Bane Page 3

  A causeway passed through the quarantine ring and into the suburbs the survivors had claimed. A large building with an adjacent guardhouse was set up fifty yards before the gates, staffed by armed forces in hermetic suits. They greeted the Jugs and the civilians being escorted, and for all their precautions, they welcomed the Jugs like old friends.

  “Hey, you made it! You’re our first batch this spring!” The first one out of the guardhouse cheered before he introduced himself. “Gillett Morris, Chief of Clean Zone Perimeter Security. Glad to see you!”

  “Delta Company reporting. We’ve got fifteen survivors for you to take off our hands,” Schuyler said as Darius and Xolani hung back with Rhys. She didn’t bother to look their way, but her voice held a note of disdain as she continued, “And, as requested, we’ve brought in the asymptomatic survivor we’ve been sheltering for testing.”

  Four hooded heads turned to stare at Rhys. The sun reflected off their masks, making them seem featureless. He suppressed a shudder.

  “You’re the one they sent the report about?” Morris asked, stepping closer. “Possibly immune?”

  Rhys’s words abandoned him, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He looked from Darius to Xolani in alarm, and Xolani strode forward, putting him a little behind her as she spoke.

  “Possibly. The extenuating circumstances were explained in our report. We don’t want anyone getting false hope about the chance of immunity when we have no idea what’s going on in his cells.”

  Morris nodded. “The DPRP scientists will deal with that. Secretary Littlewood himself issued the order; we’re just here to give the refugees their intake interviews and questionnaires. But it’s damn good to see all of you again.”

  “Order?” Xolani’s voice grew cold. “We’re not Clean Zone citizens, remember? We don’t answer to the DPRP. We brought Cooper here as a courtesy because we don’t want to see another outbreak, but let’s keep in mind that he’s here voluntarily, okay?”

  “Right. Of course.” Morris actually sounded embarrassed. Rhys didn’t know what had happened when the Jugs had been exiled, but he got the impression that they had been pretty much shafted by the new government. If the way he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet was any indication, this Morris guy agreed. “At any rate, I know no one wants any false hopes raised, but they’re all really excited about the potential here. Wallace, go to DPRP headquarters and let them know he’s arrived.”

  One of the suited guards left, and the others escorted them into the building. The interior was fairly spartan. A large lounge with comfortable chairs and sofas led off to a series of glassed-in cubicles. Rations and water had been laid out and the Jugs were told to make themselves at home, and then the civilians were escorted—with the exception of women with children—into separate cubicles. More people in hermetic suits arrived with clipboards and sat down across from them, presumably conducting interviews.

  “I thought you guys didn’t get along with the people in the Clean Zone,” Rhys murmured as they settled in.

  Darius shrugged. “Perimeter Security’s a little different. We fought beside a lot of them during the overthrow, and they weren’t much happier than we were when the new congress kicked us out. They’re mostly good people, usually happy to see us.”

  Rhys sat on a sofa between Darius and Xolani, twisting his hands nervously in his lap, until he felt Darius lay an arm across the back of the sofa behind his shoulders.

  Xolani patted his knee, speaking with the guards who remained with them. “Since when does the DPRP interview the incoming civilians?”

  “Started after that business with Charlie Company,” Morris said. He looked rather absurd sitting there, still in his hermetic suit, as if he were having tea with them. His voice was strange and muffled. “I’m not sure what all the DPRP techs ask them. Probably making sure there’s not any chance that they’ve, y’know, become Jugs themselves.”

  The Jugs all tensed, though Rhys wasn’t sure if it was because of the implication that the Jugs were infecting their charges or the reminder of what had happened with Charlie Company six years ago. The company had gone rogue and started enslaving the civilians they were supposed to be protecting and escorting to the Clean Zone. The rest of the Jugs had been forced to take action, going to battle against people they’d considered their brothers and sisters.

  “We don’t mess with the survivors,” Darius rumbled. The guard looked rather pointedly at the way Darius had his arm nearly around Rhys’s shoulders. “What happened with Rhys here is a different story. No one in Delta Company has touched a civvie except for that situation, and the reasons why we made an exception in those circumstances were included in our report.”

