“A day that has been a long time coming. A day you dreaded and yet never saw coming.”
Kells returned, filling the only remaining space in the office, standing close over Rebecca’s right shoulder. She tensed but did not turn.
“We have seized control of the Administrative Maximum Unit Penitentiary at Gilchrist. Overnight, we rounded up the citizens of this small town. I want you to know first that our invasion ends here. We have seized this town as fair trade for our mistreatment, and we have no plans to make any further acquisitions. We have no need. Our exile is self-imposed. We have no desire to rejoin your soft society. We ask nothing further from you, and provided that your government and law-enforcement representatives behave appropriately, we pose you no additional threat. As proof of this, we are releasing the captured residents to you at this hour.”
“Releasing?” Dr. Rosen gripped his head, pointed at the television. “He’s releasing the hostages!”
Rebecca could feel the force of Kells’s attention over her shoulder, as though he were focused on Trait’s every word.
“We hold no hostages, and we have no laundry list of demands. All we want is to be left alone. Gilchrist’s geography is fairly self-isolating. Of course, should your government choose to attack us, we would be no match for them. However, we believe such an attack will not occur.”
Terry said, “No?”
“Many of you are familiar with the concept of ‘casualty insurance,’ reimbursement in the event of a catastrophic loss. I have taken out a similar policy myself, in order to ensure our safety here. I call it ‘multiple casualty insurance.’ ”
She could feel Kells brace.
“Ricin is a natural protein poison extracted from the common castor bean. It is six thousand times more toxic than cyanide, and third overall behind plutonium and botulism. Inhalation of a single particle ignites a chain reaction beginning with flulike symptoms, progressing to exploding red blood cells, internal hemorrhaging, and finally death within a few days. The toxin is odorless and tasteless, and there is no antidote.
“My associates on the outside, fellow pledges of the Brotherhood of Rebellion, have devised a simple, effective mechanism to release the deadly ricin toxin in what is known as a ‘controlled multiple casualty attack.’ What we have done is install these devices in two randomly chosen communities within the United States of America.”
She heard Kells say “Oh, boy,” under his breath.
“This claim may strike some as fantastic. It is difficult to accept the fact that you or your families may be at risk at this very moment, your survival contingent upon the actions of your elected government officials. You may simply think that we are bluffing. I cite an occurrence in Montana a few months ago, the traffic stop of a dedicated associate of mine. I understand that a small bag of white powder was seized, and later opened by an unfortunate police officer who unknowingly released the ricin into the police station, to lethal effect.”
Rebecca’s mind was racing. She remembered the news story as something she had printed offline for her clip file. Surface-to-air missiles, and ten or so policemen bleeding out from an unnamed contaminant.
“But words are cheap. You need to be taken by the hand. Things must be demonstrated for you in order to be believed and understood. What you will watch now is a live feed from the prison monitoring system inside ADX Gilchrist.” The scene switched to surveillance images of prison corridors and offices occupied by cavorting ex-prisoners. “True warriors are rare in the modern world. Only the fittest are deserving of survival, and we will survive. But these weak men were weaned on the permissiveness of your society. They are criminals by occasion and opportunity, not will. They are learning their fate at the same time you are. The prison exits have been locked down. Less than thirty minutes ago we began introducing ricin into the facility’s ventilation system. As you can see, these men feel nothing yet. They smell nothing, they taste nothing. Yet you will see that in a few short hours the first of them will begin to fall ill.”
The inmates were stopping their partying. They were starting to look at one another and the vents in the walls.
Then back to Trait standing outside the penitentiary fence.
“Securing this broadcast facility was no accident. We will not be packaged and we will not be misrepresented. We will not be spun. Any provocation by your government will place your lives, perhaps those of your family and friends, directly at risk. Two targets give us one to waste if we are needlessly tested or provoked. I urge you to contact your elected officials and make your voice heard. Any transgression toward the convict township of Gilchrist, from tampering with our utilities to a full-blown military assault, will result in the genocide of an innocent American town.
“There are plenty of us left here. You need not know who or how many. Only that we are dedicated and united. Along with this land we have claimed, we are also seeking reparations from your government in the amount equal to the total annual expenditure necessary to support the facility formerly known as ADX Gilchrist. Reports put the prison budget at $68 million. That sum, plus five percent for inflation, will be paid to us each year, in perpetuity. Consider it a tribute. And from this point forward, consider this town a separate nation from the rest of your United States.
“I hope I have impressed upon you the sincerity of our mission. We have secured the town, and we have proven our resolve to you. All you have to do from here on in is what you’ve always done: Forget us. Put us out of your mind and leave us alone, and we will do the same.”
The image cut back to the prisoners roaming the Gilchrist halls, riled now, moving about in soundless confusion and anger.
Rebecca, like the others, stared dull-eyed at the screen, too shocked yet to speak. Having traveled so far that morning, they were due brighter news.
“They did it,” said Kells.
The others turned toward Rebecca, looking at him. Terry was nearest to the television. “What do you mean, ‘They did it’?”
“A bluff,” Bert said. “A fantasy. There’s no such...”
Darla shivered. “He was so calm.”
“They let the rest go,” Dr. Rosen said. “They let every-one else go, so they would be alone here. We’re the only ones left.”
“Trapped,” said Mia. She pressed against the others to get out of the small room, like a swimmer fighting toward surface air. Robert followed her out.
“What have we done?” Terry was becoming manic. “Why didn’t we stay at the inn like I said?” His hat-rumpled hair made him appear bewildered. “He led us here. He took us deeper into town, instead of out.”
They looked for Kells, but he had left the office. Darla pushed toward the doorway and the rest followed her.
Some returned to the fire, sinking deeply into chairs or just sitting on the floor, stunned. Kells remained apart from them, as always, standing on the top step of the lounge before the long hallway. A navy blue wool sweater with a seaman’s collar covered his broad chest. If he was aware of Terry’s insinuation, he did not show it. His mind was elsewhere, as though he were working through another problem entirely.
The others looked his way. Rebecca did too.
A muffled chirping noise broke the spell. Mia gasped in surprise. After a moment Rebecca looked for her cargo bag on the floor.
She unzipped the bag and dug through her clothes, finding her cell phone and feeling it vibrate in her hand. She hesitated before answering, but all eyes were on her now.
“Bee! Bee, do you believe this?” It was Jeb. He sounded far away. “Where are you now? Did you meet Trait?”