Wearing a gas mask and battle uniform, I skulked behind Tojo over the savannah. To my left, three Volvo C303 Field Wagons grazed peacefully next to an old anti-aircraft gun. Behind them, a Mercedes Benz crouched, ready to attack. Since this morning, the world had turned into a pandemonium of aggravating phantasms, and it was all my fault. A little bit Tojo’s fault, a little bit the CIA, but mostly, this was a clear case of mea culpa, mea maxima cluster fucking culpa.
Now, we had to fix it before it fixed us. Like Tojo said, once the EA-1729 had worn off, we weren’t thieves anymore. We were terrorists, and if we skedaddled, they’d know it was us. The only way to come out on top was to find out exactly what happened, blame it on either of IS, Al Qaeda or the Nazis, and report back to Captain Hanson.
Heh. If we played this right, we might even get a medal. Our dads would be so fucking proud, they’d have our portraits made. Devious pricks shall forever inherit the world.
Heh. If we played this right, we might even get a medal. Our dads would be so fucking proud, they’d have our portraits made. Devious pricks shall forever inherit the world.
I checked my watch.
13:28. How long since the unfortunate, psycho-chemical detonation? How long had I been awake? In general, how long does it take to have a conversation with a friend? What if that conversation was the strangest I ever had, would that make it seem longer, while in reality, it might have been shorter? Did I wake up five minutes or five hours ago? Where was Tojo, anyway? He was here a moment ago.
And why the hell is everything wet around here?
“Hey, where are you going?” Tojo called out behind me. “Get up here.”
Oops. I crawled out of the ditch, wiped my uniform the best I could and stood at attention. “310 Zander reporting for duty, corporal.”
“Sure?” Tojo tilted his gas mask, reminding me of a steampunk robot from World War 1.
“Absolutely.” My trousers were soaking wet and my boots full of mud, but I was ready. What for, I didn’t know, but ready I was. Muted pistol fire from Captain Hanson’s office suggested it might be epic drama.
Huzzah, tally-ho and a bottle of rum.
“Very well, then. Follow me.” Tojo marched to a Volvo Field Wagon and got in on the driver’s side.
I got in the passenger seat. “One question, sir. Have we cleared this with Captain Hanson? We should check up on him, maybe he’s in trouble.”
“We will.” Tojo started the Field Wagon and backed it up. “Whoa.” He stopped. “That was intimidating.”
I held onto the door strap. “Yeah. The whole car moved.”
“It came alive.”
13:28. How long since the unfortunate, psycho-chemical detonation? How long had I been awake? In general, how long does it take to have a conversation with a friend? What if that conversation was the strangest I ever had, would that make it seem longer, while in reality, it might have been shorter? Did I wake up five minutes or five hours ago? Where was Tojo, anyway? He was here a moment ago.
And why the hell is everything wet around here?
“Hey, where are you going?” Tojo called out behind me. “Get up here.”
Oops. I crawled out of the ditch, wiped my uniform the best I could and stood at attention. “310 Zander reporting for duty, corporal.”
“Sure?” Tojo tilted his gas mask, reminding me of a steampunk robot from World War 1.
“Absolutely.” My trousers were soaking wet and my boots full of mud, but I was ready. What for, I didn’t know, but ready I was. Muted pistol fire from Captain Hanson’s office suggested it might be epic drama.
Huzzah, tally-ho and a bottle of rum.
“Very well, then. Follow me.” Tojo marched to a Volvo Field Wagon and got in on the driver’s side.
I got in the passenger seat. “One question, sir. Have we cleared this with Captain Hanson? We should check up on him, maybe he’s in trouble.”
“We will.” Tojo started the Field Wagon and backed it up. “Whoa.” He stopped. “That was intimidating.”
I held onto the door strap. “Yeah. The whole car moved.”
“It came alive.”
He shouldn’t have said that. The Volvo C303 All Terrain Field Wagon was a flat-nosed, cab over engine design, which meant the engine was in here with us, and now, I felt it too. Under the hood between the seats, a terrible beast growled. Its breath smelled of gasoline and motor oil.
