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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
FEVERED FALL
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Seven
The Hoodoo sliced through the evening sky. Below it the moon shone
on a river and, on either side of the river, open farmland. There was no
sign of the chaos threatening the Imperium out here in the countryside.
Quiet farmhouses could be seen, amidst clusters of trees, which dotted
the ripening fields. The roar of the passing Hoodoo startled a flock of
ducks and caused them to rise quickly from the long grass along the west
bank of the river.
The gunner in the Hoodoo grinned. If he could have, he would have
shot up the flock of ducks. But the pilot flying the Hoodoo tonight was a
Ôby the bookÕ guy. She didnÕt like having her Gatling going off at
unexpected moments.
Thorston sat in a sling seat across from Smith and Zenger. He gazed
at them both, then looked at ZengerÕs camera. He studied it closely to
make sure there wasnÕt an Uplink attached to it. Those werenÕt authorized
under the new International Accords.
ÒDamn Chinese,Ó Thorston swore under his breath. He was glad,
though, that theyÕd forbidden the press to have Uplinks on their cameras.
It was hard enough controlling these bastard reporters without having
everything they filmed going out live.
Thorston looked at Smith.
ÒLive in Sanramento?Ó Thorston asked.
ÒHuh?Ó Smith said. He was twiddling his thumbs, staring at them,
as if contemplating their engineering by the Divine Being.
ÒLive in Sanramento?Ó Thorston asked again.
ÒNo,Ó Smith said. ÒI mean, yes, but only temporarily. IÕm on
assignment. To the Sewer Department.Ó
This time it was Thorston who said, ÒHuh?Ó
ÒThe Sewer Department,Ó Smith said.
Zenger looked up. HeÕd been studying his camera, as if searching for
a way to Uplink his film without an Uplink. ÒI remember that story,Ó he
said. ÒTwo weeks ago. ÔSanramento is Full of Shit.Ó
ÒYeah,Ó Thorston huffed. He looked at Zenger. ÒSure it is.Ó
ÒBefore that, we werenÕt allowed to say ÔShitÕ on the air. But now
we can,Ó Zenger grinned at the cop.
ÒIÕm sure you enjoy it,Ó Thorston replied. He tugged at his belt. He
guessed heÕd need a larger one soon. ÔToo many Twinkies,Õ he muttered. He
wondered if he should undo it in front of the other men and try cutting an
extra, non-regulation hole in it, with his pen-knife, but decided against it.
He wasnÕt about to undo himself in front of some wise-ass reporter. God
knows, the smartass would probably film him.
Zenger straightened. He glanced sideways, out the hole in the side of
the craft where the Gatling hung over the countryside. He had red, curly
hair, freckles, looked 25 but was actually 35. Thorston knew he worked
for KLAW, since heÕd talked so much about it, but he looked beguilingly
like the kid in the Superman comics who worked for the Daily Planet.
ÒOlson,Ó Thorston muttered. ÒJimmy Olson.Ó
ÒHuh?Ó Zenger asked.
Thorston turned to Smith. ÒSo where do you live?Ó
ÒHere?Ó Smith asked. ÒIn an apartment.Ó
ÒNot here, dammit. WhereÕs your wife and kids live?Ó Thorston
asked.
ÒSouthlawn,Ó Smith said.
ÒOh, yeah. I think you told me that,Ó Thorston said. ÒSorry.Ó
ÒNo problem,Ó Smith said. He glanced at the hand straps hanging
from the ceiling. They swung back and forth, aimlessly, as the levitating
craft moved swiftly across the sky. ÒSay, IÕm a veteran,Ó Smith said. He
grinned. ÒWe used to ride in things like this in Indonesia, but they were a
lot smaller.Ó
Thorston glanced about him, seeing the craft he rode so much in, as
if with new eyes. ÒYeah, they make Ôem bigger nowadays,Ó he said. ÒOn
account of the Accords, you know. No warplanes.Ó
ÒDamn Chinese,Ó Zenger said.
