Dominatus (25 page)

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Authors: D. W. Ulsterman

Tags: #Action & Adventure, #Dystopian, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #War & Military, #Genre Fiction, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Dominatus
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“We have three exterior cameras utilizing an encrypted two-way signal.  The signal itself is old school technology, the encryption is state of the art.  They’ll have a hell of a time trying to jam it.  Each camera is hidden from view and housed in a pressure protected encasing.  The casing protects it from weaponry damage, as well as hides its electrical signature.  Again, tough to locate – tough to jam.

 

“Now the pathway up to the first blast door is protected by a modernized fully automatic, large caliber, 90-millimeter M2 housed behind a retractable sheet of 3 inch steel.  The unit is controlled from here and has just over 1000 rounds of self loading, armor piercing shells and if we need to, we can fire off up to 30 rounds per minute.  It can be aimed directly at the path leading to the blast door, or upward to give us protection from drone attacks.  It’s connected to an automated day/night laser guided sight unit that gives us up to a 10000 meter delivery range with considerable accuracy.  To put it in real plain terms, this thing is one badass motherfucker.”

 

Mac proceeded to input data from a small keypad located just under the monitor.

 

“The weapon is now fully operational, and set to automatically shoot down anything with a drone signature within five miles of this location.  Keith, you take the first post here, let me know if you see any signs of anything. I’m guessing after the drones finished bombing out the buildings, our homes…they’ll be re-assessing their next move over the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

 

I noted a small metallic box at the right corner of the consul that sat below the monitor and pointed it out to Mac.

 

“What is that?”

 

Mac glanced at the box and then back to me.

 

“That…that is the latest and greatest, the controls for our E1 unit.  I don’t know how much the Old Man paid for that thing, but it wasn’t cheap.  That little box there powers up one hell of an electromagnetic punch.   A pulse weapon – the real vulnerability of the New United Nations.  That’s why I like to keep things old school around here, a shell casing, gunpowder…basic firepower like it was over a hundred years ago.  When I pull that trigger, I can do it knowing there’ll be very predictable result.  All these N.U.N forces, they are always upgrading to the next electronic this and electronic that…the more humane and earth-friendly weaponry you see.  It’s a joke but they just haven’t figured it out.  They think they confiscated just about all the old technology, the old guns, weapons…so there’s no need for them to deal in that anymore.  The drones are about the only thing they have left with old fashioned type bang and boom missile technology.  But the drone itself, those things are real susceptible to an E1 unit like that.  But if we have to use that thing, that means our backs are really up against it.  It’s a one-shot deal, so let’s hope it don’t come to that.

 

“Keith, I’ll bring you back some food in a bit.  I wanna go check out the escape route, make sure that’s ready to go as well, and then show Reese the communications room.”

 

Keith nodded, his eyes never leaving the monitor screen as Mac and I left the defense room, closing the heavy door behind us.

 

I followed Mac across the large cavern space to the wall opposite the defense room where another steel door was housed inside the rock and dirt wall of the cave’s interior.  It was opened by a circular latch device similar to what was used in military submarines years ago.  Mac turned the latch and opened the door, then waited for the automated lights to fully illuminate what appeared to be a very old mine shaft that had been more recently cleaned up and reinforced with a series of steel braces running alongside the walls and ceiling.  Approximately twenty feet inside the shaft was a series of narrow two seat wheeled boxes attached to one another and sitting atop a set of heavy steel tracks.

 

“This passage runs almost two miles across the other side of the hill.  It used to be an old zinc mine about a hundred years back. Those boxes link up to a vehicle at the very front which can pull everyone out of here at up to thirty miles an hour.  I’m hoping we don’t have to use this, but nice to know it’s there if we do.”

 

Mac stepped back out to the cavern and locked the door closed.

 

“Ok, you want to see the communications room?”

 

“Sure.”

