Authors: Riley Barton
“Very well, Master Mark. If you insist.”
“Once—just once—I wish he’d just do as he’s told without talking back to me. Is that too much to ask?” Mark muttered, popping the kit open.
Luna suppressed the urge to giggle. “Kind of like having a kid, isn’t it?”
“No, not really,” Mark replied, slipping his hands into a pair of latex gloves. “You can ground a kid. But if you try to punish an AI, he’ll just spam your computer or cut off the power.”
“Scan complete, Master Mark,” Edward said, “Though I detect no current infection, there is bacteria present in Subject Luna’s bloodstream that could cause her bodily harm if not neutralized.”
“Will the bio-aid take care of it?”
“I believe so, Master Mark. But if that is not the case, I am positive that the other anti-bacterial serums in the sick bay will be more than adequate to—shall we say—finish the job.”
“Okay. Thanks, Ed.”
Luna watched out of the corner of her eye while Mark carefully filled a small syringe with a dose of bio-aid. She had never much cared for the white, viscous appearance of the all-purpose miracle cure. But she had experienced its amazing regenerative properties too many times to complain about how it looked.
Luna swallowed, fighting down her nervousness as she felt the needle prick her tender scalp. She flinched and began speaking in order to distract herself from the discomfort. “So, Mark, how did you know I was in the swamp to begin with? I mean
... finding anything out there is a miracle in and of itself. But finding one person specifically? That has to be next to impossible, especially in a storm!”
“Well, to tell you the truth,” he replied, “I wasn’t the one who found you. Ed was. He picked you up on sensors and sent me out to investigate.”
“Indeed.” Ed added, “I am quite ashamed to admit it, but it wasn’t until we were within one hundred feet of your location that I became fully aware of your true identity.”
Mark shrugged. “Yeah, up until then we just assumed you were one of Leon’s scouts or part of some other raiding party.”
“We were quite relived when we discovered it was you, Subject Luna. Feelings of concern and bewilderment not withstanding.”
Luna smiled—the numbing agents in the bio-aid finally taking effect. “Well thank you, Ed. It’s so nice to know you care.”
“I was referring to Master Mark, but I shall accept your thanks and offer my most sincere best wishes toward a speedy recovery from whatever damage you may have acquired.”
Luna laughed. “Well, I should probably call it a night … or a morning? Whatever it is.” She paused and frowned, deep in thought while searching her tired mind for the right words, “This is kind of awkward but where can I sleep?”
Mark chuckled and offered her his hand. “Here, come with me.”
Without giving it a second thought Luna slid her small hand into his. Wordlessly and with much yawning Luna followed alongside Mark as he led her out of the mess hall.
“Now, just a warning,” Mark said, leading her up another flight of steps to the vessel’s uppermost deck, “I don’t have much on board as far as guest rooms. But I’ll let you use my quarters for now. It’ll be temporary—just to hold you over until I can get something else set up for you. But it’s warm, dry, and quiet, so you should be able to cash in a good forty winks without being disturbed.”
Luna was too tired to make much sense of what he’d said. But she
had
understood the words warm, dry, and quiet; which sounded like heaven. “Don’t worry, that’ll be perfect. Thanks.”
Before she knew it, Mark had led her into a cozy room just below the vessel’s main bridge. The room, like the rest of the ship, was a little on the cluttered side and had obviously served another purpose in the years before the Cathedral disaster—back when
the Second Wind
had been a ferry rather than a floating fortress.
She glanced around the room, her weary eyes skimming quickly over its large, curtained windows and mismatched furnishings until she at last found what she was looking for: the bed. It was little more than a glorified cot built into the far wall, but to Luna it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen. She released Mark’s hand and collapsed onto the bed.
“Good night, Mark,” she called over her shoulder as she struggled to kick off her borrowed shoes.
“Good night,” he replied with a barely contained grin.
She waited until she heard the door click shut, quickly slipped out of her rubberized clothes, and slid under the covers.
She sighed deeply and nestled her face into Mark’s pillow—all her worries momentarily forgotten.