I turned on the radio, just in time for the end of All Along The Watchtower.
How appropriate.
“And here is the National Institute for Meteorology with a weather forecast. There are low clouds hanging over Oslo today, and they contain a fair amount of hooba balooba, dee, dee diddeli-doo dah—”
Not helpful. I switched it off.
I turned on the radio, just in time for the end of All Along The Watchtower.
How appropriate.
“And here is the National Institute for Meteorology with a weather forecast. There are low clouds hanging over Oslo today, and they contain a fair amount of hooba balooba, dee, dee diddeli-doo dah—”
Not helpful. I switched it off.
At the far side of the parking lot, a sign said ‘Officers Mess 0.1 km’. We weren’t officers, but we sure were in a mess. I pointed. “How long will it take us to get there?”
“Difficult to say. My vision is kinda blurred. Is there anything between us and the sign?”
Don’t move. Paralyzed, I stared at the hood, listening to the hungry B20 engine grumble inside. That glutton would eat me in a second. Keeping one eye on the snarling monster, I let the other eye glance up at the parking lot. It was empty. Thank God.
… or was it? I leaned forward and set the heating to Max. It might not help me see, but it would dry my pants. What was he looking for, anyway? Something to crash with? “I can’t see anything.”
“No polar bears?”
I squinted. “That’s a white Mercedes, and it’s parked. Just drive around it.”
“Here we go.” Tojo revved the engine, then let the Field Wagon jump forward. “How’s that?”
Encouraging. “One more time, sir.”
“Difficult to say. My vision is kinda blurred. Is there anything between us and the sign?”
Don’t move. Paralyzed, I stared at the hood, listening to the hungry B20 engine grumble inside. That glutton would eat me in a second. Keeping one eye on the snarling monster, I let the other eye glance up at the parking lot. It was empty. Thank God.
… or was it? I leaned forward and set the heating to Max. It might not help me see, but it would dry my pants. What was he looking for, anyway? Something to crash with? “I can’t see anything.”
“No polar bears?”
I squinted. “That’s a white Mercedes, and it’s parked. Just drive around it.”
“Here we go.” Tojo revved the engine, then let the Field Wagon jump forward. “How’s that?”
Encouraging. “One more time, sir.”
Half an hour later, having zigzagged and kangarooed our way through a group of cheering ravers dancing across the parade ground, Tojo parked in front of Captain Hanson’s office.
Remembering the gunfire coming from this location, I stood in front of the door, attempting to visualize a cost-benefit analysis in my mind.
As the lines converged in the space above my head, Tojo shattered my image to splinters. “Go on, Evan. We only have twenty-four hours until it’s all over.”
I knocked twice.
“Enter at your peril.” Captain Hanson’s muffled voice rumbled inside.
We marched through the door in a single line and stood at attention. “Reporting for duty, sir.”
On a normal day, Captain Hanson’s office would be as spotless as his acumen. Today was no exception — though both had undergone lysergic transformations, his office still mirrored his mental state.
Bullet holes in the walls bore witness to great heroics. The floor lamp lay slain in a corner, next to the landline telephone.
Remembering the gunfire coming from this location, I stood in front of the door, attempting to visualize a cost-benefit analysis in my mind.
As the lines converged in the space above my head, Tojo shattered my image to splinters. “Go on, Evan. We only have twenty-four hours until it’s all over.”
I knocked twice.
“Enter at your peril.” Captain Hanson’s muffled voice rumbled inside.
We marched through the door in a single line and stood at attention. “Reporting for duty, sir.”
On a normal day, Captain Hanson’s office would be as spotless as his acumen. Today was no exception — though both had undergone lysergic transformations, his office still mirrored his mental state.
Bullet holes in the walls bore witness to great heroics. The floor lamp lay slain in a corner, next to the landline telephone.
Captain Hanson sat behind his desk. His eyes looked like they’d pop out of his gas mask. “Why are you not in uniform?” he roared.
