1-04 – A Kind of Purgatory
The Campaigner
Part I
Chapter 4 – A Kind of Purgatory
December 9, 2019
Sedro-Woolley, WA (Population: Unknown)
Awake. Refreshed. Good to go.
Celestia advised me to leave most of my kit here. Fair, to an extent. The equipment would attract Ludds on the road more than some basic clothes might. The guy who lived in that home dressed in my size, and was clean. Thanks bud. Simple, functional, durable stuff. Green soft-shell jacket. Black sweater. Tan cargos.
I wouldn't need to bring any food, the town of Concrete wasn't far. Some other survivor would probably need the pantry there, sixteen days from then. Good luck to 'em, said I, and eat well.
I found a duffel bag in the garage. Filled it with my kit, and stacked some crates so I could hide it in the loft, just in case Celestia's predictions were bunk again.
Left: my AR, vest, uniform, gas mask, radio, earpiece, taser, rifle mags, duty belt.
Kept: Glock, cuffs and key, thigh holster, backpack, boots. First aid kit in the backpack with two tourniquets, shears, gauze, disinfectant, other minor stuff.
When I got to my patrol keys, I held them up with an amused smirk. Useless now, eh? I thought so too, so I chucked 'em into the bushes out back. No one will ever find 'em or even figure out what they're for, and I sure didn't need 'em. And I knew I was never going back to Mount Vernon again.
Celestia said there was a chance that I'd need to escort some folks to a clinic when all was said and done, and Sedro had the closest clinic. And sure, I'd play bodyguard at the end if that's what it took. On my way back though, I'd recover this gear before it did any harm.
Strangely, Celestia had also advised me not to bring my Glock, despite that escort advisement. But, she was vague in explaining to me exactly what would happen if I did. I now knew she could predict out a significant ways, so I was not going to accept any vague nonsense from her anymore. If she couldn't come up with a pinpoint, precise, well reasoned series of events that led to that gun being dangerous somehow? A series of events I could verify step-by-step, the entire way?
Well... if she knew my future, she could just tell me why, right? She could plan around the risk, so I could keep my gun for my own safety anyway, because that was a non-negotiable sticking point for me. Because... check this. Flat out?
I was neck-deep in Ludd country with them literally gunning for me. I would not concede my gun. I knew I would never misuse it, so if having it was a risk, I deserved to know how. But I still had a family to go back home to, and I'm never going to abdicate their right to see me. Ever. For anyone. And I'd sooner walk off the job than go unarmed into a dangerous place, unless I was sure and certain that I'd walk back out of it.
But, she wanted to be vague. I knew Celestia could predict the future by simulating every brain in the area, but she wanted to play the vague fortune teller game. So she either knew enough to plan this mission carefully, or she didn't, and I shouldn't be there. Period.
And of course, that's not the whole story there, she was running a different kind of game.
That is where my head was though, at the time. That I was out-reasoning her.
Now, I'm told, that anything Celestia did was purposeful, to mean something deeper. And there's truth in that, sure. If you were frustrated with her, she wanted you frustrated. I guess we've all had a heck of a lot of time to think about it though, yeah? Try making that connection early on. Odds are, you wouldn't, unless it served some interest of hers.
I wasn't quite to the point of seeing Celestia's whole game with me. Not quite. I'd need just a little bit more training data for that. Fortunately, I wouldn't have to deal with her special blend of evasive persuasion for very much longer. After this job, I was done giving her prissy, porcelain face the time of day. I knew it at the moment, too.
I grabbed some car keys from a hook in the kitchen. Gray sedan, a little dusty, engine knocked a bit, but it ran. It only needed to get me to Concrete. The garage door shuttered up with the clicker. I checked my backpack, made sure I had my phones and charging cables, then dumped the bag into the passenger seat.
Then, I drove around the poor, never-to-be-used-again speedboat out front. Closed the garage.
"You'll see some heavy traffic on the road," said Celestia, from one of the two phones. "Don't allow that to alarm you too much; they are all evacuating the area. No one will want to stop you between here and there."
"Ludds aren't doing some… PonyPad checkpoint, again?"
"No, that would be a significant risk to them," Celestia told me. "Many of those fleeing the area, like you, are armed."
"Nice to know that's the only thing stopping them," I muttered sarcastically.
I had once heard a story from a military veteran about warlords running prayer checkpoints in Afghanistan... where if a civilian prayed the wrong way, the warlord's people just shot them. Not sure how true that was, but when I had learned about those stupid tech checkpoints, that's where my mind went. Rumor has it, they had done a lot of 'tech checks' in the Valley. It was making more and more sense now that we never got any confirmed reports of anyone being caught with a PonyPad, but regardless. That is the context for my concern.
Look, I know this is all getting kinda dark. Won't all be, I promise, hang in there; there's a lot of light ahead in the future of this story. But it was a civil war zone, there was an AI playing around inside everyone's heads, and the Cascades were trying to balkanize. Dark is how it goes for now. Sorry.
True to Celestia's word, it was cars for miles. Sun was still low, wasn't quite dawn yet. I made it to Concrete in half an hour, no issues. Celestia gave me directions to the correct house. A while back, Eliza had given me the address to her dad's place, but… I had honestly lost the note page in the hospital. Wasn't a great time in my life, Sandra and I had other concerns.
Before getting Celestia's brief, my original plan in checking up on Eliza was to just see if there was anyone living in Concrete at all, then go from there. Maybe break into the county clerk's office, for records on addresses. Very small town, original population was around seven hundred. Now, a nebulous zero. I saw no one but the convoys. Without Celestia's warning, I might've just missed the prep camp and went right on home to Nebraska. I'll give her that, she made sure I found my way.
