Speaker 1: Chapter eleven, Rowland Roland loved fighting men in powered armor.
Speaker 1: The increased firepower and durability gave them an outside chance,
Speaker 1: which made it fun, and the sheer expense of modern
Speaker 1: suits made it feel a little like wailing on rich
Speaker 1: kids with fancy toys. But Roland did not like fighting
Speaker 1: normal humans. He'd hoped the infantry coming up behind the
Speaker 1: armored troopers would run like hell once he popped their vanguard,
Speaker 1: but instead they'd insisted on a fight and started shooting
Speaker 1: at him with very large guns. One explosive munition had
Speaker 1: hit nine yards ahead of his position, and the other
Speaker 1: had impacted close enough to pepper Roland's torso and face
Speaker 1: with shrapnel, so regretfully he charged the enemy. The martyr
Speaker 1: shot back. They hit him a few times, but Roland
Speaker 1: paid their bullets as much mind as he would a
Speaker 1: mild rein. He drew close enough for visual contact. These
Speaker 1: martyrs were a motley sight. Several of them fought shirtless,
Speaker 1: with white crosses daubed across their chests. Most of them
Speaker 1: wore body armor, very little of it. Modern. Roland saw
Speaker 1: a lot of old pre war plate carriers and surplus
Speaker 1: police vests that crap wouldn't stop military grade rifle rounds,
Speaker 1: although since the only weapon in Roland's hand was a
Speaker 1: big gas wrench, how these men were armored hardly mattered.
Speaker 1: They were mostly armed with old enforce and a smattering
Speaker 1: of newer assault rifles, probably pilfered from the Republic of Texas.
Speaker 1: Fifty men, six technicals, two drone carriers. Roland hit their
Speaker 1: skirmishing line before the teams on the recoilist rifles. His
Speaker 1: first target could reload. Roland's wrench broke jaws and orbital bones.
Speaker 1: It cracked pelvises and shattered thighs. He dispatched the rifle
Speaker 1: teams and then danced through the on rushing mob of
Speaker 1: militia like some sort of compound fracture dispensing ballerina. And
Speaker 1: as he fought, Roland felt the familiar sunlight warmth of
Speaker 1: serotonin flowed his synapses. He remembered a little of how
Speaker 1: the army had explained the battle. Drugs now flowing through
Speaker 1: his brain a guarantee of sustained aggression. The longer he fought,
Speaker 1: the harder would be for him to stop fighting and
Speaker 1: to avoid killing. Rowland felt his self control will begin
Speaker 1: to fade. As he knocked out his dozenth martyr, he
Speaker 1: started swinging harder, his blows increasingly connected with clavicles instead
Speaker 1: of coxyxes, and jaws instead of elbows. His hindbrain warned him.
Speaker 1: As the kill likelihoods jumped from ford to six percent
Speaker 1: up to twenty thirty, he felt his conscience fade beneath
Speaker 1: the uphoric red haze of narcotic splendor. Before he knew it,
Speaker 1: the whole platoon of martyrs was either on the ground
Speaker 1: or fleeing for the relative safety of their technicals. Roland
Speaker 1: laughed a madman's laughed. Tickled that they thought a bunch
Speaker 1: of old Toyota trucks with machine guns in the beds
Speaker 1: might slow him down. He put a fist through the
Speaker 1: engine block of one and made a burst of fifty
Speaker 1: caliber fire from the other. As he pivoted and launched
Speaker 1: his wrench through the driver's side window. The improvised missile
Speaker 1: connected with the face of the driver, who spun his
Speaker 1: wheel hard to the left. The truck flipped forward onto
Speaker 1: its cabin. Something about the wet crunch had maid sounded
Speaker 1: so familiar. Oh God, oh dear sweet Jesus, Please, sir,
Speaker 1: The National guardsman was nineteen years old. Randall Pallas was
Speaker 1: his name. Roland knew that because his hindbrain had sucked
Speaker 1: in every piece of publicly available data on the boy
Speaker 1: once it had scanned his face. It had done that
Speaker 1: with all the occupants of the humvey and the four
Speaker 1: seconds before Rowland had blown it on its side. Wallace
Speaker 1: was just the only member of the crew unlucky enough
Speaker 1: to survive. Please, Sir, Roland stepped towards the broken, bloody boy.
Speaker 1: He came back to himself, a bit disoriented, but none
Speaker 1: the worse for wear. His hindbrain and a lifetime of
Speaker 1: combat memories had kept his body fighting in his mind's absence.
