The Sandcat churned its way across the flatlands, twin plumes of grit curving up from the clattering metal tracks. The controlled roar of the 750-horsepower engine sounded uncomfortably loud, even through the polystyrene lining of his helmet.
Built to serve as a FAV, or Fast Attack Vehicle, rather than a means of long-distance ground transportation, the Sandcat had a low-slung, blunt-lined chassis supported by a pair of flat, retractable tracks. An armored topside gun turret concealed a pair of USMG-73 heavy machine guns. The wag’s armor was composed of a ceramic-armaglass bond which offered a shield against both intense and ambient radiation.
The interior comfortably held four people. At the front of the compartment, right beneath the canopy, were the pilot’s and co-pilot’s chairs. In the rear, a double row of three jump seats faced each other. Four Magistrates in full armor stared at each other, anxious for the nine-hour journey to end and their mission to commence.
Stenz was anxious for it, too, but only because the air-recycling system in the Cat wasn’t working at maximum efficiency. When 1 he opened the canopy, he hoped for a fresh breeze, but he wasn’t particularly surprised when he was disappointed.
Below, from the pilot’s chair, Presky called up, “Sir, we’ve got a midrange-orange rad count. You shouldn’t be exposing yourself any longer than necessary.”
Stenz did not respond, either to the young man’s words or to his tone of agitation. Presky had only been awarded his duty badge last year and had never been outside the walls of Sharpeville. As a Magistrate, he was still a cherry, not used to the rigors of duty or wearing the black polycarbonate battle armor for a longer period than weapons drills. He obviously wasn’t accustomed to traveling through a hellzone, sharing cramped, poorly ventilated quarters with five other men.
Stenz forced a bitter smile. It was a new experience for him, too. He had served in Sharpeville’s Magistrate Division for the past eighteen years, and though his hair had gone gray and his face become scarred in its service, he had never been assigned to penetrate the dark territories of Washington Hole. The D.C.-New Jersey-New York Corridor comprised the largest and most dangerous hellzone. All of the Eastern Seaboard had been hard-nuked, but Washington Hole was still the most active hot spot in the country.
Ericson had briefed him on the whats and wherefores of the op, but the whys were still incomplete. Stenz wasn’t sure if he didn’t prefer it that way.
According to Ericson, all of the nine baronies in the ville network were engaged in a cooperative mission to recce the redoubts in their individual territories for any recent signs of use or entrance.
Stenz had been stunned into dumbfounded silence when Ericson blandly mentioned the redoubts. Anyone who served in one of the ville divisions had heard whispers about the redoubts, the Continuity of Government stockpiles, perhaps even caught a murmured word here and there about the scientific marvels they contained.
Over the course of postnukecaust generations, strange stories, rumors, campfire tales circulated about these bizarre places buried deep in what were known as the Deathlands The legends claimed these subterranean enclaves were stuffed with breathtaking technological treasure troves. It was even hinted that these redoubts provided escape routes to some happy land, lying beyond the scoured hellscape of the continental United States.
When Ericson, his pale gray eyes as cold as his voice, confirmed matter-of-factly that the folk tales had a basis in reality, Stenz’s stomach slipped sideways. He went on to state that a major component of the Program of Unification had been the seeking out and securing of all redoubts within the territories of the villes. Anyone who spoke of having knowledge of them, even based on hearsay, was ruthlessly hunted down and exterminated. Inside of a generation, tales of the redoubts were suppressed to such an extent that they became baseless legends, much as stories about Atlantis and Avalon had been dismissed in earlier centuries.
Stenz felt no pride that he was being allowed to share a dark secret of humanity’s past. Fear filled him as Ericson told him more things he would have rather not known. He mentioned the Totality Concept, an umbrella designation for supersecret American military researches into many different arcane and eldritch sciences, working to ensure the safety of the United States against all aggressors. Stenz didn’t voice his opinion if that was the stated aim, then the program had failed miserably.