The Dream Widow (30 page)

A pattern of tiny squares covered his jacket, all in different shades of green. His blue trousers were tucked into worn boots and a brown glove covered his left hand. The walnut handle of a revolver stuck from a holster on his belt.

Wilson felt a rush of sudden emotion from the past: anger at his ex-wife Joanie, love for Parvati, hatred toward Sergio. For a second he stared at Jack like he was looking into a mirror, then blinked and the feeling went away.

“Are you really here or just a memory fragment?”

“I’ve been called lots of things but not that,” said Jack. “I’m as real as any of you in this crazy, mixed up place––Heaven, Hell, Valhalla or whatever you want to call it.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Can we skip the twenty questions and move on to what I have to do? Otherwise I’m going back to bed.”

“Back to bed? Don’t you know this is just––”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I’ve had this conversation thirty thousand times. It was boring the first time and it’s boring now. Let me do whatever I’m supposed to do and we all can go back to being human popsicles.”

Wilson shrugged. “Fine. There’s a problem with the controller domes. Reed and I are stuck in this section of the backup memory or something.”

“Why hasn’t anyone disconnected you?”

“There’s nobody left that would know how to do that. Reed was the last controller and the rest of our people don’t have a clue about the machinery.”

Jack laughed. “Sounds like you’re both SOL. I’m in the same boat––I don’t know anything about these electronics.”

“Parvati said the system will send defenses when we start collecting the data. That’s probably where I’ll need your help.”

“I’ve seen them.” Jack pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “PLA infantry––Chinese Red Army. From the original AK’s and cold-weather gear, probably from the 1962 war with India.”

“The northern invaders,” said Reed with disgust.

Wilson leaned forward. “How can you tell that from just a uniform?”

“Kid, before they put me in deep freeze I spent my entire life in the army. I worked alongside most of the mountain troops in the world and was shot at by the rest. Military history was part of the job, especially when it came to high-altitude tomfoolery.”

“So you’ve been here before?”

“The unit I was with in ’37 fought in Tawang and Arunachal Pradesh. We should have rotated back to Fort Benning, but I ran over a general’s dog. We ended up freezing our asses off in these mountains.”

“Will this man be able to help?” asked Reed.

Jack held up a hand. “Sorry, I don’t speak the language.”

“He wants to know if you can help us,” said Wilson.

“I can handle myself in a fight and I know how to distract the security bots.”

“Like how?”

A crash came from the inside of the cafe. Wilson heard the waitress scream and shouts of male voices.

Jack stood up and pointed to the outside wall. “We’ve stayed too long. Climb over and into the alley.”

“But where do we go?”

“No time to explain,” said Jack. “Meet me here tonight.”

“Here?”

“Was I talking to myself? Yes, here!”

Jack gave them a boost over the high brick wall of the garden. Wilson, Reed, and the boy ran through the alley into the crowded streets. Behind him, Wilson heard rifle shots and a handful of loud booms that sounded very much like a .357 revolver.

ALL THREE HAD A REST at Rogspo’s humble shack. After a meal of hard-boiled eggs and a dish of leafy green vegetables, Wilson decided to see Jack by himself.

Just like the night before, street lamps shone bright on alternating blocks of the street. After what happened at the cafe Wilson kept his eyes to the ground and avoided any contact with the memory fragments, security bots or not.

The yellow girls still danced over the cafe. Wilson peeked through the glazed window but couldn’t make out any faces in the clumps of diners. Not people––memory fragments following a loop, he thought.

The alley around the back smelled of rotten vegetables and muddy, spiced tea. Wilson crossed his legs beside a pile of wet boxes and meditated quietly, eyes closed and palms facing up. He went over each trick in his mind but didn’t activate any.

The scent of burning tobacco pushed through the thick stench of garbage and Wilson looked up.

Jack held a glowing coal to his mouth. He lowered the twist of herb and blew smoke.

“Having fun?”

Wilson shook his head. “What happened today?”

“My day hasn’t been so good, Wilfred,” said Jack. “I had an awful steak for dinner. I’d be willing to bet the cook’s never seen a cow, or even dreamed of one.”

“It’s Wilson––my name is Wilson.”

“Sorry. I don’t know why, but you look more like a Wilfred.”

“Great. What about the gunshots?”

Jack patted the walnut grip of the revolver on his belt. “I took care of those guys. For some reason the security bots don’t like it when you and I are together. Or maybe it’s me and the old guy. I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Or not.”

“The old guy’s name is Reed.”

“Whatever. If more zipperheads show up just shoot them with whatever’s in that leather bag at your waist. Unless it’s just a hairbrush.”

Wilson handed over his pistol.

“Nice––.357 Magnum,” said Jack. “Same model as mine.”

“It’s the same gun.”

Jack unclasped his holster and pulled out his revolver. In the dim light of a street lamp, he compared his nickel-plated weapon to Wilson’s tarnished, black and gray pistol.

“Not the same. Yours is beat all to hell. You should take better care of these things, son.”

Wilson opened his mouth to argue, but decided to change the subject.

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“You need to collect this data, right? There’s a major festival in a month and it might be a good place to press the flesh, as they say.”

 Wilson stared down at his hands. “Reed suggested that I get people to come to me instead of the other way around. If Parvati agrees, I think I have a plan.”

Jack nodded. “Go talk to her tomorrow.”

FIFTEEN

T
he smell of frying meat and the quiet scrape of pans wafted under the door and woke Badger. She lay still in the darkness and listened to Mary and the other cooks speak in soft voices.

