Speaker 1: Chapter five, Rowland. Twenty years ago, Camelback Mountain had towered
Speaker 1: over a wealthy suburb of Phoenix, Arizona. Then had come
Speaker 1: the Civil War. Power, food, and water shortages made the
Speaker 1: cities hundred and thirty degrees summers insufferable for all but
Speaker 1: the hardiest or most chromed. Millions fled for less vicious
Speaker 1: climates or simply died from exposure and starvation. Now Phoenix
Speaker 1: was a looted, crumbling ghost, but Camelback Mountain still hosted
Speaker 1: a version of human civilization. Camel Toe was a city
Speaker 1: of roughly five thousand. The name had started because the
Speaker 1: settlement's founders, homeless teens, thought it was funny. A few
Speaker 1: hundred orphaned or abandoned kids had settled in the McMansions
Speaker 1: clustered around the mountains, western edge and foothills. They'd scrounged
Speaker 1: grow lamps and engines and weaponry, and today the denizens
Speaker 1: of the tow had the strongest city state between California
Speaker 1: and the Kingdom of Albuquerque. Rowland was their guardian, mind you,
Speaker 1: They'd never asked him to guard them. The police had
Speaker 1: been doing quite well, thank you very much. When he'd
Speaker 1: shown up and built his shack in the middle of
Speaker 1: their only park. A delegation of armed Towins had showed
Speaker 1: up to politely e vict Rowland, and he'd been forced
Speaker 1: to carve off their foreskins as a show of dominance.
Speaker 1: They'd sent a single negotiator next and worked out a
Speaker 1: thoroughly beneficial arrangement. Rowland would aid in the city's defense
Speaker 1: in exchange for his now departed shack, and twice a
Speaker 1: year all the narcotics he could carry home from their harvest.
Speaker 1: It was an arrangement Rowland had enjoyed. He was frustrated
Speaker 1: that Jim's men had forced him to destroy his beloved hovel,
Speaker 1: but it was hard for him to be angry all
Speaker 1: the same. The sun was out now, and it was
Speaker 1: early enough that the day's heat had yet to set
Speaker 1: in the great red desert, and the carcass of Phoenix
Speaker 1: stretched out around them, and to Roland's eyes it was
Speaker 1: all beautiful. Once Jim had called the fight, a pair
Speaker 1: of boxy armored Hella transports had flown in another squad
Speaker 1: of his men. They assembled a brunch spread, complete with
Speaker 1: a table and two wicker chairs. Roland hoped his old
Speaker 1: friend was doing this to show go off and not
Speaker 1: planning an actual meal. The acid twisted Roland's guts into
Speaker 1: knots and effectively killed his appetite. He was still high
Speaker 1: enough that the familiar boulders around his home seemed to
Speaker 1: flex and wobble like great mounds of red jelly. Jim's face, however,
Speaker 1: was rock solid. Roland focused on it while the rest
Speaker 1: of the world blurred. A towel came into his hands,
Speaker 1: and he realized a moment later that Jim had handed
Speaker 1: it to him. Roland wiped the crusted gore from around
Speaker 1: his shoulder, where the tiny robots in his blood had
Speaker 1: finished reattaching his arm. It was a messy process that
Speaker 1: involved a lot of shuffling bad blood out of the
Speaker 1: skin and sludgy red globs. The globs looked a bit
Speaker 1: like the boulders, now that he thought about it. Jim's
Speaker 1: marks were over by one of the aircraft, getting worked
Speaker 1: over by a medical team that must have been waiting
Speaker 1: in the wings this whole time. The acrylic stink of
Speaker 1: fear wafted off them from thirty feet away. Once the
Speaker 1: table was up and the spread was set, Roland and
Speaker 1: Jim sat down to watch the last rays of sunrise
Speaker 1: turned into boring old daylight. A lackey handed them both
Speaker 1: steaming mugs of cough. Roland took his black and Turkish,
Speaker 1: so thick it was almost putting. Most humans made it
Speaker 1: too weak for his taste, but this cup was perfect.
