“I’d like to hear how this gizmo works,” Hickok remarked. Reaching out, he smacked a symbol that resembled a swastika. “Especially since my hide is on the line.”
“I wouldn’t hit it if I were you,” Tesla warned.
“That’s perfectly all right, sir,” A.l.v.i.s said. “My Master constructed it of a nearly indestructible alloy. A necessary precaution to protect the circuitry that permeates every spoke and rod.”
“So it’s not just a cage?” Geronimo said.
“Hardly, sir,” A.l.v.i.s said. “To be precise, it’s a matter displacement unit able to project anything within its displacement field to any point within the 4-dimensional space-time continuum. Well, within given parameters. My Master referred to the device as MABEL, which is short for Matter Alignment By Energy Light-Phase. As you will have gathered by now, he was fond of bestowing cognomens.”
“Huh?” Hickok said.
“He liked to name things,” A.l.v.i.s said. “Personally, I would have enjoyed a loftier name. Something more dignified, if you will. Byron, perhaps. Or Perceival.”
“A.l.v.i.s suits you, chuckles,” Hickok said.
Blade went over to Tesla, who was bent over the console, intently studying the dials and switches and buttons. None were labeled. “Do you still think we can take the machine apart, transport it to the Home, and reassemble it?”
“I doubt it.” Tesla regarded the banks of equipment, then swiveled the chair and stared at the time-cage. “I didn’t fully appreciate how complicated it would be. This is light years beyond my comprehension. I might be able to fathom the basics, with the robot’s help.”
“I would rather be called a synthezoid,” A.l.v.i.s said. “My Master did, after all, include organic tissue in my construction.”
“Wait,” Blade said. “You’re alive?”
“I am as sentient as you or any other human, yes,” A.l.v.i.s said. “I live. I think. I feel. Therefore, I am.”
“Incredible,” Tesla said.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your comments about moving MABEL to another location. It’s perfectly feasible. You see, MABEL need not be completely dismantled. She can be taken apart in sections. My Master designed her that way for ease of transport.”
“You don’t say,” Tesla said, sounding excited. To Blade he said, “In that case, I amend my previous answer. Yes, it appears we can transport this device….”
“MABEL,” A.l.v.i.s said.
Tesla grinned and bobbed his chin at the synthezoid. “…..can transport MABEL to the Home and reconstruct her in, say, D Block. The lower level is largely unused and contains more than enough space.”
“Good,” Blade said.
“Keep one thing in mind,” Tesla said. “Even if we do move MABEL without incident, and even if we are able to reconstruct her with A.l.v.i.s’s help, there’s no guarantee our plan will work. Much of what I proposed was theoretical in nature.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Hickok said.
“That even if things go well, all of you could still die?” Tesla grimly nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
CHAPTER 8
Three Months Later
Like a swarm of bees bustling about their hive, the Family was abuzz with activity. A momentous event would soon take place. An event that might decide whether they became yet another vestige of humanity wiped out in the aftermath of the Big Bang.
The Home, as their Founder dubbed their compound, consisted of thirty acres in northern Minnesota. Kurt Carpenter—filmmaker, survivalist, idealist, albeit with a strong pragmatic streak—had built well. High walls kept their enemies at bay. An inner moat served as an added defense. Six huge concrete bunkers, used for various purposes, occupied the western quadrant. Between the bunkers and tilled fields to the east were cabins for those with families.
That the Family still existed over a hundred years after the latest World War was proof of Carpenter’s foresight. Certain supplies and ammunition had run low, but by then the Family had joined other outposts of civilization in a mutual trade and defense pact. Called the Freedom Federation, it had been a beacon of hope in a world gone mad. Then along came Thanatos with his advanced science and hunger for power, and the Federation was severely weakened. So much so, that even though they defeated Thanatos and the Warriors slew him, when a new threat arose, an adversary unlike any other, the beacon of hope was extinguished.
Blade found it hard to accept. As a member of the paramilitary unit the Federation had created to deal with menaces to its members, he’d traveled extensively. He’d been to the Free State of California and the Civilized Zone—the central Rockies—many times. Both had standing militias and competent leaders. Yet now he couldn’t raise either, by shortwave or any other means. The waveband silence was unsettling. It was as if the Federation had been wiped off the face of the earth.
Blade couldn’t reach anyone else, either. Not the Flatheads in what was formerly Montana, or the frontiersmen who had dubbed themselves the Cavalry and claimed the territory once known as the Dakotas. Nor could he raise the Moles in their underground city.
The Family was on their own.
And never, in their century-plus existence, had they faced a threat as ominous as the Lords of Kismet.
All this went through Blade’s head as he watched Tesla and two other Family scientists perform last-minutes checks on MABEL. A.l.v.i.s literally hovered close at hand, ready with advice and anything else that might be needed.
Blade was so enrapt in the preparations he didn’t notice someone come to his side until he felt a poke in his ribs.
“A carrot for your thoughts,” Hickok said.
“Isn’t it supposed to be a penny?”
“Who carries coins around anymore?” Hickok replied. “Carrots, we’ve got plenty of.”
“I was thinking,” Blade said, “that this had better work or we’ll wind up like the rest of the Federation.”
“You’re bein’ a mite hasty,” Hickok said. “For all we know, some of the others are still kickin’.”
“It’s been too long since we heard from
