Doomsday Warrior 03 - The Last American (29 page)

BOOK: Doomsday Warrior 03 - The Last American
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Rock knew what they meant. They had shown him the stockpiles of nuclear weapons that still existed, shown him Colonel Killov plotting his exterminations, the hordes of untouchables that made up most of the planet.

“YOU MUST STOP IT!” The voice of the Glowers came at him with the force of an explosion. “YOU HAVE THE TOOLS AT YOUR DISPOSAL TO WIN, ROCKSON, THOUGH YOU ARE VASTLY OUTNUMBERED BY WEAPONS AND MEN. WHEN YOU ENTERED KIM’S BEING YOU DID MORE THAN HELP HER—YOU OPENED UP YOUR TELEPATHIC ABILITIES. ALL HUMANS HAVE THIS POWER—BUT WE BELIEVE THAT MUTANTS LIKE YOURSELF, THE STAR-PATTERNED ONES, ARE CAPABLE OF NEARLY THE LEVEL OF TELEPATHY THAT WE ARE. YOUR ABILITY TO COME WITH US, TO JOIN OUR WHOLENESS, IS PROOF OF THAT. YOU AND KIM ARE FOREVER LOCKED IN YOUR INNER HEARTS. YOU WILL KNOW EACH OTHERS PAIN, WILL EXPERIENCE WHAT THE OTHER FEELS—NOT IN AN OBVIOUS WAY—BUT YOU WILL KNOW. ROCKSON—WHAT YOU KNOW CAN BE TAUGHT TO OTHERS. FIND THE STAR-PATTERNED MUTANTS IN EVERY FREE CITY—AND TEACH THEM TO RIDE THE ENERGY WAVES AS WE DO. IF A TELEPATHIC LINK COULD BE ESTABLISHED BETWEEN THE FREE CITIES IT WOULD GREATLY STRENGTHEN THEM, AND YOUR PRESIDENT’S DESIRES FOR A UNITED AMERICA AND COMMON MILITARY COMMAND COULD BE CLOSER TO REALIZATION.”

“WHAT YOU ASK OF ME IS SO—” Rock thought back. “I HAVE FOUGHT THE REDS AND WILL CONTINUE TO FIGHT THEM—BUT THIS THING YOU HAVE SHOWN ME—I CAN BARELY WORK WITH IT MYSELF. IT DRAINS ME, MAKES ME FEEL HALF MAD WITH CONFUSION. THERE IS SO MUCH—”

“YOU
MUST
DO THIS, ROCKSON. WITH TIME YOU WILL FEEL MORE COMFORTABLE WITH THESE ABILITIES. BUT YOU MUST USE THEM—PRACTICE THEM EVERY DAY. JUST AS YOUR BODY HAS BEEN HARDENED INTO STONE, NOW YOUR MIND MUST BECOME THE EAGLE—THE PURE ENERGY THAT FLIES AMONG THE STARS, AMONG MINDS. YOU HAVE FELT IT, ROCKSON. IT IS IN YOU—YOU CAN NEVER FORGET IT.”

The collective voice paused, letting Rockson absorb its thoughts. Then it began again. “THERE IS EVIL IN THE AIR, FAR MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER SUSPECT. WE MUST ALL DO WHAT WE CAN. WE ARE—THE WORDS SOUND STRANGE—AMERICANS—CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES. WE ARE DESCENDED FROM THE SAME BEINGS AS YOU. WE INHABIT A COMMON LAND, LANGUAGE, PAST. WE BELIEVE IN THE FORCE OF HARMONY—THIS YOU KNOW. BUT THE HARMONY BECOMES SO UNBALANCED AS TO MAKE THE PLANET FALL OFF INTO THE ETERNAL VACUUM OF DEAD SPACE—WE MUST FIGHT. IF YOU EVER NEED US, ROCKSON—REALLY NEED US—SEND OUT THE SIGNAL AND WE WILL BE THERE. YOU HAVE SEEN OUR SANDCRAFT—THEY ARE FAST. WE ARE PHILOSOPHERS AND HEALERS—IT IS TRUE—BUT—OUR DESTRUCTIVE ABILITIES ARE AS POWERFUL AS OUR HEALING. WE HAVE THOUGHT LONG ON THIS—BUT IT HAS BEEN DECIDED—WE ARE WITH YOU. WE ARE—FREEFIGHTERS NOW.

Rock was deeply moved by the silent speech. He, of all men, knew what it must have meant for the Glowers to enter the fray. It was a deep wound to their own psyches. And every Red they killed—they would suffer the pangs of his death. They would sacrifice part of their harmony with each killing—yet still they had chosen.

The four freefighters stood at the eastern end of the Glowers’ village as the thirty came to greet them goodbye. Their organ systems pumped vividly in the afternoon sun, their blue electricity coursing around them with a perceptible hum.

“I WISH WE COULD SHAKE HANDS,” Rock thought as he held out his hands palms open, toward the Glowers.

“OR SHARE A DRINK TOGETHER,” Mt. Ed, thought, dimly catching Rockson’s telepathic signal. The mountain man stepped forward, almost slapping one of the Glowers on the back, catching himself at the last moment.

“UNFORTUNATELY,” the collective voice said, “OUR ACTUAL TOUCH WOULD KILL. IT IS PERHAPS OUR ONE CURSE THAT WE MAY NEVER KNOW PHYSICAL CONTACT—NEVER KNOW THE LOVE OF A MAN AND WOMAN—INSTEAD WE RIDE THE ENERGY WAVES. THAT IS OUR LIFE—OUR WAY.”

“Thank you,” Kim said, her eyes moistening as she felt a wave of emotion sweep through her. “You saved my life—and—you are very kind. There is something in you that I wish everyone could feel.”

President Langford saluted stiffly, and the four Americans turned and headed back out to the wastelands and the fogs and the high-rad deserts and the creatures that lived only to kill. They walked with their heads held high, typical of all freefighters, and were soon out of sight of the Glower encampment. The thirty stood and watched for a long time, able to see and feel the party long after they had disappeared from view. Then they broke and headed for their private chambers and activities beyond the comprehension of mortal man.

Rockson took the lead, setting a medium pace, as Kim was not used to walking long distances. By tomorrow they would all be toughened up a little. The afternoon sky was streaked with thick, purplish stripes that cut across the sun from time to time, darkening the sky for a few seconds. But beyond, the horizon was clear as crystal. They would march into the evening—get a good start. They would head back to Century City—and help the president reestablish his authority across America. And the Particle Beams—they would need more of them. Another expedition would have to be mounted. The telepathy, too—somehow he’d have to teach that—if he could figure the damn stuff out himself. Jesus, there was so much to do. Battle lines were being drawn. It was going to be quite a war.

NEXT:

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