Speaker 1: He sipped deeply, and the warbly acid lines straightened and
Speaker 1: grew just a little bit thicker. Took forever to teach
Speaker 1: him how to make it right, Jim said, having human
Speaker 1: orderlies is a bit of a trial. I think there's
Speaker 1: something about us that breaks their brains just a bit.
Speaker 1: Jim sipped his coffee and added, I gotta theory about that.
Speaker 1: By the way, Roland let out a harsh, flamy exhalation
Speaker 1: that meant I don't care. Jim continued all the same,
Speaker 1: sipping his coffee and then launching into a spiel. My
Speaker 1: theory is that Homo sapiens just don't built to acknowledge
Speaker 1: a higher form of life, not one that's flesh and blood,
Speaker 1: and staring him in the face, demanded service. I think
Speaker 1: deep in the human brain there's the race memory of
Speaker 1: running up against Neanderthals. They were bigger and stronger and
Speaker 1: faster than humans. But we they still wipe the neander
Speaker 1: tolls out. I think humans look at us the same
Speaker 1: way the ancestors looked at and at all. Roland grunted
Speaker 1: because that was easier than talking, and because he really
Speaker 1: wasn't listening. His eyes were focused on the shimmering surface
Speaker 1: of the coffee sober. His brain kept his thermal vision
Speaker 1: on a different mental track from his color and infra
Speaker 1: red vision. But while he was tripping, they all just
Speaker 1: sort of blended together into one multi tone massive information.
Speaker 1: So he stared and thralled as red heat bled off
Speaker 1: into the white air around them. The math of it
Speaker 1: all was rendered as a beautiful swatch of colors, some
Speaker 1: of which weren't even visible to human eyes. Roland lost
Speaker 1: himself for a moment. If you any other man, I'd
Speaker 1: prick you with a sober stick right now, Jim said,
Speaker 1: clearly irked. It's been a long time since someone's ignored me.
Speaker 1: Not ignoring, Roland managed to say. The words came out
Speaker 1: wet and mushy. He'd taken a round to the lung, apparently,
Speaker 1: and the repair efforts played hell on his throat. His
Speaker 1: eyes were still locked on the psychedelic sprawl of color
Speaker 1: lifting off from his coffee. He had to force himself
Speaker 1: to take another sip. The mild stimulant surge helped him
Speaker 1: break off his per ration and he met Jim still
Speaker 1: weirdly solid gaze. Sorry, this coffee is more interesting than
Speaker 1: your bullshit, Roland explained. Blame the acid, Jim laughed. The
Speaker 1: snake tattoos on his torso curled and corkscrewed and simulated excitement.
Speaker 1: You know, he said. There's a new movement in the
Speaker 1: post human community started up in Idaho, one of the
Speaker 1: Intentional communes. They took a pretty strong anti narcotic policy.
Speaker 1: Apparently it distracts us from the important work we should
Speaker 1: be doing. Fuck that, Roland said, and spat on the
Speaker 1: ground for emphasis. I don't disagree. Jim nodded and produced
Speaker 1: an enormous and very phallic blunt. He lit it, pulled deep,
Speaker 1: and passed it over. Roland took a long drag and
Speaker 1: eased into a slump as the th HC did its
Speaker 1: slow work, so Jim, Roland said, After a few more passes,
Speaker 1: once the acid and weed had time to push his
Speaker 1: braid into a hazy new equilibrium, why are you here?
Speaker 1: Jim gave an eloquent shrug, popped the blunt out of
Speaker 1: his mouth and stared at the curling smoke. Roland stared too,
Speaker 1: and his eyes was wreathed in a chartruse black halo
Speaker 1: of heat that seemed to almost vibrate near the cherryed tip.