ÒAre you a veteran?Ó Smith asked Thorston.
ÒMe? Uh, no,Ó Thorston said. ÒStudent deferment.Ó He tugged at his
belt. ÒI flunked out though, so I went into the police department to, ah,
serve my country at home.Ó
ÒTo avoid service,Ó Smith said. He grinned. ÒNo problem. I didnÕt
want to go to Indonesia myself. Especially since we were already losing
the war to the Chinese when I got drafted.Ó
ÒThat was a long war,Ó Thorston said.
ÒYeah,Ó Smith agreed. ÒBut, you know, a lot of people didnÕt want to
see the Imperium lose another war in South East Asia,Ó Smith said. He
looked at Zenger. Thorston was looking at him too.
ÒYou serve?Ó Smith asked.
ÒUh, no,Ó Zenger said.
ÒToo young?Ó Smith asked.
ÒNo. Medical deferment,Ó Zenger replied. Thorston laughed. He
looked at Smith.
ÒToo wet behind the ears,Ó Thorston chuckled. Smith grinned and
laughed. ZengerÕs face reddened.
ÒSay, could I use your Uplink?Ó Zenger asked Thorston.
ÒNo,Ó Thorston said. He turned to Smith. ÒLetÕs go up and meet the
pilot. I have a feeling weÕll be dropping some bridges soon. Highways too.
She might want to know sheÕs got a reliable veteran on board to handle her
explosives for her.Ó
With a grunt, the grunt of a man in his early 40Õs feeling the
satisfaction of having served when other men hadnÕt, Smith stood up. He
straightened his tie. His white, shortsleeved shirt shone red in the softly
glowing interior Emergency lights of the shipÕs cabin. Thorston turned,
tugged again on his belt, and led Smith forward. Without being invited,
Zenger followed.
Thorston slid back the door to the pilotÕs cabin. He led Smith in and
didnÕt protest when Zenger followed him. Beyond, the pilot and co-pilot
could be seen in black silhouette against their illuminated panel of
instruments and the windshield of the Hoodoo. An overhead T.V. glowed
with the face of a news announcer.
ÒDue to Martial Law, we here at KLAW are unable to show you the
film we have of the rioting,Ó the news announcer intoned. His voice was
somber, but showed little sign, otherwise, of emotion. He turned to his
co-anchor, a woman, who sat near him. ÒIsnÕt that right, Betsy?Ó he
asked.
ÒWhy, thatÕs right Frank, but we have a great line-up of
entertainment programming tonight! And weÕre all eagerly waiting to hear
from the president. I hope itÕs good news but, in the meantime, we can
certainly all sit back and relax and enjoy the best entertainment the
Imperium has to offer!Ó
ÒWith regular weather reports, plus the latest sports,Ó Frank added.
ÒThatÕs right!Ó Betsy smiled.
ÒKLAW! The most entertainment the law will allow!Ó a voice boomed
from the T.V. The camera cut away from Betsy and Frank to show a large 9
on the T.V. screen.
The introductory music for ÒFuller HouseÓ began playing. Bright,
happy family members gamboled across the front lawn of a home.
ÒFull of fun,
ÒFull of sun,
ÒOur house is the house for everyone!
ÒFuller, fuller, fuller house,
ÒWith love for everyone,Ó the T.V. sang.
Smith gazed out the windshield at the rush of farmland below their
craft. Heights had made him dizzy when he was a boy, but in Indonesia
theyÕd been shuttled around so much on the Hummers (short for
Hummingbirds) that heÕd gotten used to seeing the world from above.
Still, when heÕd gotten his bearings, he lifted his eyes to the T.V. and
gazed at the reassuring sign of the Brody family enjoying their full house.
ÒTwo mothers,
ÒOne father,
ÒAnd the maid whoÕs gay,
ÒPlus six children,
ÒWhat a day,
ÒWeÕre having at Fuller House!Ó the T.V. proclaimed in a multi-
voiced, musical song.