  “Well.” Morris cleared his throat again, the sound echoey in the small speaker that transmitted his voice. “That may be the case, but we can’t be sure all the other companies are holding to that. It’s just a precaution.”

  One of the other guards snorted. “Ask me, they should be worrying more about the people who have been leaving the Clean Zone.”

  “What?” Xolani sat up straighter. “Who’s been leaving the Clean Zone?”

  “Just a few here and there,” Morris said dismissively. “Tucker here is just worried because one of them was a friend of his.”

  “Why would they leave?” Schuyler asked, sitting forward in her chair. Rhys noticed Emmy was watching her almost as closely as Darius tended to watch him.

  Morris shrugged. “Not sure why. I think some of them think that since the region is now completely free of revs, they’ll be okay living elsewhere. Guess it doesn’t matter, so long as they don’t come back.”

  “There’s also been a lot more protest about the Genetic Diversity Mandate as the population grows,” the third remaining guard said. “Not everyone likes being forced to spread their genes around, even if it’s just by donation.”

  The guard Morris had called Tucker gave the third one a look Rhys couldn’t read through the mask. “Yeah, try having a uterus and bitching about that, Alvarez.”

  “What?” Xolani went rigid beside Rhys. “Have they expanded the GDM to require any citizen with a uterus to gestate?”

  Tucker nodded. “The claim that they wouldn’t attach that requirement to the GDM went out the window pretty quickly after the mandate was signed into law. My name’s in the lottery again next year for being inseminated. It’ll be my third time, and my wife isn’t at all pleased to have to deal with a pregnant husband again.”

  Every Jug in the room with a uterus looked ready to shred something, and the others hardly seemed any happier. The tension grated across Rhys’s already frayed nerves, and he desperately wanted to ask what they were talking about, but one glance at Xolani’s and Schuyler’s faces convinced him silence was the better option.

  “I did not,” Schuyler growled, “help overthrow the Cheyenne Mountain Martial Law Committee so that the civilian government that replaced them could start forcing citizens to act as incubators!”

  “Jesus. Thank God Jamie isn’t here,” Toby muttered behind Rhys, referring to one member of Darius’s squad who had stayed behind to help with Delta Company’s move. “He’d mount an assault on the Clean Zone single-handedly if he heard about this shit. All the times he’s had to have an abortion when he wants a baby so bad his heart is breaking and they’re forcing people here to be pregnant against their wills?”

  “He’ll surely hear about it when we get to Lewis-McChord and fill the rest of Delta Company in on what we’ve heard here.” Xolani spat a curse. “How widespread are the protests?”

  “Rumblings here and there,” Morris answered. “You know, mostly the people are still devoted to rebuilding, though a lot of the nationalist sentiment we saw after the overthrow has faded. Not everyone’s happy with the way things are being done. My wife doesn’t want any more children, either, especially since we’ve maxed out our particular genetic pairing so any others we have will be by insemination from other donors. But no one is discus
sing any drastic measures.” He rubbed his face mask, an almost unconscious gesture, as though he would have been scratching his cheek if the hood hadn’t been in place. “The Clean Zone Congress has assured us that the expiration clause on the GDM will not be extended. Ten more years and we’ll be well into the second generation reproducing, and it won’t be necessary anymore.”

  “It’s not necessary now! The GDM was instituted back when the population was a fraction of what it is today, but even then you still had more than enough people for genetic sustainability.” Xolani’s clenched fists came down on the arm of the sofa hard enough that Rhys heard the wood under the upholstery crack. “It was a knee-jerk reaction to an astronomical death-to-live-birth ratio. But that was a direct result of mismanagement, and lack of supplies and infrastructure, when the Martial Law Committee was still in charge.”

  “The suicide rate for survivors after the pandemic wasn’t helping either,” Toby muttered.

  Xolani nodded a distracted agreement. “True. But the point is, it was a call made by politicians who didn’t know jack shit about science. And now, with better living conditions and all the survivors we’ve recovered, there have to be, what, ten thousand adult citizens in the Clean Zone?”

