Termination Shock

“Thought it was a bomb. Thought I could disable it. Maybe give him a chance to get out of this in one piece.” Rufus stared off across the desert, replaying it in his mind’s eye. He stuck out his tongue, then, after a few seconds, pulled it back in. “He stopped.”

“What?”

“Yeah. When he saw Jules, apparently. That’s how Jules tells the story. I didn’t see nothing but the device, through the sights of my rifle, so Jules had to tell me that later.”

Saskia nodded.

“He stopped,” Rufus repeated. “Like he realized, at that instant, that people were taking shelter down in the bottom of the shaft.”

“He understood that he was about to take our lives,” Saskia said, nodding.

“I hit it three times. Just to be sure. Tore it wide open. But because of what was inside of it, he got a lethal dose of the gamma rays. Something was wrong with his leg before, he wasn’t moving right. Anyway. Down he went. In the army I learned enough about NBC—”

“NBC?”

“Nuclear-biological-chemical warfare. I didn’t want to come near any of that shit. Soon as I seen him go down I scooted down the pile into the pit under the hopper cars and sheltered in place. Drones stopped coming. I heard the sheriff driving up from Bunkhouse. Hopped down the railroad tracks, keeping the boxcars between me and any radiation, and waved ’em off. Told ’em to call in the NBC guys from Fort Bliss. White Sands. All of that. But they’d already picked up the gamma rays from the air. So NBC was already on-site.”

“The people who came and rescued us.”

“Yeah.”

“I saw the lake of yellow from the plane—”

Rufus nodded. “Sulfur’s what they got in abundance, it’s what they’re using for the first layer. Army had rad-hardened bulldozers. They brought ’em in on trains overnight.”

“Amazing.”

“What?”

“That they have such things.”

“This country is a mess,” Rufus allowed, “but it’s still one of the only outfits that can pull a fleet of lead-lined bulldozers out of its ass on short notice. They got started at first light, moving the pile over to cover the contaminated area and keep that shit from spreading on the wind. Gravel’s on its way. Later they’ll cap it with concrete.”

“The dead man?”

“Still there. Will be forever.” Rufus looked toward the table where T.R. had been talking to Mohinder and the army officer. They were looking down at maps and aerial photos, talking it over.

“Let’s talk later,” Saskia said. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“You enjoy horseback riding?”

“Love it.”

“Western style?”

“English, I’m afraid.”

“We’ll put you on Patch,” he said, “he’s as easygoing as they come.”

“I am very much looking forward to you taking me on a ride, Red,” she said as she was turning away. But she wasn’t sure that double entendres were his cup of tea. There was a stratum of society in which she had lived most of her life where that kind of persiflage was something you were expected to know how to do, just as you were expected to know how to shoot pheasants and use a finger bowl. She felt a bit stupid, just for a moment, that she’d used that sort of conversational gambit on this man who’d lived his life on the opposite pole of the world from all that. It wasn’t quite fair of her. She hesitated, thinking she really ought to just say what was on her mind in a more plainspoken way.

While she was dithering over how to phrase it, Rufus had turned his attention back to his grill. “Woo-eee!” he exclaimed, “I got a hot sausage here that’s about to bust open from the heat if I don’t take good care.”

She spun away to hide a blush and nearly collided with Pippa. There was a brief awkward moment. The Kiwi bent her long legs in a passable curtsy. “Your Majesty.”

“Royal Highness, if you’re going to be that way.”

“Royal Highness it is.”

“Pippa, is it? Short for Philippa?”

“Yes.”

“Saskia.” They shook hands. “I’m told you were a friend of the deceased. I’m terribly sorry.”

The low afternoon sun on Pippa’s freckled face made it obvious she’d been crying. But she wasn’t crying now. “Talking to the family will be difficult,” she said. “Not looking forward to that. Hope they don’t blame me.”

“Why ever would they?”

“I had some role in telling his story. Making him famous. Could be that I egged him on.”

“But surely you had no hand in this.”

“Oh, no, ma’am. Not at all. I drove out from L.A. when Red told me what was happening. Was hoping I could talk him out of it. But I got here too late.”

“Well . . . now you can tell the rest of his story,” Saskia suggested. “Even if it is a sad one.”

Pippa nodded. “Ma’am—to the extent you’re becoming part of that story now—I was wondering—”

“Go right ahead, dear,” Saskia said. “This is what I do now.”

Pippa gave a grateful nod and stepped out of her way.

“Gentlemen!” Saskia exclaimed, striding toward the picnic table. “Can anything be done? What’s that I see on that laptop?” It looked like a picture of some kind of obelisk or spire.