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June 26, 2021 83 mins

This week's chapters from Robert's fiction podcast, "After the Revolution."


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Episode Transcript

Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:02):
Chapter nine, Sasha. They unloaded her in plaino. The porters
who cracked open her crate, two men in dirty jumpsuits,
seemed disappointed that she wasn't food. One of the men
was tall and balding, the others shorter and still fairly young.
They had white skin burnt reddish by the sun, and
neither of them looked like they bathed in quite some time.

(00:23):
Their faces were gaunt. Sasha didn't see any extra fat
on either of them. Add Dang, said the tall one, welcome,
said the short one. I hope you're ready for what
this is. They were not exactly the welcome crew she'd expected.
Saul had told her a man named David would be waiting,
but neither of the porters knew who David was. They

(00:44):
seemed much more frustrated than joyous at her presence. The
building wasn't what she'd expected either. It looked like an
old FedEx facility, with all the branding covered by red
spray paint. There was trash everywhere, mostly food waste from
crates of aid supplies that had been opened too late.
The spoiled food had been shoved into large piles and
left to rot. In one center of the large room.

(01:05):
Sasha guessed this had once been a loading dock where
delivery trucks would have dropped off and received packages. The
room was filled with a mix of aid crates and
miscellaneous boxes, stacked into piles by a ragged army of
tired looking men. Like the two men who had greeted her,
they all looked malnourished and skinny. The only people not
dressed in blue jumpsuits were a pair of armed guards.

(01:27):
They stood in the back of the room, near a
door that seemed to lead deeper into the facility. Both
men had white paint crosses daubed across the body armor
on their chests. Both carried very large black rifles. One
of them ran over once he saw her emerge from
the shipping crate. Welcome to the heavenly Kingdom, ma'am, the
boy drawled. He looked young enough to have come from
her own high school. There was a dusting of acne

(01:49):
on his unlined face, and his round cheeks still held
a bit of baby fat. Thank you, sir, she said,
and pointed to the cross on his chest. It's good
to see that. The young martyr smiled. Yes, ma'am, we
wear the cross here. He glanced at the porters and
narrowed his eyes. Most of us anyway. He extended his hand.
Sasha took it, and he helped her take her first

(02:11):
few steps into this strange new world. Her legs felt
wobbly and unstable after so much time crammed into a crate.
She was grateful for the help. I'm looking for David,
she said, Do you know where I might find him? No,
David here, ma'am, the martyr replied, But Darrell's the team
leader for this receiving yard. He'll set you to rights.
They walked through the rear door and into the building proper.

(02:33):
Sasha's escort guided her past old offices and break rooms
into what looked like it had been a waiting area
for customers. It had been transformed into an office. The
only occupant was a single man, surrounded by four folding tables,
each piled high with a mix of paper shipping manifests
and folding e paper displays. He sat in the middle
of it all and scrolled feverishly on a heavy government

(02:54):
issued tablet computer. This man, Darrell, was tall and broad shouldered,
but stooped forward. It looked as if his spine had
been bent at the mid's shoulders. Sasha relished the deep
lines on his face, the bags under his eyes, his
receding hairline, and even the way his joints popped audibly
as he stood. When she entered. No man she'd met
in the American Federation had aged so honestly, not even

(03:17):
her father. Sasha realized with a start that this was
the first older man she'd ever really seen. He must
be fifty at least. Hello, sir, she started, Ah nuts,
he spat not another one? Ee you. The man had
a thick drawl. He sounded country in a way Sasha
had only heard in movies. Her voice caught in her
throat as she tried to respond, Sir, I'm I'm looking

(03:39):
for David. Yep. He grunted you and every other teenager.
What's come through a depot? I'll tell you the same
thing I told them others. Ain't no David here. Sasha's
eyes widened. She squeaked and immediately hated herself for it. No, No,
David Darrel must have seen the fear in her face
and taken pity, because his tone softened. Listen. He glanced

(04:01):
at the small screen wrapped around his wrist. Tapped it
a couple of times and looked back to her. I
got about fifteen minutes left here. Four I got a
mating downtown. I can drop you off. Folks there can
help you get set up if and you decide to stay.
I would appreciate that very much, Sasha said. Her face
reddened again when she asked, is there a restroom I
can use around here? I'd like to clean up a bit. Yep,

(04:23):
the man grunted and nodded towards a red door in
the back of his office. That's brabbit. No shower, but
the water runs. Sasha couldn't really smell herself anymore, which
she knew she probably smelled terrible. The thing she wanted
most was a long, hot shower with shampoo. Holy God,
she realized, shampoo is amazing. She was so preoccupied with

(04:44):
the thought of clean hair that she didn't even chastise
herself for the blasphemy. Sasha knew she wouldn't find shampoo
in this restroom, but any kind of clean was better
than her current level of filth. She thanked Darrell and
stepped into his bathroom. Sasha told herself it wasn't the
worst bathroom she'd ever seen, even though that was a
clear lie. The floor, once white tile, was so crusted

(05:05):
with black and yellow she could only tell they'd ever
bin tile by the slight suggestion of squarish shapes underneath
the filth. The toilet had been shattered almost completely. All
that remained was a little circle of busted ceramic around
a hole in the ground. It seemed to function as
a squat toilet now. The sink was intact, but it
also looked like it hadn't been cleaned at all in
the last year. The metal of the faucet was green

(05:26):
where it should have been silver. Sasha held her nose,
turned the hot water on, and hoped for the best.
It took her a round minute to stop hoping for
hot water. Of course, this place didn't have a functioning
water heater. This is a war zone, you stupid girl,
Sasha cursed herself. She felt tears at the edge of
her vision, but fought them down. Slowly, deliberately. She pulled

(05:47):
off her top, undid her braw, and hung both from
the door knob. As she did, she thought of the
Book of Romans. We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that
suffering produces endurance and endurance produces character, and character or
produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame,
because God's love has been poured into our hearts through
the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. The

(06:09):
word of God gave her some comfort, but Sasha's stomach
still churned as she scrubbed the grime from her body.
She confronted the fact that this was all real. Now.
She'd fled her home and her family, traveled to a
war zone, and now she was here. It was done.
Her great sacrifice was now real, not theoretical. The excitement
she felt at that realization was marred by an anxious

(06:30):
kind of horror at the things she'd never do now.
She hadn't really thought about that before she'd left, but
now Sasha realized that she was never going to graduate
high school, she'd never go to college, she'd never see
her father's face again. She started to cry. It surprised
her a little. For days now, her emotions had felt stunted,
buried under the very immediate concerns of escape and survival.

(06:54):
But as soon as she had a minute to breathe,
everything she hadn't been able to let herself feel flowed
out of her eyes. First, she tried to fight it,
but then she remembered something Pastor Mike had written in
one of his columns for Revelator. Embrace your pain, for
you will hurt again. Embrace your grief, for it is
a gift. Lean into the wounds the world gives you.

(07:15):
Have faith that the Lord God does not send us
burdens we ought too weak to bear. She'd left behind
a world where people denied their age with science, saved
their pain with narcotics, and fought the natural order of
the world the Lord had built. Sasha had wanted authenticity.
She'd wanted to live the truth of Christianity without compromise.
That meant leaning into this pain and letting it lift

(07:37):
her up into the arms of God. So Sasha leaned in.
She sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed, shook and shuddered with
a pain more profound than any she'd known before, and
then she stopped. She dried herself off, pulled her one
fresh pair of clothes out of her backpack, and got
dressed to go and meet the heavenly kingdom she'd sacrificed
so much to join. Darrell banked twice on the door

(08:00):
right as she slid on her socks. Mam, I gotta
get moving. Maybe do the make up later. Sasha shoved
her dirty clothes in her backpack, zipped it up, and
opened the door. The Heavenly Kingdom included rather more ship
and bullet casings than Sasha had expected. She'd known, of course,
that it was a war zone. The whole Kingdom was

(08:20):
less than two years old. Plaino had been taken just
days ago. It had all been won by blood and violence.
She'd just sort of figured the Army of God would
have cleaned up after itself. Darrell's truck was the oldest
vehicle and the first non autonomous one she'd ever ridden inside.
It was frightening to think that one person's movements were
the only thing that stood between her and a grisly death,

(08:43):
but her fear at that soon faded into anxiety at
the state of the world around them. The signs identified
this as Plaino. She knew the center of that city
had been a stronghold for the Republic of Texas and
its corporate masters. They'd been content to leave many of
the surrounding cities in the hands the Heavenly Kingdom, since
that had meant more work for the SDF in Austin.

(09:04):
Despite its proximity to the front, Plano's status as a
stronghold for some of the Republic's wealthiest citizens and corporations
had made it seem unassailable. The notoriously stingy Republic had
spent heavily on the city's garrison. Sasha still didn't know
what had happened, how a Republican stronghold had fallen so fast,
but she saw evidence of how the fall had gone

(09:24):
down all around her. The city was devastated. They drove
past a police station that was filled with bullet holes
and burnt black around its windows. They passed an elementary
school that looked as if it had been barricaded, turned
into a fortress, and then blasted apart with rockets. The
streets they rolled over had been cracked and broken by shellfire.
Sasha stared out with wide, excited eyes as they passed

(09:45):
mansions that had completely collapsed under the weight of heavy bombardment,
and all around them the streets were filled with soldiers.
There seemed to be a checkpoint every two or three minutes.
The martyrs who manned those checkpoints looked impossibly young. That
made Sasha feel a little less lonely. This is what
it looks like when a generation comes back to God,
she thought. At each stop, Darrel pulled a laminated paper

(10:08):
I d out of his pocket. The soldiers would take it,
look it over, and then ask him about her. None
of them met her eyes. Just arrived today, Darrel always said,
she's here to help build the kingdom. Thanks be to
God was the usual reply. Some of the men at
the checkpoints were enthusiastic and shouted it with all the
joy she'd expected to hear, but a few of them

(10:28):
just looked at her with eyes that were half sullen,
half hungry. Darrell, she asked, twenty minutes and three checkpoints
into their drive, what exactly happened here? I left home
the day after plain Oh fell. It felt like just
such a miracle. It seems impossible for things to change
so much, so fast. Darrell fixed her with a look
that Sasha couldn't quite read and made her nervous. The

