still images
Speaker 1: popped up, displaying gentle moments in the lives of at
Speaker 1: least a dozen different men, and then all the screens
Speaker 1: cut violently to video of and exploding a PC. Manny
Speaker 1: jerked back in surprise. He saw that Sasha had reacted similarly.
Speaker 1: Nannyazi just sat and stared, her face unreadable. Donald Ferris frowned,
Speaker 1: and when he noticed Manny looking back at him, he
Speaker 1: waved a gentle hand towards the screen and mouthed the
Speaker 1: word watch. Manny turned back to the screens in time
Speaker 1: to see them populate with more faces and more looping videos.
Speaker 1: He watched his children open birthday presents and celebrated graduations.
Speaker 1: He saw young men pose with teammates or hug their kids.
Speaker 1: He saw pizza parties and Christmas Mornings and laughter and love,
Speaker 1: and then another vehicle detonated. The screen cleared, and then
Speaker 1: it populated again with scenes from four More Lives next
Speaker 1: to video of a detonating Leopard tank. The parade of
Speaker 1: shattered lives went on as rockets, mortars, and now gunfire
Speaker 1: lashed out from Rock Creak and towards the vehicle column.
Speaker 1: Rowland isn't even there yet. This is just the beginning,
Speaker 1: Manny stared out, numb and queasy, and watched as the
Speaker 1: Heavenly Kingdom's armored spearhead changed direction and began the drive
Speaker 1: to Rock Creek. They were firing now, too, pouring explosive
Speaker 1: shot and long range rockets into the neighborhood. This is
Speaker 1: what you wanted, he reminded himself, as the parade of
Speaker 1: death sped up Rowland. It was downright cold at fifteen
Speaker 1: thousand feet. Rowland relished the bite in the air and
Speaker 1: stared out the Edmund Fitzgerald's side window. As he hit
Speaker 1: Jim's crack pipe for the last time, his synapses bubbled
Speaker 1: with dopamine. Now he couldn't stop his lips from curling
Speaker 1: up into a grin as he looked out onto the
Speaker 1: distant fields below. Five minutes to drop point, the pilot's
Speaker 1: voice echoed through the cargo compartment. Normally it would have
Speaker 1: held an array of smart bombs are close as salt drones.
Speaker 1: Today it held only Rowland. He stepped forward towards the
Speaker 1: rear bay doors of the craft. The feeling of the
Speaker 1: cold deck under his feet and the elevated hemoglobin levels
Speaker 1: in his blood brought the threat of another rush of
Speaker 1: memory to Roland's mind. The dizzy glee of the crack
Speaker 1: Hi helped him shrug it off. Combat soon, battle and
Speaker 1: battle drugs. He tried to temper his excitement. He didn't
Speaker 1: want to crave that high as much as he did.
Speaker 1: It'll just take a few seconds, he told himself, and
Speaker 1: then I can disengage. He could already feel the Heavenly
Speaker 1: Kingdom's army far below settling in Their nose had been
Speaker 1: bloodied by rolling fox rocketry, but they'd suffered relatively few casualties.
Speaker 1: So far. The plan did seem to be working. Dozens
Speaker 1: of vehicles and thousands of men had already moved into
Speaker 1: position around the Rock Creek neighborhood. Roland could hear the
Speaker 1: sounds of their mortars, RECOILSS rifles and assault guns opening fire.
Speaker 1: He reached out with his senses and tried to find
Speaker 1: Topaz and Skullfucker Mike in the mess, but their scents
Speaker 1: and heat profiles were obscured by shell fire and smoke.
Speaker 1: Roland was able to locate Jim, as well as Bigsby
Speaker 1: and his assault team. They were hunkered down at the
Speaker 1: edge of the neighbor hood, embedded in an abandoned apartment complex,
Speaker 1: and engaged in a furious firefight with the Heavenly Kingdom's vanguard.
Speaker 1: Roland could smell the dopamine rushing into jim synapses from
Speaker 1: fifteen thousand feet in the air. His heart began to
Speaker 1: beat faster. He felt his left hand start to shake,
Speaker 1: not in fear, but in delirious anticipation of the battle drugs.
Speaker 1: Another flash of memory took him, and his hand shook
Speaker 1: so bad he could barely hold the needle straight. He'd
Speaker 1: already missed the vain troice. God damn it, God damn it,
Speaker 1: he cursed, before taking a deep breath and preparing himself
Speaker 1: to try again. Sixty seconds to drop. The pilot's voice
Speaker 1: pulled Roland back into the moment that memory had felt weird.
Speaker 1: It had been blurry in his mind's eye, but Roland's
Speaker 1: arms and hands had felt smaller than was I shooting
Speaker 1: up dope as a teenager? He knew the answer, based
Speaker 1: on his current predilections, was probably. Roland shook his mind
Speaker 1: away from the past and focused again on the war downstairs.
