Deadman

After shaking my hand, Masters, walked down the line to introduce himself to the rest of the people who’d gathered from STAR territory to meet him and the rest of the Remnant leadership. That left me standing there confused. What had he meant when he said that I was the man who was going to help bring America back to life?

The remaining four members of the cabinet began making their way down the line as well. First greeting Leah, then Boyd, then myself. They seemed less interested in talking than Masters, simply giving me their names and exchanging simple pleasantries before continuing down the line.

Only one of them, Matthews, did anything out of the ordinary. She opened her helmet, revealing a woman in her mid thirties with black hair and circular glasses. She turned my hand over after we shook and stared at it.

“Fascinating,” she muttered with her eyebrow raised.

I raised my own nonexistent eyebrow, but she didn’t notice the gesture and instead continued down the line. Of the cabinet, three were men, and two were women. Masters was clearly the one in charge, but whether their deference to him was something formal or informal, I couldn’t tell. Either way, while they worked their way up and down the rows of sycophants, I approached Leah.

“What was Masters talking about?” I asked.

“I was planning on briefing you along with the rest of the cabinet after they were done introducing themselves here. Masters shouldn’t have mentioned anything yet. The jist of it is, that we have a job for you.”

That wasn’t a surprise. I’d figured even from when she approached me in Jasper that there would be a job involved at some point. Sure I was a ‘representative’ for Potts, but I was also a ‘representative’ of getting shit done. The latter role was definitely the one I was more suited for.

“The Remnants are based in space?” I asked.

Leah nodded. “It was one of the old governments crowning achievements. Putting a self sustaining station in orbit, and getting our best people up there. We’ve been monitoring things from there for quite some time. What we were able to monitor anyway.”

Before I could question her further, the Cabinet, the Remnant soldiers that landed with them, and the STAR personnel all started moving away from us.

Leah gestured at Graves, who nodded and moved back toward the Shrike. He started it up, ascended and flew ahead to whatever the destination was. She then gestured for me to follow her, which I did.

The procession made its way a little less than a mile, to about a dozen trucks that had been altered into transports that could fit the heavily armored members of the Remnants, and a series of camouflage tents. Different people filtered into each tents, and Leah led me directly to the one I saw the members of the cabinet enter. Masters was standing outside making a bit of last minute smalltalk with Boyd who shot me a look when I entered. I responded with a toothy smile that made the color drain from his face.

The tent was mostly bare, filled mostly by Remnant guards in power armor, as well as a large table and some chairs.

The cabinet’s helmets all hissed opened, and Matthews laid down a long flat screen on the table. She pulled a cord from her armor, and plugged it into the screen which hummed to life as it activated, showing a map that looked both familiar and alien at the same time, which I recognized as a depiction of the area directly east and west of The Cut. The rest of the cabinet were at different positions around the table, murmuring to one another just too quietly for me to hear. Masters reentered and sat gesturing for us to take a seat at the side of the table opposite to him, which we did.

“Well Donovan, first off I just want to say how much we appreciate a representative of Pott’s being here, and that we are extraordinarily thankful for all the good you’ve done for our country already,” said Masters, his smile still wide and seemingly genuine.

“I mostly did it for the points and the scrap,” I offered.

Masters didn’t miss a beat. “Honesty, such a uniquely American virtue.”

That hadn’t been my experience, but I let him speak.

“I know you just got everyone’s names a little bit ago, but I want to clarify for you, and our friends in Pott’s, the role each of us in the cabinet plays.” He gestured to Matthews who was still standing and operating the map screen. “Matthews is our Chief of Science and Technology,” He gestured toward the man nearest to Leah and me to a man with a dour expression and sunken eyes, “Adams is our Chief of Patriotism,” he gestured to a woman to his right with long blonde hair, “Ms. Slate is our Chief of Commerce,” and he pointed to the man on his left, a bald man with a square head and a scar on his left cheek, “Last, but not least, is Mr. Curtis, our Chief of diplomacy. He’s the one that drafted the initial agreement with Potts.”

“And you?” I asked.

Masters’ smile widened slightly. “I’m the Chief of Reclamation.”

I nodded. I could tell they were all expecting me to be impressed, but so far the only thing that I found worthy of note about the Remnants was their technology. Aside from Leah, and Graves, they seemed to be a group that hid in space while the planet went to shit and were now expecting to roll back in and take back over. Still, the tech may really be all the edge they needed to be respected, not to mention that I had no idea how many of them were still in space. Keeping things neutral for the Deadmen, and playing it safe was definitely still the right play.

“And what is it you want from me?”

Leah stood and pointed at the map. “This is what we need from you.”

I stood and looked at what she was pointing at. I referenced the point in my mind and realized it was the western most bunker I’d seen on the map I’d found in the bunker back when I first became a Marshall. That meant old, probably dangerous, tech. That made my teeth itch, but that was just the start of it.

“That’s west of The Cut,” I noted incredulously.

“Is that what the locals call it?” asked Masters. “Interesting.”

“Did Leah tell you anything about it? It’s a deadzone. Cuts the country in half from East to West. Rads are beyond anything anywhere else, and it’s not called ‘The Cut’ for nothing. It’s a gorge, a deep rend in the Earth. It’s full of monsters and horrors. We get a taste of them over in Pott’s every once in a while. It isn’t pretty.”

Masters nodded. “Leah told us.”

“I understand that you may take it as a given that people will do as you ask, but I don’t owe your version of the US of A anything, and as far as I know going to The Cut is a death sentence.”

Adams stood, causing the table to shake violently. “You owe EVERYTHING to it.” His voice was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

Masters held out a hand for Adams, who managed to calm himself and sit back down. I simply stared at him impassively. Outbursts didn’t impress me much.

“If you need to get over there, why don’t you send a Shrike? Or even have one of your landing craft arrive there?” I asked.

Matthews shook her head. “Too many variables. None of our monitoring equipment seems to function properly on that side of the cut. The entire area is invisible to us, a complete unknown.”

“So it’s as unknown to you as it is to us, and no one has ever crossed The Cut to let us know what was on the other side.”

“Someone has made it across,” said Masters

“What?” I asked.

“Less than a month ago we found a man that we believe came across the cut from the other side,” responded Leah.

The Cut represented the edge of my world. A barrier beyond which lay the unknown. In spite of the situation I found myself in, surrounded by tentative allies, and honest betrayers, I was suddenly excited. I took a moment to tone it down and calm myself. However strong my desire to move, and explore may be, I didn’t work for free, and I did my best not to operate blind. I needed more information. “Where is he?”

“He’s here, in one of the other tents. He’s hurt and having difficulty answering questions. Though even beyond that he refuses to answer certain questions until he speaks to one of the other Resurrected. We’re hoping you might have better luck speaking with him.”

“Why’s that?” I could certainly do some good work as an interrogator, but I wasn’t exactly a diplomat.

“We think the Chosen are deadmen.”