David Robbins - Armageddon Run

“You did what?” Joshua asked, horrified by the transformation now contorting the Doktor’s facial features. His eyes were wild and unfocused, his nostrils were flaring, and his lips were trembling.

“It was I, boy!” The Doktor suddenly cackled. “In the entire history of this planet, my genius has never been surpassed! Einstein was a mental midget compared to me! What Beethoven was to music, and Tesla was to electricity, I have been to the art of war! The ancient Greeks were right in worshiping a god of war, because there is a god of war, boy, and…” The Doktor paused and glared at Joshua. “I… am… he!”

Joshua inadvertently recoiled, shocked by the sheer madness reflected on the Doktor’s visage.

“I am the only god you will ever know,” the Doktor stated.

“But you’re not a god!” Joshua said, disputing him. “You’re a man, just like me! The Spirit of God indwells us, but this indwelling doesn’t make us gods.”

“Oh?” The Doktor’s right eyebrow arched upward. He grinned and reached out with his right hand, gripping Joshua by the throat. “Do you know that if I had slapped you with all my strength a moment ago, your head would be rolling in the ditch?” He began squeezing Joshua’s neck, slowly, enjoying himself, savoring the hint of fear in Joshua’s eyes. “You dare babble to me about God? How old are you, boy? Twenty-five?

Certainly not over thirty. Compare your age to mine. Which one of us do you think is the wiser?”

Joshua was attempting to break the Doktor’s steely clamp on his throat, without success. He smashed his fists again and again on the Doktor’s arm and hand, but it was like striking a tree trunk; it hurt his fists and the Doktor gave no indication he felt a thing.

The Doktor’s tone lowered, returning to normal after his unprovoked outburst. “Believe me, Joshua, when I tell you there is no God. I learned the truth at an early age, when my parents were killed by a hit-and-run driver. A beneficent Supreme Being would hardly allow such calamities to transpire. Ergo, the Supreme Being does not exist. Circumstance and probability are the rule of the cosmos.”

Joshua’s face was turning red, his efforts to free himself growing weaker by the second and his lungs desperate for air.

“Don’t worry, boy,” the Doktor told him. “You won’t die. Not yet, anyway. I have a special treat in store for you when you awaken. You’ll thank me for the honor I will bestow upon you.”

Joshua gasped once and went limp.

“I really should thank you ,” the Doktor said, and released his hold.

Joshua tumbled to the road and sprawled on his stomach.

Clarissa and Thor approached the Doktor.

“Is he dead?” Clarissa inquired in her strangely sibilant tone.

“Not yet.” The Doktor smiled. “We owe this moron a debt of gratitude, and you know I always repay my debts.”

“Gratitude?” Clarissa repeated, puzzled.

“The fool revealed critical information,” the Doktor explained. “He confirmed my suspicions about the Family and Lynx. I knew Lynx had required assistance in escaping from the Biological Center and stealing the thermo unit, but I couldn’t imagine who possessed such audacity.

Several witnesses reported that a man had helped Lynx. One couple even claimed Lynx had given them a message to deliver, something about Lynx and someone else ‘sending their love.’ Unfortunately for them, they weren’t able to accurately recall the name of the other party. The husband said it was Dama, while the woman maintained it was Lama. Imbeciles! I knew better!”

“Who was it?” Clarissa wanted to know.

“Yama, one of the Warriors from the Family.”

“A Warrior entered the Citadel!” Clarissa said, marveling. “You were right, then, and Samuel was wrong.”

The Doktor snorted derisively. “Samuel may falsely believe he rules the Civilized Zone, but the simpleton couldn’t locate his rectum in broad daylight without a diagram of his anatomy! I warned him, repeatedly, the Family should be eliminated. But no! He knew better! The Cavalry comes first, he said! So there we were, preparing for our march on the Cavalry, with most of our military hardware lined up like sitting ducks outside the Biological Center, and what happens?” he demanded rhetorically.

“Yama and Lynx blew it up,” Thor commented, and immediately regretted it. He saw the Doktor’s jaw muscles tighten and feared a raging outburst.

Amazingly, the Doktor smiled. “Yes, they did, leaving Samuel with a skeleton force at his disposal. Thanks to them, we’ll have minimal opposition when we reach Denver and dethrone Samuel.” He chuckled. “I happen to think I’ll make an outstanding ruler. Don’t you?”

“Of course,” Clarissa agreed.

“Yes, Doktor,” Thor concurred.

The Doktor nudged Joshua with his right toe. “Thanks to him, I know Plato has my notebooks. It’s too bad the boy won’t be around in ten days when my little surprise is unleashed on the Home. I’ll get my notebooks back and my revenge on Plato and the Warriors at the same time!” The Doktor laughed and laughed. “I can hardly wait! It’s lamentable we must attend to business in Catlow first, but I wouldn’t consider depriving the fools of the chance to spring their trap on us.”

“You know it is a trap?” Clarissa asked. “Yet we walk into it anyway?”

“I suspected an ambush,” the Doktor declared. “Joshua’s presence confirms the likelihood. Don’t worry! The Warriors and Lynx may be working in concert, but what can they do against two hundred and thirty-five primary members of my Genetic Research Division and one hundred soldiers from our Auxiliary?”

“If only we knew what they were up to,” Clarissa remarked.

The Doktor stared northward. “I was aware they were up to something when our last monitoring patrol sent to the Home didn’t return. But it really doesn’t matter. There is nothing they can do against our superior force.”

“Why not use a thermo on Catlow?” Thor queried.

“Because we don’t have any left,” the Doktor said, frowning. “The units were obliterated with the Biological Center, although the possibility exists Lynx and Yama absconded with one or two.”

“You owe the Family for a lot,” Clarissa noted.

“Yes, I do,” the Doktor growled, clenching his fists. “And I vow to repay them for every insult, starting with him.” He pointed at the unconscious Empath.

Thor extended his sledgehammer. “Do I finish him?”

“No,” the Doktor responded. “Fetch some wood.”

“Wood?”

“Yes. Two lengthy planks will do. Strip a pair of floor planks from one of the trucks if necessary.”

“Yes, Doktor.” Thor departed.

“Why wood?” Clarissa questioned the Doktor.

He indicated the sagebrush-covered fields adjacent to the highway.

“Because there is nary a tree in sight, dear girl. Two planks will suffice adequately.”

Clarissa licked her lips. “Will there be much blood?”

The Doktor nodded. “Yes, but we can’t linger while you quench your thirst.”

“On to Catlow?”

The Doktor’s expression hardened. “On to Catlow!”

“It sure is quiet around here with everybody else gone,” Bertha commented, cradling her M-16 in her arms.

“I like the quiet,” Rudabaugh said. “I never was much for city life.”

The sun was hovering above the western horizon and the air was becoming a bit chill.

“Why do you think the Doc ain’t hit us yet?” Bertha asked, keeping her eyes trained on the surrounding countryside. They were at the extreme southern edge of Catlow, alongside U.S. Highway 85. Rudabaugh had dug a hole in the ground and was carefully planting a bundle of dynamite in the hole.