A Day for Damnation

TEN

MORNING CAME too soon.

I put the body on automatic and got out of its way. I caught up with it again in the jeep; the noise woke me up. We were rolling across the cracked and oily tarmac of Oakland International Airport. There was a fully armed Banshee-6 waiting for us at the far end of the runway. Its engines were already screaming.

Duke ran the jeep right up to the foot of the ramp. Holding my ears, I followed him tip the steps at a run. We climbed into the jet-chopper and the door slammed itself shut behind us. The pilot didn't even wait till we were seated; she reached up over her head, released a double-handled lever, and we were rolling. I tossed my bag at the back and scrambled for the seat opposite Duke. The lady punched us up into the air so fast I didn't even have time o finish fastening my safety harness.

She was speaking to her microphone: ". . . Heading three five two. Enterprise, you can launch your birds now. We'll pick 'em up over San Pablo Bay."

I knew that voice. Lizard Tirelli! I should have recognized her by that takeoff. I leaned across to Duke. "Remember when Ted and I left Alpha Bravo?" He nodded. I jerked a thumb forward. "That's the same pilot."

She put the ship on autopilot, then swiveled her seat around to face us. She was as pretty as I remembered. I wished she weren't wearing that helmet. I liked looking at redheads. "I'm Colonel Tirelli," she said. "You're Captain Anderson?" Duke nodded. "And Lieutenant McCarthy, of course."

I nodded. "Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel."

She ignored it. She looked to Duke. "I know you're probably surprised at the suddenness of your transfers. I specifically asked for the two of you to be reassigned to me."

"Eh?" That was Duke.

Colonel Tirelli explained, "I like your statistics. You're effective. The Rocky Mountain District is controllable today because of the way you martialed your resources last year."

"That job isn't even begun," said Duke. I could hear the stiffness in his voice. I didn't know if the Lizard could.

"I know what shape that territory's in. I read your reports. But somebody else is going to have to take it over. You're needed here."

Duke looked unhappy, but he didn't say what he was thinking. He didn't have to. Apparently, the Lizard could read minds as well as she could fly. She said quietly "I know, Captain-but this is one of Uncle Ira's jobs."

"Oh," said Duke. The subject was closed.

I'd met Colonel Ira Wallachstein-the day before he died. I'd brought down the worm that killed him. I hadn't exactly liked "Uncle Ira," but he'd been the Godfather of the Special Forces, so I respected his memory.

The Lizard let herself drop into a friendlier tone. "You'll be acting as spotters for this mission. You've been briefed?"

Duke said, "We got the mission book last night."

"Did you read it?"

Both Duke and I nodded.

"Good. I'm sorry you didn't have more time with it. Be glad you got it at all. Communications are lousy-and they're going to stay that way until we secure the rest of our ground stations. God knows when we'll do that." She looked strained and frustrated, but not defeated. She continued without hesitation: "Okay, we've got what looks like a major infestation in the lumber regions of Northern California. We're going to take them out-but we've got some anomalies. Second- and third-stage nesting-"

"Third stage?" Duke said.

Lizard looked annoyed at the interruption, but she nodded grimly.

Duke and I exchanged a glance. It was that bad? We'd seen skyball pictures of second-stage nests: hexagonal dome clusters, six around one. Any child with a compass could draw the floor plan. But third stage? I couldn't imagine

Lizard said, "You'll know when you see it. Captain, you take the left bubble; McCarthy, you take the right. You see anything red, fire a beacon. The cleanup crew will be thirty seconds behind us. They'll be dropping the appropriate detergents. Also short-life radioactive particles, taconite dust, poison vectors, selective Xagents, and degradable biocides. We are not using fire. We will use targeted explosives on medium- to large-scale dome clusters. These will be delivered by the second wave of ships, following sixty seconds after the first. Any questions?"

Duke said, "How far north?"

"An hour and a half "

Duke looked surprised. "That close?"

