And, of course, she was right to disapprove of his going outside. He could have used any of J Squad to convey orders to Li, and Li would accept them. Impossible to explain to the hyper-correct Major Duncan why Jason had to go outside himself. He could barely explain it to himself. But this mess was his responsibility, and he was going to fix it.
Lindy’s voice in his head: You think you can control everything.
Uncharacteristically, Duncan tried again. “Permission to speak, sir.”
“Go ahead.”
“You should not go yourself. Sir. Send me.”
Was she offering a genuine strategic assessment, or was she starting to take control of J Squad? Jason suspected that what had happened at HQ had been a junta-style takeover. General Hahn had been killed or imprisoned by Strople, who had his own agenda for the war. Strople could not have done that without convincing control of HQ officers. Was it possible that Elizabeth Duncan also—
No. He was being paranoid.
He said to Duncan, “Dismissed, Major.”
She left. Half an hour later, Hillson returned. “Sir, Corrigan was in Lab Dome. One of the scientists found out he had some sort of biology background and they’re using him in research. Captain Goldman took him through the tunnels. He says he heard troops near the exits of both tunnels, but not directly above either exit.”
Shit. “Did he hear any heavy vehicles?” Not that Corrigan’s report would be conclusive. A Stryker could be in place already, quietly waiting. Or just heavy ordnance.
“No, sir. Sir, with all respect—you shouldn’t go yourself.”
Sometimes Hillson seemed to reach into Jason’s head and extract his thoughts. It could be very annoying.
Jason said. “If this doesn’t work, it won’t matter who goes. Not in the long run.”
No one would be left to care.
He waited until well after nightfall. In full armor, Jason was a walking metal can equipped with the best sighting, communications, and killing tech of ten years ago. The J Squad soldiers with him looked equally formidable. But if there was another Stryker waiting at the top of the tunnel, they would all be hamburger in five seconds.
The unit stood, helmets off, going through weapons check in the storeroom at the bottom of Enclave Dome staircase. Jason had chosen Enclave tunnel precisely because it was used more, bringing in supplies and game, and so more likely to be known to New America. They would expect him to use the Lab Dome tunnel exit, which they might or might not know the location of.
The storeroom smelled of onions, but there were too many empty crates around. It was October; ordinarily, Colin’s Settlement would be supplying pumpkins, apples, pears, late tomatoes. Not this year, and not ever again if this plan didn’t work.
Jason and Kandiss, the only members of J Squad who were not RSA survivors, activated esuits.
“Okay,” Jason said, “listen up.”
Zack dozed on a pallet in a corner of his lab. He was dreaming something formless but menacing when someone shook his shoulder, hard. Instantly he bolted upright and lashed out.
“Jesus, Zack, don’t assault me!”
Lindy Ross, crouching over him. Zack looked wildly around. No one else was in the lab, and only a dim night light burned.
“What the hell are you doing, Lindy? What time is it? What’s happened?” Fear spitted his guts.
“It’s not Caitlin or Susan,” she said quickly. “It’s midnight. I need your help.”
“My help?”
“Yes. I have to move Colin Jenner and I can’t do it alone.”
That made no sense. “What? Move him where? You want an orderly.” And then, “Is he dead?”
“No, he’s not dead. I can’t move him alone with his injuries and tubes unless I use a carry-bot, which can’t go down stairs.”
“Down stairs? Why would Colin go down any stairs?” Was Lindy delusional?
“I’ll explain later but I need help now, while I can do this in secret, and you’re the only one I trust. Come on!”
She tugged on his arm, and Zack rose, befuddled by sleep or its lack but responding to the authority and urgency in her tone. They moved swiftly through the artificially night-dimmed corridors to the infirmary. When Zack tried to whisper a question, Lindy put her finger to her lips.
Colin Jenner waited in a powerchair. Lindy whispered to Zack, “If we run into anybody, say that you need tissue samples from Colin for your research. Come on.”
They moved, a silent ghostly group, past the cubicles with v-comas, who were beyond hearing anything. God, so many of them! From a side room came night nurses’ voices, weary and yet strident, arguing about something. Beyond the infirmary, the corridors were empty. They went through the first door to the tiny enclosure at the top of the staircase, Lindy squeezing in Colin’s bulky chair. She closed the door behind them.
Zack said, “Are we going down to the bird lab? Why? And where’s the guard?”
“Went comatose a few hours ago. Zack, you can get down there. Give the security system your scans.”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on!”
Colin said, “I’ll tell you. The underground annex will have a small airlock and then a long tunnel to the outside, as an emergency escape hatch and—”
“I know that, Jenner!”
“What you don’t realize is that there’s a whole New America army camped all around us, with tanks or something like tanks, and—”
“How do you know?”
“I looked,” Lindy said. “Observation deck is off-limits now, but I’m a doctor. With a good enough story, soldiers let me go places they won’t let other people go.”
“And anyway, I hear them,” Colin said.
Of course. Zack hadn’t put it together. If Ben Corrigan could hear “something different out there,” so could Colin Jenner.
Lindy said, “We’re going to take Colin through the tunnel to its exit somewhere in the woods. We need you because you have security clearances for the airlock scanner—you’ve gone outside to obtain sparrows. Colin’s going to listen to find out whether there are New America troops right above, waiting for us to come out like rats from a burning sewer. If not, I’m going outside and try to call the signal station. I have an earplant and mic, you know—doctor’s privilege. Mine aren’t military but maybe the signal station will hear us. Otherwise, there’s no way to tell them what’s going on.”
Zack was appalled. “New America will hear your message, too. They’ll pick up your location instantly.”
“I’ll walk a long way from the tunnel exit before I signal.”
“Lindy, they’ll mow you down!”
Lindy said, “Help me with Colin’s chair. We can’t jiggle him too much.” She took off her long white coat. Under it she wore a jacket, military pants, and boots. An assault rifle was strapped across her chest.
Zack said “And even if you reached the signal station, what good could they do?”
“Send missiles. Jason can’t fire outside, and we’re just sitting here like caged sparrows in the bird lab. And if the signal station can’t fire missiles, they can at least send the Return to rescue us.”
“No,” Zack said. “It’s an insane plan.”
Lindy moved so close to him that their feet almost touched. Her eyes, inches away, bored into his. He smelled her musky female odor, overlaid with smells from the old jacket. “Let me tell you what’s insane, Dr. McKay. It’s insane that my ex-husband didn’t foresee this. I would verbally flay him up one side and down the other except that I know beyond a grain of doubt that he’s already doing that to himself. It’s insane that New America found antique weapons that what is left of the entire United States Army didn’t find, or at least didn’t find here. It’s insane that we live in structures we didn’t build, don’t understand, and can’t alter by so much as a molecule. It’s insane that the only way the formerly greatest military machine on Earth can only communicate with itself is through one lousy comsat or else with human signalers through one relay station, like a nineteenth-century telegraph office. It’s insane that New America can hold us in a state of siege until we either starve, or all fall into v-comas, or start eating our comatose patients, whichever comes first. All those things are insane. Getting a signal to the Return so they can rescue us is the only thing not insane.”