“I guess the man’s busy,” I said. “Let’s watch some TV.”
“What are you doing, Michaela?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re sketching.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you sketching me?”
“Nothing else to sketch.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be.”
“Are you ticklish?”
“Do you bleed?”
“I bleed, but I’m going to tickle you.”
We were in the lounge area. I’d sat eating popcorn while watching a batch of sitcoms. I only just noticed that Michaela had curled herself into a big, plump arm-chair, where she worked with a pencil on some scraps of paper.
I hooked my hands like claws, then shambled across to her; my knees bowed like a gorilla’s. “Gonna get pretty lady. Gonna tickle her good and hard.”
“You do and I’ll bust your lip.” She laughed and threw a cushion at me.
“That’s don’t hurt Mungo,” I grunted. “Mungo tickle pretty lady.”
“Here, let me draw Mungo. Hold still while I sketch that big bulbous forehead of yours.”
“Like this.” I struck a pose with my arms reaching out over her monster-style.
“Yeah, like that.”
“Mungo like pretty lady?”
“Mungo very pretty.” Smiling, she worked the pencil. “I’m drawing Mungo’s big round nostrils, the big wart on his nose. His staring eyes, shaggy eyebrows; his bug-ugly yellow teeth.”
“Mungo see now.”
“Mungo can wait.”
“Mungo impatient.” I grunted like a gorilla, but oh, Jesus, keeping up this playacting was making me crazy. I wanted-hell, no-I craved to have a proper conversation about Phoenix and my suspicions, but by this time I’d convinced myself that not only were there microphones dotted about the bunker but hidden cameras, too. Those things were probably implanted in the walls, and of course the lenses would be little bigger than pinheads. To all intents and purposes they were invisible.
“Right, show me the picture or I tickle good and hard,” I told her.
“Oh, all right. Here. Sit down beside me.” She patted the cushion. I sat beside her. Then she pointed at the drawing. “I think I’ve got the lips just perfect, don’t you?” She pointed at what I took to be a drawing of a face with a long smiling mouth. Instead of lips I realized she’d run words together: Good-Idea. The-Popcorn-Scam-Worked . Then she pointed to the chin, which was formed by the words: Didn’t-Hear-Us-Did-He?
“What do you think?” she asked, fixing me with her eye.
“My God, Michaela, you’ve really caught my chin, but where are my eyebrows?”
“It’s a work in progress.”
“Here, give me the pencil.” Above the eyes I wrote: Careful, he’ll be watching. “There; eat your heart out, da Vinci.”
We sat ’round some more. All the time I felt conscious of camera lenses burning into the pair of us. I guessed that Michaela felt the same way. She continued to sketch, but she looked a little on edge. Try as I might, it was hard to concentrate on the TV. My eyes kept sliding off screen to try to find those hidden camera lenses.
“Say, people, good news!” Phoenix spoke so abruptly that Michaela started. “Listen, I’ve been given security clearance from the highest level to show you something.”
Michaela and I looked at each other. Phoenix sounded excited.
“So, Greg, Michaela, if you could move into the lounge so you can see the TV screen…”
I said, “We’re already in the lounge, Phoenix.” But then, he knew that, I’d wager. He’d been sitting in his lair watching us all along.
Michaela put down the sketches. “What you got to show us, Phoenix?”
“I hope you guys are going to be as thrilled as I am about this. We’re implementing something called Reach Out. At last we’re allowed to start doing what we’ve been put here to do.”
“How does that work, Phoenix?”
“As the program title states we’re going to Reach Out to bands of survivors like yourselves to provide you with food, ammunition and medicines.”
“You mean you’re going to help us?” Michaela’s eyes were wide.
“That’s right.”
“That’s going to be a tough one, Phoenix,” I said. “You haven’t seen the mess the cities are in, or how few there are of us who survived in the outside world.”
“Oh, but there are.” The velvet voice gushed now.
“There are more than you think, Greg. Of course, this epidemic hit the country hard, but there are hundreds and hundreds of facilities like this. Most are far bigger, housing a hundred or more people.”
“You make it sound like Noah’s ark.”
“Think of it as hundreds of arks. Each with stores of food, seeds for planting new crops, fuel. There are agricultural experts as well as engineers, mechanics and scientists, ready to help rebuild.” The enthusiasm made his voice soar. “This is a new beginning. You, Michaela and Greg, can be part of it.”
“How do we fit in?” Nice and easy does it, said the cautious voice in the back of my head. Something’s brewing here. Someone’s been making plans.
Phoenix gushed, “We need people on the outside to bring survivors like yourself to the bunkers.”
“Why?”
“We can provide food, clothing, everything you need. You can make a start by bringing your own people here. Like yourselves, they can rest, enjoy some of our hospitality while we help you get organized into a secure society. You will be able-”
“Whoa, Phoenix. Hold on.” Michaela stood up. “You know we’re still outnumbered out there by thousands to one. The hornets are everywhere. We’ve tried to settle in one place, but they keep driving us on.”
“We can help you.” Phoenix paused. The excitement exerted him. I could hear his breathing rasp from the speakers. “We will be dispatching military units in armored vehicles. There’ll be helicopter gunships. They will use all the firepower at their disposal-and believe me, it is formidable firepower-to create safe home-lands for our people.”
I shook my head. “You mean you’re going to clear cities of hornets. Then what? Build a big wall around Chicago or Atlanta?”
“I understand you might be skeptical after what you’ve encountered in the outside world. But there are areas of America that are largely free of affected people, the hornets as you call them.”
“Excuse my skepticism,” I said. “Really, I want this to work as much as anyone, but it’s going to be a tall order.”
Michaela nodded. “It’s a wasteland out there. You’re lucky to find a single house that hasn’t been smashed to pieces or burned.”
“We can build new houses. We can repair those that aren’t badly damaged.”
“You’re asking us to put our faith in you?”
“Yeah.” Michaela sounded angry. “Where were all you people when our nation was being torn apart and citizens being killed by the thousand? You were hiding here in your bunkers watching Friends or snacking on microwave weeners.”
“Michaela.” Phoenix’s voice oozed with calm sincerity. “Michaela. We were taken by surprise. We’ve needed months to regroup and reorder ourselves. Many of our armed forces were destroyed along with civilians. Besides, we couldn’t bomb our own towns and cities, could we?”
“OK,” she said, not backing down. “Tell me what you and your bunker buddies are going to do to help the likes of us.”
“I don’t have to tell you, I can show you. Please watch the TV screen.”
Thirty-seven
Somewhere in the bunker Phoenix operated the big TV on the wall. One second a sitcom I didn’t even know the name of had been playing, the next the canned laughter vanished, to be replaced by a view of a desert with a dust road and hundreds of Joshua trees. The morning sun blazed down from a cloudless sky.
“This,” Phoenix said, “is the scene from a big military bunker complex in Texas. Exactly where I can’t say for security reasons. You’re seeing this live as it happens. Any moment now you’ll see why I’m so optimistic about things working out. Right-o. We’re going to switch to another camera. Here we go.” At the bottom of the screen ran a code that didn’t make much sense at first: TX 03/23. EXT. CAM 3.