Hallucinating. Could be good, could be bad. “But, captain, —”
“Where are your weapons? We’re under attack here, and I’ll be damned if I let my soldiers walk around naked.” He banged his sidearm into his desk so hard, a model F-5 Freedom Fighter bounced off and fell to the floor.
I had never heard Tojo stutter. “W-we’ve got our masks on, Captain Hanson, sir, and u-under the circumstances, we thought it best to—”
“You thought? On whose orders?” Hanson eyed his pistol, twiddled it as if he’d never seen it before, then put it back on the desk with a clunk and a jingle-y, tick-tock saying ‘this weapon will never fire again’.
“No one, sir.” Tojo seemed calmer. “We’d simply be wondering what we were shooting at.”
Hallucinating. Could be good, could be bad. “But, captain, —”
“Where are your weapons? We’re under attack here, and I’ll be damned if I let my soldiers walk around naked.” He banged his sidearm into his desk so hard, a model F-5 Freedom Fighter bounced off and fell to the floor.
I had never heard Tojo stutter. “W-we’ve got our masks on, Captain Hanson, sir, and u-under the circumstances, we thought it best to—”
“You thought? On whose orders?” Hanson eyed his pistol, twiddled it as if he’d never seen it before, then put it back on the desk with a clunk and a jingle-y, tick-tock saying ‘this weapon will never fire again’.
“No one, sir.” Tojo seemed calmer. “We’d simply be wondering what we were shooting at.”
Hanson rose, marched around his desk and poked at Tojo’s chest. “Yours is not to wonder why, Corporal Roy. Yours is but to do and die, boy.”
Ah. A familiar poem. I stood at ease and declared, “Forward, the Light Brigade! Was there a man dismayed? Not though the soldier knew someone had blundered—”
Tojo nudged me in the side and wheezed. “Not now.”
“What?” Captain Hanson stared into my gas mask, apparently making sure that I was still inside. “Blundered? Who has blundered? How?”
Tojo sprang to attention. “Nothing, sir. Private Zander isn’t quite himself, today.” Turning to me, he said, in a strict, military voice, “Yours not to make reply, soldier. Idiot.”
Ah. A familiar poem. I stood at ease and declared, “Forward, the Light Brigade! Was there a man dismayed? Not though the soldier knew someone had blundered—”
Tojo nudged me in the side and wheezed. “Not now.”
“What?” Captain Hanson stared into my gas mask, apparently making sure that I was still inside. “Blundered? Who has blundered? How?”
Tojo sprang to attention. “Nothing, sir. Private Zander isn’t quite himself, today.” Turning to me, he said, in a strict, military voice, “Yours not to make reply, soldier. Idiot.”
Hanson pulled down an old dropdown map from his glory days and pointed. “This morning I was on the phone with the Department of Defense, who seems to think we’ve been the victims of a terrorist attack.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Terrorist attack my ass.”
I held my breath.
He poked his finger at the map. “This smells of west-coast sheep-shaggers all the way to Bergen. Treasonous, slimy snot-eaters. They’ve got Oslo surrounded, and all the big brass are either incapacitated or imprisoned. Men, it’s up to us. We’re the only ones with NBC competence, and we’re going to poke holes in their canisters and shove it up their asses so hard, the fart-mixed chemicals will toot out of their nostrils.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “It seems to be some kind of psycho-chemical gas, like the EA-1729.”
“EA what?”
“LSD, sir. It makes us see things that aren’t really there, and come up with crazy ideas. Even paranoia—”
Captain Hanson raised his hand. “There has never been any psycho-chemical gas stored or used in Norway.”
“Really? What do do you mean by ‘never’? Do you mean it like ‘There has never been any nuclear weapons in Norway’ or do you mean never, never ever as in, uh, never?”
“I’ve confirmed it with the PST.”
Whew. “Well, they should know, shouldn’t they? I mean, that’s good to know, sir.”
