2050 by Dave Borland - HTML preview

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chapter thirty-three

Warlock was guiding the swooping craft along the river when suddenly he cried out loud, “Son of a bitch. What was that,” he shouted. “Something’s down there. Just a second ago. Now there’s nothing being picked up. I’m going to swing back over that spot. It’s on the system. Run it back.”

Martin, who was half asleep, quickly came alive and looked at the scanner. He hit a button that caused a one minute replay. There was an obvious blurred reference by the walkway.

As Warlock banked over the same spot, there was nothing. “Not picking anything up now. Whatever was there must have headed for those rocks by that hill,” he shouted.

“Can you land anywhere?” Martin shouted back.

“Nowhere around here. River’s narrow at this bend and its moving fast, plus the wind is picking up. No opening anywhere around, that I can see. Nothing on the scanner either.”

“Send me down. I’ll look around!” Martin shouted directly into Warlock’s face.

“McDonald, just use your mouthpiece. I can hear that way. Don’t panic, for Christ’s sake. Might’ve been a goddamn bear or something, two actually. Your friend didn’t have company did he?”

“Not that I know of. Heat registered in the high percentile for humans, but only for a flash. Went off the scale so fast, I don’t know what the hell it was. We went further east than I thought we could today. Let’s come back by here tomorrow. Glide more. This thing is quiet, but it does make exit noise,” Martin spoke into the mouthpiece.

“Okay, I’ll put this down next to the falls in Ohiopyle. We can spend the night and get going first thing in the morning. I was there last spring. Nice little airpark. I’ve already sent them my Code Graph, should get a response shortly and then we can land. I could use a couple cold brews and a few hours solid sleep.”

“I know we’re close. I just feel it. Listen, we’ll go back out at dawn. If he starts up at daybreak we might surprise him. First, I want to come back here. Gliding, so we can see if we can spot who ever ducked up to those rocks. Based on this GPS scanner, if that was him, we can concentrate on the trail from Morgan’s Creek, all the way to Ohiopyle and then to Confluence. That Red Sensor is great, McDonald. By the way, Central relayed me that they set up two guards at Cumberland and sent a team on the trail from there. By pinching from both sides, we should have him by tomorrow. That’s assuming he took this crazy trail in the first place. Maybe he went some other way”, Warlock shouted in a derisive tone.

“He spent much time studying this trail, especially the last few days. He’s on this trail, somewhere,” Martin said confidently

“By the way, I’ve been thinking. What happens if your boy has nothing on him? What grounds have you got to hold him? We may be a bit strange as far as building a new society, but you know how due process is the backbone of our constitution. No one fucks with due process, no matter if the guy tried to kill someone. You’d better find something on him, some proof,” he said back over the screaming whoosh of the scooter.

“I have a signed warrant. The original’s in the system. I know the Code. I studied it. I know you can’t search someone without it so I got it before I left yesterday. Judge Jones authorized it. I got it, don’t worry,” Martin said forcefully. He looked past Warlock and down at a grouping of lights in the pitch darkness. “Is that Ohiopyle, Warlock?,” he said to the commander and pointed below them.

“That’s it,” he shouted. That’s were we’re headed. The Skimmer banked and flew in low over the water and then swooped in towards the small town by the river.

“By the way, McDonald, based on what my data screen is telling me, the average man walking non-stop, with a fifty, even a hundred pound backpack, would be somewhere between Confluence back there and where we just saw something.

Martin was quiet, studying the screened map and asked, “Anything else of importance between Indian Run and Confluence, other than Ohiopyle?”

“Nothing, well there is Fallingwater, if you look here.” Warlock said pointing to his pocket screen with a topographical display of the quadrant they were flying over. It’s on your screen.” He reached over and tapped a spot on Martin’s unit.

“What is Fallingwater?” Martin asked.

“An old relic of the last century. Nothing there of value, especially for a man fleeing the country. He won’t be there. If he is a fugitive, he’s on the trail, probably moving at night.”