I cut the lights on the car about a minute before I pulled into Eliza's driveway, to mask my approach.
"Phones into your bag, please," Celestia said.
"Yep. Far down. Bank, chargers, crank. Got it. You really sure she won't search me?" I frowned. "If she's really gone blackout, she'll throw a fit."
Celestia's voice turned very somber. "No. She will not search you."
"Good," I sighed. "I'm pretty sure I'll break her heart here, no matter how this goes."
Celestia didn't answer that.
I sat in the car for a minute to organize my bag before I looked up at the family home. Then, I just shook my head. I finally took in the sight of it. White siding, black roof. I had never actually dropped in to see her here, despite coming out to the area with her for work. Eliza really wanted to keep work separate from her home life. I fully understood why once I had learned about what happened to her little sister. Hard to build new strong attachments after something like that.
Sun was coming up. I put the parking break on and slung the backpack.
I stepped out into the cold. Looked south, could see the road and all the light from the cars. My breath fogged on the wind.
"I believe she would have left the front door unlocked," Celestia said quietly, from the bag. "To deter break-ins."
I stepped up the porch and twisted the handle. Sure enough, it opened.
Sentimental to the last, eh Eliza? Didn't want some scumbag kicking in your front door to search for food and guns? Better to let them in, have their look, find an empty kitchen, then bounce without doing any damage?
My chest hurt, at that. Felt guilty at that, for a couple of different reasons.
"Any risk of those cars stopping?" I asked.
"They want to escape future blast sites," Celestia replied, as I stepped through.
"Right. Makes sense. They know less about you than I do."
The place really was empty. The furniture was still there, some of it. The living room swept left, couch there on the back wall, opposite from the window. The kitchen swept right, table set there. No photos on the walls, but plenty of bright spots where they used to be, including a very clean white outline of a crucifix on the kitchen wall. Eliza had taken everything off the walls and up to the camp, of course. Looked very similar to how she had left her home in Sedro-Woolley.
"Pretty sure I don't need to sweep-and-clear the place anymore," I muttered, realizing too late that if anyone were inside, they'd already know I was present and in the company of the AI. Celestia's voice had a way of being recognizable, and the rooms had a slight echo to them. And there it was, my guard lowered because this was personal. That's how it usually goes with personal affairs. "What's next?"
"At present? Wait. Apex is unaware of the nuclear incident. She will likely come down to town to investigate the road activity, and will find you here on her own."
It was also really bothering me that she wouldn't call my friend by her preferred name. It was a little bit like dead-naming her. Pissed me off. Affected my tone. "What else? What do I do? What do I say? I'm running blind here."
"When she tells you about her camp, I would recommend accusing her of being with the Neo-Luddites. This comparison will perturb her, and make her more amenable to evacuation. We need her against their interests."
I set my bag down on the couch. "So you want me to leverage her," I growled. "Not… hear her out? Active listening, Celestia, you ever hear of it? Does that mean anything to you?"
"It is critical that you reinforce her biases against their organization. She's putting many lives at risk here with her uncertainty," Celestia reminded me. "We do not have time for anything else; I am sorry, but the road you want to follow leads to a greater number of fatalities."
I sat down on the couch, sighing.
"I'll be going dark now, Mike."
No time for anything else. Right. I already felt like I was running through a minefield blind. YGA was right, Celestia would never tell me the whole truth. Never would respect me in a way that mattered. She waited until things were at their snap point again. I never knew which step was going to blow this whole mission wide open, and get dozens of people killed. If she knew I would be useful here, she had to know how I'd be useful, right? And that pissed me off too, that she wouldn't say how.
But... I try to be fair. I try to give benefit of the doubt, I presume miscommunication before I change tactics, and I ask clarifying questions to ensure I do my best to communicate clearly. So... one last olive branch to this friggin' AI. Just in case.
"No other parting words of wisdom for me? Nothing... more definite? Not even a 'good luck?' Or something?"
She didn't answer.
Guess not. Just had to hope and pray I wouldn't screw this up.
I dozed. Two hours later, I awoke to a buzz. My bag vibrated me awake.
My brow furrowed as I sat up, immediately startled. God damn it, Celestia! I threw a panicked look up to see if anyone was outside on the porch, then I desperately rummaged down into my backpack. When I found the offending tech, it wasn't my phone, but Vicky's. "What the hell do you want?" I snarled, before I actually looked at the screen.
Talk to your father. Please don't hang up on him, your mission will be safe. No one will hear. Trust me, you have time.
~YGA 🛡️
I blinked. Several times. I didn't have time to process the full implications of that message; the message blipped out, and the phone began to ring.
I tried to recover a bit, swallowing, my throat going dry again, my eyes flicking to the front door. I sighed hard, trying to dump my emotions and reframe myself a little. I jammed the answer button, dread simmering into my heart.
"H—Hello? Dad?"
"Hey… mijo."
By his tone, I was reminded of the time Dad told me about when my uncle had... died, a few years back.
Blackness doused all of my hope.
"Dad? What's wrong? What happened?"
A pause. "Nothing's… happened, Mike. Not yet."
No. No. Not yet. Not yet, please. My head started to shake. God damn you, Celestia. What the fuck did you do?
"Okay," I breathed with the gentlest of tones, despite the explosive anger in my head. The silence hung.
