Marisol came over to her, smiling, staying well uprange of the pointed weapon. She slapped a pair of night vision goggles on Sarah's head and switched them on. In the green world of the NVGs she saw a brilliant pinpoint on the far well'exactly where the laser was pointing. Nice, she thought.
'We keep all the batteries charged with a little windmill on the roof. Not enough power to let us have light or heat in the houses but it keeps the guns ready to shoot.' Marisol took back the NVGs and continued her story. 'Well, with us locked in here and with enough guns to last until the Second Coming the pirates didn't have a lot of options. A couple of them got killed. We specifically didn't go for head shots. When their own people got back up and started eating them they fell back to their boat. A couple of days later they just left. We shot the ghouls and came back out hungry but unscathed. The pirates had messed the place up a little, spray-painted graffiti on the houses, burned up half our furniture for firewood. They took those few crops we'd already put in the ground, even though nothing was ripe. It didn't matter. We were alive.'
'I wish I had known this was happening. I would have helped,' Dekalb said.
Marisol and Sarah looked at his slight, bony frame, and then at one another. Nothing more needed to be said.
Sarah opened a crate in the middle of the room and dug through the shredded newspapers inside. Gingerly she lifted out a rifle with a bizarre blocky forearm and a curved rail running from the muzzle back to the receiver. It weighed less than the Mark 23 Mod 0 had, she thought. It wasn't made of metal at all but some kind of lightweight resin. The only metal she could find on it was the stubby little barrel and the bullets themselves.
'Is this...?' she asked, unwilling to say it out loud in case it sounded foolish.
'Objective Individual Combat Weapon,' Marisol said, nodding. 'The rifle that was supposed to replace the M16. It's just a prototype. We have ten of them'I think they only ever made about five hundred before Congress killed the project.'
Ayaan had spoken about such weapons the way some people might talk about the houses they wanted to live in some day or what kind of food they would serve at their weddings. It fired regular NATO rounds or, with minimal reconfiguration, airburst munitions, the so-called smart grenades. The sighting system'which included not just an optical scope but laser, infrared, and night vision elements'had its own computer that could tell the difference between an ally and an enemy. If it detected an ally it wouldn't shoot. The rifle was supposed to be smarter than its user. Sarah laid it back down. 'So I'm sorry I interrupted. You fought off the pirates.'
'No,' Marisol told her. 'We sat them out. From day one we've had a place like this. Some place safe we can run to and fortify as necessary. Whenever bad things happen we're trained to come here and sit tight and wait it out. Jack taught me that.'
'Jack.' Sarah turned away so Marisol wouldn't see her face. She felt deeply, deeply embarrassed, too lame even to feel guilty. As if she had had an affair with a man she'd always been told was Marisol's husband only to find out he was somebody else altogether. Jack was dead, Jack was a ghoul hanging from a chain miles to the north but he lived in Governors Island and always would as long as the survivors remembered his teachings. Sarah had never met Jack in her life.
'You remember Jack, sweetie,' her father said, coming up to put a hand on her shoulder. 'He was the Army Ranger who killed me.'