ALSO SPRACH ZARATHUSTRA12
12:1
The ghost of Hazmat stood at attention on the outcropping.
The whistling stopped and the guns emerged from the tunnel.
They broke apart, slammed back together. The pieces flipped and interlocked around the General’s shadow; twin atoms splitting and rebinding themselves in his orbit.
He stopped at the end of the tunnel, his medals catching up to him, bobbing about his body like fruit flies. He gazed around the bend to see a Carbon Corps soldier bound, bagged, and gagged.
“Captain Wolfe, I presume?” he said. The General smiled and gave a hearty salute. His salute was returned.
“Fine work, Major,” he said. He placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Now, where did the good doctor run off to? It’s time to clean up our mess.”
The rubber glove wrapped around his shoulder. The General’s eyes burst and then narrowed on the helmet as both vanished in a flash of static.
They reappeared under the dust encrusted turbines of Doc McDougal’s Ark. The General cried out, smoke streaming from his skin after going through warp without containment. The suit punched in another code on the watch and ghosted the General again.
The suit materialized against the cliffs, one arm hidden completely inside the rock, the General nowhere in sight. Cracks grew around the shoulder as dull thunder rose. The sleeve came apart at the seams. The arm slid free and unlocked the helmet.
Hiss…click!
Wolfe tossed it to the side. She flipped her sweat-soaked hair out of the way and ran to Major Nero. He was face-down on the ground, hogtied hands and feet wiggling in the air, his cries muffled by the gag in his mouth and muffled further by the sack over his head. Wolfe pulled out her field knife and freed his hands, leaving him to do the rest.
“Austen, report.”
Evacuating Kronos Commons. Vaults nearly finished. Just called the Reverend down from the steeple. All accounted for minus Mort, Joules and the boy.
“About to come topside.”
When?
“Any second now.”
She crept along the narrow outcropping to the hoist she’d set up. She threw the General’s trench coat off of Joules. She fastened her in tight, secured the harness, and started the winch. She watched the girl rise slowly up the cliffside.
Mort popped out the hatch of Virgil Sloat’s grave and scrambled over to Joules, pulling her to safety. Eugene clambered out of the hole and fell over. He looked down the hill as a cloud of dust rose from the Vaults. Molly ushered the last few residents outside as the dome sank further into the ground. Jones led her and their neighbors into Dee’s Diner.
Got eyes on them now, boss. Looks like they’re taking cover in the church.
“Hold position,” Wolfe said. “And wait for my signal.”
Say, Cap, what’s the signal again?
“Don’t rightly know,” she said. “But I reckon you won’t miss it…”
Wolfe went back to Nero who was still struggling with the gag in his mouth. He glared at her and said something unpleasant. Though she was glad she couldn’t hear it, she untied it for him and took him by the shoulder.
“Listen up, Charlie,” she said. “You don’t like me and I don’t like you, but it’s safe to say your dad’s gone batshit. How many folks y’all sacrifice for his little science experiment? Speak up.”
“Not many,” he said.
“One’s too many.”
“Come on, Wolfe,” he said. “It ain’t like that. Just a handful won’t be missed anyhow.”
“Wrong,” she said. “I miss them, you hear? Now, if you’re going to try and help me talk some sense into him, maybe you’ll walk away from this. Not clean, mind you, but least you’ll be breathing without the aid of any unnatural mechanisms.”
He rubbed his hands and looked at her, his eye twitching.
“You read me, Major?” she said. She checked the chamber on her handcannon and snapped it shut “I need all hands on deck and I’m not in the position to be picky.”
“Hell,” he said. “Like I got a choice.”
Rocks shifted above and drizzled pebbles and dust on them. A sizable boulder came loose and tumbled down, barely missing the outcropping, and smashed apart hundreds of feet below. Fresh rubble joined the ancient remnants of Diablo Canyon, the cooling silos cracked like eggshells and strewn about toward the tundra gilding the horizon.
The General emerged from the rock and soil. The debris slipped away from him and he brought his guns back to him, piece by piece. He was free of imperfections, the scar tissue fading along with the wrinkles of time, his ghost white hair floating wild.
Newborn.
“That’s far enough,” Wolfe said. She took aim and found her two shots. One in the head, one in the heart.
“Well done,” the General said. He clapped for her. “Pointless, but I’ll admit you had me going there.”
“I need you to stand down,” she said, sweat rolling down her face. “Or we’re gonna tumble again.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the General mused. “I’ve had time to think it all through and I’m perfectly calm.” He caught his Boomslangs by the barrels and surrendered them to Charlie.
