Armageddon Run

Chapter Eleven

Joshua’s ears detected their coming long before he saw them.

He was seated at the base of the hill, near the highway, his body in the lotus position, his hands formed into a pyramid in his lap, worshiping.

The mare was in the sagebrush behind him.

The faint roar of powerful engines carried on the wind. Dozens of them, traveling north on U.S. Highway 85.

Joshua slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at the blue sky overhead.

The bright sun was well up; it was midmorning on the day after his arrival at the highway. The Doktor hadn’t kept him waiting long! To be expected, he told himself. The Cheyenne Citadel was only 170 miles or so south of Catlow. No more than a four- or five-hour drive, once the Doktor was aware Alpha Triad had taken the town.

The noise of the approaching vehicles was growing rapidly louder.

Joshua rose and walked to the mare. He unfastened her bridle and saddle and dropped them to the dry ground. “Thanks for the ride, girl,” he said to her. “Now get out of here! I don’t want you to be hurt.” He pointed her to the north and slapped her on the rump. “Get going!” he shouted.

“Go!”

With a toss of her tail, the mare bolted.

Joshua watched her go for a moment, then stepped to the road, to the very middle of U.S. Highway 85, and sat down, assuming the lotus position again, his hands folded in his lap. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, praying.

The breeze picked up.

Joshua struggled to compose his tingling nerves; he felt an almost overwhelming impulse to flee before it was too late. He steadied his surging emotions, focusing instead on his consciousness of the Spirit, requesting guidance and strength to endure the ordeal ahead.

The ground seemed to vibrate as the vehicles drew nearer. A raucous tumult ruptured the tranquil Wyoming countryside.

Joshua knew a vehicle was bearing down on him at great speed, but he refused to budge. He had to demonstrate his resolve, to show them he wasn’t afraid, to earn their respect.

The sound of the first approaching vehicle abruptly altered, its racing engine slowing, as simultaneously there arose a grinding screech, the result of brakes being prematurely applied at great speed.

The clamor grew in volume, reaching deafening proportions.

For an instant, Joshua thought he was going to be run over.

The screeching suddenly ceased.

There was a ringing in Joshua’s ears. He knew the first vehicle had stopped mere feet from his position.

Footsteps padded on the pavement.

Joshua heard someone grunt, and a moment later hot breath fell on his face. He opened his eyes, expecting to see a soldier.

He was wrong.

The thing leaning over him was one of the Doktor’s genetic mutations.

It must have stood close to seven feet in height and weighed several hundred pounds. Its body was covered with a fine coat of brown hair; its only clothing was a brown leather loincloth. The most striking feature about the creature was its apelike face: it had a sloping forehead, protruding, bushy brows, deep-set, beady brown eyes, prominent cheeks, and full pink lips. It took a step backward in alarm, hefting the sledgehammer held in its massive right fist.

“Hello,” Joshua greeted it, smiling.

The mutant cocked its head from side to side, evidently extremely perplexed by the man in the center of the road.

“Thank you for not running me down,” Joshua said. There was a jeep parked not five feet away, its motor still running.

The thing leaned down toward Joshua. “What are you doing here?” it inquired in a throaty, gruff tone.

“I would like to see the Doktor,” Joshua stated.

The creature straightened, exposing its formidable fangs. “The Doktor?” it hissed in surprise.

“Yes,” Joshua verified. He noticed a thin metallic collar encircling the creature’s squat neck, and recognized it as one of the collars the Doktor utilized to keep his creations in line. Each collar contained sophisticated transistorized electronic circuitry, enabling the Doktor to monitor the whereabouts of his creatures and, if necessary, compel compliance with his edicts by means of a jolting electric shock.

Other vehicles, jeeps and trucks and even a halftrack, were slowing to a halt behind the first jeep. Figures detached themselves from the convoy and came forward to ascertain the cause for the delay.

Joshua found himself surrounded by a veritable menagerie: dozens upon dozens of the Doktor’s genetically engineered offspring. All were bipedal, but beyond that basic trait all resemblances ended. Some were quite tall, others were very short. Some were on the reptilian side, while others were decidedly mammalian. All of them were freakish aberrations, monstrous living monuments to their demented creator.

The creatures, whispering and muttering, suddenly grew silent and parted, opening an avenue between the vehicles and the man in the road.