ÒParents! Are you concerned about your childÕs safety? Here at
SafetySystems, we have a patented way to monitor your childÕs every
move!Ó a commercial announced.
ÒDan, this is Smith,Ó Thorston told the pilot, leaning over the pilotÕs
shoulder. When the pilot turned, Smith was surprised to see it was a
woman. He glanced down at the pilotÕs flight suit and read ÒDanÓ over the
womanÕs chest.
ÒHi, IÕm Judy Dan,Ó the pilot said, lifting a gloved hand from the
HoodooÕs controls. She shook SmithÕs hand.
ÒPleased to meet you, uh, maÕam,Ó Smith said.
ÒHeÕs the engineer, and this is our Minister of Propaganda,Ó Thorston
said to the woman. He pointed to Smith, then to Zenger. Dan nodded.
ÒOkay!Ó Dan said, above the roar of the engines and the commercial
on the T.V.
Thorston turned and, in the cramped space behind the pilot and co-
pilot, introduced Smith and Zenger to the craftÕs co-pilot.
The SafetySystems commercial stopped in mid-pitch, as the 808
number was being read out from the T.V. The seal of the President of the
Imperium replaced the 808 number.
ÒFellow citizens of the Imperium,Ó a sober voice announced.
Everyone, even the pilot and co-pilot, looked up at the overhead T.V.
ÒPresident Nelson,Ó Dan muttered. She looked back down at the
HoodooÕs controls.
A figure with a long chin, a long nose, and a balding, black-haired
head stared gravely into the camera. He looked like he hadnÕt shaved
although that was highly unlikely, given that he was making a national
broadcast that would be re-broadcast throughout the world.
ÒFellow citizens of the Imperium, it is with grave regret that I must
report to you, my fellow citizens, a disturbance,Ó President Nelson said.
Then, for a moment, he simply stared into the camera. There was a rustle
offscreen.
ÒDamn! The teleprompterÕs stuck!Ó Smith thought he heard someone
off camera say.
ÒUh, a disturbance,Ó President Nelson said. He stared straight at the
interior of the cockpit, his eyes blank, unseeing. ÒI said a disturbance,Ó
President Nelson said. He noisily cleared his throat. He turned and looked
to his side, then back into the camera. ÒMy fellow citizens,Ó he said.
ÒRemain in your homes. The police have everything under control. You may
hear some noise, but donÕt go outside. Please see that your children are in
your home. Child psychiatrists agree that at a time like this, it is best to
put your children who are under 18 to bed, and to administer Benzatrine to
them. Your favorite entertainment stations will be providing you with
round-the-clock entertainment during this period of Imperial crisis.
Everything is under control. You have no reason to be alarmed.Ó
Someone handed President Nelson a paper. He cleared his throat and
gazed down at it.
ÒAh, please do not go outside unless absolutely necessary, or with an
appropriate pass, on official government business,Ó President Nelson said.
He looked up at the camera again. ÒAs you know, since the Indonesian
Crisis, and the signing of the International Accords, China no longer
permits our Imperium to have warplanes. However, during this period of
disturbance it may be necessary for us to temporarily render inoperative
various bridges and highways.Ó
Thorston looked away from the T.V. and nodded to Smith. Smith
nodded back. Zenger, behind the two men, was filming the interior of the
cockpit.
ÒTherefore, you may hear explosions. It is simply the police,
rendering various modes of transport inoperative,Ó President Nelson said,
gazing into the camera. ÒA bridge in your area, or a highway, may be taken
out, simply to help the police gain control of the situation. DonÕt be
alarmed. I will be here on duty in the White House throughout this period
of Imperial Emergency, and during this time period it is recommended that
you enjoy yourselves indoors and not go outside.
ÒThank you, my fellow citizens of the Imperium,Ó President Nelson
said.