The Major looked at them in awe. He’d wanted to touch them since he was little. His eyes went up and down like he was undressing them. He licked his lips.
“Good to hear,” Wolfe said. “Best to go quietly now.”
“Be careful with those, son. Hair triggers, you know.”
Charlie nodded and checked the safety on each. He slid one down the front of his pants. He cocked the other and shot Wolfe in the shoulder, spinning her around. She fell to the ground, heavy in the old suit.
“Idiot!” the General said.
“God…damn,” Wolfe said. “You’re a special kind of stupid, aren’t ya, Charlie?”
“Stand down, soldier!” the General fumed. His eyes were flames.
“Shit, dad,” he said. “You weren’t lying about hairy triggers.”
“Put that piece down,” the General said. “Now!”
“What?” he said. “Ain’t you want her dead?”
“That was before,” he said. “The Captain here’s proved herself rather capable by surviving your botched ambush and making it past the Feint. I’ll have to check my receipt for the return policy, by the way,” he said, turning to Wolfe. “I do hope they’re still alive.”
“For the most part,” she said.
“Hell, it was you told me bitches like this need taught a lesson,” Charlie said. “And I got her dead to rights. Just say the word.”
“The word is ‘No,’” he said. “You’ve only got her now because she took pity on you.”
“Can’t spell ‘stupidity’ without it,” Charlie said. “Say, dad, where’s Ron and Nicky? They warp back to Atlas with Lenny?”
“I’m afraid they didn’t make it,” he said. “But thanks for using their names.”
“Figured as much,” Charlie said. “You ain’t never liked my friends.”
“They weren’t your friends,” he said. “You think they’d associate with you if coin weren’t involved? They were always laughing at you behind your back.”
“Hell, I know I ain’t no brain,” he said. “Let ‘em laugh. Besides, they ain’t never made me think I’m a useless piece of shit. Not like you.”
“Not my intention,” he said. “I raised you the same my daddy did me.”
“Don’t act like I don’t know things,” he said. “Like what you mean by ‘they didn’t make it.’”
“I haven’t the faintest idea—”
“Means you killed ‘em.”
“It was nothing personal.”
“Shit,” Charlie said. He pulled out the other gun and aimed it at his dad. “Never is…”
“Don’t be thick, boy.”
“Charlie,” Wolfe said. “Now, calm down…”
“I am calm,” Charlie said. “And don’t tell me what to do.”
“Just ease up,” she said.
“You think you hate him?” he said. “I’ve been waiting to shoot the bastard ever since I met him.”
“I get it, Charlie,” Wolfe said. “Really, I do, just put the gun down. There’s a better way…”
“Nah, see, I get what you’re playin’ at, Wolfe,” Charlie said. “Trying to get him to let his guard down. Think he’ll go easier that way. Here’s the truth, though. He ain’t never done that. Not in all his life.”
He winked at her.
“No,” she said. “Don’t!”
Charlie turned and emptied both pistols into the General. The turn-bolts hissed and clacked as bullets splashed bright blood from the old man.
The General stumbled backward and caught himself against the cliffs. He stepped forward, eyes twitching mad. The guns in Charlie’s hands broke apart.
“Wh—what are you doing, dad?” Nero said. His feet left the ground. “How are—”
“Don’t you call me that,” he said. “Ever again!”
“But, Dad…” Nero’s lip quivered. Always happened when dad yelled. Like it was hardwired. Charlie couldn’t override his basic programming. “Dad, I—”
“Stop crying, you little shit!”
The Boomslangs came together. Shattered lead slipped out of the General’s body, reformed into fresh bullets, and loaded into the chambers.
“Dad?”
They fired one after the other and tore through Charlie’s shoulder and chest. There was the initial burst of blood and the delayed reaction that came in torrents, flooding the Major’s undershirt. Soon he was covered below the neck. The Boomslangs fell and the General stood shaking, staring at his son floating before him.
“Da…”
The General watched the breathing slow. He outstretched his hand and held his son’s cheek. Charlie gulped, his body spasmed with each failed attempt to breathe. There was fear in the General’s eyes as he scoured over his fine work. He removed the bullet shards from the wounds and let them fall away. He focused on applying pressure, sealing the ruined skin.
“Hurts…”
Charlie’s head fell into his chest and did a small roll to the side. All sense of movement was gone.