(10:51):
next words jumbled up as they left her mouth. It's
just I mean, I know all things are possible through God,
but how how did we win here? From what I
read on the news. The older man laughed, Well, there's
your problem. Trust in the news. You ain't gonna read
much true about Texas. There all those foreign papers love
the s DF. He spat out the window for emphasis,

(11:13):
and they treat the Republic like a real government, not
like a collection of robber barons and their hired guns.
Truth is, their position was always rocky. People around here.
You'd rather live under God's law than the rule of
the rich or those Prance and Austin faggots. He spat again,
and somehow made the gesture look like an apology. Sorry
for the curse, Miss Sasha, It's been a minute since
I spent much time around a woman. She smiled in response,

(11:35):
because she wasn't really sure what else to do. And
then they turned a corner, passed a mostly intact line
of shops and a sign that welcomed them to downtown
plan Oh. The wide streets had been cordoned off by
sandbags and what looked like enormous fabric cubes filled with rocks.
Several dozen armed men milled about, and in the center
of the broad thoroughfare, Sasha saw what could only be
a gallows, built right in the middle of the two

(11:57):
lane street. It was her first allows capital punishment was
illegal in the American Federation. She stared horrified at the
way the six corpses strung up there swung to and
fro with the breeze. Sasha squeaked just a bit in shock.
She was glad the bodies weren't very close. Darrell seemed
to notice her discomfort. He looked down at her with

(12:18):
a mix of pity and understanding, ain't always pretty what
we're doing, but it's the Lord's work. The truck rolled
to a stop outside of a large red brick building
that reeked of government. Sasha couldn't tell what it had
once been. The sign was too thoroughly burned. A new
sign made of white vinyl identified this building as the
House of Miriam. This be your stop, ma'am. Darrell said,

(12:41):
thank you. She forced a smile and then asked, should
I just go in? I'll walk in. How about that?
Sasha nodded her gratitude. She wasn't a hundred percent sure
what was supposed to happen at this point. Revel latter
had claimed that every man and woman who journeyed to
the Heavenly Kingdom would be given meaningful work, food, and
as much shelter as the martyrs can provide. She knew

(13:02):
that she could expect to be housed with other young,
unmarried women, at least until she and Alexander were finally together.
But this trip and the Heavenly Kingdom was already so
very different from everything she'd expected. That was reinforced when
she stepped out of the truck and directly onto a
pile of spent bullet casings. There were burnt cars in
the street, burnt buildings all around her, and a vague

(13:23):
but persistent smell of sour milk in the air. The
feeling of dread that had built inside her since she'd
left the crate hit a new crescendo. And then Darrell
took her inside the House of Miriam, and everything changed again.
Sasha saw a middle aged woman sitting behind a desk
in a big white room while younger women sat and
lined the walls around her. The older lady had loose,

(13:44):
friendly jowls and a mop of gray hair tossed into
a lazy bun. She looked exhausted until the moment she
fixed eyes on Sasha. At that moment, her eyes lifted,
along with her lips, into a smile that was the
truest thing Sasha had ever seen. Praise be to God,
she cried, You've made it. And then a sea of
girls rose up around her. Most of them appeared to

(14:04):
have been sewing up military uniforms, but at the moment's call,
every one of them set their work down and rose
up to meet her. Sasha was swarmed by a sea
of smiling faces as girls pressed their hands to hers,
or embraced her, or prayed over her and chanted in tongues.
A dozen people told her their names at once. Sasha
went stiff, at first, shocked and a little mortified by

(14:25):
the mass display of physical affection by so many strangers.
But then the older woman made her way through the
crowd and put her hands on Sasha's shoulders. She brushed
a stray hair out of Sasha's face and fixed her
with a smile that was more motherly than Sasha's actual
mother had ever been. It's all right now, she said,
in a voice that was pure comfort. I'm sure you're
probably feeling frightened and overwhelmed, but you've reached the heavenly kingdom.

(14:49):
Loose yourself from the chains around your necko captive daughter
of Zion. Your home now Something about the woman's voice
and the way her hands felt broke through the just
wall around Sasha's heart. She found herself in the older
woman's arms. She sobbed, and then she felt the press
of bodies close against her. The mingled sense of lavender,
citrus and human beings filled her nose. It comforted Sasha

(15:13):
in a way she'd never quite known. The anxiety and
fear were gone now, but so was any sense of
motive inspiration. She let her sisters guide her to a
pillow on the ground. The room got very busy. Girls scattered.
They heated up water and prepared food, and generally bothered
themselves with every aspect of Sasha's comfort. Soon she had

(15:33):
coffee and buttered muffins and a heavy jug of gatorade.
A fan was moved into position where it could blow
more cool air onto her face. The older woman sat
down next to Sasha and started to speak. My name
is Helen, she said. I watch over the newcomers here,
and I helped them adjust to life in the heavenly Kingdom.
The most important thing for you to know is that
you are loved and wanted. Here. You'll have food and

(15:56):
shelter into purpose. Do you understand that, darling. Sasha tried
to smile, but realized her face was still stuck in
the same absent grin she'd worn since the greeting. After
a long pause, she managed to nod and speak, yes, er, sorry, Sasha.
My name is Sasha Marian. I'm from Virginia in the
American Federation, Sasha. Helen said, just Sasha, we have no

(16:19):
last names here and no nationalities beyond our allegiance to
God and his heavenly kingdom. Do you understand? Sasha nodded yes.
I mean, of course, I've I read every issue of
Revelator before coming here. I know that nations and states
are a worldly concept that only serves to separate us
from God Almighty, I memorize, Pastor. It's one thing to

(16:39):
read the truth, it's another to live it. Don't worry, child,
It'll take some time to unlearn your old habits. Helen
had cut her off, but she'd done it so gently
that Sasha didn't even take it as a rebuke. She
just nodded again, and then she remembered something. I need
to find a young man. His name is Alexander. He's
in a mechanized infantry unit. I think he's a corporal,
and I have a PI sure of him printed out

(17:00):
in my bag. If it will help, dear, Helen's voice
dropped an octave. I know this is hard to hear,
but the martyrs have important work to do. They fight
that we might build the heavenly Kingdom if the Lord
sees fit to deliver him safe from the fray. Sasha
really didn't like the way she said. If then we
will find him and reunite you two. Re Sasha gave

(17:22):
a nervous laugh. Oh no, we we've never met except
for online. He convinced me to come. I mean, I
didn't come for him, but I was really on the
fence until I met him. Helen's expression shifted. She looked
was that anguished or angry? But Sasha didn't detect any
anger in her voice when she replied, I know it's hard, love,
but you're going to need to wait to hear from Alexander.

(17:44):
For right now. It should be enough that you're here,
you're safe, You've done it. Do you know what this means.
It means I didn't get caught. Helen laughed. She had
a beautiful laugh. Sasha wanted to curl up and fall
asleep inside it. No. I mean well, yes, of course,
she said, But more than anything, it means that, for
all time, forever and ever, you're a person who made

(18:05):
the choice to be brave. You took a leap into
the dark and trusted that God's light would rise to
meet you. There were tears in her eyes, genuine tears
wrapped up in genuine wrinkles and laugh lines that had
never felt the touch of a surgical laser. That's the
most beautiful thing in the world, Helen said, I want
you to know that. Sasha started to cry too. Helen

(18:26):
embraced her, held her close, and Sasha was certain she'd
never been happier. Chapter ten, Manny, it couldn't have been
much past ten in the morning when they arrived at
the City of Wheels, Topaz and Skullfucker Mike had helped

(18:49):
him and Reggie into an open topped red buggy they
had apparently driven out to the ambush. The old vehicle
beat the hell out of walking, but it had not
been built with comfort in mind. Every pen jostle on
the road sent Payne shooting up from Mannie's fucked knee
to what felt like a small forest of tears. In
his shoulder muscles. Mike the driver kept the vehicle at
a conspicuously slow pace, but he heard all the same.

(19:12):
The ten minute drive was agony, but then Rolling Fuck
came into view and all thought of pain faded from
Mannie's mind. The main structure of the city had once
been a colossal bagger two eighty eight strip mining machine.
It looked like a sideways skyscraper sized spider made of
scaffolding and cranes. At the center of the vehicle was
a four story building on a massive set of treads.

(19:35):
Four spindley towers rose up out of that main structure
and in a giant half circle in the air around it.
A gantryway the length of a football field connected the
spindles to a mighty steel arm at the end of
the structure. It had once housed an enormous wheel bucket
mining apparatus, but that had been replaced by a queer
cube structure. It sat high in the air and gleamed

(19:56):
in a shade of black that made Mannie's stomach hurt.
Overwhelming motif of Rolling Funck was after market. The spindle
towers had originally looked like scaffolding and mainly existed to
offset the weight of that Titanic arm but they'd been
built on and added to with a series of tree
house looking contraptions. He saw people, hundreds of them, climbing
from door to door via a series of ladders, ropes,

(20:18):
and what looked like fines. Below the main body of
the city, a series of vehicles surrounded the vast rolling
building that made up the city's foundation. Many saw long
haul trucks, deuce and a half army transports, and at
least one old Abrams tank. Hundreds of sets of solar
panels glistened under the Texas sun. Good God, Reggie whispered, awe,

(20:39):
temporarily overwhelming his pain, but didn't realize any of the
road tribes with this lodge. There were easily two or
three thousand people visible in the sprawling camp. Mike glanced
back at Reggie, a somewhat stern look on his face.
This is not a tribe, it's a city, oh, said Reggie.
That's just how a lot of people back home with

(21:00):
her to I get it, Mike interrupted, But there are
actual indigenous tribes out on these roads, Comanche bands and
the Panhandle, roving up from New Mexico to Colorado. We've
got defensive and trade agreements with a few different groups
of Apache out west. The Navajo have the only stable
territory south of Mormon Land and north of Albuquerque. Mike
glanced back at the road long enough to steer around

(21:22):
a pothole and turn them in the direction of what
looked to be a greater station. Then he continued, anyway,
there are tribes out west, but we're a city. The
fact that we don't hold any land or control any
territory is important to most of the folks here. Think
of it as a kind of rebellion from people born
to a settler culture. Ah. Reggie nodded, that's absolutely fascinating.