Speaker 1: Now wrinchless, Roland used his bare hands to tear open
Speaker 1: doors and break faces. The gunners on the remaining technicals
Speaker 1: tried to fire back, but their maneuverability was limited by
Speaker 1: the rubble choked streets and their own fleeing infantry. One
Speaker 1: minute after first contact, the martyr contingent had been reduced
Speaker 1: to a dozen shell shocked soldiers, piled hastily on to
Speaker 1: the tops of the retreating drone carriers. Roland hopped onto
Speaker 1: the last of the technicals. He disabled it by pulling
Speaker 1: the driver out through the front windshield and using the
Speaker 1: man's body to beat the gunner into unconsciousness. Roland tore
Speaker 1: the vehicle's twenty millimeter cannon free from its swivel mount
Speaker 1: and sided in on the fleeing troops. His synapses promised
Speaker 1: him more chemical rewards if only he'd pulled the trigger,
Speaker 1: but something in Roland's forebrains stopped him. Under the joyous
Speaker 1: miasma of the battle drugs, his conscience reasserted itself. He
Speaker 1: lowered his weapon and watched as his enemies beat hell
Speaker 1: for leather in the opposite direction. His hands shook, and
Speaker 1: he felt the first symptoms of withdrawal. As his heart
Speaker 1: rate dropped and the adrenaline drips stopped its flow, Roland
Speaker 1: closed his eyes. He breathed in and out, and centered himself.
Speaker 1: The crash came. Now that the fighting was done, Roland
Speaker 1: had time to process the since data he'd pulled from
Speaker 1: his enemies. He knew what the driver he'd ripped out
Speaker 1: of the windshield had eaten for breakfast. He knew which
Speaker 1: of the militia he'd crippled were fathers. He knew which
Speaker 1: had wives or at least girl friends. He could smell
Speaker 1: traces of football leather on some of their hands. One
Speaker 1: man he'd wrenched had smelled of rosin a violinist. Roland
Speaker 1: couldn't fight a man without learning much more about him
Speaker 1: than any killer should know about their victims. That knowledge
Speaker 1: crashed down on him in a hail storm of guilt.
Speaker 1: Roland dropped the cannon into the truck's bed. He hopped down,
Speaker 1: pulled Sardar's wrench free from the wreck of the Second Technical,
Speaker 1: and headed back towards Biggsby and his squad with a
Speaker 1: heavy heart. Madine and Asimee both looked pretty seriously wounded.
Speaker 1: Biggsby was helping to carry them both back to the
Speaker 1: APC while Will handled over watch with his grenade launcher.
Speaker 1: Roland caught up with them and fell into step. Biggsby
Speaker 1: looked over at him and grunted, Are you gonna try
Speaker 1: to take my nipple now? Roland shrugged. He wasn't in
Speaker 1: the mood. His brain was in the dark, ugly place
Speaker 1: it always went after a bloody fight, when the raw
Speaker 1: data about all the men he'd killed or battered lingered
Speaker 1: in his brain like a fart in the back of
Speaker 1: a hum v They reached the APC. Sardar gasped when
Speaker 1: he saw them, Pedro vomited. Roland was confused until he
Speaker 1: realized Biggsby and Will had also started to stare. Roland
Speaker 1: looked down at himself and saw that he looked like
Speaker 1: a literal dead man walking. He'd been shot forty seven
Speaker 1: times by his hindbrain's best count, and peppered with shrapnel.
Speaker 1: Top of that, he had ribbs showing through holes blasted
Speaker 1: in his biceps, in his belly, and the bone on
Speaker 1: his left thigh was completely exposed. It looks worse than
Speaker 1: it is, Roland said, it looks like you should be
Speaker 1: dead about five times over, Sardar replied. Roland looked Sardar
Speaker 1: up and down. His hind brain did the math eleven times.
Speaker 1: If I were you, Jesus, he handed Sarda the wrench,
Speaker 1: now dented and bloodstained. A large clump of hair and
Speaker 1: scalp was still stuck to the heel jaw. The mechanic
Speaker 1: took his tool with one hesitant hand. He stared at
Speaker 1: the gore on it until Biggsby started to yell again,
Speaker 1: Oi fucos. In case you've forgotten, there's an army breathing
Speaker 1: up our asses. Sar, you get to drive man, Sardar
Speaker 1: NodD at his head. Then let's get the wounded in
Speaker 1: the cab and power the funk out of here. Will
Speaker 1: stay on watch. Will grunted and jerked his head at Roland.
Speaker 1: This funk erota cover us. He just took out half
Speaker 1: a company on his lonesome. You trust him to watch
Speaker 1: your six Biggsby, asked Roland. Only half heard them. He
Speaker 1: stared off into the distance. We're his jaw and clenched
Speaker 1: his left fist so hard his finger nails drew blood.
Speaker 1: He was lost in his head, scanning scent memories and
Speaker 1: analyzing the men he'd just beaten. He was drawn again
Speaker 1: and again to the memory of one man in particular.