Speaker 1: The Kingdom had moved quickly. He guessed around four thousand
Speaker 1: of their men were already in position. These would be
Speaker 1: the elite, their most veteran fighters, the soldiers wearing power
Speaker 1: armor or writing in real armored transports and not up
Speaker 1: gunned trucks. He could feel the rest of the Kingdom's
Speaker 1: army flung out far behind them, in a long tail
Speaker 1: that stretched back to the brazos. How many of these
Speaker 1: men will die today? How many are already dead? Seconds
Speaker 1: his nose caught the distant gasoline wreek of a flamethrower
Speaker 1: opening up on a squad of advancing martyrs. That's gotta
Speaker 1: be Jim right. Five seconds the jump light turned from
Speaker 1: red to green, and the bomb bay doors opened with
Speaker 1: a rush of air and wind that cracked the uncovered
Speaker 1: skin on Roland's face. Three, said the pilot. He stepped
Speaker 1: out to the ledge and planted his feet. The world
Speaker 1: whipped by around them at a maddening speed. Roland looked down,
Speaker 1: focused and saw the Heavenly Kingdom's army underneath him. Dozens
Speaker 1: of vehicles and thousands of men had taken up position
Speaker 1: in a large park and several buildings surrounding Rock Creek.
Speaker 1: Two large gatherings of mortars in a trio of Leopard
Speaker 1: tanks made up the bulk of the artillery now pouring
Speaker 1: fire into rolling Fox forces. There were also several large
Speaker 1: field guns and rocket batteries currently being bolted into place
Speaker 1: in an old parking lot behind the park. Competent Roland
Speaker 1: was impressed by how the Kingdom's soldiers had parked their
Speaker 1: armored transports to help complete a fortress wall around one
Speaker 1: side of Rock Creek. They'd sent a few probing attacks
Speaker 1: of power armored troopers, but he could tell they wouldn't
Speaker 1: launch a full assault until they'd flattened the neighborhood to
Speaker 1: a trickle of endorphins and serotonin joined the soggy mush
Speaker 1: of dopamine and roland synapses. He closed his eyes and
Speaker 1: with a thought, activated the sundry weapons systems that Sardar
Speaker 1: had wired into his body. The missiles in their pods hummed,
Speaker 1: and the barrels around his right arm chimed in readiness.
Speaker 1: Lyrics from a half remembered song flitted across his mind.
Speaker 1: Time time, time for another peaceful war. One Roland stepped
Speaker 1: off the back of the craft and into the skies.
Speaker 1: Embrace Sasha. The faces flashed by, along with video clips
Speaker 1: and curated posts from social media, and of course, scenes
Speaker 1: of death. Some of the men died from sniper fire,
Speaker 1: cut down as they ran for cover. Others died in
Speaker 1: long range firefights or from shrapnel. The pace of death
Speaker 1: had gradually risen over the course of the battle. Some
Speaker 1: of that was due to the fact that the martyrs
Speaker 1: had sent in several assault teams to test the metal
Speaker 1: of the defenders. Those men had died fast and badly.
Speaker 1: Many of them had been burnt alive. The sight of
Speaker 1: it all should have horrified her. She wanted it to
Speaker 1: horrify her. Everyone else at the table had tears in
Speaker 1: their eyes. Even Nanny Yazzi was crying, and that lady
Speaker 1: looked like she'd been through some ship. Since when do
Speaker 1: you curse like that? Sasha felt a pang of guilt.
Speaker 1: At how easily the swear word had come to her mind.
Speaker 1: Then she felt really, really stupid. She was literally watching
Speaker 1: people die. She'd killed two human beings less than forty
Speaker 1: eight hours ago. What the fuck does cursing matter? But
Speaker 1: still the guilt was there. Perhaps what she felt was
Speaker 1: a betray ill of her past self, or maybe she
Speaker 1: was just dumb. Sasha shook it off. She tried to
Speaker 1: focus on the carnage. It was horrible, she knew that
Speaker 1: in a detached, academic sense. She couldn't quite feel the horror, though.
Speaker 1: It was as if shooting Darrell had opened up a
Speaker 1: great gnawing hole inside her heart, and that whole had
Speaker 1: spread like a black film over her entire body. All
Speaker 1: her feelings seemed so distant now. She wanted to cry
Speaker 1: about Darrell. She wanted to cry about this. She wanted
Speaker 1: to cry for Susannah and Anne, left alone in that
Speaker 1: living hell of a kingdom. She wanted to cry for
Speaker 1: herself too, but she couldn't, and so she didn't. Instead,
Speaker 1: she sat and watched as the warrior gods of this
Speaker 1: strange city helped the martyrs earn their title. Sasha looked
Speaker 1: out at the citizens of Rolling Fuck, most of the
Speaker 1: people she could see were crying, and even those who
Speaker 1: weren't looked shaken, horrified. The perpetual party atmosphere she'd come
Speaker 1: to associate with the City of Wheels was gone. It
Speaker 1: had been suspended to allow for pain. Sasha wanted to
Speaker 1: hurt with them, but instead she thought about the offer
Speaker 1: that man Jim had made. She thought about the squeaking
Speaker 1: sound of the razor blade ripping out of Roland's forearm.