(21:44):
I have so much I want to ask in good time, buddy,
Mike said, Let's get y'all settled in first. Many knew
that every foreign correspondent he'd never met would kill to
have the opportunity Reggie had just lucked into the road.
People were a popular topic in world media. He's a
pose that wasn't surprising. They all led visually spectacular lives.
Rolling fuck was just the grandest variation on a theme.

(22:07):
It was famous across the West for having the highest
proportion of post human citizens. Something like a third of
them were chromed enough to no longer fit into the
Homo sapiens category. Manny had never heard of them traveling
this close to Dallas before they were banned in all
of the Republic cities. People with military grade mods were uncontrollable.
That and cultural PTSD from the war made them pariahs

(22:29):
pretty much everywhere. The main structure of the city was
encircled by a ring of thirty ish large and heavily
customed r vs. A few dozen smaller vehicles, many of
them bearing sundry armaments, were scattered throughout the campground. The
only thing that resembled a checkpoint was a tidy, little
one room trailer with a bright welcome sign above it.
Mike steered them in to park in front of it.

(22:50):
The guard who approached them was a shirtless, dreadlocked person
with dusky brown skin and an automatic shotgun. Topas kissed them.
Then the guard greeted Manny and Reggie, Welcome to rolling fuck.
Rules are don't start, no ship, won't be no ship cool.
Manny nodded, so did the brit All right, they said, enjoy.
Manny was a little shocked by how loud it was.

(23:13):
Several of the camps appeared to have been built mainly
out of speakers. There were a handful of open air
bars outside the main structure of the city, heterogeneous mixes
of tiki torches, brightly colored silk shade structures, and scrap
metal bar tables. Despite the early hour, quite a few
people were drinking and dancing. Manny noted more people were
doing the former than the latter. Most people were either

(23:33):
naked or wearing a few pieces of light ornamental clothing.
Nearly everyone carried a firearm. He looked over to the
journalist and noticed that Reggie was blinking rapidly and working
his jaw. His arm was still dislocated, and it seemed
to pain him as much as Manny was pained by
his leg. Many sense of professional pride lit up again,
and he leaned forward to speak to their hosts. I

(23:54):
don't mean to seem ungrateful, he said, but is there
some way we could see a medic? We're pretty shredded
back here. Yeah, yeah, skullfucker Mike grunted topes, and I
got some meta ship in our trailer. We'll get you.
Just suck it up a bit longer. And oh. He
popped open the glove compartment. Inside it, Manny could see
a handgun, a battered can of Miller High Life, and
a large bottle of pills. Skullfucker Mike passed the bottle back.

(24:18):
Oxy printed him out myself like two weeks back. Probably
shouldn't take more than two or three unless you've got
a robust, fucking Narco suite in your brain. Meat. Manny
took two, Reggie took four. Mike guided the little Bucky
through the organized chaos of the encampment and towards a
large silver airstream parked about a dozen feet away from
what Manny guessed was the backside of Rolling Fuck. He

(24:40):
guessed that because someone had bolted a twenty foot tall
license plate to that end of the city. It said
honk please in glowing white letters. The Bucky slowed to
a stop, and skullfucker Mike hopped out. He put out
a hand as Manny and Reggie started to stand. Hold up, guys,
y'all are just covered in pieces of dead people. He
went up to the airstream and came out moments later

(25:01):
with one armful of towels and a large jug of
hot soapy water. Manny and Reggie washed their hands and faces,
pulled off their shirts, and scrubbed the blood from their chests.
The brit looked over at Topaz when it came time
to take off his pants. Um, he said. When she
made no motion to hide her face, she asked, would
you mind turning around? Oh? She seemed surprised. Her face

(25:24):
went a bit red, but not with embarrassment at their
impending nudity. I didn't even think about it. Do people
come from the world? She turned. Reggie and Manny scrubbed
most of the blood off their aching wounded bodies. Skullfucker
Mike brought them a pair of fluffy white robes, buddled
them up, and ushered them inside the air stream. It
was tame by comparison to the grand weird wheeled city

(25:45):
above them. The gleaming silver vehicle had been modified with
a rooftop greenhouse that was filled with pot plants and
some squat bush with red berries Manny had never seen before.
The back had been extended, and the stainless steel replaced
by an enormous bay window. As he entered, Manny was
hit by a wave of cold air and the strong
smell of marijuana. Roughly half the trailer's interior was taken

(26:06):
up by a huge popassan bed covered in velvet blankets
and dozens of furs. A circular table started right where
the bed ended, and the rest of the trailer was
a large glass walled combination bathroom bar. There did not
appear to be a kitchen. Manny's leg had started throbbing
as soon as he stood up to exit the buggy,
so he dropped into the first seat he could find,
a little padded bench by the table opposite the bed.

(26:28):
Reggie sat down on the other side of the table.
Manny noticed that he looked nervous, sweaty. The journalist's hand
shook just a little, his skin seemed pale. Topaz came
in after them, followed by skullfucker Mike. She hopped over
the table with a grace of a deer jumping a fence,
and in one smooth motion, spun round and settled into
a cross legged sit on the plush mattress. Skullfucker Mike

(26:51):
walked up to the bar and pulled down a large
white bottle with the words Rufies written across it and
black marker. He took two pint glasses, filled them three
quarters up with the white liquid, and then added a
splash of cranberry juice to each glass. Scully Topaz sounded reproachful.
Mike stiffened, then dropped his shoulders in contrition. He turned
towards them, Sorry, guys, my manners are burnt out. Would

(27:14):
either of you like a G teeny? Neither of them
answered for a long second. It was Reggie who finally responded,
ge teeny. Mike laughed, Yeah, that's what Topes and I
call g HB, and cranberry juice really hits the spot
after shooting something, I can make you, guys some human
sized portions. No thanks, Manny, and Reggie said at the

(27:35):
exact same time. The big man handed one glass to
Topaz and belted down the other himself. The woman took
two gulps to finish hers. She handed her cup to Mike,
and he walked back to the bar to fill both
glasses again. Reggie looked shocked. I'm fairly certain you just
ingested enough g HB to kill two normal humans. Topez shrugged.

(27:55):
Let's say we've had so far as only se or
so of a fatal dose for some on your side
is metabolism and mods. Skully's better at drugging people, though, skullfucker.
Mike finished pouring two more g tens and nodded, She's
about right. The brit drinks more, though I'd say he
could take a heavier dose than what what was your
name again, Manny? Manny gasped out, and would it be

(28:16):
too much to ask for like some medical care. We
are both in tremendous pain. Topaz and skullfucker. Mike looked ashamed. Jeez, Topaz,
side fucking hell, guys, We're so sorry, added Mike. Then
he grabbed a long knife from his belt and gouged
it deep into his wrist. Reggie Damn near jumped out
of his chair. Manny kept still. The pills had started

(28:37):
to help, but he was in too much pain to
react to anything with Gusto, It's all right, top has
assured them, and the kind of voice Manny remembered his
mom using on their cat when it was sick. I
know it looks weird, but he's helping, helping. Reggie gasped
a skullfucker. Mike positioned his open wound over a shot
glass jam the knife and slightly to the left and

(28:57):
let a thick strand of his syrupy red blood fill
the glass. He filled a second one in the same manner.
Then he pulled the knife free, set it on the
bar counter, and handed the shots to Manny and Reggie.
By the time he reached them, many noticed that the
big man's wounded arm had already scabbed over. Don't worry, schoolfucker,
Mike smiled. My blood's pretty sterile, and it's full of
good robots. They'll take care of you. Manny took the

(29:19):
shot right away. He knew it was working when he
felt pain from the wounds in his back again. That
meant Mike's blood had fixed whatever god awful thing had
happened to his knee well enough that it barely throbbed.
Merta Santa, the curse slipped out. Manny felt better, great,
in fact, but kind of queasy. At the same time,
he felt somehow in motion, almost as if his whole

(29:39):
body were shifting and burbling, like the contents of his gut.
The fixer glanced at his journalist and nodded to the
empty shot. It's a it's good. Reggie looked terrified. His
knuckles were white. The journalist gripped the edges of the
table like he was holding on for dear life. I
am fine, he gritted out, A damn it, s Allie

(30:00):
Topaz said, you've scared the poor kid with your damned
wizard blood Ship said skull fucker, Mike. Sorry, we were
trying real hard not to trip your head. Topaz nodded.
The gesture looked a little telegraphed, as if she were
out of practice with making it stock Sapiens like yourself
don't always do well around folks like me and Mike.
We moved too fast, or we've got too many weird

(30:21):
extra parts. I don't know. It's probably different for every
one of us, but your brain's definitely read monster when
you see us. Oh, Reggie croaked, You're not monsters. You've
both been very polite private toasts, Ah, said Mike. It's
got nothing to do with how nice we are, aren't.
It's how your brain reacts to the way we look
and move. It's because we're fucking monsters, Scully. She fixed

(30:43):
her eyes on the journalist. I don't mean that in
a bad sense, but like we've taken a big damn
step out of anything near to nature. Nothing is supposed
to be the way we are. It's normal for humans
to feel weird when they're around us for the first time.
Oh well, said Reggie. Maybe don't slice your wrists open
in front company in the future, or at least do
it behind a screen. Mike nodded as if that had

(31:04):
been a profound suggestion. Then he handed Topaz her second
g teeny and belted down his own. They were both
visibly intoxicated now. Topaz His eyes looked unfocused, and she
sprawled out backwards on the bed and cuddled absent mindedly
with one of the fur blankets on her bed. Mike
drifted off too, tapping his foot to a beat Manny
couldn't hear, and drumming his fingers on the bar top

(31:25):
to what looked like a completely different beat. The journalist
stared at his blood shot. It looked like it had
begun to clot. A thin rind had formed across the top.
Reggie was an obvious pain, but he was just as
obviously too squeamish to drink a stranger's blood. Mannie felt
a lot better, though it was weird how fast Mike's
blood had worked. He found himself worrying at the scab

(31:45):
for a gash he'd received on his forearm, only for
the scab to fall away and reveal clean new skin underneath.
An hour ago, it had been a bleeding wound. It
really works, man, he told Reggie. Just trust me, choke
it down. Reggie didn't look convent. Think about what a
story this will make for everyone back home, Manny said,
you escaped to kill her drone and drink the blood

(32:06):
of an immortal. You'll dine out on that for years.
Reggie still looked pale and rather disgusted, but he put
his fingers around the shot, closed his eyes, and then
gulped it down. Many heard him wretch once and then twice.
Tears beat it at the corners of the journalist's eye,
but then he swallowed and slumped back in his chair. Schoolfucker.
Mike was hard at work mixing up another batch of cocktails.