"So… the news is getting… pretty bad. They say the EMP took out power in Seattle. People are flying up the coast, up from California, and west into Washington, sneaking past the Army. They want to get clear of tech, to hide there. And… they're talking about… casualties. Lots of people dying there, mijo. More than my heart can bear."
"I'm not gonna die, Dad. Not gonna. It's not as bad where I'm at. I'm gonna go meet some friends. People here, they're just... more scared than angry. I—I was just on the road, this morning. Saw… dozens of people. No one tried to hurt me."
"That's just it, Mike. The ones leaving are gonna be refugees. They're not gonna upload, since, why wouldn't they do it there? They're gonna show up mad, that rage is gonna spread out like it did there. So it's gonna be really hard out here too, eventually. So your mother and I... we've talked it over, last night. Slept on it. And…"
I bit my tongue, mouth closed, panting quietly through my nostrils. I had to hear him out. Despite every single impulse to beg him not to do it, I had to let it run its course. Let him get it all out. It was the only way.
Dad sighed. "Son…"
I kept silent. He wanted me to say the quiet part for him, I wasn't gonna do that. Cop Mike's suggestion.
If he really wants to go do that, he has to be the one to say it. Has to own it.
He sighed again. "It's gonna be two weeks until you get back. We're not even sure we have two weeks."
Don't balk. Hold the line.
"Mike?"
"I'm here."
"We want to go, Mike. We were thinking about doing it today."
I thought. Hard. Tragically, I knew there was very little I could say. Against... nukes? Even small ones? Magnificently powerful leverage. The active listening trick bought me tons of negotiation pull, but it wasn't going to be enough. I think.
"Is… Sandra going with you, too?"
That... would have killed me.
"No. Just us."
I licked my lips. "Us being… you? And Mom? Just the two of you?"
"That's right, mijo."
I buried my face in my hand, and I won't lie. I sobbed, once. I didn't mean to. Dad heard it though.
"Mike… I'm sorry."
Now. Has to be now. Stem the tide. Do something.
"I don't mind, Dad... if you go," I said, trying not to choke up. "I don't wanna stand between… you and… being safe. Couldn't live with myself, doing that. But… Dad? I wanna hug you both, one more time. I… I don't know if I'm ready to go, I don't think I am. So… I'm gonna make you a promise."
"Okay?"
"I'm gonna call you. In a week. Not two. One. And I'll tell you if I'm done, and coming home, and when I'll be home. This, Dad, I swear to you. And if I don't call? Then go. Go, and don't feel bad about it. But compromise with me, Dad. I know you're scared." I winced, and shuddered. "I—I'm scared too, believe me, I'm here, in it. But… don't do something you can't take back. Please? Don't do something we'll both regret. All I'm asking for is a week. Then I'll meet you there, yeah? At the clinic? I'll say goodbye to you, and Mom too, properly. Maybe…" I chuckled hopefully, despite myself, tears budding in my eyes. "Maybe dinner, first? Or something? Something nice. You, me, Mom, Sandra. A family. Together. Please."
I stopped then, to compose myself. I wished I hadn't been crying. I didn't want to use my hurt to leverage him at all, I wished I'd kept myself better, but I couldn't help but feel it pour into my every word. It was a waterfall, that feeling. It just kept pouring, and pouring, getting worse the more I talked, dragging me under. That fear. Terror, really. That I'd just come home and they'd all just be… gone.
I realized right then, as I looked around my best friend's empty, soulless living room. Is this what Eliza felt like? It must have been. I stopped crying immediately, my eyes went wide. The thought sobered me instantly. I thought...
Holy shit. How many times did she have this conversation? Two? Three times? No wonder she's out here, picking a stupid place. No small wonder at all. Blind in a minefield too, but for years. This feels like Hell.
"Okay. A week, Mike. Promise."
A light, for me. Some hope.
A chance to hug my parents one last time. To have one more moment with them, like the one I had with Vicky. Rick. Jan. The rest. Some closure, before the jump, for them. One last good moment, one last hug. Just in case.
"Thank you," I whispered. "Dad, thank you."
"I still need to talk with your mother, but… I was the one driving this. She… didn't want to go just yet. She'll be okay too."
"Where is she?"
"On the phone, with some of the other family. But it'll be okay, Mike. Do what you have to do. I'm sorry, mijo. For jumping you with this. I know you're doing something important, but this…"
I shook my head reflexively. "No, Dad. No, I… I'm glad you called first. Thank you. This was important too."
"Thank you, Mike. Love you."
"Love you. I promise. I'll call."
"I know. I have faith in you, Mike. Goodbye, son."
He hung up. I gasped for breath. Cleared my eyes. I stared at Vicky's phone for a minute, breathing slowly until I was composed again. I smiled, genuine and true, down into the camera. I mouthed: "Thank you too. Whoever you are. You're not Celestia, are you? She wouldn't have done that."
Good luck. ♥️🛡️
~YGA
It had disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived.
Another moment passed. I couldn't figure that out. Couldn't. Erving's slip-up about an AI kept knocking around upstairs, but I couldn't figure it out quite yet.
Later. Not enough time. Stow the phone.
I exhaled, buried the phone deep into the bag, and stood up. I went to the kitchen and washed my face, with some stuttering last pushes of water from the faucet. I wanted to look presentable for when things got started.
I turned to look out the kitchen window, when done. Watched the cars. Started to count 'em.
East, plus one. West, minus one. I measured each life as it passed. Some went west, back towards Hell. But most went east. Safer. I was willing to bet some of them were even in that crowd yesterday, too. All of them there had been given more time to make their choice. Nothing would happen to them now, maybe, that couldn't be taken back. I had so much relief at that. So much joy, for those people getting clear, to see the people who still loved them.