The General stood motionless. He blinked, not sure how it had happened. It was all too fast. He didn’t want those guns to fire. At least, he didn’t now.
It was a reflex. A Freudian slip involving triggers and lead. Yet all the old man could muster was a solitary, dispassionate “Oh…”
The General let the pieces rise and come back together. The pistols slipped into his son’s holsters. He fastened his medals and service ribbons to Charlie’s uniform, tucked the Bleeding Heart into the blood-soaked undershirt. He held out his hand and his trench flew toward him. He wrapped it around his son and sighed. He patted Charlie’s cheek.
“You were right, you know…” He turned to Wolfe. “Superior officer…” And he let his son fall. “Nothing superior about him…”
Charlie dashed upon the rocks at the bottom of the void.
“You’re off the tracks,” Wolfe said.
“They say we all outgrow our friends at some point,” the General said. “I suppose we outgrow blood just the same.”
“You’re not in any position to talk about blood.”
“What can I say?” the General said. “My form is my function…”
She struggled to her feet and raised her handcannon, clutching her shoulder to keep it steady.
“Now, look at you,” the General said. “Bleeding out and still ready to scrap. Like I’ve always said, Adrian, you’ve got salt. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if you were my kid. I mean, the stones on you.”
“I’d rather not picture that,” she said.
“Fair enough,” he said. “Now, where did the good doctor run off to? I’d like to have a word with him.”
“Not one more step,” Wolfe said. “Or I’ll send you straight to hell.”
He grinned and bowed to her graciously.
“After you, my dear…”
Wolfe kept her sights trained on the General’s forehead as he circled her. He was humming a little tune. A drinking song. The Old Dusty Rag.
“Suppose you consider this disobeying a lawful order,” he said. “That’ll be hard to pull off without evidence.”
“I’m sure I’ll have proof enough before all is said and done.” She tapped her earpiece. “How am I coming through, Kale?”
Crisp and clear, boss. Uploading audio and visual to SOS flag now.
“I suggest you leave it lie,” he said. “Honestly, what are you going to do? Arrest me? Shoot me?”
“For starters.”
“How’s that going to look?” he said. “Trying to axe a defenseless, unarmed old man, especially after you took out my private security. They were good men, expensive ones too. That hurts, Adrian.”
“Hard to find good help these days,” she said.
“Ain’t that the truth,” he said. “Especially when the good soldiers tend to go their own way.”
“Suppose that should tell you something, right there.”
“I suppose it should…”
“I’m giving you a shot here, sir,” Wolfe said. “Tune to my channel or I will cut you down. I repeat, give it up or I’ll turn your skull into a canoe.”
“What ever happened to you, Adrian?” he said. “Ever since your little friend lost her head—”
“Blaine,” she said. “Her name was Blaine. And she’d still be alive if it weren’t for you.”
“But that was your order, Captain,” he said. “Not mine.”
“The hell it was,” she said. “You knew those charges were rigged, same as me. And I’d bet folding money you knew what was likely to happen.”
“Of course,” he said. “Of course, I knew…” He smiled and relished the look in her eyes. “I mean, I didn’t know exactly how it’d play out, but there was always hope.”
“Hope?” Her arm wavered slightly. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead and stung in her eye.
“You needed to learn your lesson the hard way,” he said. “The same as the rest of us. It was a necessary loss, Adrian. Truly.”
“We had tech and technical on standby,” she said. “You gave the negative. Blaine’s death was anything but necessary.”
“You haven’t lost another soldier since, have you?” he said. “Don’t kid yourself, Adrian. You can’t teach your children everything.” The General sighed and shook his head. “Sometimes, you don’t know there’s a minefield until some poor bastard takes a wrong step. Sometimes, the mission isn’t grand. Sometimes, the mission means failing small to preserve what’s important.”
“I’ve got my mission,” she said. “Might be small, but it’s definitely for the greater good.”
“You got a shot, then take it, sweetheart,” he said, spreading his arms wide in surrender. “Take your shot…”
Two shots rang out.
Then four more rattled off.
Wolfe’s shoulders slammed against the cliffs on her way up. She flew over the cliffs, tumbling through the air. The ground broke her fall hard on her hands, cracking her knees, but she didn’t slow down. She bucked down the hill, end over end, smacking into headstones until her skull caught the corner of one.
Her eyes rolled back and the rest of her rolled to a dead stop at the bottom of the hill.
“That’s the signal, ladies!” Austen said. “Line up!”