(32:27):
These ones seem to just be normal gin and tonics,
four of them. There's not anything fucking crazy about those drinks,
is there, Manny asked. Mike shrugged. Two shots of gin,
splash a tonic. Nothing you norms can't handle. Neither of
us asked for a drink. Manny said, yeah, Topez yawned
from her place stretched out on the bed. But he
almost died today. You should always have a drink after

(32:48):
almost dying. Listen to Topez, said Mike as he passed
out the drinks. She's almost died more than almost anyone
I know. Reggie came alive as his hands touched the drink.
He gulped it down faster than either of the post humans.
Manny took a couple of slight SIPs of his own.
It was heinously strong before he sat the glass down
and asked, polite as he could manage, So why are

(33:10):
we here and why were you there? That kind of
luck doesn't just happen? And now we're just all gonna
what hang out in your trailer getting lit? Would that
really be so bad? Asked Mike Scully. Topaz said in
a warning tone, he's right, and it'd be rude of
us to pretend we've got altruistic motives here. She looked
Manny in his eyes. It was a little unnerving because

(33:32):
her left eye was a notably different shade of brown
than her right one, and then there were her metal fangs.
Look kid, she said, we got a duty to help
strangers in immediate need. It's rule number one for all
the monsters here. But we were out there because we
were looking for someone like you, a fixer. He felt
dumb as soon as he asked to her credit. Topas

(33:52):
just smiled. A citizen of the Republic of Texas, one
who's not afraid of dangerous work, Mike added, and judging
by the day you've had, I'm I guess you've a
certain familiarity with danger. What about me, Reggie asked. Mike
put a hand on the journalist's shoulder. Many guessed it
was meant as a calming gesture, but the Brits still
flinched at the contact. Don't worry, Guy said Mike. We'll

(34:15):
get you back to Austin or wherever's got an airport
that'll fly at home. Your friends the only one who's
help we need. What help do you need? Manny asked.
The best person to take that question is up in
the city. Topaz said, you guys up for a bit
of a trick. Many stood halfway to test the strength
of his knee. It felt good as good as new.
In fact, his back and shoulders, which had been peppered

(34:37):
with shrapnel, just itched. Now he didn't even feel particularly tired.
On the other side of the table, Reggie looked to
be doing well too. He worked his formerly dislocated shoulder
in its socket and gave Manny the thumbs up. Apparently so,
he said, Rolling Fuck had not been built by the
mines or for the comfort of mortal men. That much

(34:58):
was obvious. The second elevator doors closed, the narrow metal
box launched up with the force of a rocket. It
climbed six stories in the space of about a second.
By the time it stopped and the door slid open
with a pleasant ding, Manny and Reggie were both on
the edge of vomiting. Ah Ship Topes Mike said, you
forgot to drop the speed back down to normal. Topaz

(35:19):
looked genuinely distraught. Fuck me with a splintery dick, she cursed.
I'm sorry, guys. This is the nearest elevator to our trailer.
It doesn't normally take humans. The city's got an elevator
under each spindle, Mike explained. There's also a big lift
under the main roller that's what we call the big
building on treads in the middle, and another behind the
rear roller. Humans tend to stick to the rollers. It

(35:41):
gets weird up in the spindles. Weird, Reggie asked, weird skullfucker.
Mike leaned down and hissed the word into the journalist's ear.
He winked at the brit in a way that somehow
suggested both coitus and violence. Topaz punched Mike's shoulder and annoyance.
She gestured for Manny and Reggie to follow her down
the narrow metal hallway. We live life on a different

(36:03):
scale than the rest of you, she said. We see
more colors, hear more sounds. Most of us have at
least a thousand times as many nerve endings, and no
fear of mortality to draw the line between pleasure and pain.
The kind of environments we enjoy can be intense to
unmodified humans. Right as she said humans, the group emerged
from the hallway into a wide, open gantry way. There

(36:25):
were no there was no ceiling above them now, and
a huge rectangular metal frame loomed over them, connected to
the other spindles of the vehicle city via thick metal
tension wire. The surface of the spindles had been covered
in colorful bits of metal and wood, welded and nailed
into dozens of crude structures that stippled up the iron
frames like technicolor mushrooms. Everything was covered in lights and

(36:45):
screens and buzzed with the hum of a thousand speakers.
Reggie's pace slowed, the journalist's jaw was slack. He mouthed
what must have been a curse, and then asked their guides.
Is it okay if I record skullfucker might grinned and
clap him on the shoulder. Of course, it's okay. If
you ask nice, I might even let you film me
in one of the fondel boats. What the hell is

(37:06):
a Reggie started to ask, but then the first fondel
boat came into view. At least many assumed that's what
it was. A very large lifeboat hung off the gantry
as if it was the deck of a cruise ship.
The interior of the boat was all soft cushions, pillows, blankets,
and about two dozen writhing naked people. Some of them
were surely having sex, but it was hard to tell

(37:27):
exactly what was going on. Manny saw several tales curled
around limbs or jerking spasmodically in the air. His eyes
were drawn to one mechanical limb that looked like a
large metal chicken's foot. He watched it kick repeatedly into
the chest of a young woman. She cried with joy
at every impact. The whole mass of coiled post humanity
gleamed wet in the morning light, coated with a mixture

(37:49):
of blood and what looked like motor oil. Christ Reggie whispered.
Manny was at a loss for words. He felt a
bit nauseous. He never considered himself a prude, but something
about what was going on in the Fondel boat just
seemed wrong in the physics sense, not the moral sense.
Probably best not to watch, said Topaz. It can make

(38:09):
humans sick er. Yeah, Reggie coughed. Is that a common sight?
Mike shrugged. It's not uncommon. We try to keep stuff
like that on the outside spindles away from the rollers
as a courtesy. They walked on, passed the boat and
through another covered section of the gantry way, surrounded by
a half dozen little buildings that looked like shops. Many
saw fruits and vegetables hanging in one, an assortment of

(38:31):
labeled decks and other electronic googaws on tables. In another.
It had the look of a Middle Eastern bazaar, but
with no shopkeepers present, y'all went food. Topaz stopped and
gestured at the shop filled with produce. Manny held up
his left hand, which had his cash ship, and planted
in it. I've got Republic of Texas currency and some
Californian crypto, if you guys take either. Mike and Topaz

(38:52):
both laughed, and then Mike grabbed an apple and tossed
it Manny's way. Many caught the fruit, although it was
a near thing. We don't use money, not within the city, skullfucker,
Mike explained. We do sell a lot of what we
grow for foreign money's but that's mostly used to book
bands or buy stuff we can't make. Nothing costs anything here,
not to us and not to our guests. Y'all are guests,

(39:15):
Topaz clarified. Manny hadn't really had time to think about
his stomach in the hour since their explosion he wake
up call. They'd been on the run and endanger the
whole time, but now that he had a moment to think,
he felt a mild gnawing sensation in his gut. The
journalist must have been in the same way, because he
immediately set to piling fruit bags of nuts and a
paper sack of that grown jerky into his arms. Manny

(39:37):
went for a bag of shell pistachios himself, and the
two munch to Skullfucker. Mike and Topaz led them across
the spindles gantry and down towards the main roller. The
main roller had once held the control center and engine
room for the gargantuan strip mining vehicle and its conversion
to rolling fuck. Two new levels built from a half
dozen sorely abused airstream trailers had been added to the
top four of the spindles, met on the roller's roof,

(40:00):
which also hosted a lively cafe. There were around a
dozen patrons drinking at the circular center bar, and perhaps
a dozen lounging on cushions around low slung Moroccan style tables.
Most of the customers looked human too Manny's eye. They
wore an assortment of colorful, loose fitting garments, sarongs, long skirts,
and caffea's. Most of it looked handmade, although Manny was

(40:21):
hardly an expert on such things. As they walked past
the bar, Mike scooped up four pint glasses of dark
brown lagger He kept them in one hand. As he
opened a metal hatch on the rooftop, Manny could see
a ladder that led down into semi darkness. Mike nodded
towards the ladder. Down you go. Beer At the bottom.
Manny and Reggie descended into a luxurious conference room. It

(40:42):
was candlelit, dim enough to seem intimate, but bright enough
for human navigation. A single redwood table dominated the space.
It was twelve feet in diameter and low to the ground,
like all the tables he'd seen in the cafe. Cushions
and other colorful, lumpy, soft things surrounded it. One man
and one woman were already seated, oss legged around the table.
Manny was shocked to see they were both quite old.