Speaker 1: To catch up, Jim said, and to offer you a job, job,
Speaker 1: Roland snorted, I need not your filthy lucre. Look at
Speaker 1: this wealth that surrounds me. He made a broad gesture
Speaker 1: that encompassed the remains of his novel. What could you
Speaker 1: possibly offer well, Jim said, fustartus. I can replace your
Speaker 1: hot plate. I think Biggsby broke it with his body,
Speaker 1: so I'll steal another one. Roland said, what do you
Speaker 1: really have? I'm gonna guess a few million won't pique
Speaker 1: your interest. Roland blew a fat wet raspberry. I don't
Speaker 1: even care what currency you're talking about. What good'll money
Speaker 1: do me? Not even Cascadian scrip, eh, Jim asked, with
Speaker 1: a grin Cascadia. Roland had heard the name, of course,
Speaker 1: last he remembered. The Pacific Northwest's premier independence movement had
Speaker 1: been agitating to secede from the coastal pact is a
Speaker 1: Is that a thing now as a six years ago?
Speaker 1: Jim said it. He took a deep pull of the blunt,
Speaker 1: handed it back to Roland and exhaled a thick white
Speaker 1: cloud as he spoke. And they just finished their own
Speaker 1: civil war, so the value skyrocketing. You really don't get
Speaker 1: out much these days, do you. Roland's response was another
Speaker 1: deep gulp of his coffee. Anyway, Jim continued, I know
Speaker 1: you don't care for cash, but there is something I
Speaker 1: think you might want, and I can buy it back
Speaker 1: for you if you'll help me out. Wait, buy it back?
Speaker 1: Buy what back? Roland recognized the snake man's smile on
Speaker 1: Jim's face. He had the vague sense that he'd seen
Speaker 1: it before enough that the sight of it set his
Speaker 1: hackles arise and sparked an itch in his left trigger finger.
Speaker 1: He took a deep hit from the blunt and handed
Speaker 1: it over to Jim. The other man took the blunt
Speaker 1: with his left hand and made a gun shape with
Speaker 1: the fingers of his right hand. He pantomimed a shot
Speaker 1: to the head. His lips made a barely audible pow. Memories.
Speaker 1: Jim said, I know you only playing with half a deck,
Speaker 1: maybe less surprised you remember my mug. To be honest,
Speaker 1: Jim took a final drag from the blunt, which was
Speaker 1: barely the length of a thumbnail now, and passed it
Speaker 1: off to Roland. But science, sir, she's kept right on
Speaker 1: lurching forward the last ten years. There's a neuro team
Speaker 1: up at m I a t. They reckon they've made
Speaker 1: a breakthrough al Zama's research. Initially, but they think they
Speaker 1: figured out how to straight up recover memories from damaged
Speaker 1: brain tissue. The attack has reversed a lot of injuries
Speaker 1: the old science said was permanent. Roland felt a painful,
Speaker 1: tugging sensation in his chest. He thought back to the
Speaker 1: woman from his dreams with the damascene teeth. He saw
Speaker 1: her every few weeks, trapped in some foggy memory or another.
Speaker 1: Her name felt like it was always on the tip
Speaker 1: of his tongue. He didn't know what she'd meant to him,
Speaker 1: but the thought of her twisted his heart into knots.
Speaker 1: It was maddening, not even knowing what she'd been to him,
Speaker 1: or he to her. Roland frowned, turned his head and
Speaker 1: locked eyes with Jim, eating a bunch of FED funded
Speaker 1: school scientists are gonna help me. Roland asked he had
Speaker 1: a strong feeling none of the governments on this continent
Speaker 1: or fans of me. Jim waved a careless hand less
Speaker 1: the issue, He said, those am fed motherfucker's at pragmatists.
Speaker 1: I've been in and out of the Northeast half a
Speaker 1: dozen times just this year. You do work they value,
Speaker 1: and they ignore a little. Terrorism memories hazy, Roland said,
Speaker 1: but I know little is inaccurate. I think we killed
Speaker 1: a skyscraper. Ha, you don't remember that the Diamond building
Speaker 1: and photo one a hundred and twenty floors of rich
Speaker 1: pigs wallowing in ship. We slipped a bombing during an
Speaker 1: Austeritius summit led by the CEOs of the Big Fall.