“Seems I read about Fallingwater in Sloan’s stuff,” Martin replied. “Makes me wonder,” he said as he looked at the topo.

At that moment, the Skimmer swept over Ohiopyle and began a glide pattern. “Rivers running hard, look at it there,” Warlock pointed down to the river running between beams of powerful lights.

Martin peered down at the settlement as Warlock brought the Skimmer down over a solid concrete pad next to a two story stone building with a Red and Blue flag of the Atlantica Republic.

“This will do for this short night, McDonald. Let’s get our asses out of here.”

Martin and Warlock climbed out, both stretched their cramped bodies before walking into the encampment that was beside the landing site. Built into the surrounding hills were glass enclosed homes with a sign announcing,

“RESIDENCY AREA – ATLANTICA MILITIA, OHIOPYLE”

“Over there, McDonald. There’s an inn still open.”

“Good, I’m starved all of a sudden.”

There was only one person working the Old Stone Inn at that late hour. The woman had been sleeping but she told them that it is always opened as it had been for over two hundred years. They sat by a window in the stone structure as the woman started up a fire. It was chilly in the dining area. Warlock quickly downed his first draft of the dark beer and a second was put in front of him.

“Feel better already, McDonald. It’s amazing what a good beer will do for one’s spirit,” he said as he sipped from the foaming second mug placed in front of him. Martin could see the transformation in the older man’s lined face, as he relaxed. Warlock put down the mug and looked at him.

“McDonald, how in the hell are little holes in the wall like this place going to survive the next fifty years. We’re halfway through the twenty-first century and everything is in the cities, everything. I’m a country boy. Don’t like the cement and metal of the city but that’s all there is today.”

“This little town is at the headwaters of a river which flows all the way to Pittsburgh. It’s got to be protected.

The rivers of Alleghenia dike system flow from many sources, both above ground and under. Much of the water is diverted into the Aquifer so we need these outposts here to protect the rivers.

Warlock took a long sip from his glass. He wiped the droplets off the side of the pint, put his glass down, looked at this young black man with the strange accent and said, “You know McDonald, I didn’t like you one bit when I first met you. Thought you were a smart ass. Still think that, but I was just realizing that this new country of ours needs to have firebrands like you. I’ve got my job and I’m the best at what I do. But you, you could work in the top floors of that government. You got a good brain. I’m just afraid those that run the Administration will get fat and lazy.”

“Can’t happen, Warlock. That cannot happen. We have the chance of lifetime to make this country work, for everyone. I will do what I can to see that happens,” Martin said.

“Here’s to equality,” Warlock said, raising his glass.

Then he added with a yawn, “What do you think, maybe that’s enough for tonight. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Fine with me”, said Martin. “You did all the work. I drifted off during the flight, but you must be whipped, so let’s go,” Martin responded.

“That was good beer and by God that chili will stay with me for a while.”

They walked along in the quiet outpost, back to their Skimmer. They took sleeping bags into the empty waiting room next to the landing pad, in a few minutes both were asleep.

“Excuse me, sir. You need to wake up”.

Martin was totally exhausted when he finally fell into a deep sleep. He had set his watch alarm for eleven thirty so they could get off the ground by midnight. He was startled when he felt a tug on his shoulder. He was completely disoriented. The tugging became a shake. He rolled over, slowly opening up his eyes into the brightness of the room’s light. He could see the dark brown eyes of a boy he’d never seen before, shouting at him to wake up. Martin was up in a second.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Sorry to wake you up, sir, but someone is snooping around the Skimmer. The small, nervous voice came from the young man whom he now recognized as the boy who had shown them to this room earlier. Martin looked into deep set eyes with water dripping off his hair. He wore a hooded rain jacket, which was soaking wet. A booming roll of thunder sounded at that moment.

“What do you mean?” Martin shouted and the boy pulled back.

“There’s someone in your Skimmer, sir. Seems to be two of them. My room’s right off the landing pad. After I dropped you off last night I went back to work. I was just about asleep when I heard noises coming from the Skimmer.”