Joshua saw two beings walking toward him.

On the left was another genetic deviate, this one a female. She was oddly beautiful, despite her serpentine features, her narrow lavender eyes, and her yellow skin, complimented by her flowing oily black hair. She was wearing fatigues.

On the right strode an imposing man with a commanding presence, and without being told Joshua knew the man’s identity.

This was the Doktor.

The madman was as tall as the ape-thing with the sledgehammer. A dark mane of shaggy hair enhanced the impression of height. His eyes were black pools and seemed to radiate an inner light. The man was imbued with a unique aura of raw power. He wore a black shirt and pants, and black boots. His broad shoulders and back were covered by a flowing black cloak or cape. He raked Joshua with his probing eyes. “What have we here?” he demanded, his voice resonant and booming.

“He said he wants to see you,” the ape-thing said.

The Doktor’s eyebrows narrowed. “Oh, he does, does he?” He grinned, revealing curiously thin, pointed teeth. “Now, why would he want to see me, Thor?”

“Don’t know, Doktor,” Thor hastily replied.

“Send a patrol out,” the Doktor directed. “Insure he is alone.”

“I am alone,” Joshua stated.

The Doktor squatted in front of Joshua and examined him from head to toe. “Now, why should I believe you?”

“Because I do not lie,” Joshua declared.

“Did you hear him?” The Doktor glanced at the woman. “He claims he doesn’t lie! Why, he must be perfect then! What an honor for us, to be in the presence of perfection!”

The woman and several of the other creatures snickered or chuckled.

“There hasn’t been a perfect man on this planet for thousands of years,” the Doktor said, and Joshua had the feeling the Doktor was toying with him. “Now let me see! What was his name again?”

“Jesus,” Joshua stated.

“Ahh, yes! The noble carpenter. Are you telling me, boy, you are as perfect as Jesus? Or, perhaps, you are Jesus, risen from the dead? Again?”

The Doktor laughed, a bitter, brittle sound. “Who are you, boy?”

“I am Joshua.”

The Doktor swept to his feet, glaring down at Joshua. “You! Here?” He appeared to be startled by the news. “Why?” He scanned the nearby fields.

“What is it, Doktor?” the woman anxiously inquired, lisping.

“I don’t know, Clarissa,” the Doktor replied. He unexpectedly reached down, grabbed the front of Joshua’s shirt, and hauled him to his feet.

“This brat is from the Family!”

“The Family!” Clarissa repeated, and there were murmurs among the creatures.

Joshua noticed some soldiers had joined the group.

“Talk to me, boy!” the Doktor snapped. “I know who you are. We haven’t spied on your accursed Family for years for nothing! Talk to me!”

“That’s why I’m here,” Joshua said.

“What?” The Doktor released Joshua, studying him.

“I came to talk with you,” Joshua explained.

The Doktor looked at Thor. “What are you waiting for? I told you to send out a patrol!”

Thor cringed and hurried away.

“It isn’t necessary,” Joshua said. “I’m alone.”

“So you say.” The Doktor began stroking his pointed chin with his right hand. “Isn’t this an interesting development, Clarissa? First, I receive a report Lynx is in Catlow. And now, enroute to smash that furry lowlife into the dust, we stumble across Joshua here, one of the Family, an Empath if my memory serves. How very interesting!”

“I came alone to talk with you,” Joshua assured him.

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” the Doktor said arrogantly.

“Peace.”

The Doktor’s eyes seemed to blaze fire. “Do you take me for a buffoon, boy? Would you have me believe you traveled all this distance merely to converse with me concerning peace?”

“Yes.”

The Doktor fell silent, his features inscrutable.

No one else moved or spoke.

“I believe you, Joshua,” the Doktor said at last. “Very well. You shall be granted your opportunity to present your case.” He draped his right arm over Joshua’s slim shoulders and led him away from the others. When they were 20 feet from Clarissa and the rest, he stopped and crossed his arms, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his thin mouth. “Proceed.”

“Right here?” Joshua objected. “I was hoping we could relax, break bread together, and get to know one another.”

“Regrettably, Joshua, I am pressed for time. I must complete my business in Catlow promptly and travel to Denver to oversee the construction of my new headquarters.” The Doktor paused. “I assume you’re aware of what Lynx did in Cheyenne?”