(41:05):
The man was heavy set, with a lot of curly
black hair piled atop his head and around his craggy
lined face. Startlingly bright blue eyes stood out over the
flickering candle light. He wore an old fashioned suit with
a necktie and everything. It was the kind of suit
a banker might have worn fifty years ago, if the
old movies mann He'd watched were close too accurate. He
looked to be in his sixties, while The woman next

(41:27):
to him seemed considerably older. Her face was so lined
and her skin so thin she almost looked fake, like
some kind of animatronic creation. No one looked that old anymore.
The Austin Autonomous Region wasn't wealthy, but basic juven treatments
were cheap and heavily subsidized. Even the poor could afford
to combat the worst side effects of aging. Things were
different in the Republic of Texas proper, but none of

(41:49):
the poor there lived long enough to look like this woman.
She wore high waisted purple yoga pants and a very
tight T shirt with a faded print of a five
fingered bart Simpson flipping the bird. Her hair was completely
white and bound behind her in a tight ponytail. She
smiled at Manny when he looked at her. The old
woman's teeth were as white as her hair. Hello there,
young men, she said, in a voice that evoked the

(42:11):
platonic ideal of a grandma. Hello, Topaz, Mike schofucker, Mike,
ma'am scofucker, Mike corrected her. As he came down the ladder.
He handed Manny and Topaz each a beer, and then
found a cushion large and plush enough for his bulk
and dropped down. Mannie took his cue and found a seat.
Reggie grabbed the cushion next to him. Topaz leaned against
the back wall, but stood as she introduced them. This

(42:33):
is Mannie Sanchez, he's a fixer from the Austin region.
And this is Reggie Sullivan. He works for the BBC.
Manny Reggie, this is Nanna Yazzie, she's our eldest. And
the less old fart is Donnie Ferris. He's a guest
and a brit too. Wait the Donald Ferris, Reggie asked,
the guy who made Visions of Blood. Yes, said the
old man. Did you actually watch it or have you

(42:55):
just seen a handful of tin second clips in your
media feed over the ears? Both actually, Reggie replied m
Donald grunted. Many had heard of Visions of Blood back
in school. It was a documentary released a year before
the Second American Civil War caught fire. It followed two
Navajo Special Forces veterans as they organized a massive direct

(43:16):
action campaign that started in Santa Fe but spread throughout
the Southwest. His text book had called it one of
the major seeds of the Old u S's collapse. Reggie
was clearly star struck by Donald. Mannie was more curious
about the old woman. No matter where he turned his head,
he couldn't quite seem to escape her eyes. She had
this strange way of staring at him without really staring.

(43:38):
It made Mannie feel somehow naked and vaguely comforted all
at the same time. Nana meant grandma, which made sense,
but he wasn't sure what the rest of her title meant.
Exactly Are you in charge, then, he asked her. In response,
every one but Reggie chuckled. No one is in charge here,
said Nana Yazi. That will become increasingly clear the longer

(43:59):
you stay. I'm the eldest, which means exactly what it
sounds like. I'm old as dirt, and I'm older than
any of the other dirt around here too. She eyed
Donald Ferris and continued, When I give advice or have
an opinion, some people listen. This is not a state,
and I am not a head of state, but sometimes
I play one for the folks outside, for in policy,
diplomatic relations, that sort of thing, mainly because no one

(44:21):
else can be arst by the way. She added, welcome
to the city of wheels or she frowned a little
rolling fuck. I argued rather strenuously against that name, but
I was outvoted. I like the name, said skullfucker Mike.
It's fun. Sidy shouldn't take themselves too seriously. That's when
the problems start. So why are we here, Manny asked.

(44:44):
I mean, I'm grateful, and all we're grateful, he nodded
to Reggie. But I know y'all aren't just being nice.
Mike said, you had dangerous work. Skullfucker Mike. Skullfucker Mike
insisted again. Nanny Azi ignored him and replied to Manny,
we do have a job for you, MIHO are not
required to take it, though if you say no, we'll
still return you when your journalist friend to Austin, and

(45:05):
if you do help us, you'll be compensated. So what
is it you need? The old woman snapped her fingers.
A projection screen hummed to life on the wall of
the room that faced Mannie and Reggie. It displayed three faces,
two women and one man. They all looked young, although
that meant very little. One woman was white and kept
her hair in a bright purple mohawk. The other was

(45:26):
as bald as skullfucker Mike, with round cheeks, green scowling eyes,
and skin a little darker than Manny's. The young man
was very pale. He appeared to be of Chinese descent,
and his exposed skin was covered in scarified symbols from
a language Mannie didn't recognize. From left to right, Marigold, Fulton, two,
Ley Black Elk, and Rick Hartford. They're all citizens and

(45:47):
they act as our negotiators when the city is in
the southwest. Two days ago, they arrived in Plaino to
negotiate a trade deal with the Republic of Texas. We
have quite a lot of processed coffee and we were
hoping to trade it for She trailed off a bit
and her cheeks reddened. Many thought she looked embarrassed for snacks. Snacks,
Reggie asked, yes, she nodded. The Frido La Corporation is,

(46:10):
or at least was still headquartered in Plaino. The junk
food they produce is harder to find out west. We
mostly wanted cheeto's. Topez licked her lips. For whatever reason,
the imitations we print out here just don't cut it.
We barter everywhere we go Nana Yazzi continued, and since
post humans aren't welcome in most populated areas, our negotiators

(46:31):
are all pretty close to baseline. They traveled unarmed into Plaino.
The city fell six hours after they arrived. Reggie grunted
two days ago. People were telling me the Kingdom was
on its last legs. Yes, Nana Yazzi said, it would
appear they are not quite the paper tiger everyone expected.
We're still scrambling through good data, but it's safe to

(46:51):
say they've pilfered the majority of the Republic's heavy equipment
and converted as much as half their standing army. At
the same time Plano fell, dozens of Christian militias across
Texas launched fresh offensives. Galveston is still holding, but that
could change at any moment. Houston blew their levies and
flooded half the city in order to save the other half.
But that also means the Kingdom can move on to

(47:12):
Austin without worrying about their flank. They pushed the stf
entirely out of Siada de Muerta, so there's nothing left
between them and your home. Donald Ferris spoke up grave
and Gravelly, we know that the offensives started with dozens
of autonomous car bombings at checkpoints and fortifications. We don't
know how they managed it. What's important now, Nana Yazzi continued,

(47:34):
is that three of our people have been captured. Manny
fought down a spike of anger. With all due respect, Nana,
he said, in a deliberately neutral tone, they just conquered
the city I was born in. I probably lost a
dozen friends in these god fascists cre only what two
hours away from Austin ninety minutes, Donald said, they seem
to be holding position now, digesting their meal, but they'll

(47:55):
be on the march soon. I expect the vaunted Austin
defense forces will be able to hold them. Offer oh,
a good four or five days, maybe a week. Unless
he glanced over to Nani Yazzi, she nodded in agreement.
Unless asked Manny, unless Nana agreed, Unless our militia comes
to their aid. We're not in the habit of fighting

(48:16):
other people's battles. But we're also not in the habit
of letting regressives win. I asked for a vote. Once
we learned our people had been captured, our fighters, most
of them agreed to stop the Heavenly Kingdom's advance and
give your people time to coordinate a proper defense. But
there's a catch, ah, Manny was starting to get it.
If you step in, they'll kill your people. Nani Yazzi nodded, yes,

(48:38):
and none of our fighters are willing to risk that. Well,
I'm not sure what you want from me, Manny said,
I'm a talker, not a fighter. A talker is exactly
what we need, Immanuel Nana Yazzi assured him. Many winced
in irritation at the use of his full name, Manny.
He insisted in the same tone, skullfucker might get used
a little earlier as you say, what kind of talking

(49:00):
do you want me to do? He asked. I'm sure
you've all got better negotiators than me, perhaps, but you've
got something none of our people possess. You're a citizen
of the Republic, and the Heavenly Kingdom has just issued
a general amnesty for all citizens willing to repent and
declare allegiance. You know how the people in this region talk.
You won't arouse suspicion if you enter. So you want

(49:21):
me to find your people and then what break them? Out.
I can barely shoot straight. I don't think I'm the
man to execute a prison break. They've got plenty of
fighter son. Donald Ferris growled, But if Topaz and Schofucker
Mike haven't keyed you in on this, the chrome don't
exactly good at blending. He's right, Nana smiled sadly. We'll
pair you with someone who could do the violence, but

(49:42):
we'll need you to get them close enough to find
our people. In effect an escape, You'll need to help
our person maintain their cover. Many felt a powerful anger
boil up inside his belly. So basically, you and your
militia are holding my homeland hostage. And if I don't
risk my coulo to save your negotiators, Austin dies, Miho,
it's nothing as sinister as that our people want to fight.

(50:04):
But but Donald picked up, we're all family here, and
family comes before corrupt, fractious foreign militious and equally corrupt
fractious foreign cities. Old Toad, I'd say it's a good
deal for you. What was your plan before this meeting,
Naniyazi asked. Manny opened his mouth to respond, but realized
he didn't have a clear answer. He hadn't exactly had

(50:26):
much time to puzzle that out, and any time he'd tried,
he thought about Oscar, his missing stringer, and that made
him want to panic. He's dead or worse, and there's
nothing you can do about it. What you can do
is by a fucking plane ticket and beg the Germans
to take you in as a refugee. That seemed like
a good plan, or at least the best of a
bunch of shitty options. But a scornful voice rose up

(50:47):
from the dark recesses of his semi withered conscience. What
about his wife? Are you just going to leave her
broken widowed? You have to at least give her something.
I'm flying to Germany, he said, or maybe France, wherever
I can get the cheapest ticket, either in Austin in
or he'll passo. How much money do you have saved up, son,
Donald Ferris asked. They won't issue a long term visa
unless you've got at least sixty grand Californian. Manny had

(51:10):
a little more than half that less once he paid
off Oscar's wife widow. Fuck man, you sent him out there.
The uncertainty and despair must have been obvious on his face.
Both Donald Ferris and Nana Yazzi gave him the sort
of looks normally reserved for wounded kittens. I may be
able to help, the old brit said, I do have
some connections in Germany, people who might sponsor your visa

(51:32):
if you help. The thought of a visa, the mental
image of seeing one stamped in his otherwise worthless passport,
was intoxicating Mann. He'd never traveled outside of Texas, but
he had kept at all times an active passport. It
had been the physical anchor for his wildest dreams, and
now Donald Ferris was telling him he could make something
as magical as a visa real Manny almost swooned. Do

(51:56):
I have to decide now? He asked, careful to keep
his tone as calm as he could manage, of course not.
Nana Yazzi said, that would be terribly unfair. You should
get some sleep and then a proper breakfast. There's certainly
enough time for that, and you look exhausted he was.
Now that the excitement of the morning had faded, he
felt gripped by a bone deep weariness that was not