Tojo cleared his throat. “Actually, sir—”
“Shut up. Your orders are to requisition a Leopard II Battle tank, find two soldiers to man the Panzer-cannon, then penetrate into the parliament. A couple of Rheinmetall 120mm M829 depleted uranium armor piercing, fin stabilized, discarding sabot-tracer rounds ought to be enough to make those invertebrate capitulate and give up any traitors they may be harboring.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Terrorist attack my ass.”
I held my breath.
He poked his finger at the map. “This smells of west-coast sheep-shaggers all the way to Bergen. Treasonous, slimy snot-eaters. They’ve got Oslo surrounded, and all the big brass are either incapacitated or imprisoned. Men, it’s up to us. We’re the only ones with NBC competence, and we’re going to poke holes in their canisters and shove it up their asses so hard, the fart-mixed chemicals will toot out of their nostrils.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “It seems to be some kind of psycho-chemical gas, like the EA-1729.”
“EA what?”
“LSD, sir. It makes us see things that aren’t really there, and come up with crazy ideas. Even paranoia—”
Captain Hanson raised his hand. “There has never been any psycho-chemical gas stored or used in Norway.”
“Really? What do do you mean by ‘never’? Do you mean it like ‘There has never been any nuclear weapons in Norway’ or do you mean never, never ever as in, uh, never?”
“I’ve confirmed it with the PST.”
Whew. “Well, they should know, shouldn’t they? I mean, that’s good to know, sir.”
Tojo cleared his throat. “Actually, sir—”
“Shut up. Your orders are to requisition a Leopard II Battle tank, find two soldiers to man the Panzer-cannon, then penetrate into the parliament. A couple of Rheinmetall 120mm M829 depleted uranium armor piercing, fin stabilized, discarding sabot-tracer rounds ought to be enough to make those invertebrate capitulate and give up any traitors they may be harboring.”
Hm. Since battle tanks couldn’t fly, they belonged to the Army, not the Air Force. I didn’t want to tell him, but honesty got the better of me. “Sir, that Leopard is not ours, it it?”
Hanson dangled a pair of keys. “That Leopard belongs to our nation, for the purpose of defending that nation against all enemies, foreign and domestic.”
In a gas mask, nobody can see you smile.
Hanson dangled a pair of keys. “That Leopard belongs to our nation, for the purpose of defending that nation against all enemies, foreign and domestic.”
In a gas mask, nobody can see you smile.
Such weapons were not to be used against civilians, and certainly not against Norwegians. However — for the purpose of this mission, we could perhaps reclassify racists and/or troublesome shitbags as enemy combatants. Yes. That would work, provided we could find a better way to euphemize it … I peeked at Tojo, hoping he’d latch onto my train of thought.
Tojo nodded, then strolled up to the map. With a resolute, battle hardened gesture, he put his finger where the SS-Blitzkrieg office would have been in 1940. “If we take the Leopard, they’ll hear us coming from a mile away,” he said. “I believe we need something more stealthy and maneuverable.”
Captain Hanson touched the lower part of his mask. “Go on.”
Crap. I shook my mask.
Captain Hanson touched the lower part of his mask. “Go on.”
Crap. I shook my mask.
Tojo spread his fingers and waved over the map. “The Volvo C303 Field Wagon was specifically designed for rapid action, in and out commando operations. It can take a Pvpj 1110 anti-tank gun, mounted in the rear, achieving the same psychological warfare advantage as a Rheinmetall—”
“Corporal, I’m impressed.” Captain Hanson patted him on the back. “Take a Volvo C303 and may the Gods be with you. Don’t forget your guns.”
“Thank you, sir.” Tojo saluted.
I clicked my heels. “We’ll go to Hell and back for you, sir. God save the King.”
Oh, God, the King. His Majesty had to be tripping balls by now. What had we done?
“Corporal, I’m impressed.” Captain Hanson patted him on the back. “Take a Volvo C303 and may the Gods be with you. Don’t forget your guns.”
“Thank you, sir.” Tojo saluted.
I clicked my heels. “We’ll go to Hell and back for you, sir. God save the King.”
Oh, God, the King. His Majesty had to be tripping balls by now. What had we done?
As we exited the door, Captain Hanson hollered. “Wait.”