“I know he destroyed your headquarters,” Joshua admitted. “It was called the Biological Center, wasn’t it?”

The Doktor frowned. “Yes. My life’s work. All of my equipment and notes. The labor of a century, gone.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that! All thanks to Lynx and…” He stopped, as if he couldn’t recall the name he wanted.

“Yama,” Joshua finished for him.

“Yama, yes.” The Doktor grinned. “Thank you.”

“But you don’t need to continue on to Catlow,” Joshua mentioned.

“I don’t?”

“No. Turn back, now, before it’s too late. We can establish a truce, right here and now, and end all of this bloodshed and violence. Don’t you see?”

Joshua said, gesturing with enthusiasm. “The future is in your hands! War or peace, it’s all up to you. Armageddon or a millennium of tranquility.

Why should we continue to fight, when we could work together in harmony toward the betterment of both our peoples?”

“Tell me, Joshua,” the Doktor urged, “does Plato know you’re here?”

“No one does,” Joshua divulged. “I told you, I came alone.”

“Remarkable.”

“Plato wouldn’t have let me come,” Joshua said. “His paranoia would have gotten the better of him.”

“Plato isn’t too fond of me, is he?” the Doktor inquired.

“Plato believes you are his enemy,” Joshua elaborated. “He thinks the only way to deal with you is with brute force.”

“And what do you think of me?”

“I think of you the same as I do of all men and women,” Joshua stated.

“All of us are children of the Divine Creator. We are all brothers and sisters, in a spiritual sense. We must learn to love one another, or our world is doomed. Didn’t World War Three teach us anything? Here we are, on the verge of another war! When will we learn our lesson? How long must violence be the norm instead of brotherhood? Why can’t humankind see the light?”

The Doktor was staring off into space. “Do you really believe peace on earth is possible?”

“Of course!” Joshua exclaimed, excited, sensing victory. “All it takes is two people, two sides, two nations, whatever, reaching out in friendship, extending a helping hand to one another in place of mistrust and animosity.” He paused. “We could do it! The Family and the Civilized Zone! We could sign a peace treaty and end all this needless suffering and misery. Don’t you agree?”

The Doktor didn’t respond.

“Don’t you agree?” Joshua goaded him.

“No.” The Doktor sighed, a protracted, peculiarly sad sound, and faced Joshua. When he spoke his voice was softer, tinged with regret. “No, I don’t. While I admire your youthful idealism, and I honestly do, I find considerable fault with your wisdom. You see, Joshua, I was an idealist once. Decades ago. Over one hundred years ago, to be precise. I took a long, hard look at this paltry planet of ours, and I came to many of the same conclusions you did. I saw a world embroiled in petty conflicts, where hatred was the rule and greed the motivating factor in civilization—”

“We can change all that—” Joshua began.

The Doktor held up his left hand for silence. “I thought the same thing at your age. I wanted the nations of the world to desist with their foolish notions of national sovereignty. This is one planet and we all one people.

But I knew the various Governments would never willingly unite. So I reached one of the major decisions in my life. I decided to devote my recognized intellect to insuring that one nation could dominate all the others, thereby ending the ceaseless bickerings and wars for all time. My scientific genius was responsible for the regenerating chemical clouds and resultant mutates, as you call them. I—“

“What?” Joshua interrupted, astonished. “You’re responsible for the mutates?”

“Unintentionally,” the Doktor replied. “I was developing a new form of chemical warfare, a gaseous mixture capable of dissolving human tissue and bone. The acidic agents are specifically attracted to the human metabolism. Mutates result because the complicated chemical elements in the clouds do not leech successfully on animal metabolisms. Their physiology goes haywire instead. I never intended to use the gas in this country. Samuel the First insisted on doing so after the war, as a means of further disrupting outlying communities and distracting them from the business of restablishing a new Government.”

“You… unleashed… the clouds?”

“One of the least of my accomplishments,” the Doktor stated. “My masterpiece is my work in genetic engineering. I, and I alone, discovered the technique for editing the genetic instructions encoded in the chemical structure of molecules of DNA. My original purpose was to produce a master race of perfect humans.” He glanced behind him at the clustered creatures. “Obviously, I haven’t quite attained my goal, but I am close. At least, I was, until my laboratories were destroyed.” His features clouded.