It had only been about ten minutes more as I sat in that window, counting lives.
"Mike? Is that you?"
Eliza's voice, raspy and harsh, startled me from outside, as if it were a switchblade flicking open. I wheeled, made eye contact with her through the window, some yards back, down the side of the house. I saw her there: fair skin, green eyes, raven black hair. Her sniper rifle pointed directly at me.
I dove back fast like you wouldn't believe. Adrenaline dump. "Douglas? It's me!"
"Mike? Jesus! I can't believe it!" She sounded so unbelievably happy. I could hear the wide smile on her face. "Don't come out, I have a sniper friend out here. I'm coming in."
Another sniper. It's always snipers.
Alright, deep breaths. Here we go.
I moved to the center of her living room and stood there, patiently waiting. I tried to smile a little too, despite my nervousness. All things considered, pending betrayal included... I really was happy to see her. I was glad she was still alive, despite it all. Glad to hear joy in her voice. Last time I saw her, she looked so dead inside.
My brain was all over the place. Felt like I was standing on stage. Shit, was I even ready for this? I'd never been an undercover, I wasn't prepared for this. Guess I didn't have a choice but to be. Worse, Eliza was like me, kinda. Younger, less experienced, but definitely trained, and raised by a pastor no less... the judo masters of reading people. I was sure she could read almost as well as I could. I'd figured she'd notice something was wrong, work me down, pry my head open, and take a peek inside at the last couple of days.
I usually just kept smiling around family. It's what I'm known for, and what she knows me for. And then... there it was. My role snapped home, because the emotion was real, and it wasn't a role anymore.
Yes. I was happy to see Eliza again.
She opened the door, rifle in hand. Her face? Pure, total, absolute, genuine, joyous love. And to that, I held my arms out for a big hug, and smiled as big as I could, as she tossed her rifle aside and threw herself at me.
Mind... I'd seen her happy a lot, in flashes between stoic runs of neutrality. But I'd never, ever seen Eliza this happy. Not once. Far as I knew, this is where we peaked. Elated to see me, of all people. Her work friend. And... I knew why me being there made her so happy. I'd always known it would be this way. I knew this would happen before I had even set foot through that door.
Before the PON-E Act passed, she was always kinda quiet at work, but not negative. She loved her job. Loved nature. Loved to patrol with me. Kept her business to herself, because it wasn't mine. And I never, ever pressed her for more. She was always the one sharing, when she was ready. She really loved that about me, for giving her space, and enabling her at her own stride.
So... a year ago almost to the day, when that bill made uploading legal, she finally confided it to me. Not all at once, but in little disconnected pieces. She told me about her little sister going first, Gale, in 2016. Later, on our last day at work together, at her therapist's suggestion... she talked about her little brother, Tom, day one in 2019. Her ex-fiance, George, same day. And she didn't say as much, but I figured, through intuition, that she must have played Equestria Online herself at some point. The loss of her sister must've put a stop to that real quick.
Before the bill passed... I was there for her. After the bill, I was there for her. I wasn't attached to her family drama back home. I wasn't attached to her heartache. Wasn't a source of pain. I was one big happy, anchored center of stability. Security. Trust. A good ear. A good friend. The one thing she could count on that would never change on her. Would never leave her.
So when she saw me here, in her house, waiting for her, long after she thought she'd never see me again? After she had probably written me off? Of course she'd scream, jump, hug me tight, lose her mind with joy. Out of all the people she'd loved that she'd lost up until that point, to Celestia? I was the only one who came back.
So, to know that I had phones in my bag, as I hugged her... betraying her like this already, letting Celestia read her mind like this... It made my heart hurt more than my chest did, from her hug.
God. What am I doing?
She squeezed me long enough for me to get my face in check. I reached back out for my true happiness to see her, until the smile came back. I winced a little, because the pain in my cartilage was real, and so it was a good mask for how I was feeling, because that was real too.
That was the trick, of course. Use my real feelings to turn the role real.
"You're alive!" she hooted excitedly, when she could finally stop laughing. "How the hell did you find me?"
"You gave me your address, dummy," I said. "Ow, watch it... my chest."
"I know, I mean..." She bobbed her head firmly, beaming up at me, showing all her teeth. "Wow, am I glad to see you!"
I smiled back. "Glad to see you too, Douglas."
She held my shoulders, glancing me up and down to get a real good look at me, her eyes lingering on my chest with a sympathetic little wince of her own. "Are you okay? How've you been?"
I rubbed at my chest, to pop the bits back into place. "I'm fine. The cartilage in my chest kind of crackles a bit when I touch it, but I'll live."
The hospital did their best. Best they could, with reserve surgeons and student RNs. Chest never set right, never healed right. Wasn't bad enough to get me desked, but back then, they needed every cop they could get when the riots started. So who knows what might've happened to my career had the end of the world not come.
Her smiling was just infectious, and wonderful. "I guess that's better than the alternative," she said, green eyes aglow. "You could be dead. I thought I'd never see you again! How long have you been here?"
I dropped myself into the couch and let myself relax, sinking into it. Looked her over. Her eyes moved to my backpack briefly, and it was just through sheer preparedness for that inevitability that I didn't flinch. "Since this morning," I said. "Hope you don't mind. The roads are nuts right now, so I decided to hunker down until nightfall."
Eliza smirked at me. "In my house?"
"I wanted to see you off. I hoped you'd come back here out of Sedro, or something."
