John Barnes - Daybreak Zero

He hated the feeling of envy that hit him at times like this. Castle Castro had the most reliable food supply in the area, and electricity some of every day. Carlucci had two great teenage kids, Paley and Acey; like others at FBI West, they sometimes went hungry and sometimes were up all night when tribal attacks threatened, and school was a matter of reading when they weren’t working, which was rare. Castro had an actual K-12 high school in the main keep there, the only problem being it taught what Castro wanted it to.

Carlucci passed through the second line of walls and buildings; the guards came to attention as he passed. Probably standard courtesy for a visiting dignitary. He couldn’t help adding, mentally, From a “foreign power.”

The path wound past greenhouses, fishponds, and animal barns; standing a siege right now might have been awkward, but if the crops in the outside fields came in and filled up their food storage this year, and with the access to the sea and all those sailboats Castro had managed to pull together, Castle Castro would be, for all practical, short-run purposes, impregnable.

The central compound and keep had been built prior to Daybreak, back when Castro had merely been a billionaire nut enacting bizarre power fantasies. Inside its steel fences, a complex maze of roads led anyone who didn’t know the system around rather than toward the big house. Wrong routes ended in cul-de-sacs under the guns of blockhouses.

The man at the front door smiled and said, “Nice to see you again, Mister Carlucci.”

“How have you been, Donald?”

“Busy, safe, and well-fed,” the man said. “The boss is in the main office. I guess you still know your way.”

Before Carlucci could knock, Harrison Castro opened the door and said, “Dave. Welcome. Come right this way.”

The breakfast table on the balcony was set with fussy precision. “Since this is bound to involve being rude to each other,” Castro said, “I thought we might as well start off with something we’d enjoy.”

They made small talk while Carlucci let himself get reacquainted with eggs, bacon, and coffee. “One small piece of business I’d like to do before the main business,” Castro said. “Tribes are getting bigger and worse everywhere, and the beating we gave them here back in June doesn’t seem to have stuck. If you need to shelter at Castle Castro against any tribal attack, the door is open to everyone under your command or protection.”

“Of course I accept,” Carlucci said. Jeez, there could be a tribal attack up from Baja any time, and I’ve got Arlene and the kids, what else can I say but “yes”? “If you remember my number two guy, Terry Bolton, I was going to have him contact your folks for some liaison. We’ve got some ops going down in Baja and you’re right, something real bad is building up.”

“I remember Terry, and if he thinks it’s bad down there, he’s not the panicking kind; it’s bad. All right, well, I’m out of the pleasant stuff.” Castro had a sardonic smile. “I suppose you’re here to place me under arrest.”

Carlucci shrugged. “Not this time, anyway. That isn’t how the law works in this case. I’m here to serve a Federal District Court order and to deliver letters from the governments at Athens and Olympia. What you do after receiving those letters is what determines whether we’d ask the court for an arrest warrant. It’s one of those things like a restraining order where the activity isn’t illegal until you’ve been told to stop and haven’t complied. At least that’s what Judge Thanh thinks. Will you accept the papers now?”

“Sure, I’ll read anything, unless by accepting them I agree to them.”

“All you do is allow me to say you weren’t unaware of the order.”

“No harm in that I can see.” He extended a hand, took the three pieces of paper, and read them. “Shall I make a statement?”

“You could send a letter within a reasonable length of time, decline to respond but send an attorney to Judge Thanh during business hours, or tell me whatever you like. Or I suppose you could declare war and have me thrown out the window.”

“Well, definitely not the last alternative. I’ll just tell you, Dave, and I trust you to report it accurately enough. The court order and the letters cite the Constitution of the United States. It’s no longer in force. The United States of America is over, Carlucci. I wish a brave, decent, honorable man like you could see that. The Constitution was created so that the people who were worth shit could run the country, but it got bent around to all kinds of other shitty, worthless purposes. So now it’s gone, and good riddance, and though I wouldn’t have asked for Daybreak before it happened, now that it has, well, from now on you can deal with the Earl of San Diego.”

“We can’t address you by that title,” Carlucci said. “Article One, patents of nobility clause. Here’s the blunt word from a Federal court: You still live in the United States of America. Our Constitution doesn’t permit private armies, hereditary sovereignty, or titles of nobility.”

Castro rose. “Can I send you on your way with some food or something?”

“Can you tell me what time it is?” Leslie asked.

“I can ,” Arnie said, “and I will as soon as I see evidence of cooperation. It’s frightening, isn’t it, not to know whether it’s day or night after a while? But, you know, we need to know what is going on—”

“Doctor Yang—Arnie—I know you don’t believe me, but I’m innocent.”

“You’re right that I don’t believe you,” he said. He smiled as if it were their private joke. “Yet. But this is only our fifth session, and you are becoming more believable. That’s at least progress.”

“I always feel so safe after you leave but by the time you come back I’m scared out of my mind again.” She shifted uneasily in her chair; his gaze stayed on her face, and the corner of his mouth turned up as if something he hadn’t quite identified wasn’t quite right. He had been sitting and watching her quietly all that time, and she realized that it had been a long time since she’d spoken. “I… I should just answer every question, and try not to guess why you ask or what you’re looking for?”

“Same rules as every other time,” Arnie said, softly. “Are you in good enough shape to do that? Have you been sleeping?”

“Too much,” she said. “A chance to run or swim or climb something would be heavenly.”

Arnie’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

“What?” she asked.

“Bad joke. I was thinking if you had a head start, you’d probably get to do plenty of running, climbing, and swimming, at least until they caught you.”

She couldn’t help it; she laughed. “All right, let’s get to work. I know I’m innocent, anyway.”

He didn’t nod or smile, but he didn’t scowl either. “All right. Think back to conversations with friends and family since Daybreak. Remember times when you’ve said that Daybreak was sort of a blessing in disguise, or not all bad, or sometimes you were maybe secretly glad it happened. Tell me exactly what you said.”

“Do you need to know who I talked to?”

“No, not at all. I’m interested in what you said. All right, so when you have been thinking about the good things about Daybreak, across these last few months, what do you think of?”

“I’m not sure I remember.”

“What do you think you might have said? Just do what you’ve done before, try not to block anything, blurt out any old thing I ask about, just relax and let your mind open to me. Now what do you say when you’re explaining the good parts of Daybreak?”