 

I followed Mac past the generators and water pump and back out the “Authorized Access Only” door, which Mac closed behind him.  He then turned toward the medical room and took another left where a simple white door stood with a simple black tag above it that said “Communications”.   I could hear people moving inside the medical room and assumed it was Dr. Miller looking after the Old Man.  Mac opened the communications room door and turned on a single light housed in the center of the ceiling.  In the right corner was an older Ham radio placed atop a simple small pine wood desk in front of a single steel framed chair  – it appeared to be a Drake TR model, in pristine condition though I knew that model to be over fifty years old.

 

“We had someone in here go through that thing a few years back, has a boost on the transmitter, brand new tubes…thing should work perfect.  I’m not too knowledgeable about this stuff but the guy said this thing was about the best system he had seen in a long time, no digital, can hold up to an EMP attack a lot better, which is what the Old Man was looking for.”

 

I ran my hand slowly across the radio’s consul, marveling at its flawless appearance. 

 

“Yeah, the tubes give a warmer sound, and can’t be harmed by EMPs.  This thing is…it’s beautiful Mac.  I have everything I need here.  Where is the antenna?”

 

“We have a primary and a backup.  The primary is on the back side of the hill.  The backup is a line we ran underground all the way to the reservation.  No way someone would be able to find it.  We also have some digital handhelds we can set to the N.U.N. frequency…to contact them directly if we want.  Or, allow them to contact us.  So, when is your next communication?”

 

I folded my arms and sat back in the seat facing the radio.

 

“I was thinking tomorrow.  Tomorrow afternoon.”

 

Mac placed his hand on my shoulder.

 

“Ok, that should be fine.  There might be some action outside the cave, but we’ll make sure you have that time to do your thing.  Tomorrow it is.”

 

Mac and I left the small communications room and stood outside the entrance to the medical room.  Mac hesitated briefly before knocking on the door.  It opened and the face of Dublin peered out.

 

“Come in, he’s doing fine.  Resting.”

 

Mac walked in and I followed.  The room was painted all white, with both an examination table and hospital bed on opposite ends.  The Old Man lay in the bed, his eyes closed and breathing deeply.  Dr. Miller stood next to him, reviewing the data from a medical monitoring system on the right side of the bed.  He looked up as we entered and smiled.

 

“He has stabilized, heart rate is fine, blood is reasonably oxygenated.  There’s a bit of fluid in his lungs and he is running a slight fever, but overall, he’s doing better than he was just an hour ago.  He was pretty dehydrated.  I’ve got him on a simple gravity drip, and the oxygen seems to be helping to make him a lot more comfortable.”

 

Alexander Meyer opened his eyes and motioned for me to come closer to him. He looked up at me and removed the oxygen mask from his face.

 

“The radio, is it…acceptable to you?  Will it work for you?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Meyer, it’s perfect.  Thank you.”

 

“The transmission, we will be able to hear it throughout the cave.  Everyone can listen as you…as you say it.  Is that ok?  Can we listen in?”

 

“Yes sir, that’s fine.  I’m honored that you would want to hear me.”

 

The Old Man gave a tired smile, and was about to place the oxygen mask back onto his face, but then paused.

 

“When?  When is your program?”

 

“Tomorrow – tomorrow afternoon sir.”

 

The Old Man tapped his chest with a shaking hand and then pointed it at me.

 

“From the heart?  You will, tell our story from the heart, yes?”

 

“I’ll do my best sir.  I owe you nothing less than that.”

 

The Old Man’s hand waved back and forth before dropping back onto his stomach.

 

“No, we owe YOU.  Your father, his work, everyone like him without a voice.  You…you are that voice.  A voice for the voiceless.  We all owe YOU.”

 

Dr. Miller gently reached over and placed the oxygen mask back onto Alexander Meyer’s face.  The Old Man was already drifting back to sleep as he did so.

 

“He needs rest.  Tell everyone he’s stabilized, but no visitors for now.  Perhaps tomorrow morning.”

 

I looked at Dublin, who returned my gaze with that smile of hers I found so compelling.

 

“Are you doing ok?”

 

Dublin nodded, and took my right hand in between both of hers and squeezed.

