Clark spent nearly an hour among them, listening to their stories. It was bad, bad all over and the only way to survive seemed to be to get out, to get east. Since that was turning out not to be such a great idea (the dead were already in New York and Atlanta was overrun, he learned), the last resort seemed to be Florence-ADX.
When he was done he retired to the prison. The gates closed again and the Civilian came up beside him. 'Feels pretty good, doesn't it? Being the hero of Denver and all.'
'I' suppose it does,' Clark admitted.
'Yeah, so you better not fuck up and get all of these good people killed.'
Clark blinked in shock. Something to keep in mind, he told himself.
END OF PART THREE
Monster Nation
Chapter One
The new study in angiogenesis holds some promise' stem cell therapy could be the key. I palpated the neoplasm today and it was the size of a robin's egg. Mood: Cheerful, though she refused to eat. [Lab Notes, 9/12/02]
'Jesus! What's that smell?'
'Hell, I don't know, but we have to get out of here.'
'It's like month-old pizza or something. Cat piss sealed in Tupperware and left to mellow.'
'They're going to get in here. I don't think you understand. They're at the gates right now and we didn't have time to lock them. They are going to come out onto this runway and then we won't be able to take off.'
'Huh. Alright, alright. French cheese left sitting on a radiator? Help me get this door closed.'
Darkness slid across Dick's hidden form. He wriggled deeper into the packing material inside his crate. He hungered, oh, how he hungered, and there was food just inches away but the Voice had made it clear. There was still work to do.
His whole body vibrated as the military cargo plane jumped into the sky.
I won't accept this! No hope, they say. Keep her comfortable, they tell me. Enjoy the time you have left. No! I am a scientist and I believe all problems can be solved given adequate study and application. I am a scientist and I refuse to accept the inevitable. [Lab Notes, 9/20/02]
Outside, beyond the fence, construction crews were working non-stop installing plumbing and streetlights in the shantytown. Bannerman Clark watched a backhoe sinking its teeth into the yielding earth for a while and then turned back to the one-way mirror behind him.
'We had barricades across the roads but they just came up through the sewer. They came up out of the storm drain'covered in shit, um, pardon my French. Covered in sewage and they didn't care. You could see their eyes but it was like' God, do you know what I mean? Those aren't eyes anymore. They aren't people.'
If he couldn't allow the survivors inside the prison walls Clark intended to do what he could for them. He could give them a healthy environment'Vikram had loved the idea of building infrastructure out there, it gave the soldiers something to do other than contemplating their own mortality. An Engineer to the end, the Sikh Major had thrown himself into the hard, back-breaking work as if he were going off to a round of golf.
'My sister-in-law told us to keep the car running, that she would be out as soon as she found her passport. We waited and waited and waited' we burned through a quarter tank of gas before Chuck decided we had to get moving. I cried, I cried but I didn't try to stop him.'
Inside the prison Clark oversaw another program. Each survivor was brought in to be registered'name and vital statistics entered in a proper database, lot number in the shantytown recorded, a cursory physical exam performed. Those who wished it could stay and tell their stories. Almost all of them wished it.