"It's worse than that. We also have renegade activity in the area."

"Near a heavy infestation?" Duke raised an eyebrow.

Lizard nodded. "It happens."

Duke scratched his head. "If you say so, but I find it awfully hard to believe."

"Most people do," said Lizard. "It started last year. We started finding Tribes in Oregon. Tribes with a capital T. There're pockets of survivors all over. We should have expected that some of them would bounce back at an odd angle. People do whatever they think they have to do to survive. But a couple of these groups were setting up their own governments.

"This one in particular," Lizard said, "had nearly three hundred members. They declared themselves an independent entity. They said the United States was now an `invalid agreement."' There was scorn in her voice. "That's what they call a government, `an agreement of intention.' They said the intention of the United States was no longer valid, so it was their purpose to create the agreement for a new one."

"Did they say what the intention was?" Duke asked.

"It became obvious after a while," Lizard replied.

"It sounds like they were succeeding at something," I said. "At least to the degree that three hundred of them agreed with it. That's a lot of agreement." I was interested in spite of myself.

Lizard shrugged. "Yeah-well, that crap always sounds good to the simple-minded; but I don't buy that jargon. My uniform is still United States green-that's who signs my paycheck. I haven't seen any better offers."

"So you had trouble, right?"

"Both times." Lizard scowled. She rubbed her nose distastefully. "We asked them to move out of the area. For their own protection. They refused. We told them they didn't have any choice. They said that they refused to recognize the authority of the United States. Listen-" Lizard interrupted herself. "I don't care what people want to believe in. My parents were Shamists-Spiritual Harmony Among Mankind-so I've got `space' to accept just about anything. If people want to paint themselves blue and mate with dwarves and elephants, it's all the same to me. And I tell you truly, you wouldn't believe some of the things these Tribes were up to. The problem was they had 'liberated'-read `helped themselves'-to the United States property. `In the name of the people' they said. Naturally, they were `the people' they were referring to."

"What kind of property?"

"Military, of course. It was not a pretty operation. Somehow they'd gotten ahold of some very sophisticated ordnance. We had to call in a major air strike to take them out. I took in the first cleanup crews."

Duke looked startled. "There was no alternative?"

"They had ground-to-air missiles! And tanks! And they were moving toward a nuclear silo!"

Right. No further explanation was necessary.

"I'd heard the Tribes were gaining strength," I said, "I hadn't realized how bad it was getting. It must have been a difficult situation."

"You should have been there," said Lizard. "They'd taught their children how to use machine guns. Have you ever seen the effect on a soldier when he realizes that his enemy is a twelve-year-old girl? It's devastating."

Duke looked startled by that. He looked like he wanted to change the subject. He asked quickly, "Uh, why do they base themselves near Chtorran infestations-?"

Lizard said, "We think it's possible they're using the worms for cover. "

"You mean they've found a way to coexist?" I couldn't help myself, I had to ask.

Duke snorted at me. "There's only one way to coexist with a worm: from the inside."

Lizard said, "It's very simple. The infested areas are no-man's land, effectively beyond the jurisdiction of the United States government-at least for now, and probably for a long time to come. The Tribes know that if they come in out of the cold, the minute they step across the barriers and enter a Safe City they're accepting not only the protection, but the authority, of the United States government as well. And that means giving up their `independence,"' she finished.

"But how do they defend themselves from the worms?" I asked.

"That's one of the things we'd like to find out," she said.

"Didn't you interrogate the survivors?" Duke looked puzzled.

"There weren't any." She said it like a door slamming.

Duke looked at her with new respect. She met his gaze coldly. It was obvious she didn't like talking about the subject; it made her hard. Duke dropped his eyes and studied the floor thoughtfully. He knew what she was going through. He'd been through it himself. But I knew he didn't know how to say it.

