guards and such. These units would snap to action as quickly as the small parade of vehicles approached.
Those that could, caught a brief glimpse of the be-medaled and beaming visiting Governor, the young girl in the frilly white dress on his left who was waving somewhat stiffly, and the man in the religious robes, who was simply staring out at them, his face a bucket of confusion.
The motorcade passed the halfway mark and turned onto the main street which would bring it directly into downtown Fuhrerstadt. There, waiting at the main headquarters of the occupying German forces, was the Amerikafuhrer himself, the hermit Supreme Commander of Fourth Reich America. The plan called for him to greet the First Governor at the top step of the gigantic Reichstag, and then usher him and his entourage into the main dining hall for a four-hour, twelve-course state brunch.
But very soon, that plan would go awry.
The motorcade was about a half mile away from the Reichstag when the First Governor leapt to his feet and commanded the limo driver to stop the car. The man unquestioningly obeyed, screeching the vehicle to a halt so sharp, he was nearly ejected out the front window.
As the security people in the first two vehicles turned around in horror, they saw the First Governor's limo take a
92
very unscheduled right turn off the main street and toward the largely abandoned west side of the city.
When the security chief radioed back to the limo to ask why it had veered off course, the First Governor himself took the call.
"This is where my work will begin," he told the security man calmly. "Perhaps you should all follow and learn something."
By the time the scout cars, the APC, and the ambulance turned off the main street, the First Governor's limo was roaring through the deserted streets.
Its driver following directions personally called out by the top man via the car's radiophone. Two security helicopters had now joined the pursuit, alerted that something might be terribly wrong in the motorcade.
The choppers reached the limo's position roughly the same time the ground units did. They found the car had pulled over a dirty smoking truck, the First Governor apparently intent on questioning the driver.
Upon arriving, the security forces bounded from their vehicles and set up a hasty protective ring around their charge. They were horrified to see that the truck the First Governor had stopped was actually a morgue wagon, carrying the nightly fatalities from Dragon's Mouth prison to the mass grave on the other side of town. Even more amazing, the First Governor himself was out of his protective limo and was engaged in an animated conversation with the lowly vulture driving the sputtering hearse.
"How many of them are dead?" the First Governor asked the driver.
"All of them, I think," the totally stupefied man replied.
"Lay them out," the First Governor ordered the man. "Lay them right out on this street for all to see."
The confused, yet savvy, security men didn't have to be told to help. They practically knocked aside the driver and his goon assistant in their rush to take the two dozen bodies off the truck. Each corpse was wrapped in a dirty white sheet and sealed inside a reusable fiberboard box. These coffins had been recycled so often, however, that their lids barely stayed on.
Once the dead were arrayed in a long straight line down the middle of the road, the First Governor addressed the fifty or so people, security men and NS
street troops from the parade route, in a loud, ringing voice.
"We are water," he declared definitively. "We come from the water, which in turn, comes from the stars. Just as water gives us life at birth, it can too give us life after death."
The security troops tried to remain looking grim, but it was hard to do when the First Governor's actions seemed so baffling. The six doctors who'd followed the scene in the rolling operating room had drawn out their own diagnosis of the First Governor's
Those that could, caught a brief glimpse of the be-medaled and beaming visiting Governor, the young girl in the frilly white dress on his left who was waving somewhat stiffly, and the man in the religious robes, who was simply staring out at them, his face a bucket of confusion.
The motorcade passed the halfway mark and turned onto the main street which would bring it directly into downtown Fuhrerstadt. There, waiting at the main headquarters of the occupying German forces, was the Amerikafuhrer himself, the hermit Supreme Commander of Fourth Reich America. The plan called for him to greet the First Governor at the top step of the gigantic Reichstag, and then usher him and his entourage into the main dining hall for a four-hour, twelve-course state brunch.
But very soon, that plan would go awry.
The motorcade was about a half mile away from the Reichstag when the First Governor leapt to his feet and commanded the limo driver to stop the car. The man unquestioningly obeyed, screeching the vehicle to a halt so sharp, he was nearly ejected out the front window.
As the security people in the first two vehicles turned around in horror, they saw the First Governor's limo take a
92
very unscheduled right turn off the main street and toward the largely abandoned west side of the city.
When the security chief radioed back to the limo to ask why it had veered off course, the First Governor himself took the call.
"This is where my work will begin," he told the security man calmly. "Perhaps you should all follow and learn something."
By the time the scout cars, the APC, and the ambulance turned off the main street, the First Governor's limo was roaring through the deserted streets.
Its driver following directions personally called out by the top man via the car's radiophone. Two security helicopters had now joined the pursuit, alerted that something might be terribly wrong in the motorcade.
The choppers reached the limo's position roughly the same time the ground units did. They found the car had pulled over a dirty smoking truck, the First Governor apparently intent on questioning the driver.
Upon arriving, the security forces bounded from their vehicles and set up a hasty protective ring around their charge. They were horrified to see that the truck the First Governor had stopped was actually a morgue wagon, carrying the nightly fatalities from Dragon's Mouth prison to the mass grave on the other side of town. Even more amazing, the First Governor himself was out of his protective limo and was engaged in an animated conversation with the lowly vulture driving the sputtering hearse.
"How many of them are dead?" the First Governor asked the driver.
"All of them, I think," the totally stupefied man replied.
"Lay them out," the First Governor ordered the man. "Lay them right out on this street for all to see."
The confused, yet savvy, security men didn't have to be told to help. They practically knocked aside the driver and his goon assistant in their rush to take the two dozen bodies off the truck. Each corpse was wrapped in a dirty white sheet and sealed inside a reusable fiberboard box. These coffins had been recycled so often, however, that their lids barely stayed on.
Once the dead were arrayed in a long straight line down the middle of the road, the First Governor addressed the fifty or so people, security men and NS
street troops from the parade route, in a loud, ringing voice.
"We are water," he declared definitively. "We come from the water, which in turn, comes from the stars. Just as water gives us life at birth, it can too give us life after death."
The security troops tried to remain looking grim, but it was hard to do when the First Governor's actions seemed so baffling. The six doctors who'd followed the scene in the rolling operating room had drawn out their own diagnosis of the First Governor's
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