The General floated over the edge, hands outstretched, showing grace.
“You have been all things,” he mumbled to himself. Mort and Eugene watched through the window of the vacant chapel, but the General passed them by. “You have conquered all things…”
The Hellbender revved out of the garage and whipped through town. Kale gripped the wheel and slammed the gas. The mangled frame snarled up the hill and knocked over gravestones. Jas manned the cannon and let the high caliber bullets fly. Mort threw Eugene to the ground. He covered the boy’s head and shielded Joules with his body, as the stained-glass windows shattered.
“Now, O conqueror,” the General said. “Go be a God…”
The shells burst in front of the General. He winced through the gunpowder and shrugged it off. He floated up and dropped right in the Hellbender’s path. Jas emptied the magazine, but the bullets veered around him before they could land a hit. The General raised his arms and the wheels left the ground. The frame creaked and groaned. Jas leapt from the cannon-mount and rolled in the dirt. The driver’s side door swung open. Kale dangled by the handle and the duneduster spun through the air. She fell off as the General tossed the heap over their heads and into Darby’s Tavern. The high-end spirits went up in flames, billowing out and licking the frame of Dee’s Diner. Fire roared as the jukebox let out its garbled swansong.
Molly and the Reverend tried to keep the townsfolk calm, but they may as well have been herding cats. Ignatius and his sons burst outside, still in their long-johns, and ran buckets of water from the spigot outside Kronos Commons. Two of the Vanvulcanburg triplets paced frantically around inside, screaming for their absent sister. They didn’t realize they were now twins. Delilah was dead in the stairwell of Kronos Commons. Brain aneurysm. There are worse ways to go.
Sinkholes opened throughout the main drag. Buildings teetered on their shifting foundations. Glass, smoke, debris everywhere. Screams filled in the space between the revolving earthquake alarms. Cats clawed their way through window screens and dogs yowled.
Jas shook sand loose and got on the coms.
“Wake up, Hatch,” Jas said. “Time to get to work.”
Brugada came to at Wolfe’s desk in the outpost. Down the cell block the rest of his men were licking their wounds behind bars. The keys were taped to his hand.
Left your men frosting. Had no choice with your boys out in the dunes, but you should know we ain’t killed the rest of you.
“Gee, thanks,” Brugada said. He hit the electrodes in his armor, culling his adrenaline, and got on his feet.
Look, I know y’all ain’t Corps, but we could really use some help out here. So, if you’re ready to do the right thing, anytime now would be great…
Brugada took the keys and set his men free. They pulled their weapons from the locker: assault rifles, grenade launchers, long-distance tasers, flamethrowers, mag-drive crossbows. Locked and loaded they stomped out into the street and took stock of the situation. Brugada saw the General up the hill.
“Hate to say it, boys, but clear and present is the General,” he said. “I know he’s technically our employer, but what if I told you his last few checks bounced?”
Bill’s come due!
“Damn right,” Brugada said. He gave the signal and the Feint Guard fanned out and encircled the hill, their weapons trained on the naked, old man. The General glided down the hill and showed his hands. Nothing up his sleeves.
“General Howard Mendax,” Brugada said. He triggered his electrodes again and relished the voltage to amp himself up. “You have till the count of three to lay down arms…”
The General grinned and cracked his neck as The Feint Guard closed in.
“One…two…”
A shot rang out and a high caliber bullet blazed from the crow’s nest. It sped straight for the General’s throbbing left temple. Austen held her breath and lined up her next shot. The General winked at her through the scope and the bullet came whizzing back, splintering the lens. Austen jerked her head back, but not before the shell tore into her good eye.
The Feint Guard opened fire, concentrating on the General as he absorbed and deflected their shots. Two flanked the General with flamethrowers. He held out his hands and the fire bent around his fingertips. The General flipped Brugada’s gun around, littering his body with holes from the crotch up to his neck. He then turned two of them on each other, firing as they both fell to the ground in jerky, stop-motion as joints split and their juices spilled.
He reversed the intake on the flamethrowers and turned two of them into firecrackers. He then pulled the rifles from the remaining guards and threw them all toward the driving sled Ignatius kept out back for his sons. It was covered in dust, the cushions torn and spilling their stuffing. The guards hit the sled, one by one, each driving it forward a few feet until the last body hit and sent it sliding out into the dunes past the 50-yard line.
“Stay here and keep her safe,” Mort said to Eugene. He ran his fingers through his daughter’s hair and stood up.