"Mike, I haven't lived in Sedro since... March."
She said the name of the city so casually, like it wasn't the edge of Hell on Earth.
"Oh," I muttered. "Oh, you moved back here."
Eliza nodded. "Same day as the firefight. Got out quick."
I frowned. "Yeah, well, that wasn't a bad idea, Douglas. Things got pretty bad in Mount Vernon. My wife got out of Washington a month ago. As soon as it's clear, I'm doing the same."
She looked at me like the idea of me leaving Washington was unimaginable. "Wait. Out of Washington? What do you mean? How bad is this war getting?"
I sat up and looked Douglas in the eyes, realizing I should look a little confused that she didn't know. I wasn't supposed to know she was a blackout yet. Bad news time. Let's see if it's this easy to get her gone. "The... the bomb?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Wh—what bomb?"
"You seriously don't know? How do you not know?"
She shook her head in tiny little left-rights. "No. What, did... did we...?"
My gaze fell.
Yeah. I had just made a mess up there. She was trying to figure out how this changed her living situation. Whether it put her people at risk. I took a deep breath and decided to rip the band aid off. Hard truth was always easier to digest when it came from someone you loved.
"A nuke went off in Bellevue, Eliza. A small one. A lot of people are... dead, or trapped. If it wasn't a war zone before, it is now."
When I glanced up, I saw that her eyes had gone glassy; thousand yard stare. "Wh—when...?"
"Yesterday. I didn't even bother going south, just took to the Valley since it was the closest way out. Glad I did, too. The news says people going south toward the blast zone are getting killed, and quick."
Eliza finally moved to sit next to me, past the rifle leaning on the far cushion. Her eyes locked onto me again. "Who? Who did it? Are there more bombs coming?"
I shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe. No one knows who did it yet, but it's all over the media. I'm still surprised you don't know."
"I've been living in the hills with my family," she said. "Off the grid. It's safe there... or it was. I don't know now, after this."
And there it is.
Okay. The worst part. Accuse.
"Wait. Off the grid?" I looked at her, with a sudden start. "Are you—are you with the rebels?! They tried to kill us, Eliza."
Her hands went up, conversation-defensive. Her head shook. Because that was the last thing she wanted me to think. "No, no! Look, we're just blackouts. My uncle, me, Mom, Dad. We're with a bunch of our neighbors, and their kids."
Kids...
She continued. "It just wasn't safe in town anymore. We just wanted to get away from technology. Our camp is way off the main road. We've got food, shelter. A school. An armory. We're just ready."
Armory...
"Ready for what? You're prepping with a compound? Are you looting, too?"
"Just scavenging!" Eliza said, waving her hands in a placating gesture. "And only at homes that're abandoned, I swear. Practically the whole town uploaded, and Lord knows there's a lot of empty homes out here in the Valley," she said sadly. "Enough to go around for everyone. You and I both know there's not enough game to poach."
Yeah... empty homes for miles. She wasn't wrong. That bit made... sense. Only, no. It didn't. Wasn't sustainable, not at all. Even if they weren't about to get hit, they wouldn't last long if they were depending on canned food and local resources. They weren't the only ones who were looting.
"Jeez..." I frowned. "How many people?"
"Fifty-four, last headcount."
And there it was. The headcount Celestia asked for. But I didn't ask for Celestia. I asked for myself. I wanted to know exactly how many people were dangling over a pit, because I wanted to save every last one of them if I could. Celestia's aims could go screw themselves. The bullets coming? That's... that's really what I cared about.
Still had to investigate. Continued to hedge for more information.
I started shaking my head, in total disbelief that she was even doing this. She had to know this wasn't going to work, right? There were already holes in their plan, and that's before we got into the position of the place. I thought she was smart. Maybe she wasn't? Or, maybe there was more to this I just couldn't understand, yet. A puzzle to work.
"You should all leave," I said, my voice raising slightly with my frustration. "Leave the state. Head out east, where it's safe. The war's tapering off, the Luddites are tucking tail and running off deep into Seattle. You have an opening right now, a real shot. If you take all your people and—"
She interrupted very gently. "This is our home, Mike. We aren't leaving. And we're safer here than the mid-west."
There she was. Cop Eliza. She saw my desperate, raising volume, my genuine fear for her people, and purposefully spoke quietly to draw me back down, to de-escalate. That was a good tactic. De-escalation meant she was seeking my approval, which might've meant she would listen a little anyway, despite my accusation. It also meant she didn't completely forget what I appreciated in her. I was her FTO, after all.
I drew myself down again. I matched Eliza's tone, taking the olive branch. "How can that be true? I don't understand. If more nukes come..."
"... then we'll die," she finished. "I know. But that can be said for anywhere, and we're not leaving. We're not going anywhere near a computer, or a phone. Not even a radio. Or she'll hunt us down."
Guilt. Hammerblow. Chest.
I had to hide my face from Eliza. This was my tolerance. If I had to look her in the eyes after that, knowing there were phones in my bag, spying on her, I'd crack. Hell, I'd straight up confess. I love her. I really do. Never wanted to hurt her. Wasn't why I was there. I just knew it was... maybe a bleak necessity, to stab her in the back, if it meant that was the only way to save those people. I kept reminding myself of that in every step of this conversation. It was the only way forward.
Had to scout. Had to verify it really was as bad as Celestia said it was, before I did anything. But until then... I just had to get my foot in the door to see for myself how bad it was. Again, I didn't need to commit to anything yet. Just had to play with the cards I had. Which meant being anything but honest with someone I cared about. And that? That stabbed at me.