 

“Looking forward to your program Reese, we all are, my grandfather especially.  We can talk more tonight if you want.”

 

I paused, enjoying the warmth of Dublin’s hands around mine.

 

“That would be great, Dublin.”

 

Mac looked from me to Dublin and then back to me.

 

“Oh Christ, you two are so sweet you’re giving me a cavity.”

 

I followed Mac out of the room, my thoughts gathering in upon themselves as we walked slowly down the hallway, the words of the Old Man repeating in my head:

 

From the heart.  Tell our story from the heart.  A voice for the voiceless.  You are that voice.

 

 

XIX.

 

 

People milled about the cave’s main room, the smell of freshly prepared food like another voice in the many conversations taking place.  Again I was struck by how calm everyone was given that just a hundred yards or so outside this place, were the corrupted retributive forces of the New United Nations pondering how next to silence these people – permanently. 

 

Lucille waved Dublin over to some spaces available at the long wrap-around kitchen counter where she served up three tall glasses of water and a plate each of freshly cut and herb-seasoned fried potatoes mixed with thin strips of smoked salmon.  The food was delicious.  I glanced over to see Mac devouring his plate, only pausing to take another long drink of water.  Dublin ate more slowly, though she too was clearly enjoying the meal. 

 

Lucille returned and stood across the counter from us.

 

“How is your grandfather doing, Dublin?”

 

“He’s doing ok, Lucille – thank you.  These potatoes are really good, by the way.  I forgot how good a cook you are.”

 

Lucille gave a grateful smile for the compliment before looking over at Mac.

 

“And what about you?  Where’s my thanks for the plate of food you’re shoveling into your face, Mac?”

 

Mac’s hand paused, the fork midway from the plate to his mouth.

 

“Oh hell, woman, let me eat in peace.  I’ll thank you…later.”

 

Lucille slapped the top of Mac’s hand and then looked at Dublin.

 

“See what I put up with, Dublin?  He’s an ornery old pervert.”

 

Dublin smiled back at Lucille as she elbowed me in the side.

 

“Oh, I suppose a little perversion is ok every once in awhile – right, Reese?”

 

I felt my face going crimson as I pretended not to hear.  Mac didn’t allow me to escape so easily though.

 

“Lucille, I think Dublin is intentionally torturing young Mr. Neeson here.  Messin’ with that poor boy’s head something terrible.  What do you think?”

 

“I think it’s no business of a perverted old man – that’s what I think.  Stop picking on Reese, he can’t help if his mouth hits the floor every time Dublin walks in the room.”

 

I sat back in my seat and put my hands up.

 

“Ok…ok…it seems apparent the only reason I was brought in here was so you three had someone to pick on.  Am I right?”

 

Dublin’s left arm wrapped around my neck as she brought her face next to mine, the scent of lavender, though now more faint, was still on her skin.

 

“Yeah – you two stop picking on my man!”

 

Mac slapped his hand atop the counter.

 

“Knew it!  Knew you two were going simpatico on us!  Well I’ll be damned, you’re a sly one, Reese.  Gotta give you that.  All quiet and well mannered…and now you got Dublin there all gooey eyed and eating right out of your hand.  Well done boy! You musta been watching me close to see how it’s done!”

 

Mac’s laughter rang out, causing several heads to turn and look over at us.

 

Lucille rolled her eyes.

 

“Lord I hope he wasn’t taking any tips from you, Mac, for Dublin’s sake!”

 

Now it was Lucille and Dublin’s turn to laugh as I found myself joining them.

 

Mac stood up, slowly placing his fork atop his plate, his face jutting comically into the air in mock defiance.

 

“I thank you for the meal Lucille, even if the company was a bit more…ill mannered than I would have liked.  I’m gonna take my leave now, and go where I am more respected and appreciated.”

 

Lucille rolled her eyes again.

 

“Good luck finding that in here, Mac.  We all know you.”

 

Mac’s mouth dropped open in shock as he folded his arms across his chest.

 

“Well frankly, my dear…I don’t give a damn.”

 

Lucille’s response quickly followed.

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