Speaker 1: She'd seen the way he fought. She longed for the
Speaker 1: high that had come with the violence and the clinic,
Speaker 1: but she couldn't stand more of the guilt killing Darrell
Speaker 1: had brought her. I could be emetic, Sasha thought, Jim
Speaker 1: said so. She looked up to the screens again at
Speaker 1: the parade of Death. She wasn't sure if any of
Speaker 1: the dead had been rolling Fox soldiers. It didn't look
Speaker 1: like it, But as she settled back in to watch,
Speaker 1: something glitched on the screens. The stream of faces sped
Speaker 1: up well past the point where she could focus on
Speaker 1: any of them. Then the floe stopped, sputtered, the picture
Speaker 1: glitched out, and then righted itself. Whatever algorithm handled the
Speaker 1: show eventually stabilized and the individual images on each screen
Speaker 1: shrank to accommodate many, many more people, a flood of
Speaker 1: the dead and moments from their lives. The nature of
Speaker 1: their deaths changed too. Most of the first waves seemed
Speaker 1: to come from a sudden burst of explosive detonations, but
Speaker 1: the explosions stopped and the dying continued, and whatever was
Speaker 1: killing the martyrs now moved too fast to be clearly seen.
Speaker 1: What's happening? She heard Manny, ask, is something wrong? No,
Speaker 1: the old man said, that's just Rowland. Rowland. Forty five
Speaker 1: seconds after his feet hit dirt, Rowland was out of AMMO.
Speaker 1: He'd managed to do a tremendous amount of damage in
Speaker 1: that short span of time, decimating their mortar batteries with
Speaker 1: cluster rockets and clearing the martyrs away from their field
Speaker 1: guns with a mix of gas and fragmentation grenades. He'd
Speaker 1: emptied his machine gun and three long bursts, mostly aimed
Speaker 1: at the infantry who had been clustered behind the APC
Speaker 1: barricades when he landed. Then he'd taken to scavenging rifles
Speaker 1: from the dead and emptying those into targets of opportunity.
Speaker 1: By the one minute mark, Rowland's hindbrain estimated he'd killed
Speaker 1: or wounded close to a thousand men. The sheer ferocity
Speaker 1: of his initial assault sent the kingdoms for his reeling
Speaker 1: and cleared a circle of ground around him about two
Speaker 1: hundred meters wide. Rowland finished gunning down the crew of
Speaker 1: a Patriot battery and ran for an abandoned anti tank
Speaker 1: rifle lying next to a pile of bodies. Bullets smacked
Speaker 1: into him from all sides, diversionary fire meant to distract
Speaker 1: him from the uparmored maddess APC that suddenly gunned its
Speaker 1: engine and barreled towards him. They think they can run
Speaker 1: me over, Rowland realized, with something like glee, so he
Speaker 1: slowed down, reducing his sprint to something like a normal
Speaker 1: human running speed, while the vehicle closed the gap between them.
Speaker 1: He jumped at the last moment, landed on the APC's
Speaker 1: roof and punched a hole through the top armor with
Speaker 1: both of his fists. Then he gripped the ragged metal
Speaker 1: at the sides of the hole and tore the APC open.
Speaker 1: The smell of fear hid his nose as he tore
Speaker 1: through the concrete wall. The room held a dozen men,
Speaker 1: a mix of guards and officers. One man in the
Speaker 1: middle wore the stars of a general in the United
Speaker 1: States Army. Some of the soldiers screamed, a few opened fire,
Speaker 1: but the general just stood there while Rowland killed. He
Speaker 1: didn't even blink. No fear poured off him. It's our fault,
Speaker 1: the general said once they were the only men left
Speaker 1: alive in the room. This is all our fault, Roland time.
Speaker 1: A bullet hit his face and Roland snapped back to reality.
Speaker 1: The men in the APC below him were dead. It
Speaker 1: looked as if he'd shredded them with his bare hands.
Speaker 1: But while he'd been lost in a memory, two more
Speaker 1: APCs had roared up and disgorged a dozen power armored soldiers.
Speaker 1: They shot him with big guns, weapons meant to hurt monsters.
Speaker 1: He avoided some of their rounds, but not most. Roland
Speaker 1: lost the better part of his right hand, a chunk
Speaker 1: of his skull in his left knee. It hurt, but
Speaker 1: that didn't stop him. He leapt off the maddis and
Speaker 1: soon he was among them, ripping off armored plates and
Speaker 1: shattering bones with his bare hands. The battle drugs poured
Speaker 1: into his brain and lit his synapses up like the
Speaker 1: New York Skyline. Roland led out a terrible whooping cry
Speaker 1: that was half laugh and half scream, and he tore
Speaker 1: into the men as they tried in vain to do
Speaker 1: him real harm. It took nineteen seconds to elimin ate
Speaker 1: them all. As the last man dropped, Roland realized with
Speaker 1: some surprise that he could hear Jim's voice, distant but
Speaker 1: getting closer. His old friend was charging, screaming out war whoops,
Speaker 1: and firing those big dumb pistols. Then he heard the
Speaker 1: familiar crack of a Dragonov sniper rifle Topaz his rifle.
Speaker 1: He remembered it now the sound was as familiar to
Speaker 1: him as the voice of his own mother. Holy shit,
Speaker 1: Roland realized that for the first time in years, he
Speaker 1: could remember the sound of his mother's voice. Her name
Speaker 1: and face were still lost in memory, but all this
Speaker 1: violence was clearly knocking some things loose. He took a
Speaker 1: step back behind one of the intact a PC's to
Speaker 1: avoid a spray of heavy machine gun fire and take
Speaker 1: stock of the situation. Now that he focused, he could
Speaker 1: feel the hoofbeats of rolling Fox cavalry. He could sense
Speaker 1: that many of the city's infantry had charged out from
Speaker 1: their positions in Rock Creek to meet the martyrs in
Speaker 1: hand to hand combat. The Heavenly Kingdom was not in flight,
Speaker 1: not yet, but they would break soon. Roland knew it.