As Thorston led Smith and Zenger back out of the cockpit, Smith
could hear Frank and Betsy on the T.V. behind him.
ÒWell, I donÕt know about you, Frank, but IÕve got some sleep I need
to catch up on,Ó Betsy told her co-anchor.
ÒMe too, Betsy,Ó Frank said. ÒIn fact, my wife and I could use
something besides just sleep,Ó Frank said. ÒWeÕre looking forward to this
time we can spend together.Ó Both co-anchors laughed.
The Hoodoo passed through the night sky toward New Washington,
D.C. The moon glowed off the black skin of the craft. Smith, Thorston, and
Zenger settled back into their sling seats in the cabin. Zenger took the
pencil from behind his ear and the pad of paper out of his shirt pocket.
ÒNew Washington, D.C.,Ó Zenger said. He smiled at Smith. ÒSay,
youÕre older than me. I donÕt mean to say youÕre old or anything but, since
you were in the Indonesian War and all, could you help me with some
background?Ó
ÒSure,Ó Smith said.
ÒWhatÕs D.C. stand for?Ó Zenger asked. Smith looked puzzled.
ÒDistrict of Containment,Ó Smith said. ÒEveryone knows that.Ó
ÒDumb reporter,Ó Thorston muttered.
ÒNo, no, no,Ó Zenger said. ÒI mean, there used to be an old
Washington. You know. ItÕs like York, in Britain, and New York, in America.
OneÕs named after the other. So, like, didnÕt D.C. used to stand for
something else?Ó
ÒOh, yeah,Ó Smith said. He looked up at the red Emergency lights in
the cabin. He studied them for a moment. ÒColumbus, something. I think
it was District of Columbus. You know, the guy who discovered America.Ó
ÒColumbia!Ó Zenger said. He wrote on his pad.
ÒWhat did you ask me for?Ó Smith said. He seemed disgruntled that
heÕd been found to be in the wrong.
ÒI needed help remembering it,Ó Zenger said. He looked up at Smith.
He grinned, boyishly. ÒDonÕt worry. IÕll give you full credit as the source.Ó
ÒDonÕt bother,Ó Smith said.
Harold approached the body of a dead police woman. As he did, he
saw a dog. It had a nice coat on it, well groomed; it was obviously
someoneÕs pet. It didnÕt have a collar, though. His mind, so well-honed to
the legalistic Ôlaw and orderÕ environment heÕd grown up in, instantly said,
ÒUh, uh. No collar, $200 fine, possible 30 days in jail.Ó
Actually, the phrase came out in his mind as, ÒCollar Your Dog, or
WeÕll Collar You! A message from the D.C. SheriffÕs Department and KBAR.Ó
It was a public service announcement that ran frequently on the T.V.
Unfortunately for the police woman, she wouldnÕt be collaring anyone. She
was dead, and the uncollared dog was eating her face.
ÒScat,Ó Harold murmured. The dog turned its head slightly, then ran
off, annoyed that its meal had been interrupted.
In the distance Harold could see the tall buildings of the city of New
Washington. Some were brightly lit, others were dark. Flames were
rising from a portion of the city. Harold watched the rising column of
smoke, illuminated by the moon. Above the towers of the city more
towers stood, in mid-air. Harold saw an opening amidst the towers, and
guessed why: someone had dropped one of the buildings down into the spot
from which the flames were now rising. Harold peered down into the fire
again. Yes, he thought he saw it. A heap of rubble, and more rubble
intermixed with it, amidst the flames. A Sky Dwelling hadnÕt just dropped
to the ground. New Washington was too expensive a place to leave the
engineersÕ recommended open space underneath. The damn thing had
dropped onto other earth-bound skyscrapers, causing quite a mess.
Harold stepped within the shattered remains of a bus depot. Amidst
the flickering light of the darkened man-made cave, he saw a figure.