Speaker 1: He'd worn a tattered U. S Army issue vest and
Speaker 1: an M sixteen that posed as much of a threat
Speaker 1: to Rowland as a drunken hornet. He'd had the scent
Speaker 1: of a woman on him. He wasn't alone in that,
Speaker 1: but the rich wave of oxytocin that had poured off
Speaker 1: him was intense and real. In his memory. The man's
Speaker 1: face kept twisting and morphing into the face of Randall Wallace,
Speaker 1: Roland started to cry. Bigsby and Sardar loaded Ryan, Nadine,
Speaker 1: and Asime into the transport. Will just stared at him,
Speaker 1: his gaze locked on Roland's tears, as if each one
Speaker 1: were the lockneest monster. Roland didn't care. His hind brain
Speaker 1: kept up its glitchy feet of data, a mix of
Speaker 1: information on the men he'd just killed and the men
Speaker 1: he'd killed years ago. Once the wounded were loaded up,
Speaker 1: everyone filed into the Maddis APC. Will popped the top
Speaker 1: hatch and sat Gunner with his grenade launcher. Inside the APC,
Speaker 1: Bigsby and Pedro did their best version of first aid
Speaker 1: on their wounded companions. There wasn't much for them to do,
Speaker 1: though everyone in the squad had fairly advanced healing suites.
Speaker 1: Roland trudged into the a PC and took his seat.
Speaker 1: No one made eye contact with him. Sardark kicked it
Speaker 1: into gear, and off they went. Waco had always been
Speaker 1: one of the worst cities in Texas. In the late
Speaker 1: eighteen hundreds, that had been a refuge for former Confederate loyalists.
Speaker 1: In the nineteen hundreds, that had developed a reputation as
Speaker 1: a haven for coups and religious extremists. Caught between the
Speaker 1: economic powerhouse of Dallas and the relative cultural mecca of Austin.
Speaker 1: Waco was a second rate college town at best, and
Speaker 1: at worst, a meth filled rest stop between Texas's good cities.
Speaker 1: The revolution had changed that. After the lake would blast,
Speaker 1: Dallas had bled sixty percent of its population. Most of
Speaker 1: those people had fled to Austin since constant flooding had
Speaker 1: rendered much of Houston uninhabitable, but half a million of
Speaker 1: them ish had swelled Waco into something resembling a worthwhile
Speaker 1: place to exist. The city had thrived in the post
Speaker 1: revolutionary years. It was nominally controlled by the Austin regional government,
Speaker 1: and so it had been spared the worst of the
Speaker 1: Republic of Texas's corruption. But now it looked like Waco
Speaker 1: would be the next city eaten by the expanding Heavenly Kingdom.
Speaker 1: Roland could smell the stink of fear in the air
Speaker 1: when they were still a half dozen miles out from
Speaker 1: the city limits. Once they hit the city proper, their
Speaker 1: convoy halted at a military checkpoint. Power armored Austin Republican
Speaker 1: guardsmen opened the side hatch of the Maddis a PC
Speaker 1: and inspected the squad bigsby spoke for them, beamed over
Speaker 1: some credentials from the SDF, and they were waved in.
Speaker 1: They stopped at a fueling depot with the rest of
Speaker 1: the SDF column, and Roland hopped out of the a
Speaker 1: PC to stretch his legs and roll another blunt. He
Speaker 1: picked a cherry apple rap he dipped in a vat
Speaker 1: of extra strength hydrocodone syrup earlier that morning. As he
Speaker 1: rolled it tight and sealed the scene with his saliva,
Speaker 1: he watched the stf unload hundreds of wounded warriors from
Speaker 1: half tracks and a PC's in the beds of flatbed trucks.
Speaker 1: Many of the walking men and women looked wounded too.
Speaker 1: Most of the vehicles were damaged. Roland lit the blunt
Speaker 1: and stared off towards Dallas. It was still early in
Speaker 1: the morning, and the sky was streaked with red and orange.
Speaker 1: On the horizon, black smoke rose to meet the sunrise.
Speaker 1: Rowland was struck with a powerful sense of dejah vou.
Speaker 1: This wasn't the first time he'd watched a great city
Speaker 1: burn in the light of the rising sun. According to
Speaker 1: his hind brain, it was around the thirtieth time. He
Speaker 1: recalled a few of those cities Denver, Baltimore, d C. Richmond,
Speaker 1: but the particulars of each calamity were lost to his memory.
Speaker 1: He wondered, not for the first time, if his broken
Speaker 1: brain might be a blessing boy it was, Sardar. He
Speaker 1: approached from the rear and stepped up to Roland's right side.
Speaker 1: Rowland offered the mechanic his blunt, now half smoked, and
Speaker 1: Sardar accepted it. He drew in a deep lungful of
Speaker 1: medicated smoke, held it in his lungs for three long seconds,
Speaker 1: and then exhaled with only a small fit of coughing.