Speaker 1: He could smell it in the air. Time to stop, now,
Speaker 1: time to let schullfucker, Mike Topaz and the others finished
Speaker 1: the fight. He'd done enough, He knew he'd done enough,
Speaker 1: and yet the drugs. Even after just a few seconds
Speaker 1: out of direct combat, the high was starting to fade,
Speaker 1: and Roland wanted more. He thought about cracking another skull
Speaker 1: in his hand. Itched. He heard one of the martyrs
Speaker 1: open up with an automatic grenade launcher and thought about
Speaker 1: how good that gun would feel bucking against the meat
Speaker 1: of his shoulder. The man with the grenade launcher was close.
Speaker 1: Roland could close the distance between them and two maybe
Speaker 1: three seconds. No, you don't need to do this, stop.
Speaker 1: Fewer people will die if you just Roland charged. Manny.
Speaker 1: Manny had seen nine people killed by bullets or bombs.
Speaker 1: He'd seen a good deal more fresh corpses in the
Speaker 1: aftermath of firefights. He had a strong stomach, and he
Speaker 1: was not easily distressed by gore. The opening stages of
Speaker 1: this battle and the war ritual had been on settling,
Speaker 1: but not because of the violence that changed soon after
Speaker 1: Roland landed. He's just tearing people apart, Manny said, without
Speaker 1: really meaning to say anything at all. Donald Ferris replied
Speaker 1: with a grim nod. It's hard to watch, Nani Yazzi admitted,
Speaker 1: as another dozen lives and did messily on the screens
Speaker 1: before them. It'll be over soon, though. They can't take
Speaker 1: much more of this. I haven't seen any of your
Speaker 1: people die yet, Sasha said, Is that abnormal? No. Donald's
Speaker 1: voice was grim. There will be a lot of injuries,
Speaker 1: but I don't expect rolling fuck will lose a single warrior, good,
Speaker 1: Sasha said, is it? Donald asked, of course, it's good.
Speaker 1: You silly fuck. Nana Yazzi snapped, that was the first
Speaker 1: time Manny could recall hearing her angry. I disagree, the
Speaker 1: old man grumbled. We're on a precipice here, the edge
Speaker 1: of a deep cliff. Every time this happens, we get
Speaker 1: a little closer to falling off. What you mean, Manny asked,
Speaker 1: he means, Nani Yazzi replied with a bit of drunken
Speaker 1: slur to her voice. He doesn't trust the people of
Speaker 1: this city. He thinks they'll get a taste for war,
Speaker 1: and this whole experiment will turn into a nightmare. You
Speaker 1: can't trust the dark, Donald Ferris insisted, And we're in
Speaker 1: the dark here, he waved out at the field and
Speaker 1: the hundreds of people watching the faces of the dead
Speaker 1: and tearful silence. Right now, we've managed to lash together
Speaker 1: a chain of rituals that keep them peaceful. How long
Speaker 1: can that last? Naniyazzi glared at him, and then shifted
Speaker 1: her gaze to Manny. She pointed a finger at Donald.
Speaker 1: He thinks we should have let your people die. I
Speaker 1: think we have a responsibility to intervene. I'm not saying
Speaker 1: we don't, Donald Ferris insisted, I'm just saying I've seen
Speaker 1: how this story ends. History may not repeat itself, but
Speaker 1: it does rhyme pithy, Nanayazzi said, But oh. She stopped
Speaker 1: mid sentence and stared out into the screens. Manny looked back,
Speaker 1: just in time to watch the flow of dead faces
Speaker 1: speed up again. The screens jerked and shuddered to accommodate
Speaker 1: the new flow. Once they adjusted, Manny was shocked again
Speaker 1: at the violence on display. He saw men run through
Speaker 1: with lances, gutted by scimitars, burnt by napalm, and trampled
Speaker 1: under the spiked hoves of quadrufracts. Oh God, he moaned.
Speaker 1: Ah yes, Naniyazi sighed, that would be the cavalry. It
Speaker 1: won't be much longer now they're here to finish the job. Rowland,
Speaker 1: the knights of Rolling Fuck were a sight to see. Truly.
Speaker 1: It wasn't often that Roland came across something that registered
Speaker 1: as completely new to the deep, battered banks of his memory.