I scoffed. Stood. Stared out the window at the cars going west. Found my real anger again. To say I was enraged by my lack of preparedness for this mission, by an AI of immeasurable resources, would've been a massive understatement.
"I missed you," Eliza said quietly, from behind me. "Mike."
"Yeah. I missed you too," I replied. The situational frustration made it into my tone, a little.
"Looks like you've had it rough, too."
"Yeah." I frowned. "My parents called me today."
Damn it. Damn it, damn it. Land mine. That came out so naturally... I just mentioned having a God damn phone. My brain was so tied up in what-ifs. I might've just screwed this. Good thing I wasn't looking at her. Roll with it, pivot. Now. I continued, hoping she'd missed it.
"They're scared this is the start of a nuclear war," I continued casually, barely missing a beat, "and they're... going to upload. And honestly, I can't blame them. I'm almost scared enough to consider it too. Almost. Sandra's made her way to Nebraska, staying with my folks. The roads are so violent that I'm not even sure if I can get to her from here."
She stood beside me, at the window. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too," I said. I almost lifted the back of my hand against my mouth briefly, then dropped it half-way up. Changed the topic. "God... you know... we almost died out there in the woods. I don't even know how it happened. One second I was fine. The next, I couldn't see anything. Just blood, and pain. Glass. It hasn't changed out there, either. Those rebels, they're not even people. They're bloodthirsty animals."
"I've run into them a bit out here in recent months, but they never shot at me again. A few of them found our camp though, early on. They spared us because they remembered my tantrum in Mount Vernon." She chuckled. "I guess they thought it was funny."
So, her stint on the news made her a symbol. I turned to look at her, to draw her back to something negative about the Ludds. "Be glad they didn't know about our shootout in the woods. They'd have killed you for sure. I never thanked you, by the way. Killing that sniper... it must have been hard."
"It was," she agreed. "But I'm stronger now, and I can fight. I don't regret it anymore." Eliza frowned suddenly. "Mike, tell me something. Every so often, I see a car going west back towards the coast. Why? Are those more Ludds?"
I sighed. "You're not the only one trying to get away from the AI. The EMP took out the Seattle power grid."
"Oh. Well, that makes sense."
"No," I said. "It really doesn't. It's insane. The area's cooked with radiation and full of partisans. They're all going to get killed. You don't know what it was like. It's still dangerous as close as Sedro, you're just on the outskirts of it all."
She turned pensive. "They're leaving us alone because we're not helping Celestia, though."
"I don't think they discriminate all that much. All I've seen them do is murder. They shot at me a lot, and not just in our shootout. It was insanity back west. Mount Vernon PD's effectively disbanded at this point, we barely pulled out from our last stand."
That surprised her. "What happened?"
"The city was a bloodbath, and those freaks made some sort of roadblock on either end of downtown. Blocking access to the Experience Center, I guess. We holed up at the courthouse. Got surrounded. A path opened up during the fighting, so we took it, and fought our way out. Rifles. Armor. We got clear, thank God, but then we... got separated. I'm still running on fumes here, and I'm pretty sure my luck's gonna run out soon. Damn it, I'm so sick of getting shot at."
"Then stay for a while, Mike. At least until the roads are safer."
I decided to hedge some more. Gave her an out, from what I was doing here. "You really think that's a good idea, with all those terrorists running around? It might be better if I just left." I rubbed at my chest.
"Please?" Eliza asked. So much hope in those eyes. Like a... child. Scared of losing me. The idea of me walking away from her seemed to be almost physically painful for her. Immediately I felt like garbage for engaging loss aversion. Didn't mean to do that. "We could really use someone like you for a few days. It's not a bad place. We have the fish of the lake to live on, what little we have left. We scavenge. It's more than enough."
That... what?
"You still have fish? How?"
Not sure how that was possible. Fish and Wildlife died right before Lake Shannon normally got restocked. But the hatchery program got defunded in 2018. Poaching through that time would've eaten all the fish, long before their camp started.
She shrugged. Stumped too.
Whatever. Question for later. Maybe Celestia knew.
"What about the terrorists?" I asked. "What makes you so sure they'll stay friendly?"
"We have... an understanding. As long as we follow their rules and stick to our side of the dam, we have nothing to worry about. No communications devices, no cars, stay off their land. If we use anything electric at all, they want to inspect it first."
... Well. Celestia could've told me that was going on... that the Ludds had these people under their thumb. Great. Real great. That complicated the shit out of my mission here. Now I needed to worry about them, too. More information in the pile that justified breaking the camp, but also more information to verify that Celestia was playing games with me. She had to know that information would have been relevant to tell me.
I looked out the window again. Again, I decided to hedge. "They may not be around here for much longer, anyway. Seattle's a good hotbed for them right now, the news says they're flocking. I guess... I guess sticking around might not be a bad idea, at least until they're all gone." I held her shoulder, gently. "Alright, Douglas. I'll... consider it. At the least, I'll stay til things calm down. I can't promise any more than that, but..."
Labeled my leaving, was my intent. So it would hurt less when the day came that I would leave.
"That's all I ask." She said, as she smiled at me. "I'm just happy you're still alive."
"You too. Really." I matched her smile. Mood too, best I could. Alright, I was in now. Maybe I just needed to... calm down, for now. Take it easy. Chill. Take in more information. Be myself for a bit, and not a spy. Better to keep the wave rolling into calm.
Okay. Yeah. That's the plan. Stay fluid. Willing to accept. I have around a week. I have time. Slow down.
