Home Planet: Apocalypse (Part 2) (11 page)

“There is a lignite power plant under the Sigma Tower.”

“Lignite as in brown coal?”

“Yes.”

“And where’s that come from?”

I was pretty sure there were no lignite mines around L.A.

“From southern traders. Okay, we’re nearly there. When you meet the Great Marshal, you must bow and speak only when spoken to.”

“Yeah, right. Who is this
Great Marshal Valdus
anyway?”

He stopped again, gritting his teeth all stressed and up tight.

“Great Marshal Valdus is our ruler, to be feared and revered and obeyed. His appointment by God is unquestioned. You would do well to remember this, Outlander!”

“So much for land of the free ...”

“What does that mean?”

“You ever heard of the United States of America? They teach you that in history classes?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now enough of your challenging patter, the Great Marshal is expecting us. We must
not
arrive late.”

A few minutes later, we arrived and my jaw dropped when I realized where it was—the lobby of the Harpers-Pacific Hotel where I’d met Juliet half a millennium before. I forced my escorts to stop, feasting my wide eyes on the high-ceilinged space. The ancient chandeliers remained, complete with a hodgepodge of lighting bulbs sending out adequate, but uninspiring light. To the right, the wall behind the reception desk bore a serious structural fault line, which ran diagonally from floor to ceiling. The reception desk remained, decayed and battered. Behind them stood seven armed men wearing dirty blue coveralls each with a number on the chest.

“You’re cleared to enter, Number-19,” called one of them.

To my left, a brick wall covered the old elevator bank, its covering of cream-colored paint patchy and cracked. My mind spanned the five hundred years to the moment I saw Juliet step out of the shiny elevator, her warm smile, her sparkling eyes full of hope and possibility.

How far the human race has fallen
, I lamented.

They led me through to a large room that still had the brass plaque saying,
Grand Ballroom.
Inside, the once lush pile was threadbare in most places. Guards in blue numbered coveralls stood watch in each of the corners. The only windows were the four tall opposite where I stood—all covered with Roman blinds. Enormous portraits of a series of bearded men wearing a crown adorned the walls. The quality of the art wasn’t that great, but it was good enough to tell they were related. The stern faces glared down at me with superiority, as if interrogating my soul. More than a dozen electric heaters plugged into the wall sockets noisily pumped out hot air making this the warmest place I’d been since the lifepod. At the front, to my right, stood a raised wooden stage and a four-poster daybed complete with sheer drapes pulled tied to the wooden posts. A poor-looking guy fussed around, straightening the pillows and sheets. In front of it, sat a high-backed throne flanked by three smaller chairs either side, all facing the room. A table beside the bed overflowed with a cornucopia of food, from bread to fruit to what looked like chocolate. The rest of the room held a long banquet table near the back, which held a selection of decanters with different colored liquids inside—alcoholic, I guessed—and an assortment of glasses. They led me to stand in front of the stage, still wearing the manacles. If I’d wanted to, they would’ve been easy to bust out of, but despite their tough talk, they hadn’t upset me too badly so far.

Then I heard a booming voice from behind the doors to the left of the stage.

“Open!”

That must be the so-called Great Marshal,
I thought.

I almost expected some kind of trumpeted fanfare, but none came. Instead, the doors opened and out walked the man in one of the portraits—tall with a dark close-cropped beard and dark hair, maybe forty-something and in a lot better shape than his peasants. There was no crown, but his loose-fitting slacks and shirt, although cream-colored, looked perfectly clean if a little crumpled. And was this guy into his jewelry or what? With a so many pieces around his neck, it was surprising he could stand up straight. Behind him trailed four young women as naked as the day they were born.

What’s a Great Marshal without a harem?
I thought.

It explained the heaters, anyway and reminded me how damned hot I was getting in my Arctic gear.

Then came some more blue, numbered guards and a large group of other men—all clean and healthy-looking compared to the ones I’d seen outside.

Valdus caught site of me and walked to his throne maintaining an unbroken stare, which I matched

He may be
their
Great Marshal, but he’s not mine.

He sat as the six men of the group took place by their chairs, three either side. The rest of the men and guards stood behind my escorts and me. Valdus clicked his fingers and everyone in the room simultaneously got down on one knee and bowed. Everyone except for me. They stayed there as Valdus glowered at me saying nothing, before clicking his fingers once more signaling for them to rise.

“You are challenging my authority, Outlander?”

“If that’s how you wanna take it, then sure. But if you don’t wanna take it that way... Well, that’s fine too,” I said with a toothy smile, which he returned.

“You speak with a strange accent, Outlander. From where do you hail?”

“From here, Los Angeles, but not from this time.”

He roared with laughter, causing his retinue to do the same.

“So you’re a time traveler are you, Outlander?”

“In a way, yes,” I said and went on to explain the
Juno
mission and what happened.

To his credit, he listened intently, at times smiling as if he thought it all a big joke.

“So right now the ship is in low Earth orbit.”

“I know God’s Kingdom is sometimes called Earth by outlanders, but what is this
orbit
? Is this a place?”

He’d obviously understood nothing I’d told him about space and the
Juno Ark
.

I sighed and went about explaining it.

“Orbit means the ship is circling above the planet in space, once every ninety minutes. You know the Earth’s a ball, right?”

“Enough!” he shouted as the calm, almost jovial face of Valdus, changed into an angry glare. “All lies.
You
, Outlander, are a clever trickster trying to infiltrate my domain. God has spoken to me and told me this. I was nearly willing to believe you and overlook your disrespect and your crimes.”