“Okay,” Eugene said. “But, like…how?”
“You’re a bright kid,” Mort said. “You’ll figure something out.”
He stepped out of the church and started charging down the hill.
“Wake up,” Eugene said, shaking her. “Come on, you lightweight…”
“Howard!”
The General turned to see Mort sprinting toward him. He laughed and let the man finish his charge. At the last moment, he grabbed Mort and spun him a few feet off the ground, limbs wiggling, chest heaving.
“Calm yourself, Dr. Nova,” the General said. “We have plenty of time to discuss your severance.”
“There is nothing to discuss,” Mort spit back. “You killed Walter and the others, you destroyed my home…”
“Force majeure,” the General smirked. “I’m sure it was in the contract you and your wife signed.”
Abner dashed from Sloat’s Dry Stock with bandages and antiseptic. He slid inside the diner and Ignatius shoved Ennis in behind him. The cranky old bastard slammed shut the door and marched toward the General.
“Eyes front, jackass!” Ignatius said.
“This son of ours is stubborn and rebellious,” the General said. “He will not obey us…he is a glutton and a drunkard.”
“You mess with my town,” Skar said. “You mess with me.” He stomped right up to the General and got in his face.
“Go home, Iggy,” the General scoffed. “This ain’t your fight.”
Ignatius leaned in and whispered. “Like…hell…”
He planted his bum leg and twisted it. The knee-cap popped open and spring-released a sawed-off scattergun. Ignatius caught it, cocked it, and put it to the General’s head.
“Then all the men of his town are to stone him to death,” the General said, not blinking. “You must purge the evil from among you…”
The General yawned and flicked the shotgun up into the man’s head. His legs flew out from under him and he landed, unconscious, in a puff of dust. The Reverend leapt from the diner and rushed to help him.
“Come on, Skar,” Jones said. “Wake up.”
The General whistled at Jones and nodded to the scattergun, sliding it through the sand to his former brother-in-arms.
“Come on, Jonesy,” he said. “Pick it up.” He winked at his old pal.
“Moths have eaten your clothes, Howard,” Jones said. “Everything you cherish is corroded and will testify against you and eat your flesh like fire.”
“Words,” The General said. “Is that all God has to offer?”
The Reverend kicked the gun away and grabbed Ignatius by the suspenders. He kept his eyes on Howard as he pulled the old fool back into the Diner.
“Smart man,” the General said.
“Like you’d know,” Mort said.
“Look, Mort,” he said. “I understand that you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but I really need you to know that I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Faint praise.”
“I truly mean it,” he said. “I really don’t want there to be any bad blood between us.”
“Just…let us go…all of us…just leave, please.”
“I’ll be on my way soon enough,” the General said.
Back in the church, Joules blinked and groaned.
“Huh?” she said, rubbing sand from her eyes. “Where…”
“Come on, get up,” Eugene said. He ushered her over to the broken window. “Shit’s hitting the fan…”
She peeked over the edge and saw the General drop her father like a trash bag.
“Fucker!” Joules said.
“Shh!” Eugene said. “He’ll hear us. I’m supposed to keep you safe.”
“You?” Joules said. She grabbed his arm and yanked it up and down like a rubber pencil trick. “That’s a laugh.”
Mort pushed himself to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth. Mort wound up and punched the General in the small of his back. The General spun around and laughed in his face. Mort bounced and juked and gave him another right cross.
“Good show, old sport,” the General grinned. He snatched Mort up in the air again and laughed as he thrashed about, trying to land another blow. “Now, Morty, I’m not going to let you go until you’ve got yourself under control. Deep breaths. Just count to thr—”
Brugada’s thumb pressed down the trigger, again and again. His armor clicked and whirred, the electricity surging on overload. His limbs twitched and he got off one last shot from his pistol, catching the General in the throat.
The General coughed out blood, his nostrils flared, and he clenched his fists as if he were holding stress balls. Brugada’s chest caved in and Mort balled up like a crumpled piece of paper, snapping and cracking as he did.
“How—ard!”
“Dad!”
Eugene saw one of Mort’s bones slip through the skin and promptly fainted. Joules left him to hit the ground.
“Dad, dad, dad!” she said, rushing down the hill. She went to his side. “Oh, my God, Dad. Please, look, look at me. Dad…”
The General gasped at the horror and reeled back.
“Christ, Mort,” he stammered. “I had no intention…”
“Dad, please, look at me,” Joules cried. “Please…”
The General bent to tend to Mort, but Joules burned at him through bleary eyes.