Speaker 1: But there was no deja vous here, no sense that
Speaker 1: he'd watched anything like it before. Rolling Fox writers worked
Speaker 1: in two and three person squads, mostly using a mix
Speaker 1: of hand grenades, small arms, flame throwers, and melee weapons
Speaker 1: for shock value. Their timing was exquisite. One hundred riders
Speaker 1: hit the martyrs at the same time. They didn't seem
Speaker 1: to have specific targets or goals beyond causing mayhem, but
Speaker 1: they did this expertly, spiking armored vehicles and field guns
Speaker 1: with white phosphorus charges and scattering any clusters of martyrs
Speaker 1: they could find. The woman Kashore rode past him, her
Speaker 1: face skinned and weeping blood as she lobbed a hand
Speaker 1: grenade towards a group of martyrs hunkered behind the shattered
Speaker 1: remains of a public restroom. She pulled a maquah wheedle
Speaker 1: with an iron trunk and gleaming obsidian blades free from
Speaker 1: her belt. As her steed leapt over the burning wreckage
Speaker 1: of a jeep and bounded towards the survivors. Roland followed her,
Speaker 1: tearing a piece of rebar free from some rebble as
Speaker 1: he charged. The restrooms were at one end of what
Speaker 1: had once been a giant playground in a public park.
Speaker 1: It had been derelict for more than a decade, but
Speaker 1: the corpses of swing sets and remnants of slides were
Speaker 1: still visible. Several hundred of the martyrs had fallen back
Speaker 1: to this position, trying to create some sort of defensive line.
Speaker 1: Panic and mass death robbed them of a lot of cohesion,
Speaker 1: but they still managed to pour a lot of fire
Speaker 1: into Roland and Cashori as they charged. A rocket propelled
Speaker 1: grenade hit the chest of her quadrifract and burst, ripping
Speaker 1: off one of the machine's legs and sending the Chrome
Speaker 1: woman tumbling to the ground, gravel and rubble embedding itself
Speaker 1: into the red musculature of her bleeding face. Roland didn't
Speaker 1: stop for her. He charged ahead, absorbed a few dozen
Speaker 1: rounds of small arms fire, and dodged a handful of
Speaker 1: rocket propelled grenades. He hit a group of twenty three
Speaker 1: men clustered behind a long, still glass barricade and several
Speaker 1: heavy metal crates. These martyrs had been trying to get
Speaker 1: a trio of anti tank guns back into the fight.
Speaker 1: They gave up on that once Roland had closed to
Speaker 1: about twenty feet. One of them, an older man with
Speaker 1: a spine, shouted words of encouragement and charged forward, firing
Speaker 1: with a dozen of his men. These soldiers weren't wearing
Speaker 1: powered armor. They weren't good enough to hit more than
Speaker 1: one and twenty shots. They wore old, up cycled body armor.
Speaker 1: Only a few of them had bayonets. They present into
Speaker 1: no real threat. Twenty seconds and I can put every
Speaker 1: one of these fuckers down for the rest of the fight.
Speaker 1: No one needs to die. His hand twitched, the river
Speaker 1: of dopamine, and his synapses shrank to a babbling brook.
Speaker 1: Roland felt a craving rise, maybe just a few more
Speaker 1: he was among them. Roland found that brave old fucker
Speaker 1: picked him up by the skull and used him as
Speaker 1: a flail until the bones of his face came loose
Speaker 1: and Roland's hands. He deployed the razor in his wrist
Speaker 1: and started slicing off hands and ears. He moved on
Speaker 1: to slashing tendons and muscles, and eventually just hacked at
Speaker 1: his enemies like a drunken butcher. One boy dropped his gun,
Speaker 1: tried to back away, and fell on his ass as
Speaker 1: Roland stalked towards him, The protesters screamed and screamed. They
Speaker 1: swung sticks and tried to bash him with their shields,
Speaker 1: and he knocked their clumsy strikes aside and waded into
Speaker 1: the mass. Roland didn't even consider drawing a gun. He
Speaker 1: tore every fistful of human flesh, sent a wave of
Speaker 1: orgiastically bubbling through his brain. A young woman screamed and
Speaker 1: tried to run, and he grabbed her hair and pulled
Speaker 1: in the sound of her neck snapping almost made in
Speaker 1: shriek with joy. Please, said a different man, before Roland
Speaker 1: shattered his skull against the pavement and left up to
Speaker 1: chase down a trio of fleeing martyrs. He was back
Speaker 1: and in serlick, bloody and injured, an almost snowblind from
Speaker 1: the battle drugs, Roland shoved his way through the door
Speaker 1: and into the air raid shelter. He'd already pulled a
Speaker 1: grenade free from his harness when he found himself face
Speaker 1: to face with a room full of women and children,
Speaker 1: old men and young boys, civilians, unarmed and with sudden shock,
Speaker 1: Roland realized he didn't care about that last part. His
Speaker 1: synapses screamed for more. Roland obliged them, My god, stop stop.
Speaker 1: He came back to himself and realized he was on
Speaker 1: the ground and locked into a pretty darn good half Nelson.
Speaker 1: It took him a moment to realize that woman Kaushore
Speaker 1: was the one holding him. Oh, he said, what the fuck? Man?
Speaker 1: Roland looked around. None of the martyrs near him were
Speaker 1: still standing. It was hard even for his hindbrain to
Speaker 1: identify how many people had fallen around him. He guessed
Speaker 1: south of a hundred, but not far south. The number
Speaker 1: was shocking. It implied a longer blackout than any of
Speaker 1: the others. What was scarier was the sheer violence evident
Speaker 1: in these men's death. Most of them were in more
Speaker 1: than two pieces. Are you going to flip out? If
Speaker 1: I let go? Roland shook his head and CASHOREI released him.
Speaker 1: He turned around, still seated, and looked at the young woman.