Speaker 1: It tastes like fucking cough, Sarah man. Yep. Roland agreed,
Speaker 1: there's enough opiates on that to kill a small cat.
Speaker 1: That's a weird thing to say. Yep, Roland agreed. Sardar
Speaker 1: took a second hit and then passed the blunt back
Speaker 1: to Roland. They stood in companionable silence for a minute
Speaker 1: and watched the distant smoke mingle with the morning light.
Speaker 1: Sardar spoke first, Jim's on his way out here. He's
Speaker 1: flying in with three more squads. Austin's approved emergency funding
Speaker 1: to stabilize the front. Apparently a chunk of that's coming
Speaker 1: our way. Grats, said Roland. Then he asked, what's the
Speaker 1: money mean, do you? Sardar shrugged, Cascadia. Probably been saving
Speaker 1: for a couple of years. Now, fifty grand buy residency.
Speaker 1: Another hundred grand or so to set me up for
Speaker 1: the first year while I find work. Roland finished another
Speaker 1: deep poll on the blunt and offered it to Sardar.
Speaker 1: The other man declined with a polite wave of his hand.
Speaker 1: Now thanks. Roland puffed again and asked, so, what's the
Speaker 1: Pacific Northwest got that you want the future? Sardar said,
Speaker 1: I mean, that's what it always meant my head. I
Speaker 1: grew up in al Passo, got trained up by that
Speaker 1: army blooded in their first little civil war, the a
Speaker 1: Albuquerque Secession. Right, Sardar nodded. Didn't see much action then,
Speaker 1: but I got Jim's attention. He made me an offer
Speaker 1: when my term of service expired. The idea was I'd
Speaker 1: be with him for five years and retire with enough
Speaker 1: money to make a new start out west. I always
Speaker 1: dreamed of a life in Portland. It seems nice there,
Speaker 1: it is. Roland agreed, or at least I got nice memories.
Speaker 1: I met a girl out there when I was younger.
Speaker 1: I remember watching the fog rolland with her he ran
Speaker 1: a hand over the stubble on his head. It was
Speaker 1: weird to him that he'd been given so much control
Speaker 1: over his bodily functions, and yet he still found himself
Speaker 1: making nervous gestures. For some reason, talking about her made
Speaker 1: him want to cover his face. The impulse was wired
Speaker 1: into him deeper than the carbon fiber that laced his bones.
Speaker 1: That er sounds tough, Sardar said. He managed to look
Speaker 1: concerned without showing pity. I can't imagine having all these
Speaker 1: memories floating around with no through line to connect them together.
Speaker 1: It must hurt, Roland shrugged. What hurts most is knowing
Speaker 1: that it should hurt more. I don't remember enough to
Speaker 1: give the pain its proper due. They were quiet for
Speaker 1: a bit. Roland finished the blunt and put it out
Speaker 1: on his right and next finger, Sardar pulled a bronze
Speaker 1: flask out from his jacket pocket, took a belt, and
Speaker 1: then offered it to Roland. It was Lafroy whiskey. Even
Speaker 1: if he hadn't been chromeed to the gills, Rowland would
Speaker 1: have recognized that smell from three feet away. He took
Speaker 1: a gulp from the flask and passed it back. Sardar
Speaker 1: broke the silence again. Look, maybe I'm reading things wrong,
Speaker 1: but we've got some tents set up near the a PC.
Speaker 1: You up for a fuck? Roland looked the man up
Speaker 1: and down again. Sardar was a good looking guy, short,
Speaker 1: broad and muscular, with a neat trimmed beard and curly
Speaker 1: black hair. Yeah, all right, it was pretty good sex.
Speaker 1: Nothing to blow Roland's mind, but the release provided a
Speaker 1: quantum of chill to calm the pangs of memory. Afterwards,
Speaker 1: Sardar fell asleep, nuzzled into his shoulder. Roland didn't particularly
Speaker 1: feel like cuddling, but he since the other man needed
Speaker 1: the human contact, so he laid there with him for
Speaker 1: a couple of hours, rolled and smoked two more blunts,
Speaker 1: and tried not to think about the lives he'd ended
Speaker 1: that morning. A little afternoon, Biggsby came by and knocked
Speaker 1: on the tent flap Czar, Roland, elife's here, clean up, ye,
Speaker 1: fuck stenk and meet us by the a PC. They
Speaker 1: did five minutes later, the whole squad had assembled around
Speaker 1: the maddis. Ryan looked more or less recovered from his injuries,
Speaker 1: Asimee also seemed good as new. Nadine was still pretty
Speaker 1: bandaged and her eyes were litted and unfocussed from blood
Speaker 1: loss and opiates. Will had brewed up a large French
Speaker 1: press of coffee. He busied himself pouring measures of it
Speaker 1: out into himp foam cups. Roland took one and drained
Speaker 1: it in a single mighty gulp. It was proper post
Speaker 1: human strength coffee. The caffeine rush mingled with the opiates
Speaker 1: and THHC already flooding his synapses, and brought him to
Speaker 1: a lovely, half lucid state of quasi awareness. Did you
Speaker 1: guys fuck? Pedro finally asked, after about a minute of
Speaker 1: staring at Roland and Tardar and asking the same question
Speaker 1: with his eyes. Yes. Biggsby and Nadine both replied. Sardar
Speaker 1: laughed at that, so did Rowland. For one beautiful moment
Speaker 1: he felt nice, a kind of nice he was pretty
Speaker 1: sure he hadn't felt in a long time. And then
Speaker 1: came a familiar pattern of bootsteps, tickling, Roland's ears. Jim
Speaker 1: Roland turned just as Jim walked into view. His legs
Speaker 1: were covered by a pair of armored red leather chaps.