“Get the fuck away from him!”
The General stumbled backwards. The town was on fire. Bodies splayed about in the street and side-alleys. Mort’s mangled frame laying before him.
“I…I…” he struggled to regain his composure. He took a deep breath and looked down at Joules. The girl would drag him over a highway of broken glass if she could.
The citizens of Hazmat gathered outside of Dee’s Diner. Some of them helped put out the tavern fire. Others tended to the wounded. Mostly though, they stared at the scene on the hill. The shattered gravestones, the bodies, the blood. The Vaults crumbled and sank further underground. The incessant wail of the sirens became the town’s heaving lungs.
The General looked into each and every one of their eyes. He felt their stress, the confusion and anguish bubbling up inside. Their terror pulled him in different directions. For a moment, he could feel the quickened pulse of Joules and Mort’s strangled heartbeat. All of it laid judgement upon him.
And he disagreed.
He clutched his temples and screamed. The siren console exploded, the speakers throughout town sparked and fell from their posts. The siren’s swansong echoed out into the desert, leaving the town eerily quiet.
“Young master Bohr!” the General cried up the hill.
Eugene woke up in a sweat. The church doors burst open and he tumbled out.
“There’s a good lad,” the General said. “Why don’t you come down here, so we can have a chat.”
“No, thanks,” Eugene called out. “I’m good…”
The General flicked his wrist and pulled Eugene down the hill. He rolled and bounced to a stop at the General’s bare feet.
“Did that hurt?” the General leaned over him. “Good. It wouldn’t have happened if you’d just listen. It’s so simple! Why won’t any of you listen?”
“Maybe, ah,” Eugene said, trying to push himself up. “Maybe try avoiding murder. Tends to obscure the point…”
“To hell with that,” Joules said, glaring at the General through tears. “Murder sounds fucking great right about now.” She stood up and started kicking him as hard as she could.
“That’s quite enough,” the General said. He winced and pinched her nerve, putting her back to sleep. “It’s lesson time. Time for all of you to learn…”
He turned toward the church and marched the path to glory. Joules floated under his control, gliding out in front of him. Her hair flowing, her face frozen in anger.
“But I…” Eugene struggled to his feet. “But I was just up there…” He groaned and braced himself against a headstone, which promptly fell over. “Oh, come on!” He stumbled forward and pulled himself up the hill.
The General stood calmly over the cliffs and let out a sigh. Joules floated out past the edge and hovered in place. The General regarded her like a snowflake.
“Put…” Eugene tripped and fell again. He got up and brushed himself off. “Put her down.”
“Pretty little thing,” the General said. “Much better without her mouth open, though, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Dude,” Eugene said. “Creepy.”
“Look at her,” he said. “So soft, so warm, so utterly defenseless. It’s an apt metaphor, wouldn’t you say?”
“Listen, asshole,” Eugene said. “I’m not your therapist.”
“She’s so emblematic of your problem, our problem,” the General said. “When she’s awake this girl is filled with fire and energy. She’d take on the whole world for a just cause, but when she’s asleep…”
“What’s your point?” he said. “I zoned out on account of not caring.”
“The point is,” the General said. His hand graced Joules’ cheek. “Everybody sleeps.”
“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” Eugene said. “Little Howie got a new toy and wants to show off, but you’re not thinking this through. Yeah, you’re the biggest fish now, but once word spreads the pond’s going to feel pretty tight. Soon, everyone’s going to cast a line. How much are you going to accomplish once all the hooks start to sink in?”
“So wise so young, they say, do never live long,” the General said.
“What’s the endgame here?” Eugene said. “You think people are going to forget this? It’s gonna be a long time before the dust settles.”
“I don’t need approval,” he said. “I’ve survived long enough without it. I have no use for medals or rewards of service, much less the consent of institutions too frightened to govern with true vision.”
“Okay, final offer,” Eugene said. “We’ll get you the best lawyer in the Constant. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of bats in the belfry to justify a plea of insanity. Plastic surgery, a new identity, whatever you need to disappear, we can make it happen. Just, please…walk away. Put her down. End this.”
“You’re so naïve,” he said. “You probably still believe that hogwash about one person making all the difference. I’m here to tell you it takes more than a man.” He raised his hands and regarded them, as if entranced by his own power. “It takes more than a man…”
“No one’s died since I started talking,” Eugene said. “That’s difference enough for me.”