  “Close: 8,954 at the annual census; 12,572, total population,” Tucker replied. “We’ve got close to a thousand babies being born each year now. People who were just children when the Clean Zone was established are starting to hit reproductive maturity, and we’ve got a couple hundred new refugees coming through quarantine every spring and fall.” He shook his head, sounding disgusted, or so it seemed from what Rhys could tell through his suit. “The only reason the congress hasn’t repealed the GDM is because no one is protesting very loudly. They feel secure. They have adequate shelter, comfort, enough to eat. No one wants to risk that.”

  “How old do people have to be before they go into the lottery to gestate?” Schuyler demanded.

  “Sixteen,” Morris answered. “My wife’s eldest was four at the time of the rebellion, so she just came of age. But she got pregnant by her boyfriend before we had to deal with her going into the lottery. As long as any able-bodied citizen is carrying a pregnancy to term at least once every four years, or has had six live births—no more than three of which can be with the same genetic partner—they can stay out of the lottery.”

  Xolani hissed between clenched teeth, looking as furious as Rhys had ever seen her. “Fuck. There’s absolutely no reason for these draconian measures. Is there any way I can address the Congressional Science Committee while we’re here? If no one has filled them in on the realities of genetic diversification, then I will.”

  “Perimeter Security is under the DPRP umbrella since quarantine maintenance falls under pandemic prevention, but I know someone on the congressional clerical staff who works for the Science Committee. I’ll pass on your request.” Morris gave her what looked like a grateful nod. “My wife sure would be happy not to have to carry another one—” He broke off when the door opened and two people wearing hermetic suits walked in. “Wallace, is this . . .?”

  “One of the DPRP medical techs,” Wallace answered. “He’s supposed to take the subject to one of the quarantine units and get some intake information before testing begins.”

  Quarantine unit? Rhys trembled and fumbled beside Darius until he brought his hand down from the back of the sofa and laced their fingers. “Relax, boy. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

  “Mr. Cooper?” The other suited man stepped forward, extending a gloved hand. After a moment of hesitation, Rhys stood and wiped his palms on his fatigues before shaking it.

  “I’m Zach,” the man said. “I’m going to be interviewing you, settling you into your quarters, and drawing some blood. Nothing scary at all. Once we get the results of your blood work, the DPRP researchers will have a better idea how to proceed.”

  Rhys looked rapidly between Darius and Xolani, trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth to protest, but Xolani spoke up first.

  “He’s not going alone,” she said firmly. “And he’s not staying in the quarantine ring. We’ll bring him in for testing, but he makes camp with us outside the Clean Zone at the end of the day.”

  “The DPRP has set up quarters specifically for testing him, including putting him on the same ventilation circuit as animals known to be able to contract the Bane virus,” Zach explained. “If he doesn’t stay there, we won’t know whether he’s capable of spreading the virus in its airborne form.”

  “Too bad. Come on, Rhys, we’re leaving.” Xolani rose and gestured for him to accompany her, and Rhys followed.

  Darius stood and fell into step beside him. “Let’s go, people,” he barked. “Schuyler, you’ll stay here until you’re done handing over your civvies. We’ll meet you by the lake.”

  Titus, Toby, and Joe all rose and spread out behind them, surrounding Rhys as if afraid that they would try to take him by force.

  “You can’t leave, Xolani,” Schuyler protested, coming to her feet. “We can’t. Not yet. Not until you talk to the Science Committee. They’re turning people into incubators.”

  “Goddamn it.” Xolani hung her head, muttering to herself as Darius made an irritated sound beside Rhys. Then she turned to look at him. “She’s right, Darius. Permission for me to detach and remain here while you take Rhys away from here?”

  “Granted,” Darius said with a short nod.

  “Please—” Zach held up a hand in what Rhys assumed was meant to be a placating gesture. It would have worked better without the hermetic suit. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you all how important this might be, if Mr. Cooper is immune. What can I do to reassure you that he’ll be all right staying in the quarters we’ve prepared for him?”