She threw off her blanket suddenly and ran out of the room holding her mouth. In a small closet she vomited into an oval toilet for over a minute. A baby began to wail like a siren from a nearby room.

Badger turned and Mary stood in the doorway.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

“It’s fine,” said Badger. “Must have been something I ate.”

“Of course.”

Mary put a hand on her hip and looked Badger up and down. A grin spread across her face.

“Kira ....”

Badger wiped sweat from her forehead. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“You were sick yesterday morning, too. How long has it been?”

Badger sighed. “Three months.”

Mary leaped forward and hugged her tight. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Please, Mary––can we keep this a secret?”

“Don’t worry about it, dear. Brownie and me and the rest of the women will help you through all of it. Oh, you mean the men? I wouldn’t worry about that––a man doesn’t know a girl’s pregnant until she slaps him in the face and says, ‘I’m having a baby!’ They’re clueless when it comes to anything important.”

Badger hugged her. “Thank you.”

After a queue for a shower and a light breakfast of stale crackers and water, Badger walked to the center of the cavern and checked the web of dripping tubes and cables attached to Wilson. He looked no different than a month ago.

“In sickness or in health,” she murmured. “Cat’s teeth, that sounds corny.”

The hoarseness of her voice made her uncomfortable. She sat with her back against Reed’s dome and listened to the sounds of the next group of women and children having breakfast. The rest of the leadership team gradually wandered over for the daily meeting.

Mast had started to grow a beard. He claimed it was because he hated shaving with cold water, but Badger guessed Mina just wanted her husband to look older.

Carter still wore bandages on his face and arms from a grenade in the tunnels the previous week. He and Zhang looked worn to the point of breaking, like wooden rods bent double.

Martinez had recovered from the life-threatening gunshot wounds he’d suffered in the first battle, but if there was anything he hated it was squeezing through the filthy, spider-infested tunnels under Station.

Robb was the only who showed any energy. For some reason he really liked handling lizards.

“Found another one last night, in the back end of corridor 42,” he said with a smile. “I think this one honestly likes me.”

“Slather on the wrong juice and it’ll like how you taste,” said Mast.

Badger looked back toward the medical area. “Is Mary coming to this?”

“I just saw her,” said Carter.

“I didn’t ask if you saw her. I asked if she’s coming.”

Carter stared at her. “Yes.”

“Let’s do this now,” said Robb. “It’s not easy keeping three dozen range lizards fed.”

“We do it when we’re ready and not one second before,” said Badger. “What’s the status on collection?”

Zhang rubbed his eyes and sighed. “There’s enough spider glands. I just need a few minutes to prepare the ones we caught yesterday.”

“Have we heard from Yishai and his men?”

Mast nodded. “All of them know the signal and will be ready.”

“Good. Zhang and I will take the final batch after the meeting.”

The door to the medical area hissed open. The group waited for Mary and the thick-armed Brownie to walk across the cavern.

“Sorry we’re late, everyone,” said Brownie.

“Are the medical teams ready?”

“Yes,” said Mary. “You’re planning for today?”

“For tonight. Please have everyone prepared to move.”

Brownie laughed. “They were ready the day we came down here.”

“There is one request we’d like to make,” said Mary.

“Yes?”

“None of us have had a regular service since Father Reed came down here. Thinking about what you’re going to do tonight ... we should have a prayer meeting.”

“We’ve talked about this before,” said Badger. “How can we have a service when both priests are lying here unconscious?”

“Right,” said Zhang. “Who would speak?”

“Kira should speak,” said Brownie.

Badger spread her arms. “I know as much about running a prayer meeting as I do flying a spaceship!”

“We’ll organize it, you just need to be the speaker,” said Mary.

“I don’t have anything to say.”

Mast cleared his throat. “You don’t have to say much. I agree with Brownie and Mary, it should be you. Shall we have a vote?”

“I see how this is shaping up,” said Badger. “No more stupid voting––I’ll do it.”

The meeting ended. After an hour the cavern boomed with the noise of hundreds of mothers and boisterous children. No benches or chairs were available, so everyone sat on the cold, polished concrete. Some used blankets for a cushion.

After a few songs such as “Tell Me the Old, Old Story,” “What a Friend We Have In Jesus,” and “Just As I Am,” the children settled down.

Badger climbed onto one of the darkened controller domes in her bare feet.

“Don’t worry, this will be short,” she said, her voice carrying far in the quiet cavern.

“I know we’ve all suffered the past few months, and I don’t know what to say about that. I think our lives down here would be worse if it weren’t for the hard work of everyone. I can’t single anyone out because all of you have done your best to keep this family together. Thank you.”

A few women in the crowd clapped or murmured approval, and a toddler squealed loudly.

“But it’s not over,” said Badger. “The Circle haven’t been able to break through the entrance, but that doesn’t mean they won’t. Luck and the freezing weather have been on our side, but that will change. We’ve had a plan in place for a few weeks now. It’s dangerous––not the last shot in our rifle, but it’s the best we’ve got. If it works we’ll bury the remains of our friends and you’ll be with your husbands and sisters in Station.”

At this, the crowd cheered and clapped.

“Even if the plan fails I’m not giving up.” Badger paused and stared at the darkness behind the crowd. “Most of you know I was born in the tribes. Like many of you I came here with nothing but the rags on my back––no family, no food, and no place to live. The people of Station welcomed me and gave all of that back to me. I’m not leaving even if we fail tonight. I’m not giving up, not until they squeeze the last drop of blood from my veins.”