“A stay of execution still ends in a hanging,” the General said. “We’re all alone out here. Can’t you see? Your sympathies account for so little in the great big nothing, especially when all it takes…” He held out his palm and let Joules drift further. “Is the slightest breeze.”
The General chuckled to himself. Austen chuckled too as she finished tightening her silencer. She squared her left eye up to the scope.
Blood burst from the General’s chest. He glared at the crow’s nest and winced into the rising sun. The tower cracked in half. Austen slid down the ladder as it crumbled around her. Kale dodged out of the way as the outpost spilled into the street.
Joules fell and Eugene reached for her. Instead of falling over the edge, she toppled back toward Eugene and sprang to life.
“Hey, hey,” Eugene said. He shook her shoulder. “Come on, get up.”
“How the…” She blinked around. “What am I doing up here?”
“Long story,” he said. “Well, it’s actually not that long, but—”
“Save it.” She pushed him out of her way and sprinted back down the hill to her father.
The General twitched and spat. He could hear all the townspeople below. Their short breaths, their curses.
Someone shoot the bastard.
Didn’t work, Gus.
Well, shoot him again…
Whispers and cries.
Come on, kid. Don’t be stupid. Get out of there.
Prayers.
Please, Lord, please end the madness, please…
The General closed his eyes and clutched his temples.
And every eye shall see him…they which also pierced him…
The voices in his head became a cloud.
In his right hand seven stars…his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength…
Too much noise.
In the last days they will curse your ascent…
They were insects.
Step away from the others and I shall show you the mysteries of the kingdom…
A swarm of flies.
All kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him…
Buzzing. Buzzing in his head.
Even so, Amen…
Eugene took a deep breath and stepped in front of the General. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the only thing he had: a pair of broken glasses. He put them on and blinked. He squinted through the broken lenses, the sun bright in his eyes.
“Is that…” The General clutched his temples. “Is that supposed to inspire sympathy?”
“Last time I put these on a starcruiser exploded,” Eugene said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So, no, I’m not thinking sympathy. I’m thinking that other thing. What’s it called again? Oh, right…” He straightened himself out and stood a little taller. “Shitting your pants.”
“You look a lot like him, you know,” the General said. “I wish he could’ve joined us. He should have…but Walter made his choice. Tried to erase it all. All our blood, sweat, our sacrifice.”
“Seen enough blood and sweat,” Eugene said. “Just waiting on you for that last one.”
Wind blew over the cliffs and sand whirled about them. Eugene smiled and winked at the General. Then his face slammed down to the ground. Eugene spat out sand and the General laughed at him. Eugene tried to wipe the sand from his eyes, but he couldn’t. The sand from the ground had somehow crystallized. The world came into focus as the lenses reformed and glinted in the sun.
The General stopped laughing. The ground started shaking.
“How?”
“I’d never take you for Native Terran,” Eugene said. His knees shook. He struggled to stay on his feet. “Hàu…hàu to you too…”
The General knocked him down and jerked him back up in one fell swoop.
“God, I know,” Eugene said. “I know. Should be ‘Indigenous,’ not ‘Native’, plus it’s a shitty, ancient stereotype, but you’re not giving me much to work—”
“How did you that?” the General said, bringing Eugene right up to his face. The glasses gleamed like new between them. They almost touched noses, his rotten breath burning in Eugene’s eyes. Metal and blood. Scotch, smoke. “How are you still alive?”
“Glass of milk a day,” Eugene said.
“Liar!”
“Take my vitamins, too.”
The General threw his hands out, a shockwave rippling to the sides. The earth shifted. Headstones toppled down the hill.
The chapel groaned, the pews inside dragged across the floor. The steeple splintered and bent over, as if to pray. Sand streamed down the cliffs, loose coffins came unmoored and tumbled down, down, down.
Then Our Lady of Constellation split in half.
Her torn drywall, floorboards, and stained-glass shards proved Newton right.
Joules cradled her father’s head and wiped blood and sweat away from his eyes. Twisted bones exited his body at odd angles. He was still breathing. Barely.
“Dad?” she whispered. “Dad, please, you’ve got to stay still.”
“Joules?” he croaked. “Is…that…”
“Liar!”
The General tightened his grip on Eugene, persuading the kid’s throat to cave in.
“Honest,” Eugene said, his voice hoarse and dry. “I swear. You can get them…in the shape of your favorite cartoon characters. Personally, I like Rosie the Rhino…”
“You’ve been holding out on me, Eugene,” he said. “What did daddy do? Figured he’d sneak his formula off this rock, slip you some of the good stuff, and take it right out from under my nose?”