  Rhys looked between Darius and Xolani again, distressed. He didn’t want to cause any worry, and Xolani was right. He needed to consider how they would feel if they lost him. They had taken so much time and care to get him away from the monastery and bring him back to health and give him a home. He couldn’t risk himself, and yet he couldn’t turn his back on the possibility that he might be able to somehow help prevent any future outbreak of the plague. The United States population had been reduced to the twelve thousand people here, not including the Jugs and survivors not yet recovered. Another outbreak could ensure the complete extinction of humanity on the North American continent.

  He straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and cleared his throat as he faced Zach head-on. “I won’t go alone. I want these five Jugs who accompanied me to come as well, and only until you don’t need me to breathe on your lab animals anymore.”

  “Hey, now!” Wallace stepped toward them, his gloved hand tight on the strap of the weapon slung over his shoulder, as though he thought he might need to grab it. The other guards—except Perimeter Security Chief Morris—flanked him, looking equally alert. “Jugs aren’t allowed past the outer perimeter. That’s the law.”

  “Stand down,” Morris snapped at him. “We don’t threaten Jugs. These people did us a favor bringing Cooper here. They don’t answer to us, especially after the way we treated them. If Cooper wants to walk, we let him.”

  The Jugs gave Morris looks of varying surprise, but Rhys’s attention was focused on the DPRP stooge. He turned a cool look toward Zach. “You asked what you could do to assure me I’d be safe. This is it. If the DPRP wants to test me badly enough, they’ll make an exception. The quarantine ring is safe for keeping potentially infected civvies away from the population, so it should be safe for keeping Jugs away, as well.”

  Zach shuffled uncomfortably. “I can—” He cleared his throat and began again. “I can take this back to the department. It might require Secretary Littlewood’s approval, and that could take a while.”

  “Then I guess you’d better get a move on, son,” Darius snapped. “We’re not going to wait around forever for the DPRP to get their hands off their dicks and decide. You’ve got seven days, then we leave. We’ll be camped
by the lake until then.”

  Zach took a breath to brace himself, then knocked on the door of the quarantine unit that had been remodeled as a testing facility for Rhys Cooper. The number of refugees coming through quarantine had dwindled in the decade since the Jugs had started their operations, so the unit was in an all-but-abandoned portion of the quarantine ring. It kept the other uninfected separate from this one survivor, since they had no way of knowing yet whether or not his exposure to the Bane virus made him contagious.

  He pressed a fist against the knot that had formed just below his sternum and closed his eyes, whispering a brief prayer until he felt calm again. He needed to let God guide him to the right thing to say. This was too important to let his fears and doubts sabotage him.

  Secretary Littlewood had been livid when Zach had brought word that Cooper and the Jugs were digging their heels in about where Cooper would be housed. At first, the intensity of his rage had left Zach deeply uneasy because he didn’t know if his failure to persuade Cooper would undo his years of work ingratiating himself with Littlewood and the upper echelon of the DPRP. But while Littlewood had arranged for Cooper and his Juggernaut escort to be quartered together within the quarantine ring, more profound misgivings had taken root in Zach’s brain.

  Littlewood’s fury went beyond the frustration of clinical and scientific ambitions. While his excessive irritation could actually result in an amazing breakthrough in bringing to light the secret agenda Zach suspected Littlewood of advancing, it could only benefit Zach if he was willing to risk putting Rhys Cooper in harm’s way after he’d promised the young man he’d be safe.

  Zach’s churning thoughts were interrupted as the short, olive-skinned Jug with the scarred face and silver-shot braid answered the door. She was familiar, as were several other Jugs; he was sure he’d seen her around in the months it had taken for the military personnel barricaded inside Cheyenne Mountain to surrender. She probably wouldn’t recognize him even if she saw him out of his suit, though. Ten years had passed, after all, and he hadn’t interacted very closely with many of the Jugs during the standoff when he’d lived with Nico. Right now, she was looking at Zach like he was something she would snap in two if she didn’t like what he had to say. She was every bit as formidable this afternoon as she had been the day before when she’d refused to let him take Cooper to his quarters.