John Barnes - Daybreak Zero

The dam swooped up under her feet. A man ran with his arms around her calves for about twenty yards, soaking up her momentum, letting her weight settle onto him until he had brought her feet down to the dam. She felt a twinge of regret that the ride had not been longer.

She shook the man’s hand; talking seemed like an unnecessary risk, but she wanted him to know she was grateful.

The concrete of the path along the top of the dam gave way to the soft, damp dirt of the trail; she settled into the business of covering distance before sunrise.

Allie, what were you thinking? Allison Sok Banh wished she’d had one good friend to ask her that sometime in the last few months, before she’d decided that running the Provisional Constitutional Government by combining the Chief of Staff and First Lady duties would be a good move. God, third straight night I’ll be up past midnight. And then I can pretend to sleep on a steam train all the way to Pueblo for the next few days. Graham, her husband and the president— God I wish those were three people instead of one —was safely in bed, leaving the detail work to her. And didn’t I always want the detail work, anyway? Wasn’t that where I got my success?

Also, traditionally, where the devil lives.

“You look tired.” Darcage stood before her, impeccably groomed as always.

“I am tired. How the hell did you get past security this time?”

“That would be telling.” He did have a warm smile; probably sold shit-loads of used cars, multilevel marketing vitamins, or Jesus before Daybreak. “You look like you can barely keep your eyelids up; you must feel your whole body is made out of warm, soft lead.” His hands were so nice on her neck. “You’re just a tired staffer, just a tired bureaucrat, just a tired ambitious person, just a tired wife, that’s all. Or is it all of those and more? Look at you, your face looks like it’s running down your skull into your neck.”

“You have a way with a compliment,” she said, leaning forward to let him work the knots out.

“‘What is man, that thou art mindful of him?’” Darcage said. “Man in general, man in particular, why so much stress? Couldn’t you at least find a species that would accept your hard work and your gift of yourself, and enjoy it, and not complain that it wasn’t what they wanted or that you still haven’t done enough? Consider how much Daybreak does for those of us in the tribes; I don’t think we could exist without it. Imagine how useful the tribes could be—”

She sat back. “Good try!” Angrily, she pushed his hands away from her neck, and shook her head to clear it. Maybe tonight she’d just call security and let them have Darcage; this wasn’t working out as she’d hoped it would.

She felt his hands back on her neck again, gripped them to stop him. If she screamed now he’d never get away, but did she want to? She was so—

“Tired, aren’t you? We don’t want you to do one bit more of work. Wouldn’t it be so much easier if we could work together? After all, we want to work with you, and you want to work with us, and we can do each other so much good.”

An hour later, she woke in the guttering light of the oil lamp, head on her desk, strangely refreshed from such a short nap; she was surprised at how much work she had finished; in fact, all that remained was to sign all the typewritten orders, initial all the annotated reports, drop them in the out basket, and go to bed. Funny how she’d fallen asleep just when she was almost done, but the rest had done her so much good.

“ Officially ,” Lieutenant Seacrist told Dan Samson, “we’re just a monitoring station. Obviously we’re here because when they get that train running over the mountains to Lexington, Warsaw is going to be a major port on the Ohio.”

The palisade wall of Fort Norcross would have been easily recognizable to Daniel Boone except for the black-powder Gatling guns, the sewer-pipe mortars, and the currently retracted chain-net radio antenna that waited to be hoisted on its mast, which doubled as the flagpole. During the day, Samson had seen the flag that flew from it—the Cross and Eagle.

“In my experience,” Samson said, “an introduction about what you do officially and what you do obviously is a segue to the part about what you really do.”

“At any given time,” Seacrist said, “I have anywhere from five to thirty men patrolling and scouting on the other side. We need to stay deniable, but our business is intercepting their scouts, removing their food caches, burning the little patches of corn and beans they plant everywhere for supplies. You might say the war has already started here.”

“Where are your orders coming from?”

“Athens.” If Seacrist had stopped there, Samson would have had no opening to inquire further, but after a moment the lieutenant continued. “Program being run by a guy named Grayson, who I hope to vote for when we elect a president again. One-star general before Daybreak and now he’s the reason why we’re all Tempers here.” In the dark it was hard to see his facial features, and his voice was flat as he added, “I know you’ll tell them that in Pueblo. It’s part of your job.”

“Yep. Thanks for the loan of the kayak, and extra thanks for letting me know that I’m going into a war zone. And thanks for what you’re doing.”

“You can thank Grayson,” Seacrist said. “Your kayak’s tied up in the shadow of those willows.”

“I’m gone already.” He slung up his pack, slipped through the side gate of the fort with a handshake from the sentry, and pushed off in the kayak. Following the dim shadows of the trees out onto the river, he angled for the little cove downstream that pierced deep into an overgrown golf course. I like what you’re doing but I really like the old flag, he thought, and then, because all that was behind him, he put his back into his paddling.

Dr. MaryBeth Abrams was good company for the last three hours of freedom Heather expected this month: the ball game between the Pueblo Angels and the Fort Carson Rangers. Heather and MaryBeth were there because everyone was, because the club owner gave Heather free seats along the first base line, and because it was a fine early fall day.

“Besides,” MaryBeth said, “this way I can see that Leo is healthy as a moose, and sound confident the next time you imagine something and send Patrick after me.”

“I just don’t know very much about babies. Nobody gave me a manual, and when something’s new to me, I’d rather ask than guess.”

They watched the Angels work a double play. “Up to the level of college ball in the old days, do you think?” Heather asked.

“ Small college. Still it’s a nice day for a game. Getting cold fast, though, this year, hope they get to finish the season; they’re saying there could be snow on the ground before October.”

Fort Carson brought in its strong reliever, and the game settled into a pitcher’s duel.

Heather said. “I was kind of having a thought.”

“I don’t cure those, I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“Just curious. Seems to me we’ve got gazillions of babies lately. Besides those kids that work for me, Jason and Beth, I know four other pregnancies are happening—”

“Oh yeah. Want to know when there’s a baby boom on, ask a small town doctor. And I can tell you, there is one on . All the common methods of birth control are gone, and people love to boink too much to give it up. But my guess is we ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”