Joshua could only gawk, stupefied.

“Nothing ever works out quite the way we expect it to, does it?” the Doktor went on. “Did I tell you I constructed the very first thermo? A potent, portable thermonuclear device. I was certain they would guarantee that we won the war. I was wrong.”

Joshua felt a chill creep into his body.

The Doktor looked at Joshua. “Do you have any idea how old I am?”

“Plato told me you are one hundred and twenty-seven years old,” Joshua answered.

“How does he know that?” the Doktor inquired in surprise.

“It’s all in your notebooks,” Joshua explained.

The Doktor’s eyes narrowed and his arms dropped to his sides. “Plato… has… my… notebooks?”

Joshua’s mouth suddenly went dry.

“A delightful bonus! I’ll have them back soon,” the Doktor cryptically stated. “Yes. I am one hundred and twenty-seven years old, thanks to my rejuvenation process. And do you know what my years of experience have taught me?”

Joshua shook his head.

“There is no God—”

“But there is!” Joshua protested.

The Doktor’s right hand lashed out and slapped Joshua across the face.

“Don’t interrupt me again!

God does not exist! Where are your brains, boy? Look around you. How could a loving God allow all the anguish and distress in this world to persist? How could a compassionate God permit us to know pain?”

“But God isn’t responsible—” Joshua began.

The Doktor backhanded him on the mouth. “I warned you! You mindless jackass! How can any sane person propose a brotherhood of humankind? Humans are cattle, boy! Nothing more, nothing less than dimwitted cattle. How can they see the light when the only motivation they appreciate is the crack of a sturdy whip? Why do you think I wanted one nation, our nation, to dominate the globe? Because I knew I would then be the one cracking the whip, or controlling those who did! Why do you think I influenced the leaders of our military-industrial complex to provoke the Soviets into initiating the war?”

“You did what?” Joshua asked, horrified by the transformation now contorting the Doktor’s facial features. His eyes were wild and unfocused, his nostrils were flaring, and his lips were trembling.

“It was I, boy!” The Doktor suddenly cackled. “In the entire history of this planet, my genius has never been surpassed! Einstein was a mental midget compared to me! What Beethoven was to music, and Tesla was to electricity, I have been to the art of war! The ancient Greeks were right in worshiping a god of war, because there is a god of war, boy, and…” The Doktor paused and glared at Joshua. “I… am… he!”

Joshua inadvertently recoiled, shocked by the sheer madness reflected on the Doktor’s visage.

“I am the only god you will ever know,” the Doktor stated.

“But you’re not a god!” Joshua said, disputing him. “You’re a man, just like me! The Spirit of God indwells us, but this indwelling doesn’t make us gods.”

“Oh?” The Doktor’s right eyebrow arched upward. He grinned and reached out with his right hand, gripping Joshua by the throat. “Do you know that if I had slapped you with all my strength a moment ago, your head would be rolling in the ditch?” He began squeezing Joshua’s neck, slowly, enjoying himself, savoring the hint of fear in Joshua’s eyes. “You dare babble to me about God? How old are you, boy? Twenty-five?

Certainly not over thirty. Compare your age to mine. Which one of us do you think is the wiser?”

Joshua was attempting to break the Doktor’s steely clamp on his throat, without success. He smashed his fists again and again on the Doktor’s arm and hand, but it was like striking a tree trunk; it hurt his fists and the Doktor gave no indication he felt a thing.

The Doktor’s tone lowered, returning to normal after his unprovoked outburst. “Believe me, Joshua, when I tell you there is no God. I learned the truth at an early age, when my parents were killed by a hit-and-run driver. A beneficent Supreme Being would hardly allow such calamities to transpire. Ergo, the Supreme Being does not exist. Circumstance and probability are the rule of the cosmos.”

Joshua’s face was turning red, his efforts to free himself growing weaker by the second and his lungs desperate for air.

“Don’t worry, boy,” the Doktor told him. “You won’t die. Not yet, anyway. I have a special treat in store for you when you awaken. You’ll thank me for the honor I will bestow upon you.”

Joshua gasped once and went limp.

“I really should thank you,” the Doktor said, and released his hold.