(52:16):
at all helped by the dim lighting and comfortable cushions
around him. Reggie should have been even more tired but
with the jet lag, but the journalist looked alert, jittery
despite the bags under his eyes. If it's possible, Reggie said,
and you have one, I could really use a high
speed data connection. My deck's been spotty since the shooting started.
I've got a lot to upload to the company's servers,
and I should probably check in with my editors, let

(52:37):
them know I'm not dead, et cetera, et cetera. That
won't be a problem. She stood and her knees popped
audibly with the movement. Oh, she grunted, and then continued,
Topaz and Mike schrofucker. Mike, we'll show you to a nice,
relatively sound proof room. They'll help you get onto our
data tower too. Reggie, thank you. She looked at Manny
again and fixed him with her sad grandmother's smile. We'll

(52:59):
give it was much time to decide as we can.
We expect the Kingdom to hold for a few days,
but we didn't expect them to launch an attack like this.
So take that with a grain of salt. Um Texan
Nana Mann, he said, I take everything with salt. Chapter eleven,

(53:23):
Roland Roland loved fighting men in powered armor. The increased
firepower and durability gave them an outside chance, which made
it fun, and the sheer expense of modern suits made
it feel a little like wailing on rich kids with
fancy toys. But Roland did not like fighting normal humans.
He'd hoped the infantry coming up behind the armored troopers
would run like hell once he popped their vanguard, but

(53:46):
instead they'd insisted on a fight and started shooting at
him with very large guns. One explosive munition had hit
nine yards ahead of his position, and the other had
impacted close enough to pepper Roland's torso and face with shrapnel.
So regretfully he arched the enemy. The martyrs shot back.
They hit him a few times, but Roland paid their
bullets as much mind as he would a mild rein.

(54:07):
He drew close enough for visual contact. These martyrs were
a motley site. Several of them fought shirtless, with white
crosses daubed across their chests. Most of them wore body armor,
very little of it. Modern Roland saw a lot of
old pre war plate carriers and surplus police vests. That
crap wouldn't stop military grade rifle rounds, although since the
only weapon in Roland's hand was a big guess wrench,

(54:29):
how these men were armored hardly mattered. They were mostly
armed with old M fours and a smattering of newer
assault rifles, probably pilfered from the Republic of Texas. Fifty men,
six technicals, two drone carriers. Rowland hit their skirmishing line
before the teams on their recoilest rifles. His first target
could reload. Roland's wrench broke jaws and orbital bones. It

(54:50):
cracked pelviss and shattered thighs. He dispatched the rifle teams
and then danced through the on rushing mob of militia
like some sort of compound fracture dispensing ballerina. And as
he fought, Roland felt the familiar sunlight warmth of serotonin
flood his synapses. He remembered a little of how the
army had explained the battle drugs now flowing through his
brain a guarantee of sustained aggression. The longer he fought,

(55:13):
the harder would be for him to stop fighting and
to avoid killing. Roland felt his self control begin to
fade as he knocked out his dozenth martyr. He started
swinging harder, his blows increasingly connected with clavicles instead of coxyxes,
and jaws instead of elbows. His hind brain warned him.
As the kill likelihoods jumped from for to six percent

(55:34):
up to twenty thirty forty percent, he felt his conscience
fade beneath the uphoric red haze of narcotic splendor. Before
he knew it, the whole platoon of martyrs was either
on the ground or fleeing for the relative safety of
their technicals. Roland laughed a madman's laughed, tickled that they
thought a bunch of old Toyota trucks with machine guns
in the beds might slow him down. He put a

(55:55):
fist through the engine block of one and made a
burst of fifty caliber fire from the other. As he
pivoted and launched his wrench through the driver's side window.
The improvised missile connected with the face of the driver,
who spun his wheel hard to the left. The truck
flipped forward onto its cabin. Something about the wet crunch
had maid sounded so familiar. Oh God, oh dear sweet Jayess, Please, sir.

(56:16):
The National Guardsman was nineteen years old. Randal Wallace was
his name. Roland knew that because his hind brain had
sucked in every piece of publicly available data on the
boy once it had scanned his face. It had done
that with all the occupants of the humvey and the
four seconds before Roland had blown it on its side.
Wallace was just the only member of the crew unlucky
enough to survive. Please, Sir, Roland stepped towards the broken,

(56:38):
bloody boy. He came back to himself, a bit disoriented,
but none the worse for wear. His hind brain and
a lifetime of combat memories had kept his body fighting
in his mind's absence. Now wrenchless, Rowland used his bare
hands to tear open doors and break faces. The gunners
on their remaining technicals tried to fire back, but their
maneuverability was limited by the rubble choked streets and their

(56:59):
own being infantry. One minute after first contact, the martyr
contingent had been reduced to a dozen shell shocked soldiers
piled hastily on to the tops of the retreating drone carriers.
Roland hopped onto the last of the technicals. He disabled
it by pulling the driver out through the front windshield
and using the man's body to beat the gunner into unconsciousness.
Roland tore the vehicle's twenty millimeter cannon free from its

(57:22):
swivel mount and sided in on the fleeing troops. His
synapses promised him more chemical rewards if only he'd pulled
the trigger, but something in Roland's forebrains stopped him. Under
the joyous miasma of the battle drugs, his conscience reasserted itself.
He lowered his weapon and watched as his enemies beat
hell for leather in the opposite direction. His hands shook
and he felt the first symptoms of withdrawal. As his

(57:44):
heart rate dropped and the adrenaline drips stopped its flow,
Roland closed his eyes. He breathed in and out, and
centered himself. The crash came. Now that the fighting was done,
Roland had time to process the since day that he'd
pulled from his enemies. He knew what the driver he'd
ripped out of the windshield had eaten for breakfast. He
knew which of the militia he'd crippled were fathers. He

(58:05):
knew which had wives or at least girlfriends. He could
smell traces of football leather on some of their hands.
One man he'd wrenched had smelled of rosin a violinist.
Roland couldn't fight a man without learning much more about
him than any killer should know about their victims. That
knowledge crashed down on him in a hail storm of guilt.
Roland dropped the cannon into the truck's bed. He hopped down,

(58:26):
pulled Sardar's wrench free from the wreck of the Second Technical,
and headed back towards Biggsby and his squad with a
heavy heart. Nadine and Asime both looked pretty seriously wounded.
Biggsby was helping to carry them both back to the
a PC while Will handled Overwatch with his grenade launcher.
Roland caught up with them and fell into step. Biggsby
looked over at him and grunted, Are you gonna try

(58:47):
to take my nipple now? Roland shrugged. He wasn't in
the mood. His brain was in the dark, ugly place
that always went after a bloody fight, when the raw
data about all the men he'd killed or battered lingered
in his brain like a fart in the back of
a hum v. They reached the a PC. Sardar gasped
when he saw them, Pedro vomited. Roland was confused until

(59:07):
he realized Biggsby and Will had also started to stare.
Roland looked down at himself and saw that he looked
like a literal dead man walking. He'd been shot forty
seven times by his hindbrain's best count, and peppered with shrapnel.
On top of that, he had ribbed showing through holes
blasted in his biceps, in his belly, and the bone
on his left thigh was completely exposed. It looks worse

(59:28):
than it is, Roland said, it looks like you should
be dead about five times over, Sardar replied. Roland looked
Sardar up and down. His hindbrain did the math eleven times.
If I were you, Jesus, he handed Sarda the wrench,
now dented and bloodstained. A large clump of hair and
scalp was still stuck to the heel jaw. The mechanic

(59:48):
took his tool with one hesitant hand. He stared at
the gore on it until Biggsby started to yell again,
Oi Fucco's In case you've forgotten, there's an army breathing
up our asses. Sar, you get to drive man Sartar
nod at his head. Then let's get the wounded in
the cab and power the funk out of here. Will
stay on watch. Will grunted and jerked his head at Roland.

(01:00:09):
This funk erota cover us. He just took out half
a company on is lonesome. You trust him to watch
your six Biggsby, asked Roland. Only half heard them. He
stared off into the distance, worked his jaw and clenched
his left fist so hard his finger nails drew blood.
He was lost in his head, scanning scent memories and
analyzing the men he'd just beaten. He was drawn again

(01:00:29):
and again to the memory of one man in particular.
He'd worn a tattered U S Army issue vest and
an M sixteen that posed as much of a threat
to Rowland as a drunken hornet. He'd had the scent
of a woman on him. He wasn't alone in that,
but the rich wave of oxytocin that had poured off
him was intense and real in his memory. The man's
face kept twisting and morphing into the face of Randall Wallace.

(01:00:50):
Roland started to cry. Bigsby and Sardar loaded Ryan, Nadine,
and Asime into the transport. Will just stared at him,
his gaze locked on Roland's tears, as if each one
with a lockneest monster. Roland didn't care. His hind brain
kept up its glitchy feet of data, a mix of
information on the men he'd just killed and the men
he'd killed years ago. Once the wounded were loaded up,

(01:01:11):
everyone filed into the Madis APC. Will popped the top
hatch and sat Gunner with his grenade launcher. Inside the APC,
Bigsby and Pedro did their best version of first aid
on their wounded companions. There wasn't much for them to do,
though everyone in the squad had fairly advanced healing suites.
Roland trudged into the APEC and took his seat. No
one made eye contact with him. Sardar kicked it into gear,

(01:01:33):
and off they went. Waco had always been one of
the worst cities in Texas. In the late eighteen hundreds,
that had been a refuge for former Confederate loyalists. In
the nineteen hundreds, it had developed a reputation as a
haven for KuPS and religious extremists caught between the economic
powerhouse of Dallas and the relative cultural mecca of Austin.