Speaker 1: His groin was wrapped up in a thick kevlar thong,
Speaker 1: but his penis and ass were otherwise unguarded. He wore
Speaker 1: a double shoulder holster with a pair of bone handled
Speaker 1: wheelguns under his arms. The snake tattoos on Jim's chest
Speaker 1: and shoulders danced to a melody Rowland eventually recognized as Lakucaracha.
Speaker 1: Your ink looks good today, boss, said, Bigsby asked liquor, said,
Speaker 1: Sardar takes one to no one. I don't lick ass,
Speaker 1: Sarda replied haughtily. I eat it like a starving hyena.
Speaker 1: More laughter and another fleeting moment of community that was
Speaker 1: broken when Jim addressed the squad. All right, so several
Speaker 1: bunks have been hummed here. This heavenly Kingdom's got at
Speaker 1: least ten thousand effectives in theater with Almah artillery drones
Speaker 1: the works. A new employer, Austin has about three thousand
Speaker 1: fighters here in Waco, plus now the fifteen au Lot
Speaker 1: I flew in with AJAX and flooring. They're prepping their
Speaker 1: squads now. Bigsby spat Ajax fights about as well as
Speaker 1: a drunk dog in a burlap sack. Will replied, you
Speaker 1: just saying that because he choked you out in the
Speaker 1: blood Dume last year. Biggsby responded with a middle finger. Ahem.
Speaker 1: Jim hemmed, plenty of time for Dick, measuring later, time
Speaker 1: enough for the rest of you. At least this city
Speaker 1: doesn't have a ruler long enough for my dick. He
Speaker 1: paused for a laugh. No one obliged. Jim rolled his eyes,
Speaker 1: ass holes. So look, we're in a bad position with
Speaker 1: funk All for reinforcements coming in. Austin might be able
Speaker 1: to scrape up a couple of Italians if they suddenly
Speaker 1: clear out the Houston front, but that don't look likely.
Speaker 1: Enemy has another ten thousand men there. Fuck. Startar was
Speaker 1: the only one to actually say it, but everyone else
Speaker 1: in the group mouth the word or some equivalent curse.
Speaker 1: How is that even possible? As Amee's voice was still
Speaker 1: a little slurred from the painkillers, but her eyes were
Speaker 1: focused now. Jim shrugged hard to say exactly masked affections
Speaker 1: from the Republic at Texas Intel suspects the u c
Speaker 1: S probably sent in some spec ops guys. I don't know,
Speaker 1: some sort of skulduggerous bullshit went down. The how of
Speaker 1: it ain't really our problem today, but now we've got
Speaker 1: to deal with the reality. The snakes on Jim's torso
Speaker 1: stopped writhing. He locked eyes with Roland, and Rowland felt
Speaker 1: compelled to meet his old friend's gaze. Can we count
Speaker 1: on your help? Jim asked, fuck no. Roland said, I've
Speaker 1: killed enough naive young men today. I don't aim to
Speaker 1: kill anymore. To his rise, Jim nodded an acceptance, understandable.
Speaker 1: This kind of fighting was a violation of our contract.
Speaker 1: I regret that, Rowland. If I'd known this was going
Speaker 1: to be a meat grinder, I wouldn't have interrupted your retirement.
Speaker 1: Roland wasn't sure he believed that, but he kept his
Speaker 1: mouth shut as Jim continued, I'd like to propose a
Speaker 1: renegotiation of our contract in a lot of the changing
Speaker 1: situation on the ground. I'm not blowing anything else up
Speaker 1: for you. That's fine. Jim put his hands out in
Speaker 1: the sort of placating gesture one would use on an
Speaker 1: angry dog. I don't need you killing us. I need
Speaker 1: you sneakiness. You can still take faces right. Roland's memories
Speaker 1: of his time in the army were as patchy as
Speaker 1: his memories of everything else. He didn't remember much about
Speaker 1: how they'd used him, but he knew that some of
Speaker 1: the wet where they'd installed in him allowed him to
Speaker 1: modify his skin and bone structure to full facial recognition scanners,
Speaker 1: thumb print readers, and of course human beings. Yes, he said,
Speaker 1: but Jim cut him off. You don't need to kill anyone.