Colonel Tirelli spoke first. She said, "We don't think it's the Tribes. We think it's the worms. There's something going on, some kind of shift in behavior. We're beginning to see a lower proportion of attacks on human beings. Some adaptation may be taking place.

"One of the theories is that now that a lot more of the Chtorran plant life has established itself, the worms might prefer to feed on their own ecology rather than ours-so humans might not be number one on the menu any more. But so far that's just speculation. I wouldn't want to test it personally-"

The radio beeped suddenly and she swiveled forward to answer it. "This is Tirelli."

"Banshee-6, we have you on visual. We'll fall in behind like good little children."

Lizard looked off to her left. "I see you." Then she frowned. "How many of you ducklings got into the air?" she asked.

"The whole wing, Colonel."

"How come I see only six?"

"The second wave is going up now. We'll pick them up north of Santa Rosa."

"Whose good idea was that?"

"Cap'n Caswell's, Colonel."

"I got it. All right, you boys ready to go to work?"

"We're all bright and shiny, Colonel Ma'am, ready to spread death and destruction from here to Klamath."

"Just the target area today, please."

"Roger. Out. "

I crossed to Duke's side and leaned down to look out the spotter bubble just behind his seat. I could see six dark gunships just dropping into line behind us. "Hey! Those are Scorpions!"

"Aye-yep," said the Lizard. "They sure are." She swung around to face us again. "You have a question about that?"

"Yes, I do." I looked to Duke, then back to Lizard. "I thought we had to give them up. It was part of the Moscow Treaties. We had to sink our gunships."

"We did. Every last one of them."

"But, how-?" I looked out the bubble again. Those were definitely Scorpions.

Lizard looked very pleased with herself. "Oh, we sank 'em all right. But first we sealed them in acrylic. It kept them nice and dry until we needed them. We started pulling them up last year." She glanced out her side window. "They sure look good, don't they?" She was grinning.

I couldn't deny it. They were big, they were black, and they were mean. With their red spotlights on, they would be terrifying. "All right," said Lizard. "Let me give you the background. This is deep background. Uncredited. But one hundred percent reliable. Denver is getting too vulnerable. The military is looking at moving the federal government again."

"To where-?" I blurted. "Almost everwhere is vulnerable now." "Hawaii isn't," Lizard said. "So far, there's been no sign of infestation on any of the islands, and we expect it.to stay that way. To guarantee it, there won't even be any research labs allowed. Not even on the artificial islands or in the sea-domes."

Duke shook his head. "It'll never sell. It'll look like a retreat."

Lizard nodded. "If it happens, it will be a retreat."

"Hawaii's too small," said Duke. "Who gets left behind?"

"Hawaii's only Phase One. Phase Two is Australia and New Zealand. Neither of those land masses has been infested either. The negotiations are already underway. They'll actually be glad to have us-especially if we bring as much of our industrial capacity as we can crate and ship."

She reached down into the cooler next to her seat and pulled out a Coke. She tossed one to Duke and one to me, then took one for herself "But the immediate goal right now is total centralization within eighteen months. The President will be announcing that before the end of the month. We're setting up a chain of Safe Cities, each one surrounded by a kilometer-wide defensive border. We think we can make each city self-sustaining within a year. We'll be using a lot of robot labor, of course. Each city can then function as a base for military operations in its surrounding district. "

I said, "It sounds like you're abandoning the land."

She shook her head. "No. We're saving the people first. We can't fight a war without a front line."

Duke said, "So what does all this have to do with California?"

"Highway 101," Lizard replied. "It's the backbone of the west coast. We need to keep it clear. Seattle and Oakland will both be Safe Cities. We're hoping San Francisco. Probably Portland too, but that decision isn't final yet. The question is whether it's defensible. We also want to put some fortresses on the route. We're opening up a major campaign here. We need to keep our access to the sea. The Hawaii and Australia options both depend on it. Got it?"

Duke nodded. So did I.