“Yeah,” Eugene said. “Sure. That was totally…his stupid, stupid plan…”
Jas ran across the street, stopping halfway to kneel at her sister’s side. She pulled out an adrenaline shot, bit off the top, and stuck it in. Jas tossed the needle away and rushed off to the water tower.
Wolfe came to a moment later in the burning street. The world was breaking around her, but she couldn’t hear any of it. All sound was tinnitus. A high-pitched whine, shifting back into focus. Eeeeee…
Jas clambered up the ladder and cranked open the emergency release. A wave fell and crashed and flooded across the street. The Hellbender hissed and the fire went out before the tank could blow.
Kale carried Austen over her left shoulder, her right still sore from her fall. Blood trickled from Austen’s good eye. Reverend shepherded the flock inside Dee’s Diner, ordering them into safe positions. They threw down the roll-cages and crawled under tables like a tornado drill. Molly ran outside on instinct. She tore off some of her blouse. She ran up to Austen and examined her eye the way a mother inspects a scuffed knee. Let’s get a good look at you. Does it hurt when I do this? Show me where the bad man got you…
Wolfe’s head spun through the chaos. She didn’t know where to stop, who to help, what to do. Then that simple impulse guided her once again. It cut through her in a heartbeat.
Avoid catastrophe.
She looked up on high. The General at the top of the hill, holding Eugene over the cliffs. Joules crying over her ruined father.
Wolfe got to her feet, flipped out her handcannon, dumped the shells, and began dragging her dead leg up the hill. She loaded each chamber, one after the other, and when she was finished, she checked the warp-watch on her wrist. The screen was cracked, but the guts were good. She grinned and wiped the blood from her forehead.
“Yes, sir,” she said. She slammed the chamber shut and cocked the trigger. “Right away, sir…”
Mort tried to sit up, but from Joules’ perspective he merely twitched in place. His face was drained, slicked in sweat, and every inch of him shivered.
“Puh—please…”
“Stop moving, dad,” she said. “You gotta stay still. We’ll get you help, but you can’t move. You’ll only make it worse.”
“I…know…”
“Stop it already,” she said. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, you dolt.”
“Please…” His eyes pleaded with her more than words ever could. A shiver washed over him. A tear ran down his cheek. “Forgive…”
“Done,” she said. “You’re forgiven, okay? Now shut the hell up and stop moving.”
The General held Eugene out over the cliffs.
“It’s not your fault,” he said. “You had no way of knowing. Hardly anyone does, but you can see it now. Yes, you can feel it too. What all of us feel living out here on the edge; in our bones, in our blood…” The tips of Eugene’s shoes scraped against the ledge as he tried to keep his footing. “The fear of God.”
“Okay, I give,” Eugene said. His spine arched back without his permission. Pain tore through every nerve. He floated farther and the ground left him. “Uncle? Banana! Safe…word…”
“I have to say,” the General said. “You’ve got a fairly high tolerance for pain.”
“What, this?” Eugene said. His teeth clenched, nearly out of breath, but the words were still slipping out. “Guys at my school can do better. I mean, you…you call this a noogie?”
“This is quite vexing, Mr. Bohr,” the General said. “If Charlie had done his job, you wouldn’t even be breathing right now, but here we are and…maybe I’m going soft, but perhaps today should end in mercy. Even God rested on the seventh day.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve decided not to kill you,” the General said. “I owe Walter that much.”
“Gee. Thanks, Skeletor, but the feeling’s not mutual…”
“But don’t you think for a second you’re going to stop me.”
“Who, me?” Eugene said. He clawed at his throat, trying to break the invisible bonds. The General grinned. Eugene grinned back. “You’re right. I’m not going to stop you…” Eugene laughed like hell as his veins popped out and his bones bent under the pressure. “Y—you should,” Eugene gasped between laughs. “The look on your face…priceless!”
“You disappoint me,” the General said. “I’ll let you finish. Go on, get it all out of your system. Just know that there’s nothing—”
He stopped. The familiar chill of steel at the base of his skull.
Wolfe exhaled, back to the sun, her hair wild in the wind. Steam roiled from her exposed arm and face, electricity crackling through her cuts and burns.
Despite it all, she smiled.
The General heard the hammer fall and the crackle of a spark as the bullet launched through the barrel, followed swiftly by a big…
The God Complexes 