David Robbins - The Kalispell Run

“Oh,” Angier said, “the boundaries aren’t clearly defined, but generally the Civilized Zone is made up of the former states of Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, southern Wyoming, eastern Arizona, New Mexico, and the northern half of a state once called Texas.”

Blade envisioned one of the maps from an atlas in the Family library.

“What about the rest of the United States?”

“I’ve heard that the state of California refused to submit to Samuel’s new federal organization. They’re now calling themselves the Free State of California. Another state, one called Utah, was taken over by a religious group known as the Mormons. They told Samuel to get stuffed. I don’t know much about the remainder of the states. East of the Mississippi is a complete mystery. We sent a few patrols there years ago, but none ever came back. All we have are rumors, and if they’re true you wouldn’t want to go east of that river.”

“Why do you have outposts all over the place?” Blade asked. “Like the one in Thief River Falls, and the others ringing the Twin Cities?”

“We’re keeping an eye on everybody.” Angier grinned. “Biding our time. Waiting and watching. That’s why the people in the Twin Cities call us the Watchers. Catchy name, isn’t it?”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Until we’re strong enough to reconquer the country.”

“What?”

Angier laughed at Blade’s surprised expression. “What else did you expect, dummy? Samuel has a grand plan to retake control of the entire country within fifteen years. If he had enough troops and hardware he’d do it tomorrow. As it is, we send out patrols. When they discover inhabited communities, like yours, we set up monitoring posts to learn as much as we possibly can about their numbers and strength. We keep a file on every populated spot we find.”

Blade leaned forward. “But how do you learn so much? You seem to know all about the Family, even to knowing some of our names and whether we’re Warriors or not. How could you learn all that?”

“It’s easy,” Angier replied, “with the technology we have at our disposal.”

Blade recalled a comment made by Gremlin. “Spy in the sky and parabolic ears,” he stated.

Angier nodded. “Then you know what I’m talking about?”

“Not quite,” Blade admitted. “What are they?”

“A spy in the sky is a satellite. Do you know what a satellite is?”

“I’ve read about them.”

“We have several still in operation. They’re used for taking high-altitude photographs, and you wouldn’t believe the resolution on these babies! They can pick up something the size of your hand from way, way up there.”

Blade remembered an incident on the run to the Twin Cities. “What would one of these satellites look like if you saw it?”

“Saw it? They’re hard to spot with the naked eye, but if you did see one it would look like a dot of light moving across the sky. Why?”

“I saw one once,” Blade told him. All the time, so many of the answers were right in front of his face and he failed to realize it. “What’s a parabolic ear?”

“A parabolic microphone.”

“A microphone?” Blade repeated.

“Yeah. They can hear sounds at great distances. I’ve used one that would detect a whisper at five hundred yards.”

“So that’s how you did it,” Blade said. “You set up one of your listening posts in the forest surrounding the Home. And we never knew!”

“How were you to know?” Angier remarked. “Like I said, I’ve seen the file on your Family. We’ve been monitoring you for years. That wall of yours presented a problem…”

“Your microphones can’t listen through brick?” Blade said, interrupting.

“Not very well, no. But I remember you people have a…” Angier paused, striving to recollect the word he wanted.

“A drawbridge,” Blade finished for him. “And whenever we had the drawbridge down, like for working outside the Home clearing the perimeter or whatever, you simply aimed this parabolic thing at the opening in the wall.”

“Exactly.” Angier nodded. “We’ve recorded hours and hours of monitored conversations. You wouldn’t believe how much we learned.”

“Yes, I would,” Blade commented.

“Hey! Don’t take it so hard. Your group isn’t the only one, you know. We have files on inhabited towns and communities in your state of Minnesota, in North and South Dakota, and Montana. Samuel intends to take them over first because they’re the least populated. Well do it one community at a time, until eventually well reconquer the entire United States,” Angier said proudly.

“I take it you’ve already started?”

“You mean the Flatheads? Yes. They were the largest group in the target states. Samuel apparently plans to take the big fish first, then work our way down to the little minnows like your Family.”

“You sound happy about it,” Blade mentioned. “I thought you didn’t like the guy.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Angler said. “I don’t much like living under a dictator, but at least our society is orderly. It’s progressive, unlike this mess you’ve got out here. I know my family is safe when I’m sent on field duty, and I also know the Government will take care of them if something should happen to me.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve traded freedom for security,” Blade observed.

Angier straightened, his jaw muscles clenching.

Blade knew he’d struck a nerve. He couldn’t afford to antagonize the man now! He had to keep the conversation going. “I want to thank you for taking the time to explain all of this to me. It has really opened my eyes. But there are still some things I don’t understand.”

“Like what?”

“Lake Gremlin and the Doktor,” Blade said. “How do they fit in?”

Angier quickly glanced outside, ensuring Gremlin was still off sleeping.

“Why do you get so antsy around him?” Blade asked.

“I’ve got to be sure I’m out of range of that damn collar,” Angier answered.

“The collar?”

“That’s how the Doktor control his freaks, his creations. Gremlin is a G.R.D.,” Angier stated, as if that would account for everything.

“What’s a G.R.D.?”

“It stands for Genetic Research Division,” Angier responded. “The Doktor’s personal unit. They give me the creeps!” he reiterated.

“What does the Doktor use this Genetic Research Division for?” Blade inquired, eager to keep the momentum going, afraid Angier would decide he’d talked enough and clam up.

“Anything he wants,” Angier answered. “He makes ’em, he can do whatever he wants with the damned things.”

“What do you mean, he makes them?”

“Just what I said. He creates them in his lab.”

“You’re joking,” Blade remarked. “No one can create life.”

Angier fixed Blade with a steady gaze. “Believe me, Warrior, you haven’t the slightest idea of the Doktor’s capabilities. You shouldn’t doubt me. If memory serves, you and your friends are responsible for wasting four of the Doktor’s pets in Thief River Falls.”

“What?” Blade recalled the four hairy monstrosities Angier alluded to, one of which almost killed him. “You mean the Brutes?”

“We call them Rovers,” the Lieutenant explained. “We use them for tracking and patrol duties. They’re some of the Doktor’s earlier handiwork. Not very bright, but loyal and obedient. Gremlin is a different story. He’s one of the recent models. As you saw for yourself, the Doktor’s made a lot of improvements.” Angier’s voice dropped to a horrified whisper. “The man is a devil, maybe the Devil! I’ll never understand why Samuel took him into his confidence, into his inner circle of advisers.”