"Good." The radio beeped then and Colonel Tirelli swiveled back to her controls. We were over Geyserville, and we'd picked up the second wing of choppers.

I dropped into the right side bubble and watched the ground stream past. We were flying low, not quite treetop level, but close enough to give me a good case of the queasies anyway. Lizard dropped us even lower, and now we began following the rolling texture of the countryside, up one hill and down the next. California had a landscape like a rumpled blanket.

The hillsides should have been green with April foliage, but they weren't. The trees and shrubs passing below us looked yellowish and sickly. There were patches of pink and red mottling the ground. "I know, it looks like lichen," said Lizard, "but it's not. It's another form of the sea sludge. Needless to say, its byproducts aren't friendly to local life-forms. The redwoods are especially vulnerable. The stuff grows fastest in puddles. Those bright patches are the places that were slowest to dry after the February storms. We've still got a lot of rain due. If it's bad, this whole area could be red by the end of summer. Denver is already testing specific biocides, but it doesn't look good. "

"Thanks," I said. "Any more good news?"

"Yeah," said Lizard. "It gets worse ahead. Stand by. We're about to hit Clear Lake." She thumbed her radio to life. "All right, ducklings, this is Banshee-6. We're going in. Watch for beacons."

Suddenly we were over water. I could look straight down into it. The clear surface was as bright as the sky, a dazzling silver mirror. I could see the dark shadow of the Banshee rippling below us. Not too far behind were the shadows of the Scorpions. They were bigger and more ominous. They roared behind us like flying dragons. From the ground, they must have been terrifying.

We crossed the north shore of the lake and suddenly I was staring down at an animated nightmare. The brightness of it hurt my eyes-they started watering. I blinked in confusion. I couldn't tell what I was looking at. It was all a burning wash of color. I'd never seen anything so garish and bright. I fumbled my goggles over my eyes and dialed them down.

It didn't help.

All the colors were red-all different shades of red, a kaleidoscope of crimson and vermilion blossoms, scarlet trees and royal fireworks. The eye could not assimilate the information. The brain could not make sense of it. All the possible intensities of red were painted here-all splashed across a pink and almost fleshy-looking landscape. There was umber, orange, ochre and magenta-the colors seemed to hover without shape.

My vision blurred then and I saw the Earth as a gigantic living creature. Its bright pink skin was broken open, scored and lacerated. I looked down into deep and bloody eruptions. Here were open sores and festering wounds. Streams of warm dark blood came bubbling to the surface, ran and puddled into hollows.

I lifted my goggles, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. Beneath the chopper was a dazzling vision of the floor of Hell. Bright orange bushes leapt upward like flames. Tall sequoias, smothered in red, looked like plumes of crimson smoke. Purple streamers hung from trees like shabby cobwebs. Below were large black spidery growths-they crouched in shadowy places. Red creepers stretched across the ground; they looked like grabbing claws.

The ground was pink.

It looked like it was tufted. It looked like it was made of cotton candy. The hills were sugary dunes. Welcome to wonderlandor insanity. The ground was patched with pallid streaks of blue-or erupting with yellow globular clusters-the colors delineated alien shapes. I couldn't tell what I was looking at. The hills were etched with purple threads-and white ones too; they looked embroidered; they were a crazy quilt of blinding hues.

The trees-what was left of them-were stark black spires, pointing accusingly up from the ground. They looked as if they had been burned raw. I saw the ruins of buildings-a scattering of hollow shells, crumbling beneath their coats of crimson ivy.

We'd crossed into a whole new world-a world from which the color green had been entirely banished. And everything else that lived in that green world too.

I looked and I knew. I didn't have to worry about renegade Tribes any more. I didn't have to worry about humanity at all.

I was staring into time. Beyond the bubble was a vision of the future of the Earth. How many years away? It didn't matter. We were not a part of it. Not even bones. There would be no place for humanity. Not here.

The roar of the Banshee's engines shifted then-we were slowing. We'd reached the target area.