“Warlock. Warlock,” Martin shouted over to the curled up and snoring figure in the far corner of the cubicle.

Warlock still had on a tiny ear piece with music that had put him to sleep.

“Warlock,” he shouted again as he stood over him. He shook him violently.

“My God, McDonald, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouted as he rolled over and onto his feet,

snapping his pants buckle.

“Someone’s fooling around with the Skimmer. Let’s go,” he shouted to the startled, but calm commander.

They raced out of the room dressed in their light sleeping suits. The boy watched them storm by and followed.

The building was on a bluff and a trail with overhead lights wound its way between pines to the landing pad by the river. As they came to the bottom of the path, they could see dark shapes inside the glass bubble of the Skimmer.

Warlock was at the Skimmer bay first. He tried to pry open the side door. He pounded on the door. Martin went to the other side and did the same. “McDonald, come here,” Warlock shouted. Martin ducked down and over to Warlock.

“I’m going through the escape hatch underneath.” As he said this, the side door opened and flipped upwards. A figure filled the narrow doorway, turned, and came down the dropped step ladder.

It was difficult lighting on the pad. Martin could not believe what he was looking at. First, a tall, obviously black woman in a tan jump suit stepped onto the tarmac, followed closely by a shorter black woman similarly dressed. They didn’t say anything as they stood side by side almost at attention. Martin couldn’t believe his eyes. They stared at him with a calmness on their faces that was disturbing to the normally aggressive patriot.

Warlock looked at them with a quick sense of fear in his face. They both wore side arms.

Martin was astounded by the two black women. The older woman was about two inches taller with a thicker, muscular body. She had dark piercing eyes with a dramatic crew cut of black hair. The smaller of the two had her dark brown hair pulled back tightly and had a softer, gentler look with liquid grey eyes.

“Who the hell are you?” he said. “And what are you doing here and why are you carrying weapons?”

The taller woman took a step forward toward McDonald and at that point, Warlock came up to McDonald and pulled his weapon from a side holster. It was a slim paralyzer gun. He straightened up and said, “Lady, stop right there and both of you take those weapons out of their holsters. Now!” he shouted.

The taller woman stopped and turned to the other lady, saying something that Martin or Warlock could not hear.

She then turned back to them and in the same motion unsnapped her holster, pulled out a large, black gun. The other woman who hadn’t spoken, did the same. They both held out the guns towards Warlock.

“Just drop them,” he said.

Martin walked over and picked up the guns, looked them over, and went to the women and said, “One more time, who are you and why are you carrying these things?”

“We’re runaways from the National Guard in South Carolina,” the taller woman replied. “We left Charleston, hoping to get to either Pittsburgh to be specific, or maybe hitch a ride to New York or I guess you call it Nuevo York, now.”

“What’s with these weapons?”

“What do you think? I told you we’re with the South Carolina National Guard and in a foreign country.”

“Your names and ID’s!”

The tall one looked at her partner and back to Martin without replying.

“Did you hear me, lady? Your names and ID’s, now!” he snapped.

“My name is Isabelle Dupree,” said the older of the two. “Besides my National Guard duty, my profession is, was, a professor at Emerson College in Spartansburg, South Carolina. This is Elena Carver, fellow Guards person and also an associate at Emerson. We are trying to get away from the Carolinas. Maybe you don’t know what it’s like in the new Anglo country of America down south of here, it’s a lot like post-reconstruction days of the Civil War. That is if you know what post-Reconstruction was all about.”

“I understand Post-Reconstruction, believe me. So why Pittsburgh?” Martin asked, as he looked past Isabelle.

Isabelle hesitated and said, “We want a free life. We want to be free to do whatever we can achieve with our abilities. We have seen media reports on the new country of Atlantica, which is seeking Africanos with degrees to work in the government. We looked at a map and decided this area was a back way to get into Atlantica from the Carolina’s. From here we could go east to Nuevo York or west to Pittsburgh.”

Warlock lowered his pistol and said, “Let’s see your ID.”

