Выбрать главу

The radio beeped suddenly and she swiveled forward to answer it. "This is Tirelli."

"Banshee-6, we have you on visual. We'll fall in behind like good little children."

Lizard looked off to her left. "I see you." Then she frowned. "How many of you ducklings got into the air?" she asked.

"The whole wing, Colonel."

"How come I see only six?"

"The second wave is going up now. We'll pick them up north of Santa Rosa."

"Whose good idea was that?"

"Cap'n Caswell's, Colonel."

"I got it. All right, you boys ready to go to work?"

"We're all bright and shiny, Colonel Ma'am, ready to spread death and destruction from here to Klamath."

"Just the target area today, please."

"Roger. Out. "

I crossed to Duke's side and leaned down to look out the spotter bubble just behind his seat. I could see six dark gunships just dropping into line behind us. "Hey! Those are Scorpions!"

"Aye-yep," said the Lizard. "They sure are." She swung around to face us again. "You have a question about that?"

"Yes, I do." I looked to Duke, then back to Lizard. "I thought we had to give them up. It was part of the Moscow Treaties. We had to sink our gunships."

"We did. Every last one of them."

"But, how-?" I looked out the bubble again. Those were definitely Scorpions.

Lizard looked very pleased with herself. "Oh, we sank 'em all right. But first we sealed them in acrylic. It kept them nice and dry until we needed them. We started pulling them up last year." She glanced out her side window. "They sure look good, don't they?" She was grinning.

I couldn't deny it. They were big, they were black, and they were mean. With their red spotlights on, they would be terrifying. "All right," said Lizard. "Let me give you the background. This is deep background. Uncredited. But one hundred percent reliable. Denver is getting too vulnerable. The military is looking at moving the federal government again."

"To where-?" I blurted. "Almost everwhere is vulnerable now." "Hawaii isn't," Lizard said. "So far, there's been no sign of infestation on any of the islands, and we expect it.to stay that way. To guarantee it, there won't even be any research labs allowed. Not even on the artificial islands or in the sea-domes."

Duke shook his head. "It'll never sell. It'll look like a retreat."

Lizard nodded. "If it happens, it will be a retreat."

"Hawaii's too small," said Duke. "Who gets left behind?"

"Hawaii's only Phase One. Phase Two is Australia and New Zealand. Neither of those land masses has been infested either. The negotiations are already underway. They'll actually be glad to have us-especially if we bring as much of our industrial capacity as we can crate and ship."

She reached down into the cooler next to her seat and pulled out a Coke. She tossed one to Duke and one to me, then took one for herself "But the immediate goal right now is total centralization within eighteen months. The President will be announcing that before the end of the month. We're setting up a chain of Safe Cities, each one surrounded by a kilometer-wide defensive border. We think we can make each city self-sustaining within a year. We'll be using a lot of robot labor, of course. Each city can then function as a base for military operations in its surrounding district. "

I said, "It sounds like you're abandoning the land."

She shook her head. "No. We're saving the people first. We can't fight a war without a front line."

Duke said, "So what does all this have to do with California?"

"Highway 101," Lizard replied. "It's the backbone of the west coast. We need to keep it clear. Seattle and Oakland will both be Safe Cities. We're hoping San Francisco. Probably Portland too, but that decision isn't final yet. The question is whether it's defensible. We also want to put some fortresses on the route. We're opening up a major campaign here. We need to keep our access to the sea. The Hawaii and Australia options both depend on it. Got it?"

Duke nodded. So did I.

"Good." The radio beeped then and Colonel Tirelli swiveled back to her controls. We were over Geyserville, and we'd picked up the second wing of choppers.

I dropped into the right side bubble and watched the ground stream past. We were flying low, not quite treetop level, but close enough to give me a good case of the queasies anyway. Lizard dropped us even lower, and now we began following the rolling texture of the countryside, up one hill and down the next. California had a landscape like a rumpled blanket.

The hillsides should have been green with April foliage, but they weren't. The trees and shrubs passing below us looked yellowish and sickly. There were patches of pink and red mottling the ground. "I know, it looks like lichen," said Lizard, "but it's not. It's another form of the sea sludge. Needless to say, its byproducts aren't friendly to local life-forms. The redwoods are especially vulnerable. The stuff grows fastest in puddles. Those bright patches are the places that were slowest to dry after the February storms. We've still got a lot of rain due. If it's bad, this whole area could be red by the end of summer. Denver is already testing specific biocides, but it doesn't look good. "

"Thanks," I said. "Any more good news?"

"Yeah," said Lizard. "It gets worse ahead. Stand by. We're about to hit Clear Lake." She thumbed her radio to life. "All right, ducklings, this is Banshee-6. We're going in. Watch for beacons."

Suddenly we were over water. I could look straight down into it. The clear surface was as bright as the sky, a dazzling silver mirror. I could see the dark shadow of the Banshee rippling below us. Not too far behind were the shadows of the Scorpions. They were bigger and more ominous. They roared behind us like flying dragons. From the ground, they must have been terrifying.

We crossed the north shore of the lake and suddenly I was staring down at an animated nightmare. The brightness of it hurt my eyes-they started watering. I blinked in confusion. I couldn't tell what I was looking at. It was all a burning wash of color. I'd never seen anything so garish and bright. I fumbled my goggles over my eyes and dialed them down.

It didn't help.

All the colors were red-all different shades of red, a kaleidoscope of crimson and vermilion blossoms, scarlet trees and royal fireworks. The eye could not assimilate the information. The brain could not make sense of it. All the possible intensities of red were painted here-all splashed across a pink and almost fleshy-looking landscape. There was umber, orange, ochre and magenta-the colors seemed to hover without shape.

My vision blurred then and I saw the Earth as a gigantic living creature. Its bright pink skin was broken open, scored and lacerated. I looked down into deep and bloody eruptions. Here were open sores and festering wounds. Streams of warm dark blood came bubbling to the surface, ran and puddled into hollows.

I lifted my goggles, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. Beneath the chopper was a dazzling vision of the floor of Hell. Bright orange bushes leapt upward like flames. Tall sequoias, smothered in red, looked like plumes of crimson smoke. Purple streamers hung from trees like shabby cobwebs. Below were large black spidery growths-they crouched in shadowy places. Red creepers stretched across the ground; they looked like grabbing claws.

The ground was pink.

It looked like it was tufted. It looked like it was made of cotton candy. The hills were sugary dunes. Welcome to wonderlandor insanity. The ground was patched with pallid streaks of blue-or erupting with yellow globular clusters-the colors delineated alien shapes. I couldn't tell what I was looking at. The hills were etched with purple threads-and white ones too; they looked embroidered; they were a crazy quilt of blinding hues.