Speaker 1: The face you'll need is already dead. And what do
Speaker 1: you want me to do with this man's face that
Speaker 1: isn't more murder? Jim's lips curled up into a grin.
Speaker 1: The expression sent shivers arching down Roland's spine. He felt
Speaker 1: like he'd seen that grin before. Never proceeding good things.
Speaker 1: Rolling Fuck is near by and in the city of
Speaker 1: Wheels a six hundred or so real scary bastards. I
Speaker 1: have it on good authority that they'd be happy to
Speaker 1: throw down on our side. But it turns out some
Speaker 1: of the negotiators were captured back at the start all
Speaker 1: this ship. No one in the city will risk fighting
Speaker 1: until they pulled out safely. Roland raised an eyebrow. So
Speaker 1: a rescue mission, then that's right, Jim grinned in a
Speaker 1: way Roland didn't quite trust you'll be saving lives. Roland's
Speaker 1: gut twisted into knots. The shades of a thousand Memories
Speaker 1: spoke up and warned him not to trust Jim at
Speaker 1: his word. But those shades also drove him to take
Speaker 1: Jim up on the offer. He wanted his memories back.
Speaker 1: Jim smiled that hackle, Ray and smile again. You don't
Speaker 1: have to agree and come to rolland Funk with me.
Speaker 1: We'll talk things over with the Eldas. You can do
Speaker 1: some of the fancy space drugs, and then you can
Speaker 1: make your decision. All right, rolland Side, but only because
Speaker 1: you said fancy space drugs. They flew to Rolling Funk
Speaker 1: in Jim's hellicraft. It had been military issue originally, but
Speaker 1: the interior had been redone to Jim's tastes. That mostly
Speaker 1: meant a lot of the lure and a full wet bar.
Speaker 1: There were four beers on tap just to the right
Speaker 1: of a double barreled thirty five millimeter grenade launcher mounted
Speaker 1: beside the door. Roland drank for the duration of the
Speaker 1: ten minute flight. You know, Jim said, Topez lives there now,
Speaker 1: been with the city a while Topaz, Roland asked. Something
Speaker 1: shuddered in his gut. He felt his hippocampus flicker with
Speaker 1: the dim light of recognition. He saw that face again,
Speaker 1: the woman from so many of his dreams and a
Speaker 1: few of his shattered memories. That was her name, It
Speaker 1: felt right now that he knew it again. Do you
Speaker 1: remember her at all, Roland, Jim asked, his voice uncharacteristically tender.
Speaker 1: Roland nodded and swirled the beer in his hands to
Speaker 1: buy some time. I remember snatches of her, he said,
Speaker 1: I remember loving her. I remember enough that it hurts sometimes.
Speaker 1: Mostly it hurts that I don't remember enough to be
Speaker 1: as sad as I ought to be. There was a
Speaker 1: spark of real sorrow in Jim's eyes. The other man's
Speaker 1: hand twitched in a way that made Roland think he
Speaker 1: might have been about to reach out to him, but
Speaker 1: Jim kept his hand to himself. I'm not sure how
Speaker 1: much I should say, he said, I'm sorry. There was
Speaker 1: something in Jim's face when he said that it resembled regret.
Speaker 1: Or guilt, but it passed quickly and nothing else was
Speaker 1: said during the flight. They landed on one of the
Speaker 1: top spires of Rolling Fuck, on a landing pad that
Speaker 1: doubled as a nude bar. He and Jim grabbed another
Speaker 1: round of drinks before they proceeded down through the infinite
Speaker 1: party that was the City of Wheels and on to
Speaker 1: the top of the mad Roller. They grabbed another round
Speaker 1: of drinks there and sat at the bar table while
Speaker 1: Jim waited for the word to go down. It was
Speaker 1: late afternoon by this point, and the evening had started
Speaker 1: to close in. The normal boiling Texas heat was cut
Speaker 1: by a cool breeze. White clouds rolled in around them.
Speaker 1: Roland's hindbrain told him there was at best a twelve
Speaker 1: percent chance of rain, but the clouds were still welcome.