(01:01:54):
Waco was a second rate college town at best, and
at worst, a meth filled rest stop between EXAs is
good cities. The revolution had changed that. After the Lake
would blast, Dallas had bled sixty of its population. Most
of those people had fled to Austin since constant flooding
had rendered much of Houston uninhabitable, but half a million

(01:02:15):
of them ish had swelled Waco into something resembling a
worthwhile place to exist. The city had thrived in the
post revolutionary years. It was nominally controlled by the Austin
regional government, and so it had been spared the worst
of the Republic of Texas's corruption. But now it looked
like Waco would be the next city eaten by the
expanding Heavenly Kingdom. Roland could smell the stink of fear

(01:02:37):
in the air when they were still a half dozen
miles out from the city limits. Once they hit the
city proper, their convoy halted at a military checkpoint. Power
armored Austin Republican guardsmen opened the side hatch of the
Madis a PC and inspected the squad. Biggsby spoke for them,
beamed over some credentials from the SDF, and they were
waved in. They stopped at a fueling depot with the

(01:02:59):
rest of the d F column, and Roland hopped out
of the a PC to stretch his legs and roll
another blunt. He picked a cherry apple wrap he dipped
in a vat of extra strength hydrocodone syrup earlier that morning.
As he rolled it tight and sealed the scene with
his saliva, he watched the STF unload hundreds of wounded
warriors from half tracks and a PC's in the beds
of flatbed trucks. Many of the walking men and women

(01:03:21):
looked wounded too. Most of the vehicles were damaged. Roland
lit the blunt and stared off towards Dallas. It was
still early in the morning, and the sky was streaked
with red and orange. On the horizon, black smoke rose
to meet the sunrise. Roland was struck with a powerful
sense of dejah vou. This wasn't the first time he'd
watched a great city burn in the light of the

(01:03:42):
rising sun. According to his hind brain, it was around
the thirtieth time he recalled a few of those cities, Denver, Baltimore,
d C. Richmond, but the particulars of each calamity were
lost to his memory. He wondered, not for the first time,
if his broken brain might be a blessing boy it was, Sardar.
He approached from the rear and stepped up to Roland's

(01:04:03):
right side. Rowland offered the mechanic his blunt, now half smoked,
and Sardar accepted it. He drew in a deep lungful
of medicated smoke, held it in his lungs for three
long seconds, and then exhaled with only a small fit
of coughing. Its tastes like fucking cough. Sarah man yep.
Roland agreed, there's enough opiates on that to kill a
small cat. That's a weird thing to say. Yep. Roland agreed.

(01:04:29):
Sardar took a second hit and then passed the blunt
back to Roland. They stood in companionable silence for a
minute and watched the distant smoke mingle with the morning light.
Sardar spoke first, Jim's on his way out here. He's
flying in with three more squads. Austin's approved emergency funding
to stabilize the front. Apparently a chunk of that's coming
our way. Grats, said Rowland. Then he asked, what's the

(01:04:52):
money mean, do you? Sardar shrugged, Cascadia probably been saving
for a couple of years now, fifty grand by resid
and see another hundred grand or so to set me
up for the first year while I find work. Roland
finished another deep poll on the blunt and offered it
to start are. The other man declined with a polite
wave of his hand. Now thanks. Roland puffed again and asked, so,

(01:05:14):
what's the Pacific Northwest got that you want the future?
Sardar said, I mean, that's what it always meant in
my head. I grew up in El Paso, got trained
up by that army blooded in their first little civil war,
the Albuquerque Secession, right, Sartar nodded. Didn't see much action then,
but I got Jim's attention. He made me an offer

(01:05:34):
when my term of service expired. The idea was I'd
be with him for five years and retire with enough
money to make a new start out west. I always
dreamed of a life in Portland. It seems nice there,
it is, Roland agreed, or at least I got nice memories.
I met a girl out there when I was younger.
I remember watching the fog rolland with her he ran

(01:05:55):
a hand over the stubble on his head. It was
weird to him that he'd been given so much control
over his body lea functions, and yet he still found
himself making nervous gestures. For some reason, talking about her
made him want to cover his face. The impulse was
wired into him deeper than the carbon fiber that laced
his bones. That uh sounds tough, Sardar said. He managed

(01:06:15):
to look concerned without showing pity. I can't imagine having
all these memories floating around with no through line to
connect them together. It must hurt. Roland shrugged. What hurts
most is knowing that it should hurt more. I don't
remember enough to give the pain its proper due. They
were quiet for a bit. Roland finished the blunt and

(01:06:36):
put it out on his right and next finger, Sardar
pulled a bronze flask out from his jacket pocket, took
a belt, and then offered it to Roland. It was
Lafroy whiskey, even if he hadn't been chrome to the gills.
Roland would have recognized that smell from three feet away.
He took a gulp from the flask and passed it back.
Sardar broke the silence again. Look, maybe I'm reading things wrong,

(01:06:58):
but we've got some tent set up near the APC.
You up for a fuck? Roland looked the man up
and down again. Sardar was a good looking guy, short,
broad and muscular, with a neat trimmed beard and curly
black hair. Yeah, all right, it was pretty good sex.
Nothing to blow Roland's mind, but the release provided a

(01:07:19):
quantum of chill to calm the pangs of memory. Afterwards,
Sardar fell asleep, nuzzled into his shoulder. Roland didn't particularly
feel like cuddling, but he since the other man needed
the human contact, so he laid there with him for
a couple of hours, rolled and smoked two more blunts,
and tried not to think about the lives. He didn't
died that morning. A little afternoon, Biggsby came by and

(01:07:40):
knocked on the tent flap. Sarre Roland, lfs here, clean
up your fox stink and meet us by the a PC.
They did. Five minutes later, the whole squad had assembled
around the maddis. Ryan looked more or less recovered from
his injuries, as Am also seemed good as new. Nadine
was still pretty bandaged and her eyes were litted and
un focused from blood loss and opiates. Will had brewed

(01:08:03):
up a large French press of coffee. He busied himself
pouring measures of it out into himp foam cups. Roland
took one and drained it in a single mighty gulp.
It was proper post human strength coffee. The caffeine rush
mingled with the opiates and THHC already flooding his synapses,
and brought him to a lovely, half lucid state of
quasi awareness. Did you guys fuck? Pedro finally asked, after

(01:08:25):
about a minute of staring at Roland and Tardar and
asking the same question with his eyes. Yes. Bigsby and
Nadine both replied. Sardar laughed at that, so did Roland.
For one beautiful moment he felt nice, a kind of
nice he was pretty sure he hadn't felt in a
long time. And then came a familiar pattern of bootsteps
tickling Roland's ears. Jim Roland turned just as Jim walked

(01:08:49):
into view. His legs were covered by a pair of
armored red leather chaps. His groin was wrapped up in
a thick kevlar thong, but his penis and ass were
otherwise unguarded. He wore a double oulder holster with a
pair of bone handled wheel guns under his arms. The
snake tattoos on Jim's chest and shoulders danced to a
melody Roland, eventually recognized as La Kukaracha. Your ink looks

(01:09:11):
good today, boss, said Bigsby. Ass Lequer said, Sardar takes
one to no one. I don't lick ass. Sarda replied haughtily.
I eat it like a starving hyena. More laughter and
another fleeting moment of community that was broken when Jim
addressed the squad. All right, so several bunks have been
hummed here. This heavenly Kingdom's got at least ten thousand

(01:09:32):
effectives in theater with Almah artillery drones, the works. A
new employer, Austin, has about three thousand fighters here in Waco,
plus now the fifteen a U lot I flew in
with Ajax and Florin. They have prepping their squads now.
Biggsby spat Ajax fights about as well as a drunk
dog in a burlap sack. Will replied, you just saying

(01:09:54):
that because he choked you out in the Blood Dume
last year. Biggsby responded with a middle finger, ahem mhemmed,
plenty of time for Dick, measuring later, time enough for
the rest of you. At least this city doesn't have
a ruler long enough for my dick. He paused for
a laugh. No one obliged. Jim rolled his eyes, ass holes.
So look, we're in a bad position with funk All

(01:10:15):
for reinforcements coming in. Austin might be able to scrape
up a couple of Italians if they suddenly clear out
the Houston front, but that don't look likely. Enemy has
another ten thousand men there. Fuck Sartar was the only
one to actually say it, but everyone else in the
group mouthed the word or some equivalent curse. How is
that even possible? As Amee's voice was still a little

(01:10:37):
slurred from the painkillers, but her eyes were focused now.
Jim shrubbed hard to say exactly masked affections from the
Republic at Texas. Intel suspects the U c S probably
sent in some spec ops, guys, I don't know, some
sort of skulduggerous bullshit went down. The how of it
ain't really our problem today, but now we've got to
deal with the reality. The snakes on Jim's torso stopped writhing.

(01:11:01):
He locked eyes with Roland, and Roland felt compelled to
meet his old friend's gaze. Can we count on your help?
Jim asked, fuck no, Roland said, I've killed enough naive
young men today. I don't aim to kill anymore. To
his surprise, Jim nodded an acceptance. Understandable, this kind of
fighting was a violation of our contract. I regret that, Rowland.

(01:11:22):
If I'd known this was gonna be a meat grind,
I wouldn't have interrupted your retirement. Roland wasn't sure he
believed that, but he kept his mouth shut as Jim continued,
I'd like to propose a renegotiation of our contract in
a lot of the changing situation on the ground. I'm
not blowing anything else up for you. That's fine. Jim
put his hands out in the sort of placating gesture

(01:11:44):
one would use on an angry dog. I don't need
you killing us. I need your sneakiness. You can still
take faces right. Roland's memories of his time in the
army were a patchy as his memories of everything else.
He didn't remember much about how they used him, but
he knew that some of the wet where they'd installed
in him allowed him to modify his skin and bone
structure to full facial recognition scanners, thumb print readers, and

(01:12:07):
of course human beings. Yes, he said, but Jim cut
him off. You don't need to kill anyone. The face
you'll need is already dead. And what do you want
me to do with this man's face that isn't more murder?
Jim's lips curled up into a grin. The expression sent
shivers arcing down rolland spine. He felt like he'd seen

(01:12:27):
that grin before, never preceding good things. Rolling fuck is
nearby and in the city of Wheels, a six hundred
or so real scary bastards. I have it on good
authority that they'd be happy to throw down on our side.
But it turns out some of the negotiators were captured
back at the start to all this ship. No one
in the city will risk fighting until they pulled out safely.