We were getting on so well, but his mask had taken only ten minutes to slip.

I said nothing.

With a guy like this, whatever I said wouldn’t help. He was in a rage and used to getting his way from what I’d seen. None of his beautiful sex slaves would’ve given this asshole the time of day back in 2070.

He stood and said, angrily, “I’ll show you what we do to criminals here.”

Pointing to the Roman blinds covering the long, tall windows, he ordered, “Open them!”

Four guards ran to the ropes and opened the four blinds. A cavity, maybe fifteen feet deep, had been carved from the ice, which ran across all four frames as one space. In front of each frame stood a post and tied to each was the naked body of a man, all mutilated and bloody. I looked away. It was a horrific sight. Blood covered the icy floor around the posts and the leftmost body had already started to decompose. Then I saw the bearded face of the poor wretch on the right try to look up, but not manage it.

I looked at Valdus in disgust.

“You animal... Can’t you at least put him out of his misery?”

The sneering leader just laughed.

“These men were criminals not worthy of the games. They
deserve
their fate as God intended.”

“I don’t know what god you think you’re talking to, but he sure isn’t the one I know.”

“The two on the left were food thieves. This one was committed heresy—much like you, Outlander. The other one had intercourse without authorization.”

“You killed him for having
sex
? What gives you the right? Oh, let me guess ... your god?”

“Yes, you are beginning to understand. Only I can authorize coupling and procreation, as God’s representative. It is necessary for our stock to be strong and obedient and godly. People live in my domain of free will. They are welcome to leave, but usually they do not get far with no food and no clothes, which belong to me, of course.”

“
Well, of course,
your majesty,” I said, sardonically, bowing.

Sarcasm obviously wasn’t a big thing around here.

“Men, remove the dead,” he ordered, pointing to the posts.

Two guards jumped to it and emerged outside from a side door. They untied the leftmost bodies before dragging them away to somewhere unseen. The view made me queasy and I willed my mind to find some hope in this desperate nightmare of a place.

One of the lackeys beside Valdus got up and showed a piece of paper to the despot, who nodded.

“Before we hear the case against the outlander, we will allow him to see our justice in action. Bring her out!”

The doors by the stage opened and out came two guards behind a petite, mid-twenties woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. She wore only a brown, hessian sack with holes cut for the head and arms. Her face was a mess, with a black eye and cut lip rivaling any of the wife battering I’d seen as a cop. Like me, she had manacles but no leg irons. I guessed there wasn’t anywhere to run to without freezing to death. They led her in front of the stage and pushed her to her knees, her head bowed in submission to Valdus.

“Ah, young Myleene. Not so pretty these days. I trust my men have been looking after you.”

She said nothing.

The dark-skinned girl—a member of the harem, on the bed behind Valdus—looked pained as she exchanged glances with Myleene.

“Well, answer girl!” he bellowed.

“Yes, Great Marshal.”

“You know why you’re here, but for the benefit of the outlander read the charge,” he said to the lackey on his left.

“Great Marshal, she is charged with refusing intercourse with noble Marius and of heresy,” said the lackey, sycophantically.

“Serious charges, hmm? So, how do you plead?”

“Guilty, Great Marshal.”

Her dark-skinned friend, naked on the bed behind, looked down in sorrow.

“Ah, excellent! As a reward for your honesty, I will commute your execution and give you your day at the games,” he said, beaming.

“Thank you, Great Marshal.”

“Take her away!”

A chill ran up my spine as they led her out and left me wondering what the games were exactly. Nothing good.

“Now, before we see justice before God, I would like to give the outlander a lesson in history. Perhaps dispelling your ignorance will help you in this life or the next.”

“I’d rather skip your bogus history, if that’s okay, oh mighty one,” I said, grinning.

“You will hear my wisdom!”

“What a clown,” I muttered, unable to stop myself.

But a dangerous clown
, I corrected myself.

He either didn’t hear or chose to ignore me.

“I am the twelfth Great Marshal to rule this domain after my father, my grandfather and our ancestors before us. Great Marshal William commanded a powerful military which secured this region and gave prosperity for generations to come.”

“Call this prosperity?” I said, incredulously.

“Most certainly I do! You see—that is your ignorance showing itself again. Before Great Marshal William, there was only chaos and death. Legend tells of a great apocalypse before the legions of God organized our new civilization.”

“Civilization? This?”

“Yes, ignorant Outlander! Have you not seen our city, our electricity and our technology? We are the center of armaments and food production for many thousands of miles around. The tribes tremble in fear of my name and gladly give tribute.”

He spread his arms forth, looking around the room in pride.

Absolute power and an exploited populace, coming soon to a failed state near you,
I thought.

“All of this has taken generations—centuries of brilliant minds and hard work.”

I had to talk to this deluded dictator in his own terms while he was in the mood to talk.

“So tell me about this apocalypse... What do you know?”

“God unleashed great fire and flood upon those unworthy of this world. The corruption of his Kingdom was wiped away and a new righteous class of people inherited it.”

“And what do you know of the civilization before the apocalypse?”

“Little is known for sure. That is how God would like it so that we are not tempted to follow the ways of the distant past. I remember that one time, as a young man, some outlanders came here from the sky, in a machine. My father spoke to the outlanders and welcomed them. They told us they had traveled from far away—from a land they called Hawaii. They wore strange clothes and carried things that we had never seen before, including the radio that we still use today. But after speaking with them, my father saw that they were ungodly, not least because flight is forbidden.”