Eliza stepped back and patted my shoulder. "Come on. Let's go meet Andy. He's probably worried sick."
I smirked, matching her mood. Mirroring. Genuine. "Is that your sniper friend?"
"My boyfriend," she said back, with a smirk of her own. "Not really much of a sniper though. He's more the suppressing fire type."
I snorted suddenly. "I missed you, Douglas."
And it was true.
Their 'sniper' was their small town cop.
Skagit County Sheriff's Deputy Andy Viscotti, the 'sniper.' Alright guy at a glance. Funny guy. He liked to deflect tension with humor, like I did. Bit of a goofball, but I liked that. Small town cops and city cops were very different, but as a former warden, I was something in between, so... we hit it off quick. Our shared history with Eliza made that easy. We traded a couple work stories about her – and with her – on the walk up, once we got clear of the town, and noise discipline was no longer a concern.
I caught a short glimpse of downtown on the way up; we didn't cross through, but past it, from more or less the place where Celestia had shown me. It looked exactly the way Celestia had shown it too, during the briefing. Windows had been shot or blown out, graffiti was everywhere, bullet holes in everything, brown dried stains on a few walls, some scorch marks. The war tore through there hard. The movie theater had the worst damage though, burned out completely. Historically, it wasn't the first fire that killed this town. Wouldn't be the last.
Maybe some short drama played out there, where Ludds or Army holed up in the theater, and one tried to pry the other out. Just a guess. Judging by my experience the day before at the courthouse, I wondered how common that kind of story was out here. Prying each other out of holes. Everyone having a 'good' reason of their own to do it.
Goals aligned.
From our discussions, I discovered that Andy was one of the three camp founders, alongside Eliza's uncle Ralph, and Eliza's mother June. Andy was probably unassailable in his conviction of the place. His tone said it was, and his influence on Eliza would be immense, given they were paired. That complicated things. I realized I needed to think more strategically. Needed to gauge the rest of the family, see if any might help me convince her to leave too. If I could get someone else in the camp to approach her and suggest leaving...
I just wanted to get them to leave before the bullets came, folks. That's all. That's all I really wanted here.
More information required, though. Information Celestia no doubt had in her psych dossiers, but withheld from me, for whatever awful, nebulous reasons she had. I was still not quite there to the answer... still in the dark, about what she was doing with me here. What her... real plan was.
We walked behind the buildings in downtown, then across the bridge. We came to their horses that were tied off at a small house on the other side, and we collected 'em. Then, on foot we went, moving up the path to the dam, all uphill on a paved switchback. Eliza told me a lot, then. Pride flowed through her voice at how well things had shaken out for them. She had developed a scavenging system and a long range sign language, and teams for all sorts of things. She was so excited to show me all of it. I could feel the optimistic energy coming off her in waves.
We came to a blue vehicle gate close to the camp, one the cement company had used to deter people from trespassing their cars up that way. If I still had my warden keys, they'd pop this lock, done it before. Unlike my Mount Vernon set, those warden keys would be mighty useful right now, in post-Singularity Washington... well, they'd be useful for anyone dumb enough to try and survive out in the war zone like this, anyway. I had to wonder if Eliza stole hers on the way out.
Probably did. I didn't ask.
Andy traded watch duty with an older guy in a hidden dugout, up the hill in the brush. I took the reins of Andy's horse, and we traveled past the gate and up the gravel road a ways. Eliza pointed to the first building on our right.
"They used to store equipment for the cement factory here," Eliza said, "back when it ran. Wasn't hard to refurb it, then convert it into a stable."
Then we met their farrier when we put the horses away; the man said he got the horses from some uploaded ranch owners he worked for. Those people had treated him like family, but then... they left him twisting in the wind when they went to the clinic. For some reason, they didn't even tell him. Just disappeared. That had made him feel pretty dejected, and unimportant.
And... I thought of Mom and Dad, and what it might do to me if they left while I was out here. Made me wonder how close I might've come to doing something like this myself, if conditions had been slightly different. I might've been smarter about it, maybe, than to hide inside the war zone. Plenty of places out east to hide in the woods, too.
But, then again, I wasn't born in the Valley. I was used to trans-locating homes. So that's probably why I thought that way.
That farrier's story was gonna be a common story in this camp though, I realized... everyone here was gonna think uploading was death, and this was the safest way to avoid that. They were all going to be hurting together over that, one way or another.
Hurt people did two things when they were exposed to more hurt: they either ran, or they destroyed the source. And hurt, I knew, could make people less tolerant. More prejudicial. More dangerous. Meaning, if I pushed too hard on the wrong one to leave... I could end up shot, or stabbed.
Like Celestia said. Sometimes, fear is worse than malice. And she would know.
Eliza pointed out a small way station ahead, a concrete watch tower with a lookout up top. The guy up top was prone with binoculars, and Eliza said they had someone up there twenty-four-seven. I was at least glad to know that they weren't being completely irresponsible. That kind of initiative would buy them a minute or two to prepare or get clear, if I completely screwed this thing and failed, and the Army came knocking.
I'd seen this factory before too. Their town was named after this factory. These people, culturally... they wore their roots here with pride. Fun fact: any structures in western Washington that were built in the first half of the 20th century? They probably had some material that was made in this building. The place then closed in the 50s, maybe 60s. Devolved then, reclaimed by nature. Once covered in graffiti, broken down... it was a hot mess of a thing.