Speaker 1: Bugged the conference room so we could hear him scream
Speaker 1: when that first blast cut the support beams. It was
Speaker 1: better than sex. There was a peculiar joy in Jim's eyes,
Speaker 1: his chest snakes writhed in orgiastic glee. Roland felt queasy. Rowland,
Speaker 1: Jim added, the sons of bitches had it coming, maybe,
Speaker 1: Roland said, but I know we didn't just kill CEOs.
Speaker 1: I remember other times kids, not kids, Jim insisted, as
Speaker 1: young enough to take full advantage of juven the future
Speaker 1: undying lords of capital. They had to go. Roland shivered.
Speaker 1: Even if they did, I'm sort of glad I don't
Speaker 1: remember it. Jim shrugged, swirled his coffee cup, and stared
Speaker 1: into it for a minute. If he'd been anyone else,
Speaker 1: Rowland would have been able to read his emotions by
Speaker 1: the sense coming off of him and the micro expressions
Speaker 1: on his face. Most post humans were just as easy
Speaker 1: to read as regular humans. It took a mix of
Speaker 1: very specific surgeries and a hell of a lot of
Speaker 1: time spent in practice to hide anything from Roland. It
Speaker 1: said a lot that Jim had considered the expense worth while.
Speaker 1: Violence is the coin that buys the future, Jim said,
Speaker 1: there was a time when you explained that to me.
Speaker 1: I don't remember that conversation, Roland said, but it's been
Speaker 1: years since I've taken a life. You have a couple
Speaker 1: of four skins, one guy's hand. Sure, sometimes a point
Speaker 1: needs making. I haven't killed anyone in a long time, though.
Speaker 1: That's why all the folks you sent to my door
Speaker 1: are still alive. And I mean to stay on the
Speaker 1: wagon Killing's not one, and on this mission, Jim assured him,
Speaker 1: just property destruction. I need two or three days of
Speaker 1: your unrivaled ship up fucking expertise. Roland flicked a suspicious
Speaker 1: eyebrow at his old friend property, he asked. Jim nodded.
Speaker 1: A couple of guys might need crippling along the way,
Speaker 1: but no killing. So what's this gig? Roland was interested now,
Speaker 1: in spite of himself sabotage, Jim's lips curled up in
Speaker 1: a feral grin. Over the last few months, we've noticed
Speaker 1: a substantial build up among the radical Christian militias in
Speaker 1: north and central Texas. We Roland asked, my own organization,
Speaker 1: and the am FED the Central Intelligence Agency. Roland couldn't
Speaker 1: help but laugh. I remember enough of the old days
Speaker 1: to appreciate the irony of you working with the CIA.
Speaker 1: Jim's head cocked just a little to the left, he grimaced.
Speaker 1: Roland wasn't sure, but he thought his friend might be
Speaker 1: a little arrist and defensive. Anyone who lives long enough
Speaker 1: becomes a hypocrite, Jim said with a shrug. I'd hope
Speaker 1: to hold out longer, but their satellite coverage is fucking phenomenal.
Speaker 1: I'll send you the intel. He made a flicking gesture
Speaker 1: towards Roland with his right index finger, and then frowned
Speaker 1: in annoyance. You might be the last dark brain on
Speaker 1: this continent, you know that. Roland wasn't sure why he'd
Speaker 1: disconnected himself from the Internet. It seemed to annoy other people,
Speaker 1: but he rather enjoyed it. His hind brain had absorbed
Speaker 1: peda bites of data before he'd severed the link, so
Speaker 1: he never found himself needing to consult a Wicki to
Speaker 1: remember the equations behind the Coriolis effect or a bullet's trajectory.
Speaker 1: You could have walked from Canada to Venezuela without encountering
Speaker 1: a plant or animal his distributed mechanical brain couldn't name.