I turned. “Sir?”
“Don’t take the Volvo. You’re sitting ducks in that thing. Take the Leopard like I said.” He flung the keys through the air.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” I snatched them and slammed the door behind me before he could change his mind.
Happy, I marched behind Tojo to the Volvo and got in.
Tojo started it up and drove slowly towards the motorway exit.
Doubts raged in my mind. “Wait. Stop. Aren’t we going to do as ordered?”
“Drive a Leopard battle tank to downtown Oslo and lay waste to Parliament, high on acid?”
“Yes?” Please, please, pretty please?
“No, Evan. We’re going to stay focused and exercise sound moral judgement. Remember the bomblets?”
Bummer. “Sure, man. Just poking at your Nuremberg defences.”
“Understand this, Evan. Our future hinges on two things.”
“Uh-huh.”
“One — what happened today must never be allowed to happen again. Two — no one must die as a result of what we’ve done. Not a scratch. Not a nosebleed. Not so much as a bad hair day.”
Buzz killed, I tried to run my fingers through my hair, but failed.
I turned. “Sir?”
“Don’t take the Volvo. You’re sitting ducks in that thing. Take the Leopard like I said.” He flung the keys through the air.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” I snatched them and slammed the door behind me before he could change his mind.
Happy, I marched behind Tojo to the Volvo and got in.
Tojo started it up and drove slowly towards the motorway exit.
Doubts raged in my mind. “Wait. Stop. Aren’t we going to do as ordered?”
“Drive a Leopard battle tank to downtown Oslo and lay waste to Parliament, high on acid?”
“Yes?” Please, please, pretty please?
“No, Evan. We’re going to stay focused and exercise sound moral judgement. Remember the bomblets?”
Bummer. “Sure, man. Just poking at your Nuremberg defences.”
“Understand this, Evan. Our future hinges on two things.”
“Uh-huh.”
“One — what happened today must never be allowed to happen again. Two — no one must die as a result of what we’ve done. Not a scratch. Not a nosebleed. Not so much as a bad hair day.”
Buzz killed, I tried to run my fingers through my hair, but failed.
The Volvo bobbed back and forth as Tojo swung out onto the motorway.
If it weren’t for the gas mask, I’d have rubbed my eyes.
At first, it looked as if all the cars were parked. Some were — quite a few had the doors open, blasting dubstep and retro-synth — while others crept forward at a mellow walking speed, gently nudging half-naked, spastic dancers out of the way.
A sign said ‘Oslo 35km’.
Tojo pointed. “Where do we start?”
“The last time we counted bomblets was in front of that elevator house. We had fifty-seven, hid nine on the roof and left with twenty-four each.”
“Ellensred it is.” He steered the Volvo between the cars, merrily meandering towards the open road.
If it weren’t for the gas mask, I’d have rubbed my eyes.
At first, it looked as if all the cars were parked. Some were — quite a few had the doors open, blasting dubstep and retro-synth — while others crept forward at a mellow walking speed, gently nudging half-naked, spastic dancers out of the way.
A sign said ‘Oslo 35km’.
Tojo pointed. “Where do we start?”
“The last time we counted bomblets was in front of that elevator house. We had fifty-seven, hid nine on the roof and left with twenty-four each.”
“Ellensred it is.” He steered the Volvo between the cars, merrily meandering towards the open road.
When the motorway cleared, we made decent headway, recurrently reaching speeds close to fifty kilometers per hour. It felt like two hundred, but I made a habit of checking the speedometer with regular intervals, sometimes as often as twice per second.
‘Ellensred, 2km.’ As we approached the condemned apartment building, I took the time to read the writings on the walls.
One said, ‘Where are we supposed to live?’
‘Ellensred, 2km.’ As we approached the condemned apartment building, I took the time to read the writings on the walls.
One said, ‘Where are we supposed to live?’
I shivered at a banner, written with a blood-red marker. ‘Habitat for me and you, not luxury for the psychopathic few.’
I nudged Tojo. “What does it mean?”