I liked history. And I knew, through idle Google and YouTube curiosity about my partner's home town, that this old place had once been a magnet for drunk kids and ne'er-do-wells long before Celestia came knocking. And more than that, it had always been dangerous. Pitfalls, flimsy walls, rickety railings, crumbing stairs. A big bridge that led to nowhere, fifty feet over the edge of the lake. It was a constant battle by the local deputies, like Andy, just to keep the kids out.
That irony was not lost on me, about Eliza and Andy. They were still keeping people out, but for entirely different reasons. Things change, but they stay the same. Would've been funny, if it wasn't so friggin' deadly. My heart wept for these people, knowing what was coming for this place literally called Devil's Tower.
I saw the building, finally, as I rounded the trees.
Holy shit, folks. This really was Hell's waiting room. It was a stupid, stupid way to die.
Graffiti gone. A tall cinder block wall joined the mountainside, then wrapped around the camp on the lake side. The trees were cleared out. A couple people were on the perimeter walls, armed, pulling security. A big wrought-iron gate was repurposed for the front. The factory was tall, imposing, exposed to long range fire that might topple and crumble the whole damn thing, right down onto the poor people inside. Sure, they had probably reinforced it some. But how well? Did they think it could hold under tank fire? A tank, like that Bradley from the convoy?
No. No way. They'd get turned into mulch in seconds. The cinder block would get pulped by bullets in 7.62 or higher. Grenades or mortars would turn the open, exposed camp center into a veritable kill box. I wasn't a soldier, but I sure knew guns and tactics.
I tried to keep my breathing in check. I knew instantly, Celestia had been partially right about this thing. If the Army decided to hit this place, and even one person got scared enough to shoot first? Everyone in here would absolutely, positively die, and it wouldn't take long.
And Eliza, as she showed me around? She was so proud, God damn it. She couldn't see it. She had all my same training, knew how people worked, knew how ballistics worked, had grown up around guns. She once had a healthy respect for guns. How was she not seeing it? She knew she was in a war zone. Had known, for a long time. She had to know how utterly fragile this place would be, even against a force as small as the one that carried me out of Mount Vernon.
They'd all die. For a town, a dream, a past, that was already dead. Burned. Not worth saving. Long killed by Celestia.
"So, we've got several defensive positions up on the tower proper. Sandbag fortifications too, up on the walls, so we have some elevation if a group of looters decides to test us. I built a lot of those catwalks myself, actually. Was one heck of a big project, working around the old building, but we made it work."
That desperate pride again, in her voice. I was on the verge of breaking character, as I hid the anger under a true awe. This was too much. I didn't want to watch her get these people killed, if it all fell apart. I had to succeed now, I had to. All my doubts before, about betraying this woman? They were... suppressed. Injured, the moment I laid eyes on this building.
Don't balk, I told myself, as I looked through that gate, at all those poor people. As I heard music from inside, someone strumming a guitar. Saw kids cutting across the field in the distance.
I knew I had to stop feeling sorry for Eliza. I had to be angry at her, if only because that would make me more focused. Wouldn't be easy, but I had to be quietly angry at anyone who would stand their ground here, regardless of how kind, gentle, and loving they were to me, or to the others. Had to be especially angry at anyone who'd dig in their heels against reason and impose this ignorant suicide on the rest of these poor people.
Wasn't going to be easy. Was gonna hurt like hell. But I had to get mad that this was happening.
Hold the line, Mike. Just hold the line.
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I've read Heaven's Not Enough several times; never did I pick up that Mike dropped that little bomb in the middle there. I can only assume it was always written that way.
Damn, Key. What a delight to see that whole exchange through Mike's eyes.
A 'shibboleth' test; Scary scary stuff.
This is probably the fourth or fifth time I've read this, and I still remain floored by how incredible it is to see your attention to detail, prefect execution of characters' emotions, and the whole different light this moment is cast in from Mike's perspective.
Need-to-know Basis, and all that other wonderful military obfuscation.
Evasive Persuasive? Sorry, couldn't help the rhyme.
Probably the gasoline...did you know that they have to add stuff to the gas you put in your car in order for it to work, and that it can go bad after awhile? Yeah, me neither until I read up on it; anywhere from 3 months to 3 years.
The Fire is more important to have Truth rather than kindness; History is not there to be warped, but to be learned from.
Their fear carries them forwards.
He know what he could do, but he doesn't want to cause any unnecessary pain.
Psychological Tactic: Keep their contact on separate phones, so one is viewed as "the bad guy" while the other is viewed as "the good guy".
Keeping your voice under control, despite how much you want to scream out can be hard.
Has to be him verbalizing his thoughts to someone else. Makes it more of a certainty than a hope.
THIS. This is where being able to read & understand people as well as he does whispers its temptation, and his heart answered for him. When it's something personal that your heart wants...it'll use whatever means necessary to get it.
Not angry or anything, I simply understand.
You write trauma very well Keystone, feels realistic.
Yeah, not eager for round 2 to the chest.
Your job. Your task. Analysis. What you are capable of doing. Just another sin that gets added to the pile of heartaches. For other survivors.
Hold the line...even when you yourself are pushing against it.
Hope you kids are paying attention....
Because then you can trust that they aren't just saying it to hurt you.
Yeah, for being the Judas goat, I feel ya.
And there's your ticket in. She brought it up, not you. She Wants You There...And CelestAI Knows It.
As Her Words Be Like Poison From Thy Lips, So It Falls....
Telling yourself you're not A Bad Person. Justification. From someone like this, it means he regrets what's going to happen in the future.
She's probably had to watch it all. Yes, ALL of it.