Joshua tumbled to the road and sprawled on his stomach.

Clarissa and Thor approached the Doktor.

“Is he dead?” Clarissa inquired in her strangely sibilant tone.

“Not yet.” The Doktor smiled. “We owe this moron a debt of gratitude, and you know I always repay my debts.”

“Gratitude?” Clarissa repeated, puzzled.

“The fool revealed critical information,” the Doktor explained. “He confirmed my suspicions about the Family and Lynx. I knew Lynx had required assistance in escaping from the Biological Center and stealing the thermo unit, but I couldn’t imagine who possessed such audacity.

Several witnesses reported that a man had helped Lynx. One couple even claimed Lynx had given them a message to deliver, something about Lynx and someone else ‘sending their love.’ Unfortunately for them, they weren’t able to accurately recall the name of the other party. The husband said it was Dama, while the woman maintained it was Lama. Imbeciles! I knew better!”

“Who was it?” Clarissa wanted to know.

“Yama, one of the Warriors from the Family.”

“A Warrior entered the Citadel!” Clarissa said, marveling. “You were right, then, and Samuel was wrong.”

The Doktor snorted derisively. “Samuel may falsely believe he rules the Civilized Zone, but the simpleton couldn’t locate his rectum in broad daylight without a diagram of his anatomy! I warned him, repeatedly, the Family should be eliminated. But no! He knew better! The Cavalry comes first, he said! So there we were, preparing for our march on the Cavalry, with most of our military hardware lined up like sitting ducks outside the Biological Center, and what happens?” he demanded rhetorically.

“Yama and Lynx blew it up,” Thor commented, and immediately regretted it. He saw the Doktor’s jaw muscles tighten and feared a raging outburst.

Amazingly, the Doktor smiled. “Yes, they did, leaving Samuel with a skeleton force at his disposal. Thanks to them, we’ll have minimal opposition when we reach Denver and dethrone Samuel.” He chuckled. “I happen to think I’ll make an outstanding ruler. Don’t you?”

“Of course,” Clarissa agreed.

“Yes, Doktor,” Thor concurred.

The Doktor nudged Joshua with his right toe. “Thanks to him, I know Plato has my notebooks. It’s too bad the boy won’t be around in ten days when my little surprise is unleashed on the Home. I’ll get my notebooks back and my revenge on Plato and the Warriors at the same time!” The Doktor laughed and laughed. “I can hardly wait! It’s lamentable we must attend to business in Catlow first, but I wouldn’t consider depriving the fools of the chance to spring their trap on us.”

“You know it is a trap?” Clarissa asked. “Yet we walk into it anyway?”

“I suspected an ambush,” the Doktor declared. “Joshua’s presence confirms the likelihood. Don’t worry! The Warriors and Lynx may be working in concert, but what can they do against two hundred and thirty-five primary members of my Genetic Research Division and one hundred soldiers from our Auxiliary?”

“If only we knew what they were up to,” Clarissa remarked.

The Doktor stared northward. “I was aware they were up to something when our last monitoring patrol sent to the Home didn’t return. But it really doesn’t matter. There is nothing they can do against our superior force.”

“Why not use a thermo on Catlow?” Thor queried.

“Because we don’t have any left,” the Doktor said, frowning. “The units were obliterated with the Biological Center, although the possibility exists Lynx and Yama absconded with one or two.”

“You owe the Family for a lot,” Clarissa noted.

“Yes, I do,” the Doktor growled, clenching his fists. “And I vow to repay them for every insult, starting with him.” He pointed at the unconscious Empath.

Thor extended his sledgehammer. “Do I finish him?”

“No,” the Doktor responded. “Fetch some wood.”

“Wood?”

“Yes. Two lengthy planks will do. Strip a pair of floor planks from one of the trucks if necessary.”

“Yes, Doktor.” Thor departed.

“Why wood?” Clarissa questioned the Doktor.

He indicated the sagebrush-covered fields adjacent to the highway.

“Because there is nary a tree in sight, dear girl. Two planks will suffice adequately.”

Clarissa licked her lips. “Will there be much blood?”

The Doktor nodded. “Yes, but we can’t linger while you quench your thirst.”

“On to Catlow?”

The Doktor’s expression hardened. “On to Catlow!”