“It means they’re tearing down the apartment block to make space for a villa.”
I glanced up the walls. Except for a few broken windows, the building seemed in perfect order. The sparkling, green paint couldn’t be more than two years old, and there wasn’t a dent in the plaster anywhere.
“If someone wanted to build a villa, why not build it on the hillside, in the middle of the forest?”
“The villa wouldn’t be exclusive if there were other people living here.”
“Who does stuff like that?”
“Your dad, among others. He’s got the Green Party believing apartment blocks are ugly, and therefore bad for the environment. Don’t you talk to him at all?”
“Not very often, no.” If I got out of this in one piece, I was going to pay my dues to the homeless. I’d get an honest job and live off my salary, not from usury. I’d let my tenants pay a quarter of their salary in rent, like they did in Europe.
I nudged Tojo. “What does it mean?”
“It means they’re tearing down the apartment block to make space for a villa.”
I glanced up the walls. Except for a few broken windows, the building seemed in perfect order. The sparkling, green paint couldn’t be more than two years old, and there wasn’t a dent in the plaster anywhere.
“If someone wanted to build a villa, why not build it on the hillside, in the middle of the forest?”
“The villa wouldn’t be exclusive if there were other people living here.”
“Who does stuff like that?”
“Your dad, among others. He’s got the Green Party believing apartment blocks are ugly, and therefore bad for the environment. Don’t you talk to him at all?”
“Not very often, no.” If I got out of this in one piece, I was going to pay my dues to the homeless. I’d get an honest job and live off my salary, not from usury. I’d let my tenants pay a quarter of their salary in rent, like they did in Europe.
As we began climbing the stairs, it became clear that this was going to drag on longer than initially thought. Yesterday, we had been driving around freely, stopping at six different places to hide our contraband, each taking approximately fifteen minutes. Today, however …
I checked my watch.
16:47. A ten minute ride had taken three hours, we were on the second floor and I was croaking in my gas mask, out of oxygen. I had to either sit or take it off.
16:47. A ten minute ride had taken three hours, we were on the second floor and I was croaking in my gas mask, out of oxygen. I had to either sit or take it off.
Tojo opened a door, and led me into an apartment that looked like people still lived there, were it not for the broken panorama window. If somebody did inhabit this place, they ought to at least throw the stones out and vacuum the carpet. The shards on the floor crackled under our boots as we made our way from the dining room to the living room.
The space was sparsely, but tastefully furnished with one sofa, two chairs and a glass table, all in impeccable condition and all from Ekornes’ catalog, not IKEA’s. In fact, the von Schnauzens back home had the exact same furniture before that cat came in and ruined it.
It was comfortable, too, as I lowered my aching butt into the left chair and crossed my legs.
The visions and mood swings were almost gone, probably due to my intense concentration on the task at hand.
It was comfortable, too, as I lowered my aching butt into the left chair and crossed my legs.
The visions and mood swings were almost gone, probably due to my intense concentration on the task at hand.
Tojo sat facing me. He didn’t seem very perturbed, either, but then again, Tojo Roy was Tojo Roy, fearless action hero and Dalai Lama in one. His great-grandfather had been instrumental in bringing the British Empire to its knees with no weapons but a superior mindset and more courage per person than a boat-load of drunken vikings. If anyone could bring this situation to a successful conclusion, it would have to be Tojo Roy.
As for me, the thought of crawling up fourteen more stairs weighed me down like a two ton anchor. Perhaps it could be avoided. “Tojo, I’m beginning to think that this is not the place, man. I think the bomblets are still on top of the elevator house, untouched and secure.”
“Interesting.” Tojo leaned forward. “What makes you think that?”
“If a homeless person manages to climb all the stairs to the roof, he might want to sleep inside an elevator house, but never on top. Disregarding his exposure to the elements — he simply won’t have the energy to get up there.”
“Meaning?”
“That we have found at least one ideal place to hide the bomblets.”
He pointed to the debris on the floor. “What happens if they tear down the building?”
“Our bomblets will go off, and Karma will once again find its way to Oslo.”
