Part 27 (2/2)
”Through a neuro-headset,” Vienna said simply, and Sam could see Tyler considering that.
”Why would anyone do that?” Tyler said. ”What motivation would these people have to frame Dodge and Sam, even if it were possible?”
”Because 'these people' were the real culprits,” Vienna said. ”They were the ones who attacked Swamp Witch. Dodge and Sam figured out who they were, so to cover themselves, they implanted memories to blame Dodge and Sam.”
”I had orders from Jaggard,” Tyler protested.
”You think he doesn't have a neuro-headset?” Sam asked. ”They got at him too.”
”Even if it's true,” Tyler said, ”give yourselves up now before things get any worse. Let me take you in, and I promise that neither you nor I will go within ten feet of a neuro-headset until the end of your trial.”
”It's too late for that,” Sam said, an image of Kiwi coming into his head, his finger pointed accusingly. ”Too many people have already been affected.”
Tyler lapsed into silence and stared out the window at nothing.
Sam said, ”How do any of us know that anything is real?”
”We don't,” Dodge said.
”Everything I know is a memory,” Sam continued. ”Every person I ever met, everything I have ever done. It could all be false. Implanted.”
It was a staggering thought. What if nothing that had gone before had ever really happened? Was the person he remembered as his mother even real? Had Fargas existed only in his mind?
”I think you'd know,” Vienna said. ”I don't know why, but somehow, I think you'd know.”
Sam slept for a while and only woke when the pickup truck slowed down to the side of the road and stopped. It was already light, and he wondered where they were. An image of a road sign stuck in his mind, something they must have pa.s.sed somewhere along the way: DEATH VALLEY ROAD DEATH VALLEY ROAD.
Where was Death Valley? His waking mind struggled to put it into context. Then it came to him.
”Time to get geared up,” he said. ”There are some protective suits in the back, and we all need to wear them.”
Outside, the early-morning light glinted coldly off the barbs of a high barricade fence that straddled the highway directly in front of them.
Signs mounted on the fence said DANGER DANGER and and NO ADMITTANCE NO ADMITTANCE. A large triangular sign had a skull in one corner, a running man in another, and a radiation symbol in the third.
Farther down the highway, about twenty yards beyond the barricades, the grimy, dust-covered remains of a sign were embedded upside down in the dirt.
WELCOME TO FABULOUS LAS VEGAS, NEVADA.
41
SIN CITY
”You've got to be kidding.” Tyler was the one who said it, but Sam could see it on Dodge's face also.
Even Vienna, who had already guessed their destination, seemed unsure now that they were faced with the high barricade fence that prevented entry to the contamination zone.
At Jean, the last inhabitable town before the zone, they had turned off the highway and continued north toward Vegas on the old Boulevard until they had reached the fence.
”You scared of a little fallout?” Sam asked, keeping his voice deliberately light. In truth, he, too, was starting to wonder if this was a good idea after all.
”It's a radioactive wasteland,” Tyler said. ”A couple of hours in there and you'll start glowing in the dark.”
”Just put your suit on,” Sam said.
”No way,” Tyler said.
”Okay.” Sam smiled at him. ”If you want to go into the zone without a hazmat suit, that's up to you.”
Tyler stared at him for a moment before taking the proffered suit and mask.
”Masks too?” Vienna asked.
”I think we're okay for now,” Sam said. ”As long as all the vents are shut.”
He got out and walked to the back of the pickup truck, unhooking the tarpaulin that covered the bed, reaching inside and pulling out the electronic sensor device in the leather carrying case.
”A Geiger counter,” he said to their raised eyebrows. ”We'll monitor the radiation levels and avoid any areas that seem unsafe.” He turned the device on, which made an occasional clicking sound, and handed it to Dodge. ”There's a manual in the side pocket.”
”Who needs manuals?” Dodge replied with a grin.
”Just read it,” Sam said.
They got past the barrier simply by outflanking it. The fence extended into the distance in both directions, but Sam knew the authorities couldn't cordon off the entire desert, and the pickup's large tires had rolled effortlessly over the scrubland eastward.
Signs along the fence, every hundred yards, told of the contamination that lay beyond. They eventually reached the end of the fence and turned north until they connected up again with the old Boulevard.
The Mojave Desert surrounded them with nature's own desolation: brown, hard-packed sand, corrugated with twisted patterns and decorated with nothing but the occasional clump of brown tussock. In the distance, dark mountains brooded in the early glow of the morning.
A sense of foreboding grew as they drew closer to the scene of the worst disaster in American history.
”Are you absolutely sure this is safe?” Vienna asked nervously at one point. Out of the window to their left, they could see a freight train lying on its side in a tangle of carriages.
”The biggest problem here is the dust,” Sam replied. ”The fallout from the explosion dropped thousands of tons of radioactive dust over the city. You don't want that in your lungs or on your skin, but we should be safe in the truck with the vents shut. When we leave the truck, we can use the masks and respirators. The hazmat suits will keep the dust off our skin.”
”Are you sure that Ursula won't be able to find us here?” Dodge asked.
”I am,” Sam said. ”I did a school project on Las Vegas last year. The EMP-electromagnetic pulse-of the blast destroyed all electronic equipment. There are no computers, no cameras, no radios, nothing. In here, Ursula is blind.”
”What about satellites?” Vienna asked.
”Look up.”
The dirty haze above the desert was intensifying even further as they neared the city.
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