Speaker 1: She was filthy with grime and blood, some of it
Speaker 1: her own. Her skinless face wept red, but even so
Speaker 1: he could still see the judgment in her eyes. That
Speaker 1: was not fucking necessary. She said, I'm sorry, I Roland.
Speaker 1: It was skufucker. Mike Topaz trailed behind him at a
Speaker 1: sizeable distance, sweeping the field with a rifle. Roland tried
Speaker 1: to catch his eye. He avoided Roland's gaze for a
Speaker 1: second or two, but then they connected and she stared
Speaker 1: at him with those big, brown, tear stained eyes. This
Speaker 1: isn't what I wanted, Rowland, This isn't what we said
Speaker 1: we were fighting for. This is just butchery. He felt
Speaker 1: angry at her blind rage that warred with his love.
Speaker 1: Of course, it's butchery, he screamed. The world is built
Speaker 1: by butcher's dude, Kashore. He slapped him hard, and Roland
Speaker 1: came back to himself. Skollfucker Mike was closer now. Roland
Speaker 1: looked for Topaz and found him. He was closer too,
Speaker 1: and looked worried, but he didn't say anything. Is Roland
Speaker 1: all right? Mike asked Kashouri. Was he hit? Sure? But
Speaker 1: that's not the problem, Kashore, he said, he just went
Speaker 1: bug funk on like a company of those guys, ripped
Speaker 1: them apart with his bare hands. It's a fucking relapse,
Speaker 1: said skullfucker Mike. He knelt down in front of Roland
Speaker 1: and put a hand on his shoulder. Buddy, he said,
Speaker 1: it's done. They're starting to run whole army. You'll be
Speaker 1: routed in a few minutes. You just sit here and
Speaker 1: catch your breath and routed. Roland looked around and realized
Speaker 1: his hands were shaking. He felt a vast, throbbing emptiness
Speaker 1: in his sinnapp this, he realized that the emptiness was
Speaker 1: always there, and had been for as long as he
Speaker 1: could remember. Most days, he hid it under a haze
Speaker 1: of narcotics, but now that he'd had it filled for
Speaker 1: just a minute, its emptiness hurt like an amputated limb.
Speaker 1: He looked out and saw that, yes, skullfucker Mike was correct.
Speaker 1: Several pockets of Martyr still held out, but the bulk
Speaker 1: of the vanguard was either dead or fleeing for the
Speaker 1: line of transports and technicals that stretched back to the Brazos.
Speaker 1: It felt like the rest of the army had started
Speaker 1: the slow process of halting and reversing its advance. The
Speaker 1: Kingdom had decided to pull back. Are you done or not,
Speaker 1: Roland asked an evil voice in the back of his head.
Speaker 1: If you're not done, if you want more, you'd better
Speaker 1: go get it. Roland leaned back. He looked from skullfucker
Speaker 1: Mike took a shore and finally to Topaz. Then he
Speaker 1: reached behind him, grabbed a busted rifle he could use
Speaker 1: as a club, and stood up Rowland. No, skulfucker, Mike
Speaker 1: started to say. Roland didn't hear the rest. He bolted
Speaker 1: off as fast as he could run in the direction
Speaker 1: of the fleeing martyrs. Sasha it was amazing how much
Speaker 1: she could tell about the course of the battle just
Speaker 1: from watching the faces of its casualties. The pace of
Speaker 1: the killing had escalated to a certain level and then
Speaker 1: started to slowly fall. More and more of the men
Speaker 1: died with their backs to the enemy running. Sasha guessed
Speaker 1: that meant the army or at least a lot of
Speaker 1: it had started to break. The pace of death slowed
Speaker 1: to a trickle. Well, then Donald Ferris grumbled, it seems
Speaker 1: like that's more or less settled. I'm going to get
Speaker 1: us another round. I think we've all eaten enough, guild father.
Speaker 1: He stopped, his jaw dropped. Oh no. Sasha turned back
Speaker 1: to the screen to see that the roll of the
Speaker 1: dead had started to increase again. These men were running too,
Speaker 1: but most of them weren't dying to arranged weaponry. They
Speaker 1: were being grabbed from behind, ripped apart, or club to
Speaker 1: death by something moving far too fast for humanized to
Speaker 1: focus on. Roland Manny said in a dull voice filled
Speaker 1: with sorrow. Sasha scanned the faces of her table mates.
Speaker 1: Manny looked almost overwhelmed with guilt. His eyes were watery,
Speaker 1: and he just kept shaking his head and muttering to himself.
Speaker 1: Nanni Yazzi's mouth was closed, her face looked tight and
Speaker 1: frozen in horror. Donald Ferris was quite clearly furious. His
Speaker 1: face was so red. Sasha worried his heart might give out,
Speaker 1: and yet she felt nothing. That's curious, isn't it. Sasha
Speaker 1: could remember how angry she'd gotten as a girl when
Speaker 1: she read some story about anti Christian brutality and Turkey
Speaker 1: or Illinois. She remembered being horrified by the executions she
Speaker 1: had witnessed, but she could only picture her emotional state
Speaker 1: and those moments from a great distance, as if she
Speaker 1: were staring at it through the fogged up lens of
Speaker 1: a telescope. Why am I not angry? Why am I
Speaker 1: not horrified? Her concern over this fact actually generated a
Speaker 1: stronger emotional reaction than anything happening out on that battlefield.