Speaker 1: He and Jim drank in silence for a few minutes
Speaker 1: until the other man tapped his shoulder and said, they
Speaker 1: are ready for us. They stood a bit unsteadily and
Speaker 1: headed towards the ladder down into the main roller. They
Speaker 1: reached the ladder just as two other people came up it,
Speaker 1: a man and a woman. The man's face triggered a
Speaker 1: flurry of memory fragments, fighting back to back in the
Speaker 1: choking streets of Baltimore, drinking heavily on the edge of
Speaker 1: a canyon in the Arizona Desert, charging a riot line
Speaker 1: with pipes and hammers in their hands. A name bubbled
Speaker 1: up from inside the memories. Mike, he shouted, before he
Speaker 1: really thought about it. Hey, brother, schofucker, Mike Froze. Roland
Speaker 1: was already half way to a hug when he realized
Speaker 1: Mike wasn't feeling it. And then he caught his first
Speaker 1: good look at the woman coming up the ladder behind him.
Speaker 1: She had short, cropped teal hair, damascene fangs, and eyes
Speaker 1: so loud he could almost hear her thoughts, Topaz. She
Speaker 1: started to say his name, and then her voice caught
Speaker 1: He heard the ghost of tears beneath it, and then
Speaker 1: she finished, Roland, Yes, he said, not sure of what
Speaker 1: else to say. Do you remember me? No, he admitted.
Speaker 1: Part of him wanted to lie, but he couldn't. The
Speaker 1: broken scraps that remained of his love for her made
Speaker 1: it impossible. So we gave the honest answer, and he
Speaker 1: watched her die a little inside. Topaz nodded, she closed
Speaker 1: her eyes for a second, bit down on her bottom lip,
Speaker 1: and then she put a quick hand on Mike's shoulder
Speaker 1: before she walked away up one of the gantries and
Speaker 1: into the chaos night of rolling fuck. Roland looked to Mike,
Speaker 1: I'm sorry, skullfucker. Mike smiled sadly back, I know, buddy,
Speaker 1: and then he left two. Roland felt confusion and a
Speaker 1: distant hurt. He had a feeling that he should have
Speaker 1: been crying, but for some reason he couldn't, and so
Speaker 1: he didn't. Instead, he took a fistful of OxyContin and
Speaker 1: stumbled down the ladder following Jim rolling Fox. Conference room
Speaker 1: was sumptuous, elegant, and surprisingly professional. Two old people sat
Speaker 1: at the far end of the conference table. Roland had
Speaker 1: a vague memory tingle of having met the man before,
Speaker 1: long ago, but neither of their faces brought a name
Speaker 1: to his mind. Jim introduced them, but their names fled
Speaker 1: his head a few seconds later. In fact, the first
Speaker 1: minute or so of conversation flowed around him in an
Speaker 1: indistinct haze that may have had something to do with
Speaker 1: a soft ball sized mass of oxycontent he'd eaten as
Speaker 1: he'd climbed down the ladder with Jim. Roland had assumed
Speaker 1: the drugs would help him focus through the boredom. Apparently
Speaker 1: he'd miscalculated. Okay, so the old lady said, with a
Speaker 1: hint of finality, that's the situation we're in. Are you
Speaker 1: willing to help us in response? Role and blacked out
Speaker 1: just for a few seconds. He was reawokened by the
Speaker 1: thud of his head hitting the conference room table. Fuck,
Speaker 1: that's good oxy. He wished he could remember where he'd
Speaker 1: gotten it. Oh, dear, said the lady. He's fun, Jim sighed,
Speaker 1: but we've probably gone a need to start over. The
Speaker 1: lady brought him some coffee and reintroduced herself as Nana Yazzi.
Speaker 1: Thanks to the coffee and Roland's clearing head, her name stuck.
Speaker 1: This time. It was hard not to marvel at her age,
Speaker 1: and harder still to stop his hindbrain from calculating how
Speaker 1: much longer till her human heart gave out. Roland smelled
Speaker 1: cancer on the old man, not serious cancer, nothing basic
Speaker 1: medicine couldn't handle, but all the same, the odor that
Speaker 1: wafted off him brought Roland a sort of primal discomfort.
Speaker 1: Or maybe it was the old man's eyes that made
Speaker 1: his guts warble. It was hard to say. There was
Speaker 1: something disconcerting in the way he looked at Roland Rowland,
Speaker 1: Jim shouted. Roland shook himself out of the haze and
Speaker 1: refocused on Nana Yazzi. Sorry, he grunted. It's fine, she said,
Speaker 1: and set into her spiel again. She showed him pictures
Speaker 1: of her captured friends, explained the dire situation in North
Speaker 1: Texas and the doom that marched towards Waco and Austin.
Speaker 1: It was a sad story, but not one that compelled
Speaker 1: Roland to action. Other than Topaz and Skullfucker Mike, the
Speaker 1: citizens of Rolling Funk were total strangers to him. Austin
Speaker 1: was just another little ailing republic in a continent full
Speaker 1: of them. I'm sorry for your people, he told her.