(01:12:50):
Roland raised an eyebrow. So a rescue mission, then that's right,
Jim grinned in a way Roland didn't quite trust you'll
be saving vives. Roland's gut twisted into knots. The shades
of a thousand Memories spoke up and warned him not
to trust Jim at his word, But those shades also
drove him to take Jim up on the offer. He

(01:13:11):
wanted his memories back. Jim smiled that hackle raising smile again.
You don't have to agree and come to rolland Fuck
with me. We'll talk things over with the eildas. You
can do some of the fancy space drugs, and then
you can make your decision. All right, rolland Side, but
only because you said fancy space drugs. They flew to

(01:13:32):
Rolling Fuck in Jim's hellicraft. It had been military issue originally,
but the interior had been redone to Jim's tastes. That
mostly meant a lot of the lure and a full
wet bar. There were four beers on tap just to
the right of a double barreled thirty five millimeter grenade
launcher mounted beside the door. Roland drank for the duration
of the ten minute flight, you know, Jim said, Topez

(01:13:53):
lives then now been with the city. Awhile Topaz, Roland asked.
Something shuddered in his gut. He felt his hippocampus flicker
with the dim light of recognition. He saw that face again,
the woman from so many of his dreams and a
few of his shattered memories. So that was her name,
It felt right now that he knew it again. Do
you remember her at all, Roland, Jim asked, his voice

(01:14:15):
uncharacteristically tender. Roland nodded and swirled the beer in his
hands to buy some time. I remember snatches of her,
he said, I remember loving her. I remember enough that
it hurts sometimes. Mostly it hurts that I don't remember
enough to be as sad as I ought to be.
There was a spark of real sorrow in Jim's eyes.

(01:14:36):
The other man's hand twitched in a way that made
Roland think he might have been about to reach out
to him, but Jim kept his hand to himself. I'm
not sure how much I should say, he said, I'm sorry.
There was something in Jim's face when he said that.
It resembled regret or guilt, but it passed quickly, and
nothing else was said during the flight. They landed on

(01:14:57):
one of the top spires of Rolling Fuck, on a
landing path that doubled as a nude bar. He and
Jim grabbed another round of drinks before they proceeded down
through the infinite party that was the City of Wheels
and on to the top of the main roller. They
grabbed another round of drinks there and sat at the
bar table while Jim waited for the word to go down.
It was late afternoon by this point, and the evening

(01:15:17):
had started to close in. The normal boiling Texas heat
was cut by a cool breeze. White clouds rolled in
around them. Roland's hindbrain told him there was at best
a twelve percent chance of rain, but the clouds were
still welcome. He and Jim drank in silence for a
few minutes until the other man tapped his shoulder and said,
they are yforus. They stood a bit unsteadily and headed

(01:15:38):
towards the ladder down into the main roller. They reached
the ladder just as two other people came up it,
a man and a woman. The man's face triggered a
flurry of memory fragments fighting back to back in the
choking streets of Baltimore, drinking heavily on the edge of
a canyon in the Arizona Desert, charging a riot line
with pipes and hammers in their hands. A name bubbled
up from inside the memories. Mike, he shouted before he

(01:16:01):
really thought about it. Hey, brother, schufucker, Mike Froze. Roland
was already half way to a hug when he realized
Mike wasn't feeling it. And then he caught his first
good look at the woman coming up the ladder behind him.
She had short, cropped teal hair, damascene fangs, and eyes
so loud he could almost hear her thoughts. Topaz Rook.

(01:16:22):
She started to say his name, and then her voice
caught He heard the ghost of tears beneath it, and
then she finished. Roland, Yes, he said, not sure of
what else to say. Do you remember me? No, he admitted.
Part of him wanted to lie, but he couldn't. The
broken scraps that remained of his love for her made

(01:16:43):
it impossible. So we gave the honest answer, and he
watched her die a little inside. Topez nodded. She closed
her eyes for a second. Bit down on her bottom lip,
and then she put a quick hand on Mike's shoulder
before she walked away up one of the gantries and
into the chaos night of rolling Fuck. Roland looked to Mike,
I'm sorry, skullfucker. Mike smiled sadly back, I know, buddy,

(01:17:07):
and then he left too. Roland felt confusion in a
distant hurt. He had a feeling that he should have
been crying, but for some reason he couldn't, and so
he didn't. Instead, he took a fistful of oxyconton and
stumbled down the ladder following Jim rolling Fox. Conference room
was sumptuous, elegant, and surprisingly professional. Two old people sat

(01:17:28):
at the far end of the conference table. Roland had
a vague memory tingle of having met the man before,
long ago, but neither of their faces brought a name
to his mind. Jim introduced them, but their names fled
his head a few seconds later. In fact, the first
minute or so of conversation flowed around him in an
indistinct haze that may have had something to do with
a soft ball sized mass of OxyContin he'd eaten as

(01:17:51):
he'd climbed down the ladder with Jim. Roland had assumed
the drugs would help him focus through the boredom. Apparently
he'd miscalculated. O K, so the old lady said, with
a hint of finality, that's the situation we're in. Are
you willing to help us? In response, Roland blacked out,
just for a few seconds. He was reawokened by the

(01:18:11):
thud of his head hitting the conference room table. Fuck
that's good oxy. He wished he could remember where he'd
gotten it. Oh dear, said the lady. He's fun, Jim sighed,
but we've probably gone a need to start over. The
lady brought him some coffee and reintroduced herself as Nana Yazzi.
Thanks to the coffee and Roland's clearing head, her name stuck.

(01:18:33):
This time. It was hard not to marvel at her age,
and harder still to stop his hindbrain from calculating how
much longer till her human heart gave out. Roland smelled
cancer on the old man. Not serious cancer, nothing basic
medicine couldn't handle, but all the same, the odor that
wafted off him brought Roland a sort of primal discomfort.
Or maybe it was the old man's eyes that made

(01:18:54):
his guts warble. It was hard to say. There was
something disconcerting in the way he looked at Roland Rowland,
Jim shouted. Roland shook himself out of the haze and
refocused on Nana Yazzi. Sorry, he grunted. It's fine, she said,
and set into her spiel again. She showed him pictures
of her captured friends, explained the dire situation in North

(01:19:15):
Texas and the doom that marched towards Waco and Austin.
It was a sad story, but not one that compelled
Roland to action. Other than Topaz and Skullfucker Mike, the
citizens of Rolling Fuk were total strangers to him. Austin
was just another little ailing republic in a continent full
of them. I'm sorry for your people, he told her.
And I'm sorry for Austin, but I really don't see

(01:19:35):
how any of this is miight am business. Jim took
those words as his cue. Tullian Topaz are close, said Jim.
His voice was low, his tone smooth. The silk La Sisters,
from what I hear, Marigold vouched for Topaz and skullfuk
A Mike when they adjoined the city. She's all funked
up over this from what I hear, he added, so

(01:19:57):
let her do some about it. Then Roland muttered, she's
gotten a chrome to choke a river ship. The city's
got enough monster people to burn the eastern seaboard. What
do you need me? Because the modas aren't stupid, Jim said,
They are scanning for chrome, for bile, mods for everything
but the ship you've got, because no one left alive
as packing the ship you've got. Roland grunted again. His

(01:20:18):
nostrils flared. There was something strange about the words Jim
had chosen. No one left alive? Had there been others?
He knew his mods had come courtesy of the old
U S Defense Department, but he didn't remember which unit
he'd been a part of, or what he'd done. There
was a bit of memory, hazy and fragmented, that popped
into his dreams from time to time. He was stuck
inside a long, cool metal pod. The cold black of

(01:20:40):
space unfolded around him. Roland felt warm bodies to his
left and right, smelled the comforting sense of men he trusted.
Red lights blinked above his field of vision. Something tugged
at his belly. There was a powerful feeling of inertia.
Roland closed his eyes, leaned forward, pinched the bridge of
his nose, and groaned just a little bit. When he
came back up, Nana Ya, he stared at him in confusion.

(01:21:01):
Jim looked, perhaps worried. It was hard to tell with
that guy. What's gonna happen if I don't do it?
He asked, Nana Yazzi, to you nothing, Roland shook his head.
Not to me. What are you guys gonna do if
I don't help? Oh, she frowned. I suppose we'll have
to mount an assault, send in a small team, four
or six commandos and try to pull them out. It'll

(01:21:24):
be bloody, Jim said. The old man frowned at that.
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something,
but the lady put her hand on his and gave
him a significant look. That's true, she said, it will
be bloody. Roland felt a twinge of anger, but he
couldn't blame Nana Yazzi for trying to manipulate him. The
lives of her friends were on the line. Roland knew himself, though,

(01:21:46):
and he knew that missions like this always went wrong.
If he took this job, Roland knew he'd take more lives.
You'll save lives by being there, Jim insisted, smiling that
fucking smile. Roland was sure that smile had tricked him
into dumb, violent things in the past. You're the only
one who can handle this with a minimum of death.

(01:22:07):
Roland didn't believe that, and at the same time he
had to admit it was technically true. He just didn't
trust himself, or reality or Jim. And yet I'll do it,
he said. I'm sure I'll regret agreeing to do it,
but whatever, I'll do it. Jim looked satisfied with himself.
Nanayazi looked relieved. The old man looked somehow angry. Most

(01:22:28):
of Roland's reason for agreeing to help came down to Topaz.
He hated to admit that, even to himself, but it
was true. The thought of her in pain twisted something
in the center of his heart. He wasn't used to
pain there, and his tolerance was pretty low. This is
so dumb, he told himself. You couldn't even remember her
name this morning. He and Jim and the old woman
shook hands on the deal. Then they let him loosen

(01:22:50):
their city to imbibe and fornicate and test the limits
of his wet wear. We have things to plan, she said. Hey,
I've written a novel. It's called After the Revolution. You
can find it as a podcast under after the Revolution,
and you can find it at dtr book dot com
as a free e pub if you like it. I
am crowdfunding the sequel so that I can keep making

(01:23:12):
my books free. That will be it after the Revolution,
the sequel on go fund me. That's after the Revolution,
the Sequel on go fund me.
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Robert Evans

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