Speaker 1: Sasha stared out at the cameras and the continuing parade
Speaker 1: of violence. She heard Manny cursing under his breath. She
Speaker 1: heard Nana Yazi fight back a sob, but Sasha felt nothing,
Speaker 1: save perhaps a bit of jealousy. Rowland, the scene out
Speaker 1: by the Brasos felt less like a battlefield and more
Speaker 1: like a playground. This might be the highest I've ever been,
Speaker 1: he thought, as he broke a man's neck with the
Speaker 1: back of his hand. Bullets whizzed by as a few
Speaker 1: of the Braver soldiers tried to cover the retreat of
Speaker 1: their comrades. Most of them, even the drivers, had abandoned
Speaker 1: their transports. Hundreds of men were already wading into the river,
Speaker 1: tearing off their armor and tossing aside their weapons as
Speaker 1: they plunged in. The Heavenly Kingdom's army would not rally
Speaker 1: any time soon. A martyr turned and drew his knife
Speaker 1: in a feeble attempt at resistance. Roland caved in the
Speaker 1: man's stern hum with a fist and squashed his heart
Speaker 1: like a june bug. Ten meters ahead, he saw three
Speaker 1: soldiers preparing to make their stand behind, and overt earned
Speaker 1: a flatbed truck. As he ran, Roland grabbed at his
Speaker 1: garded rifle off the ground, a Thompson submachine gun. He
Speaker 1: realized it didn't feel like a reproduction either. Roland brought
Speaker 1: the gun up to his shoulder. The Thompson gun bucked
Speaker 1: in his hand. Roland laughed as he danced through the
Speaker 1: Charnel house that had once been a forward operating bass.
Speaker 1: Most of the National guardsmen were dead, but his nose
Speaker 1: told him one of them was still in the game.
Speaker 1: Roland turned past a hesco and saw the young man
Speaker 1: propped half up against a pile of sandbags. The boy
Speaker 1: held a hand to a bleeding hole in his gut.
Speaker 1: His black face was bloodless, pale, and young, so young.
Speaker 1: Roland didn't know if he'd ever seen a soldier who
Speaker 1: looked that young. There was something familiar about the boy's face, Rowland,
Speaker 1: the kid said, and recognition dawned in Roland's eyes, and
Speaker 1: then he was back. He was about fifty yards further
Speaker 1: ahead than he'd been before he blacked out. The Thompson
Speaker 1: gun was still in his hand, pointed at a man
Speaker 1: twelve yards to his left who was scrambling to get
Speaker 1: a wire guided rocket launcher into a ring position. Roland
Speaker 1: put a bullet through his brain. He turned past the
Speaker 1: burning wreckage of a semi truck. A dozen bullets impacted
Speaker 1: his chest inside. Then three martyrs charged him. Their bayonets fixed.
Speaker 1: The hit wasn't bad, nothing but a flesh wound schofucker.
Speaker 1: Mike looked worse. He lost most of his left arm.
Speaker 1: Topaz had taken three rounds to the dome, but she
Speaker 1: was still firing her dragon off. Roland's mind stretched into
Speaker 1: the city of Dallas around them. There were a lot
Speaker 1: of men coming their way, but those men were mostly
Speaker 1: police swat officers, nothing substantial, no one who could stop
Speaker 1: them from getting this bomb. Where it needed to go.
Speaker 1: Roland screamed as he broke his Thompson gun over the
Speaker 1: head of another martyr. Then he reeled back and dropped
Speaker 1: the gun. That last memory had felt different, like it
Speaker 1: unlocked something. Roland shook his head. The last martyr in
Speaker 1: front of him broken ran. Roland didn't even think to
Speaker 1: chase him. His head hurt in a way he couldn't
Speaker 1: remember it ever hurting before. What the hell is going on?
Speaker 1: It had all started the second he'd thought about the bomb.
Speaker 1: As small as nukes go, just about one megaton. It
Speaker 1: matches the ones that fought Leonarwood. The Guardian already released
Speaker 1: the hacked documents showing the government considered bombing several of
Speaker 1: the separatist camps. I think we can trust the American
Speaker 1: people to put two and two together, Jim smiled. Roland
Speaker 1: did not. This was his plan, but he didn't like it.