Speaker 1: And I'm sorry for Austin, but I really don't see
Speaker 1: how any of this is MI damn business. Jim took
Speaker 1: those words as his cue. Toullian Topaz are close, said Jim.
Speaker 1: His voice was low, his tone smooth. The silk like
Speaker 1: sisters from what I hear, Marigold vouched for Topaz and
Speaker 1: Skullfunk A Mike when they joined the city. She's all
Speaker 1: funked up over this, from what I hear, he added,
Speaker 1: so let her do something about it. Then Roland muttered,
Speaker 1: she's got enough chrome to choke a river ship. The
Speaker 1: city's got enough monster people to burn the eastern seaboard.
Speaker 1: What do you need me? Because the Mata's aren't stupid,
Speaker 1: Jim sa. They are scanning for chrome, for bile mods
Speaker 1: for everything but the ship you've got, because no one
Speaker 1: left alive as packing the ship you've got, Roland grunted again.
Speaker 1: His nostrils flared. There was something strange about the words
Speaker 1: Jim had chosen. No one left alive? Had there been others?
Speaker 1: He knew his mods had come courtesy of the old
Speaker 1: U S Defense Department, but he didn't remember which unit
Speaker 1: he'd been a part of, or what he'd done. There
Speaker 1: was a bit of memory, hazy and fragmented, that popped
Speaker 1: into his dreams from time to time. He was stuck
Speaker 1: inside a long, cool metal pod. The cold black of
Speaker 1: space unfolded around him. Roland felt warm bodies to his
Speaker 1: left and right, smelled the comforting sense of men he trusted.
Speaker 1: Red lights blinked above his field of vision. Something tugged
Speaker 1: at his belly. There was a powerful feeling of inertia.
Speaker 1: Roland closed his eyes, leaned forward, pinched the bridge of
Speaker 1: his nose, and groaned just a little bit. When he
Speaker 1: came back up, Nana Yazi stared at him in confusion.
Speaker 1: Jim looked, perhaps worried. It was hard to tell with
Speaker 1: that guy. What's gonna happen if I don't do it?
Speaker 1: He Nana Yazzi to you nothing, Roland shook his head.
Speaker 1: Not to me. What are you guys gonna do if
Speaker 1: I don't help? Oh, she frowned. I suppose we'll have
Speaker 1: to mount an assault, send in a small team, four
Speaker 1: or six commandos and try to pull them out. It'll
Speaker 1: be bloody, Jim said. The old man frowned at that.
Speaker 1: He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something,
Speaker 1: but the lady put her hand on his and gave
Speaker 1: him a significant look. That's true, she said, it will
Speaker 1: be bloody. Roland felt a twinge of anger, but he
Speaker 1: couldn't blame Nana Yazzi for trying to manipulate him. The
Speaker 1: lives of her friends were on the line. Roland knew himself, though,
Speaker 1: and he knew that missions like this always went wrong.
Speaker 1: If he took this job, Roland knew he'd take more lives.
Speaker 1: You'll save lives by being there, Jim insisted, smiling that
Speaker 1: fucking smile. Roland was sure that smile had tricked him
Speaker 1: into dumb, violent things in the past. You're the only
Speaker 1: one who can handle this with a minimum of death.
Speaker 1: Roland didn't believe that, and at the same time he
Speaker 1: had to admit it was technically true. He just didn't
Speaker 1: trust himself, or reality or Jim. And yet I'll do it,
Speaker 1: he said. I'm sure I'll regret agreeing to do it,
Speaker 1: but whatever, I'll do it. Jim looked satisfied with himself.
Speaker 1: Nanayazi looked relieved. The old man looked somehow angry. Most
Speaker 1: of Rowland's reason for agreeing to help came down to Topaz.
Speaker 1: He hated to admit that, even to himself, but it
Speaker 1: was true. The thought of her in pain twisted something
Speaker 1: in the center of his heart. He wasn't used to
Speaker 1: pain there, and his tolerance was pretty low. This is
Speaker 1: so dumb, he told himself. You couldn't even remember her
Speaker 1: name this morning. He and Jim and the old woman
Speaker 1: shook hands on the deal. Then they let him loosen
Speaker 1: their city, to imbibe and fornicate and test the limits
Speaker 1: of his wet wear. We have things to plan, she said. Hey, everybody,
Speaker 1: Robert Evans here. I hope you just enjoyed the chapter
Speaker 1: you listen to. I hope you enjoyed the chapters to come.
Speaker 1: If you would like to read the text version of
Speaker 1: this book either on the web or on your e
Speaker 1: reader as an e pub, you can find those on
Speaker 1: the website a t r book dot com. So again,
Speaker 1: the free ad free e pub and the text of
Speaker 1: every chapter will be on a t r book dot com.
Speaker 1: Thanks