Harold avoided a small fire and walked across the depot to a young man
sitting on a bench. He had his back to him, but Harold knew his 13-year-
old friend well enough to know Tongsun even from behind.
ÒHey T, whatÕcha thinking about?Ó Harold asked. He walked around
the figure and sat down. ÒWe broke into the armory. Found a lot of stuff.
Got some guys who know how to work it. Some girl, too, whoÕs dadÕs a
sergeant and who really, you know, LIKES army shit. She wanted to drive a
tank, so I told her, ÔGo for it!ÕÓ
Tongsun nodded, said nothing. Harold listened to the fire crackling
in the distance.
ÒToo bad thereÕs no lights,Ó Harold said at last. ÒBut with, you
know, half the Imperium wanting your scalp, itÕs probably okay, right T?
If you want I can try to get the lights turned on. Maybe somebody knows
how.Ó
Tongsun raised his head slightly. An explosion sounded, in the
distance. Harold cringed, but Tongsun remained utterly still and calm.
ÒIt was never supposed to be absolute,Ó Tongsun said finally.
ÒHuh?Ó Harold asked. He lifted a hand and shoved it back through his
stringy, shoulder-length blonde hair. Tongsun turned, slightly, his hair
black and bushy, his face brown. He looked at the blonde boy and said,
again, ÒIt was never supposed to be absolute.Ó
ÒWhat, T?Ó Harold asked.
Tongsun lifted a hand. Harold expected Tongsun to say something
about the depot, or about how to take New Washington, but instead
Tongsun said, ÒLet us consider Man in the wild.Ó
Harold raised his eyebrows. ÒOkay, man. Whatever.Ó
ÒIn the wild,Ó Tongsun said, ÒThere was, letÕs say, a jungle. Or
maybe it was a savannah. Or both. And letÕs say there were several
chimpanzee tribes spread out over this territory. In each tribe there was
an alpha male. He got first pick of the females. The males who werenÕt
alpha males got second, or third pick, or, sometimes, no pick at all.
Tongsun turned his head and regarded Harold straight on. Harold saw
the fire behind them reflected in TongsunÕs eyes. ÒBut the Ôbull,Õ letÕs call
him that... the alpha male, though he got first pick and forced other males
to get no pick at all, of the females, it was never supposed to be absolute.
It was never meant, by Nature, to be an iron-clad system. A mate of the
alpha male might, in fact, have sex with a non-alpha male. Or a male
might have sex with a young female chimp. Or an older female might have
sex with a young male chimp. Things were fluid.Ó
Tongsun frowned. ÒBut now, in this modern world, we have an iron-
clad system. NOBODY may have sex with anyone under 18. Theoretically,
according to the law, nobody under 18 can have sex with anyone under 18,
either. And there are lists, and records, of so-called Ôsex offendersÕ, all
laid out in a very pejorative, iron-clad way. This is not how Nature
intended for us to live, in this hostile, iron-clad manner.Ó
ÒRight, man,Ó Harold said. HeÕd read a little about ÔLiberation
Theory,Õ as it was called, but obviously, given his relationship with his
teacher, who was in her 30Õs, Tongsun had read a lot more about it.
ÒI didnÕt want to lead this Cause,Ó Tongsun said. ÒIt was forced upon
me. You know that. I was just in love,Ó Tongsun said to Harold.
ÒHey, man, I know that,Ó Harold said. ÒSo what if you killed a dozen
cops? WeÕre with you, man. They want to defend a dumb system, let them
die for it.Ó
Tongsun turned his face toward the blackness at the back of the bus
depot. Gunfire could be heard in the distance. Harold wondered if their
lines were holding or if they were being overrun by the cops. Tongsun
seemed to be elsewhere, though, staring off into the distance, listening to
the fire consuming ceiling tiles and fallen electrical wiring that was
lying on the floor behind them.
ÒLet me tell you how all this happened,Ó Tongsun said, staring into
the black void.