Speaker 1: He knew, though, that it was the only way forward
Speaker 1: for the revolution. There has to be another way, said
Speaker 1: skullfucker Mike. This feels wrong, really really wrong. The floodgates
Speaker 1: of Roland's mind opened, and a tidal wave of memory
Speaker 1: swept him away. He dropped to his knees, the martyrs
Speaker 1: around him continued to flee, too shocked and awed to
Speaker 1: take advantage of his vulnerability. The battle drugs were gone now,
Speaker 1: or at least he couldn't feel them anymore. Hundreds of
Speaker 1: memories assaulted his consciousness thousands. For the first time in years,
Speaker 1: Roland knew who he'd been, who he was again. I'm back,
Speaker 1: Roland stood. He took one halting step forward, and then another,
Speaker 1: and then he leaned against the frame of a broken
Speaker 1: ABC for a little while as he pictured his mother's
Speaker 1: face and voice for the first time in years. He
Speaker 1: wanted to sob, but there was no time. He knew
Speaker 1: who he was now, and he knew what he was
Speaker 1: bound to do if he stayed this way. Roland's conscience
Speaker 1: wouldn't allow that, so he trudged forward until he found
Speaker 1: the right tool, a handheld grenade launcher clutched in the
Speaker 1: dead hands of a martyr. He took the weapon and
Speaker 1: sat cross legged and the blood soaked Texas dirt. Roland
Speaker 1: looked up at the sky one last time and allowed
Speaker 1: himself a long moment to remember his parents and his
Speaker 1: brother in the day he and Topaz had first met,
Speaker 1: and then he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Manny,
Speaker 1: Nanny Yazi, Sasha, Donald Ferris, and Manny had all rushed
Speaker 1: to a transport as soon as Roland's face showed up
Speaker 1: on the screen. It seems the drones either didn't know
Speaker 1: or didn't care enough to separate dead friends from dead foes.
Speaker 1: Maybe that was the point Nanayazi drove. It took about
Speaker 1: six minutes for the shiny green jeep to make its
Speaker 1: way over the broken roads and towards the side of
Speaker 1: the battle. No one spoke they reached the battlefield. There
Speaker 1: are so many dead people. Manny had seen a lot
Speaker 1: of carnage in his life, but nothing like this. The
Speaker 1: stinches of burning flesh, opened bowls, and burning fuel were
Speaker 1: so overwhelming they almost knocked him down. Donald Ferris and
Speaker 1: Nana Yazzi looked just as queasy. Only Sasha whethered the
Speaker 1: sights and smells with calm. She stayed focused enough to
Speaker 1: spot skullfuckor Mike and the mess and direct Nana Yazzi
Speaker 1: his way. Rolling Fox soldiers were out in force. They
Speaker 1: stalked through the killing fields in groups of four or five,
Speaker 1: searching for survivors or just looking for loot. Mike stood
Speaker 1: with Topaz and Cashore, and a couple of chrombed Manny
Speaker 1: didn't recognize. Most of them were seated by a handful
Speaker 1: of large metal crates in the center of what had
Speaker 1: once been a large playground. Oh God, the dead men
Speaker 1: here had been torn apart. There was so much blood,
Speaker 1: more than Manny had ever seen. It sluiced around on
Speaker 1: the concrete like some sort of macab kittie pool. The
Speaker 1: jeep came to a wet stop in front of the group.
Speaker 1: The act of breakings into spray of gore out across
Speaker 1: skullfucker Mike's legs. Hey, he said, what are you all
Speaker 1: doing here? Rowland? Manny said, what happened to Rowland? Mike
Speaker 1: looked confused. Topaz raised his head up to look out
Speaker 1: at them. Many was surprised to see tears rolling down
Speaker 1: his face. His lip trembled a bit, but when he
Speaker 1: spoke there was steel and fury in his voice. He
Speaker 1: decided to keep killing. I'm sure he's still killing now. No,
Speaker 1: Manny said, he's dead, or that's what the drone said.
Speaker 1: We have to find him. Get out of that seat,
Speaker 1: Mike said to Nanny Izzie, I'm driving in an instant.
Speaker 1: Topaz his tears stopped, and before Manny could say anything,
Speaker 1: Topaz hopped into the back seat of the jeep. Fast.
Speaker 1: Topaz told skullfucker Mike as he took over from Nana Yazzi,
Speaker 1: go very fast. It didn't take long to find him.
Speaker 1: Roland's route through the army was painted in red. Hundreds
Speaker 1: of dead men, maybe more than a thousand, made a
Speaker 1: clear path with their corpses. That path didn't end until
Speaker 1: they were almost at the brazos and they saw where
Speaker 1: Roland had fallen. Roland's armored body was splayed out limp
Speaker 1: next to the carcass of an old semi truck. There
Speaker 1: were two very dead men directly in front of him,
Speaker 1: but neither of them looked to have done him in.
Speaker 1: Roland hadn't gone down to enemy fire. He jammed a
Speaker 1: very large gun in his mouth and blown the top
Speaker 1: off of his head. To all signs and to all logic,
Speaker 1: he looked dead. Donald Ferris shook his head and muttered something.
Speaker 1: Sasha just stared. Nana Yazzi put her hand on Manny's shoulder.
Speaker 1: He was she started to say, but she was interrupted
Speaker 1: by Roland as he lifted his ruined head up to
Speaker 1: look at them. His eyes were still in foe. Blood
Speaker 1: drooled down his nose, out of his mouth, and down
Speaker 1: from the gaping exit wound in his forehead. He spat
Speaker 1: out several teeth. Many saw daylight through his skull, but
Speaker 1: still Roland was able to speak. How the funk are
Speaker 1: you people? He asked, m M. This is Roxanne Gay,
Speaker 1: the host of The Roxanne Gay Agenda, the bad feminist
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Speaker 1: Tuesday on the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or
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Speaker 1: Last season on Lethal Lit, you might remember, I came
Speaker 1: to Hollow Falls on a mission clearing my aunt best
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Speaker 1: I'm tig Torres. This is Lethal Lit. Catch up on
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