“All we have is our ID from school?” said Isabelle, as she pulled out a card from a small, black case that was in a sleeve pocket. She handed a picture ID to Warlock. “Look like me?” she asked, with a slight uplift in her eyes.

“Jesus, that’s a bad picture. Sure this is you?” said Warlock, very seriously. “I mean you’re a good looking woman, but this is bad.”

“Man, I know your kidding. We may be gypsies, but don’t give me any of your male bullshit. That’s me, all right. That’s an ID, not a Miss World shot. Beautiful me, so what of it?” she answered right into his face.

“Lady, I was rapping on you. It’s a good picture. How about you?” he demanded of the smaller, younger woman. She reached into her back pocket and brought out a small leather pouch. From a packet of data cards she took a picture ID and gave it to Martin.

“Elena Carver, twenty-two,” Martin said looking closely at the ID. “You’re a young gypsy. Twenty–two years old and running away from home.” Martin looked back at the card and then at the two of them. “How did you two get this far?” he asked.

“Well we both served in the National Guard. One of our close Anglo friends totally understood why we were upset at staying in America. Things were okay and fairly liberal but our potentials were limited. We wanted a chance in the outside world. Our friend,a pilot, was sympathetic. Since we were in the Guard, we would have had to get special visas to travel out of the country, which would have been a year’s wait. We decided to leave.

Our friend monitors the perimeter of the northern American border so he waited for bad weather to make an incursion as far north as possible, which is how we got here. We left this evening, flew low in rain just above tree tops until he dropped us here no more than an hour ago,” she finished.

That’s quite a tale, lady, quite a tale,” Warlock replied.

“So you came here, but why?”

“Our pilot thought it was such an isolated post and yet close to the Atlantica Turnpike. Actually, we didn’t care where he dropped us, just as long as it was within Atlantica. A lot depended on our reception by the first Security people we met, which I guess is you two.”

“That’s probably the first correct thing you’ve said yet. We are Security,” Warlock answered angrily. “What were you doing inside my Skimmer” Warlock asked, his anger building.

“To be honest, sir, we were tired and had no clue what we were going to do next. We knew we were in

Ohiopyle and were happy about that. After our friend took off we saw your craft. We came over and were trying to find out where it was stationed, when you two showed up,” she said calmly and convincingly.

“That’s really interesting,” Martin finally spoke up. We’re changing your plans again, ladies. You’ll be going to Pittsburgh all right, but under guard. You’ll be going with us. After Security interrogates you, they can decide what to do. I don’t buy your story, especially with you packing weapons.”

Turning to Warlock, who had put away his pistol and was checking the landing gear of the Skimmer,Martin yelled, “Major Warlock, keep your weapon out. We have to get ourselves moving as soon as possible. These ladies will in our custody until we can get them back to Pittsburgh. ”

“That’s good, McDonald,” Warlock said. “Nothing tampered with as far as I can tell.”

“I’m going to take them back to the HQ here and they can question them. We need to get some sleep, so we can get going in a few hours.” McDonald brought up his laser gun and pointed it at the two women. “OK you two, let’s get moving. Maybe local Security can get more out of you.”

“Sir, all we want is our freedom. Taking us to Pittsburgh is fine. You can check us out or whatever else you need to do,” said Isabelle.

“We’ll find out who you are,” Martin replied. “If you check out fine. Makes it easier, but nevertheless you’re going to Pittsburgh with us, as our prisoners. Comprende?”

At the Ohiopyle HQ nothing came up in the initial security check on either woman. Their numbers or visuals were empty. Even the old U.S. system, which was integrated into the Atlantica database, came up empty. This bothered Martin, especially with the older woman, but he didn’t say a word. They were going to Pittsburgh anyway. Two more trophies for him with the Administration, that’s all he knew. If they were innocent, as refugees they would be treated accordingly. But if they were infiltrators, they would be jailed. He had to find Sloan and get them all back to Pittsburgh for Security to sort it out.Local Security took the two women into a cell. Martin went back to his room. Just as he was falling asleep, Warlock came into the room. Neither spoke and they were soon asleep.