Tojo nodded. “For once, we agree. It is now up to us to ensure the welfare of this vital piece of infrastructure.”
“I’ll speak to father.”
“Good. However—” Tojo rose and wiped off his trousers. “That is no excuse to sit on our asses, making assumptions about things we haven’t verified. Let’s go.”
I sighed, and followed him out into the corridor, up the next flight of stairs, then the next, then the next, heaving for breath, hoping my gas mask would either explode or spread wings and fly me off to Hell.
“Interesting.” Tojo leaned forward. “What makes you think that?”
“If a homeless person manages to climb all the stairs to the roof, he might want to sleep inside an elevator house, but never on top. Disregarding his exposure to the elements — he simply won’t have the energy to get up there.”
“Meaning?”
“That we have found at least one ideal place to hide the bomblets.”
He pointed to the debris on the floor. “What happens if they tear down the building?”
“Our bomblets will go off, and Karma will once again find its way to Oslo.”
Tojo nodded. “For once, we agree. It is now up to us to ensure the welfare of this vital piece of infrastructure.”
“I’ll speak to father.”
“Good. However—” Tojo rose and wiped off his trousers. “That is no excuse to sit on our asses, making assumptions about things we haven’t verified. Let’s go.”
I sighed, and followed him out into the corridor, up the next flight of stairs, then the next, then the next, heaving for breath, hoping my gas mask would either explode or spread wings and fly me off to Hell.
Four pauses and a million steps later, I stood in front of the elevator house, looking at the ladder we had used. “I was so sure we had put it back inside.”
“We did. Something is wrong here.”
My heart sank as I climbed to the top and looked around. The lunchbox was there, but it had been knocked over and the lid was open.
Empty. I held it up for Tojo to see.
Tojo hollered. “Any sign of explosions? Burn marks? Empty shells?”
I shook my head and climbed back down.
Tojo paced back and forth, mumbling in his mask.
It wasn’t like him to act so bewildered. He always knew what to do, and to see him like that, walking in circles like a headless chicken was more than I could bear.
I grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his gasmask. “Please, say something I can understand.”
He stared back. “This changes everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“We may have been followed. Evildoers. Bloody Bandits. Hateful highwaymen. Pillaging pirates and criminals.”
Oh, fuck. All I wanted now, was to run back and forth like a headless chicken on a carousel. “All the other bomblet could be gone. Stolen by real thieves. Good Lord.”
He nodded. “And if there is a mention of Guard Moan Air Base in a forgotten, long declassified document somewhere at Edgewood Arsenal or wherever the MK-ULTRA had their headquarters, that will inevitably trace back to us, not to whoever stole our bomblets.”
“We’re fucked, aren’t we?”
“No. We’re stooping over barrels with our pants around our ankles and our knees spread wide, but we’re not fucked. Not yet.” The old Tojo was back.
Good. “Perhaps we should check the other caches?”
“In decreasing order of conspicuity.”
“What?”
“The dorm first. Let’s go.” He jogged to the door, opened it and gestured. “Après vous.”
“We did. Something is wrong here.”
My heart sank as I climbed to the top and looked around. The lunchbox was there, but it had been knocked over and the lid was open.
Empty. I held it up for Tojo to see.
Tojo hollered. “Any sign of explosions? Burn marks? Empty shells?”
I shook my head and climbed back down.
Tojo paced back and forth, mumbling in his mask.
It wasn’t like him to act so bewildered. He always knew what to do, and to see him like that, walking in circles like a headless chicken was more than I could bear.
I grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his gasmask. “Please, say something I can understand.”
He stared back. “This changes everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“We may have been followed. Evildoers. Bloody Bandits. Hateful highwaymen. Pillaging pirates and criminals.”
Oh, fuck. All I wanted now, was to run back and forth like a headless chicken on a carousel. “All the other bomblet could be gone. Stolen by real thieves. Good Lord.”
He nodded. “And if there is a mention of Guard Moan Air Base in a forgotten, long declassified document somewhere at Edgewood Arsenal or wherever the MK-ULTRA had their headquarters, that will inevitably trace back to us, not to whoever stole our bomblets.”