Speaker 1: The only downside to his situation was that he couldn't
Speaker 1: keep up with politics or bleeding edge military technology. He
Speaker 1: only gleaned that sort of information by experience or conversation,
Speaker 1: and being a creepy godlike being who sometimes circumcised trespassers,
Speaker 1: Roland didn't have many conversations. One of Jim's aids ran
Speaker 1: up and handed Roland a paper thin tablet. Jim directed
Speaker 1: him through a dozen satellite images of what looked like
Speaker 1: vehicle and ammunition depots. Roland's hindbrain recognized that Dallas road systems. Immediately,
Speaker 1: a surge of since memory hit him. Fire so much fire,
Speaker 1: the smell of it only drowned out by the intense
Speaker 1: stink of thirty thousand people panicking. At the same time,
Speaker 1: Roland felt bullets dig into his flesh. He saw hate
Speaker 1: in the eyes of the advancing cops, and he felt
Speaker 1: a corresponding surge of glee. As his brain started to
Speaker 1: pump out battle drugs. He squeezed his trigger. Roland shook
Speaker 1: his head, pulled his mind back into the present moment.
Speaker 1: Jim frowned, but didn't say anything. He just pointed back
Speaker 1: at the tablet. Roland focused again. It appeared to be
Speaker 1: a satellite image of a defensive line in Dallas. He
Speaker 1: noted a large number of military vehicles piled into several
Speaker 1: parking garages. What's going on here, he asked, suit carriers.
Speaker 1: Jim said, couple dozen of em Roland shook his head. Impossible,
Speaker 1: that'd be enough to support what six hundred power armored fighters.
Speaker 1: Those are nation state numbers and other Republic of Texas
Speaker 1: as a ship show. But there's no way they'd let
Speaker 1: some in surge and militia build an army like that
Speaker 1: in their borders. Maybe not, Jim said, maybe so, truth told,
Speaker 1: I don't care what's parked in those garages. You blow
Speaker 1: em up, I get paid, and you get your fancy surgery.
Speaker 1: Roland felt uneasy. The job itself seemed too simple. The
Speaker 1: killed team Jim had sent to wake Roland up probably
Speaker 1: could have done this job with a few reinforcements. It
Speaker 1: seemed weird that some nutbar extremists could get their hands
Speaker 1: on that many suits. Roland just didn't trust the whole situation. Jim,
Speaker 1: he asked, can you promise me this memory thing will work?
Speaker 1: Fuck no, Jim scoffed, I can't even promise you'll survive.
Speaker 1: This is a bleeding edge mad science operation. The infant
Speaker 1: is willing to break in a national law to work
Speaker 1: on a wanted terrorist. I'm half sure they just want
Speaker 1: to see what happens when they stopped poking around your skull.
Speaker 1: You might be making the worst mistake of your life here,
Speaker 1: but at least you'll die after blowing up a bunch
Speaker 1: of gear owned by Crystal Fashion just assholes. Roland considered
Speaker 1: for a long moment, then nod at his assent. Alright,
Speaker 1: then you've convinced me. I'm in as long as this
Speaker 1: stay is a sabotage mission. No killing, no killing. Jim agreed.
Speaker 1: They both stared out at the vacant desert for some time.
Speaker 1: Roland found himself humming along to a song he couldn't
Speaker 1: name or even remember hearing. Jim hummed along with him.
Speaker 1: He put a hand on Roland's shoulder. That felt good.
Speaker 1: There was something about human contact that none of the
Speaker 1: machines in his head could replicate. They sat for a
Speaker 1: while longer. Then Jim squeezed Roland's shoulder and stood come
Speaker 1: for another peaceful wall. Then, hey, everybody, Robert Evans here.
Speaker 1: I hope you just enjoyed the chapter you listen to.
Speaker 1: I hope you enjoyed the chapters to come. If you
Speaker 1: would like to read the text version of this book
Speaker 1: either on the web or on your e reader as
Speaker 1: an e pub, you can find those on the website
Speaker 1: a t r book dot com. So again, the free
Speaker 1: ad free e pub and the text of every chapter
Speaker 1: will be on a t r book dot com. Thanks