Chapter 30
“From this day forward a state of war exists between Unitech and the Swampers responsible for these crimes against humanity. Let it be known that we will not stop until it is again safe for our citizens to walk the streets without fear! We will not stop until every last one of these criminals has been brought to justice! We will not stop until we have peace!”
Leon switched off the slapped-together holo-projector and leaned back in his rickety chair. He laced his rough fingers below his pointed chin as he let Edgard’s words sink in.
He’d expected that Edgard would declare war, but Edgard’s response had been far more abrupt than Leon had anticipated. Leon hadn’t planned for him to do it so soon after receiving his holo-message.
“Ha! I think them boys want to play rough!” he said at last, his dry, barking laugh breaking the silence permeating the dingy room that served as his gang’s temporary headquarters.
He leaned forward and cast his piercing gaze over the men gathered around him. They were nervous, that much was clear. Edgard’s speech had obviously gotten to them. They were losing their nerve.
He had to act quickly, if he wanted to maintain what little control he had.
“Aw, come on now, boys! Why the long faces? This is exactly what we’ve all been waitin’ for! Don’t you see?”
Just by looking at them, Leon could tell that they didn’t get it, so he continued, “Look, if all them Techie boys are out on the war-path looking to club every Swamper they find, then there ain’t gonna be so many guys staying back to watch the old homestead.”
A light of realization dawned, and the men began to murmur among themselves. One man spoke up, an evil grin spreading across his pockmarked face, “So you’re sayin’ while they’re all out in the swamp, we’ll move in and catch ‘em with their pants down?”
Leon returned the man’s sneer, “Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m sayin’.”
The man laughed, “Heh, sounds good to me, boss. When we gonna start?”
“Now,” Leon replied, picking up his breath mask from beside the holo-projector. “Tell the boys out in the ruins to pack their things. We move out in an hour.”
“And what about the men out in the swamp?”
“We ain’t got time to wait for them. Tell ‘em to spread out and gather up as many friends as they can. We’ll rendezvous for a strike on Cathedral in one week’s time. Until then, have them stay low and radio in with any intel the can get on Techie movements and troop deployments.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Leon nodded in acknowledgment then pushed the moldy door open and strode out into the camp, tightening his mask as he went. He was pleased to see that his men were already hurrying to carry out his orders. Within the hour they would have faded into the swamp like ghosts. Not even Unitech would be able to find them then.
He continued through the camp until he came to a large, somewhat rotted tent near the center of the encampment. He pushed aside the flap. Inside, barely illuminated by the dim light slipping through the door, sat his secret weapon. Who would have thought that a man could make a 2,000-pound warhead simply by hardwiring the payloads of a few dozen surface-to-air missiles? Obviously not Unitech. If they had, they would have been more careful with their weapon shipments. After all, there were maniacs out in the swamp that would love to get their hands on that kind of firepower.
Leon smiled and placed a hand on the crude weapon’s sheet metal casing, admiring his own genius. Unitech had no idea what he had at his disposal. And by the time they did, it would be too late. His bomb would—quite literally—shake the civilized world to its core. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Chapter 31
“Subject Luna? Hello? Subject Luna, are you awake?”
Luna groaned and peeled her face off of the drool-soaked pillow. “Hmmm? What … ?”
“It is I, Subject Luna. Edward,” the AI replied brightly.
Luna groaned again and rolled her head over to a less drenched section of bedding and squinted sourly up at the blurry ceiling. “What do you
want
, Ed? Can’t you see I’m sleeping?”
“I was aware of your recharging session, yes. In fact, I have been monitoring you for nearly sixteen hours now.”
“Sixteen hours?” Luna exclaimed, pushing back the tangled web of hair covering her face in an attempt to clear her vision.
“Yes indeed, Subject Luna. You are a very sound sleeper. Throughout the entirety of my monitoring you did not move even once from your original position.”
She massaged her stiff neck, “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I’ve been asleep for more than half a day!”
“I would have, if not for Master Mark’s explicit orders that you were not to be disturbed under any circumstances. And besides, you seemed so peaceful, I did not have the heart to wake you.”