“We’re fucked, aren’t we?”
“No. We’re stooping over barrels with our pants around our ankles and our knees spread wide, but we’re not fucked. Not yet.” The old Tojo was back.
Good. “Perhaps we should check the other caches?”
“In decreasing order of conspicuity.”
“What?”
“The dorm first. Let’s go.” He jogged to the door, opened it and gestured. “Après vous.”
##
The Blind Eagle University dorm, our old hangout, lay on the other side of town.
Which meant driving through the city center.
Which meant driving through the city center.
Tojo drove with confidence now, using both the third and fourth gear, occasionally reaching speeds of 100 kilometers per hour. This was much too fast for the difficult driving conditions, but, considering the urgent nature of our business, I let it slide and sat back, listening to the radio.
“This is the National Institute for Meteorology with an update. From 18:00 onwards, an evening breeze is expected to blow the, um, I’ll try once more to say it, uh, lysergic, aspergic, soody-loody, hum, hum, beep—” The music came back on.
Perhaps I should tell Tojo that he was going twenty kilometers over the speed limit? Nah. He seemed so happy, I’d better leave him alone.
“This is the National Institute for Meteorology with an update. From 18:00 onwards, an evening breeze is expected to blow the, um, I’ll try once more to say it, uh, lysergic, aspergic, soody-loody, hum, hum, beep—” The music came back on.
Perhaps I should tell Tojo that he was going twenty kilometers over the speed limit? Nah. He seemed so happy, I’d better leave him alone.
Bad call. Two blocks ahead, a cop car blocked the road, blinking blue, resentfully.
Next to the car, a cop in a gas mask swung his baton.
I called out. “Hey, a policeman.”
“Where?” Tojo moved his head back and forth so fast, his mask wobbled.
“There.” I pointed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me harder, faster. “We’re sitting ducks, too, like captain Hanson said. I knew we should have taken the Leopard tank.”
“Why?” Tojo stopped the car and looked at me. “So we could blast the policeman with a 120mm M829 depleted uranium armor piercing, fin stabilized round, thereby rendering this part of town uninhabitable for sixty-five thousand years?”
I sighed. “We should at least have taken the MP5s.”
“Violence begets violence, Evan. Remember, we’re not only responsible for our own actions today; we’re also responsible for theirs. Courage is the soldier’s best weapon. Now, face your fears and exit the vehicle.”
“Yes, corporal.” I opened the door.
The cop came running, waving his arms, shouting. “Covering your face is illegal.”
Next to the car, a cop in a gas mask swung his baton.
I called out. “Hey, a policeman.”
“Where?” Tojo moved his head back and forth so fast, his mask wobbled.
“There.” I pointed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me harder, faster. “We’re sitting ducks, too, like captain Hanson said. I knew we should have taken the Leopard tank.”
“Why?” Tojo stopped the car and looked at me. “So we could blast the policeman with a 120mm M829 depleted uranium armor piercing, fin stabilized round, thereby rendering this part of town uninhabitable for sixty-five thousand years?”
I sighed. “We should at least have taken the MP5s.”
“Violence begets violence, Evan. Remember, we’re not only responsible for our own actions today; we’re also responsible for theirs. Courage is the soldier’s best weapon. Now, face your fears and exit the vehicle.”
“Yes, corporal.” I opened the door.
The cop came running, waving his arms, shouting. “Covering your face is illegal.”
True. In order to outlaw burkas without singling out an ethnic group, our xenophobic government had been forced to describe burkas as ‘cloth, mask or other attire obscuring the facial features’. Later, they had provided exonerations for the time between the twenty-second and twenty-fifth of December, and only for masks depicting Father Christmas in supermarkets. Well, what the hell. This was July. I removed my mask and took a deep breath.
As Tojo did the same, the policeman jumped back and reached for a gun he didn’t have.
As Tojo did the same, the policeman jumped back and reached for a gun he didn’t have.
No comments:
Post a Comment