ÒHey, I know, man, the cops came to your house to get her and...Ó
Harold began, but Tongsun lifted his hand.
ÒNot that,Ó Tongsun said. ÒIt all began with Mount Himalaya.Ó
ÒA mountain?Ó Harold asked.
ÒActually, it all began with India,Ó Tongsun said. ÒIndia was an
island once, travelling north. It ran into Eurasia. That pushed up what we
now know as the Himalayas. As the Himalayas rose, they were so tall that
they altered earthÕs climate. Earth began to cool. It plunged into one ice
age after another. But sometimes, intermixed with the ice ages, there are
periods of warming. These generally last about 10,000 years.Ó
Tongsun looked again at Harold. ÒThe last ice age ended, or, rather,
took a break, 10,000 years ago. Everything you and I know as civilization,
right down to the laws against so-called Ôsex offendersÕ is made possible
courtesy of this brief warming interval.Ó
ÒCool, man,Ó Harold said.
ÒNow let me add to the story,Ó Tongsun said. ÒAt one time we all
lived in Africa. ThereÕs a western part of Africa and an eastern part of
Africa. And do you know what? If Africa hadnÕt started tearing itself
apart, creating the Great Rift Valley, five million years ago, you and I
would still be monkeys living in trees.Ó
ÒUh, wow. What happened, man?Ó Harold asked.
Tongsun smiled. ÒThe western part of Africa stayed wet and rainy,
like it had always been. Life was easy. There, the monkeys stayed in the
trees, and they are the ancestors of what we today know as our modern
monkeys.Ó Tongsun lifted a finger. ÒBut in eastern Africa, things werenÕt
so great. The climate changed. Things got drier. There was less water.
As a result, there were less trees. So the ancestors of man, five million
years ago, found they couldnÕt just swing from tree to tree, like a bunch of
monkeys. They had to climb down out of one tree, walk across grassland,
and then climb up another tree, in order to get from one tree to another.
Trees being both a source of food, due to their fruit, and a source of
safety, from ground-based predators, like tigers.
ÒSo, anyway,Ó Tongsun said, ÒBy having to work to survive, coming
down out of the trees, manÕs ancestors learned to stand, and grew bigger
brains. ItÕs all because of plate tectonics that weÕre here today. No rift
in Africa five million years ago, no Rift Valley, and the climate doesnÕt
change in eastern Africa, from wet to dry. But with the rift, the climate
changes, and humans begin to evolve into the species we know them as
today.Ó
ÒLiving in their iron-clad way,Ó Harold said.
ÒYes,Ó Tongsun said. ÒWith handcuffs, and huge barred prisons, and
automatic weapons, and waist chains, and leg irons. This was never meant
to be, by Nature. Nature desired that the fittest should survive, sure.
Nature even desired that the fittest should be the ÔbullÕ, and get the most
mates. But Nature never intended for one group to so completely dominate
and define everything that my lover should be called a sex criminal and be
put in some huge, barred building. This is an obscenity, and IÕm going to
stop it!Ó Tongsun rose up abruptly. He turned to Harold. The blonde boy
realized with relief that TongsunÕs philosophy lesson, or whatever one
might want to call it, was over. The gunfire outside was growing louder.
ÒAre we moving forward?Ó Tongsun asked.
ÒI-- I think so,Ó Harold said. ÒObviously there are some people who
are just out to loot, you know, for fun and profit--Ó
Tongsun waved his hand. ÒIt is no matter,Ó he said. ÒEvery army
must have skirmishers. Let the looters loot. Hopefully their own greed
will drive them ahead of us, and startle and complicate things for the
police. If we have a solid core who understand the Cause, understand
about Liberation, then that is all we need. It is just like in the Bible,
when the Lord kept sending men home until he had a small group he could
control who would allow him to take the enemy. In our case, we donÕt send
the unfit ones home. We let them go loot.Ó
ÒOkay. Right,Ó Harold agreed.
30
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