“Why the sudden change of heart?” Luna asked with a snort, propping herself up on her elbows.
“Master Mark ordered me to inform you that dinner is ready—if you are ready to eat that is.”
She promptly pulled back the sheets and stepped clumsily out onto the cool, metal floor.
“You know what, Ed?
Dinner actually sounds pretty good right about now. Tell Mark to keep it warm for me—I’ll be right down.”
“Of course, Subject Luna. I will let him know immediately.”
Luna yawned and stretched, her spine popping loudly. She struggled into her pants, leaving the rubber jacket off for now and wearing only the tee shirt. She slid her feet into Mark’s oversized shoes and laced them up as tightly as she could before heading out the door.
“Something smells good,” she said, inhaling deeply as she entered the galley. “What are you cooking?”
“Do you really want to know?” Mark asked without looking up from the stove.
“Sure … What is it?”
“Okay, I’ll give you a hint,” Mark said, cocking an eyebrow in her general direction, “it’s big, green, and has lots of teeth.”
“
Please
tell me you’re joking.”
Mark laughed dryly, “I wish I were. Out here, people eat whatever they can get.”
She grimaced in disgust.
“Hey, don’t worry! Alligator really
does
taste like chicken. Honest! You won’t even know the difference.”
Luna took a step back as Mark piled some of the whitish-pink meat onto a nearby plate and shoved it toward her.
“Oh, just eat it. Trust me, it’s good. I’ve been living off this stuff for years, and look at me.”
She looked at him, scrutinizing every detail of his face from his dark eyes and messy hair down to his patchy five-o’clock shadow. She then looked down at her plate, eyeing its steaming contents suspiciously.
She finally sat down in the same seat she’d used earlier that morning, picked up a fork, and gingerly speared the smallest piece of meat she could find. Reluctantly she opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and inserted the steaming food …
*
*
*
“I told you it was good,” Mark said, grinning triumphantly down at her.
She gave him her best mock scowl. Though she hated to admit it, alligator really
was
good. And surprisingly enough it did taste remarkably like chicken. “Yeah, you did,” Luna said, swallowing as she prepared herself for what she had to say, “and … you were right. So … I was wrong, and you were right. There! I said it. Now can you please stop looking at me like that?”
Mark laughed and picked up her empty plate. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”
“Thank you!” she said, gathering up her cup and silverware before following Mark back into the kitchen to help with the dishes. When they’d finished cleaning up, she asked, “So, Mark, I was wondering, when exactly do you think we’ll be getting back to New Denver?”
“Now hold on a second, Luna. I never said I was going to New Denver. In fact … I don’t remember ever saying anything about going anywhere
near
there.”
“You don’t understand, Mark,” she said slowly, forcing herself to keep a level voice, “I
need
to get back there. It’s important that I make it back within the next five days.”
“I’m sorry, Luna. But there’s really no way I can take you back there.”
Luna could feel anger and desperation starting to burn inside of her. “What are you saying, Mark? That you won’t help me? Am I a
prisoner
here or something?”
“I’m
trying
to help you!” he shot back. “Trust me, Luna you don’t want to go back there! Edgard tried to have you killed once already! If he finds out you’re still alive, he’ll try to finish the job!” He paused. “I … I can’t allow you to do that—not again. And even if I could, I couldn’t take you—”
“You don’t understand!” Luna shouted, slamming her fist against the sink so hard that for a moment she thought she might have broken her hand. She winced and gritted her teeth. “If I don’t get back there within the next few days, I’ll die
anyway
!”
Mark took a step forward and gripped her shoulders firmly. A look of pure confusion was etched on his face as he stared into her fearful eyes.
“What are you talking about, Luna?”
“I mean
I’ll be dead
!” she choked, blinking back hot, angry tears. “I
need
to get back for my treatments or the fungus will go into bloom and
kill
me!”
Mark just stood there, staring at her in disbelief. He slowly released her arms and began pacing the kitchen, his look of confusion replaced by one of dismay. “The Blister Wart disease. This is bad … really,
really
bad. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”