“You wiped out almost five hundred lives?” Geronimo queried, horrified.
“It was simplicity itself,” Jarvis said. “These pitiful wretches possessed so few firearms I was able to subdue them with only one hundred men.”
Blade stared at Jarvis. “I know about Samuel’s plans to reconquer the United States, but it was my understanding he’s going after the larger populations outside the Civilized Zone first. Isn’t that why his Army attacked the Flathead Indians in Montana? I know for a fact, and undoubtedly you do too, that there is a large free group in South Dakota called the Cavalry. So why are you here? Why did Samuel send you to the Twin Cities when there are larger free populations elsewhere?”
“Of course we know all about the Cavalry,” Colonel Jarvis stated. “As a matter of fact, they won’t remain free much longer.”
“What do you mean?” Blade demanded.
“Sorry. That’s another little surprise I’ll save for later.” Jarvis smiled.
Geronimo openly glared at the colonel. He was the one who had ventured into Cavalry territory; he was the one who had arranged for a treaty between the Family and the Cavalry, both forming what Plato had designated the Freedom Confederation; and he was the one who had married a Cavalry woman. The prospect of his newfound friends being subjugated by the army infuriated him.
“As to why we are here,” Jarvis was saying, “we owe it all to you.”
“Come again?” Blade said.
Colonel Jarvis pointed at the stockade. “The reason we’re in the Twin Cities, the reason all those people are locked up, and the reason so many of them have already died is because of you.”
Blade shook his head, unwilling to accept the blame. “No way!”
Jarvis put his hands behind his back and adopted a stern visage. “I don’t appreciate being called a liar! I’ll explain it for you, so you’ll see I’m telling the truth.” He paused, watching the abject faces in the compound.
“You see, Samuel was perfectly willing to leave these people alone, to continue monitoring their activities but otherwise allow them to live out their petty little lives in strained desperation. The Twin Cities population wasn’t due to be reabsorbed for a year or two. But then something happened.” Jarvis grinned at Blade. “Then we learned of your trip to the Twin Cities. We discovered your plans, how you intended to lead these people out of the shambles and aid them in establishing a new life near your accursed Home. We couldn’t allow that. We don’t want your Family becoming any stronger than it already is. So Samuel devised a brilliant strategy. Send out a special unit under my command to forcibly contain these degenerates and ship them to one of our Reabsorption Centers near Denver…”
“Reabsorption Centers?” Geronimo repeated.
“Of course! You don’t think we’d allow these depraved, maladjusted misfits to be absorbed into the general populace of the Civilized Zone without first reeducating them, without aligning their diminished mental capacities with the prevalent social consciousness required of all upright citizens, do you?”
“But how?” Blade needed to know. “How did you find out about our plans? From one of your listening posts outside our Home?”
“No,” Colonel Jarvis responded. “Our high technology wasn’t necessary this time. We used an informant.”
“An informant! Was it someone from the Family?” Blade demanded.
“No. I’ll let you meet him.” Jarvis scanned the area.
Blade, attracted by the rumble of the generator, glanced to the southwest. About fifty yards from the stockade was the truck housing the generator, and it wasn’t alone. Blade counted fifteen troop transports in all, not including the one they came in. Evidently, the Army intended to utilize the big trucks to relocate the Twin Cities population.
“Ahh! There he is!” Jarvis had spotted someone nearby, standing with a group of troopers. He waved, beckoning the person to join them. “Here he comes now.”
Blade didn’t recognize the informant. He was a small man, with tiny dark eyes and a small, pointed nose. He wore faded jeans and a torn blue shirt.
“Blade, Geronimo,” Jarvis said as the grubby man stopped at his side, “I’d like you to meet Rat.”
The name rang a bell, but Blade still couldn’t place him. “Should I know him?”
“Probably not,” Jarvis answered. “I believe it was Hickok who encountered Rat on your first trip to the Twin Cities. You and Hickok are the best of friends, aren’t you, Rat?”
“Where is he?” Rat asked in a squeaky voice. “Where is the prick? You promised I could have him!”
“And I’m a man of my word,” Jarvis declared. “Unfortunately, Hickok escaped on the way here and…”
“Escaped!” Rat shouted, nervously looking around the field.
Jarvis laughed. “Relax. We’ll protect you. We have an agreement, remember? Besides, what can Hickok do against all my men? He’s one man against one hundred.”
Rat was rubbing the stubble on his narrow chin. “You don’t know Hickok like I do, Jarvis. We’re not safe until you have him in custody.”
The colonel’s eyes had narrowed at Rat’s manifest lack of respect. “It’s Colonel Jarvis to you,” he said angrily.
“No offense meant,” Rat hastily apologized.
“I remember now,” Blade mentioned. “Hickok told us about you. You were one of Maggot’s crowd, the ones who used to run the Porns. Hickok said you managed to get away during his final fight with Maggot.”
“Yeah, I escaped that bastard!” Rat snapped, his intense hatred for the gunman distorting his features. “I hid out. Some of my buddies gave me food and water and told me what was going on. They told me how Hickok made Bear the new head of the Porns. Most of the Porns went along with it because they hated Maggot’s guts. But a few of us didn’t like the idea one bit. And then I heard how Hickok was coming back, how he’d promised to lead everybody from the Twins. Mr. High and Mighty! Well, I knew I had to stop you guys, so I gambled and snuck out of the city.”
“He contacted us,” Jarvis detailed, “one of our outposts surrounding the metropolis.”
“Yeah,” Rat continued. “They were real interested in you guys. I offered them a deal. If they would help me become boss of the Porns, I’d help them get you.”
“We modified the arrangement somewhat,” Jarvis elaborated. “In exchange for the information he had concerning Alpha Triad, we offered him Hickok’s head on a platter.”
“You made a deal with this worm?” Blade inquired, calculating his insult would annoy Rat.
“Who are you calling a worm?” Rat demanded, peeved.
“When it suits our purpose,” Jarvis said, “we occasionally establish pacts with…” He glanced at Rat distastefully. “Outsiders.”
Blade recalled his trip to Fox and the Family’s fight with the Trolls.
“Like you did with the Trolls?”
“Exactly.” Jarvis nodded. “We have a lot of territory to reconquer. We can’t be everywhere at once. We lack the personnel to place permanent listening posts near every inhabited town and hamlet. On the other hand, we don’t want the people living outside the Civilized Zone to organize and oppose us, so whenever we locate a group like the Trolls, crude, primitive, savage barbarians devoted to looting and killing, we form a pact with them. In exchange for their continual harassment of the people in their vicinity, we supply them with a few guns and other items. It’s an extremely effective system, because it fosters anarchy and disrupts any efforts at organization.”
“And later,” Blade deduced, “when Samuel is ready, you’ll waltz right in and enslave everybody with a minimum of opposition.”
“Deucedly clever, don’t you think?” Jarvis asked.
“Yes,” Blade conceded. “You don’t miss a trick.”