Brodie sat down. He felt happy, suddenly. He felt young. He felt like the world was new.
Taylor said, “Tom is telling me how Roger was getting into the history of the area. Studying the Mojave tribe.”
“I’m glad he had so much free time,” said Brodie.
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I’ve seen your best, and it ain’t enough.” She smiled to let him know she was joking. She didn’t normally do that.
Greer was on his back, staring up at the stars, talking in a soft, calm voice. “The Mojave lived along the Colorado River. Their lives were centered on it. Transportation, irrigation, fishing, hunting. It was all about the river. They believed that at the dawn of time one of the gods drove a willow branch into the earth.” He pointed up and Brodie looked. A cluster of wavy branches spread against the sky, lined with blooming flowers that looked black against the starlight. “The branch brought forth the water. It sprang up and created the river. The river created life.”
The river created life.
Sergeant Brodie was by the Euphrates outside Baghdad. The riverbanks were lined with trash and bloated corpses.
Can you believe it? That civilization started in this shithole?
His platoon leader had said that. A first lieutenant. Went to an Ivy League school. Died the next week.
He looked at the sky. All hint of sunlight was gone in the west, and more stars revealed themselves. The temperature was growing cool. Brodie asked, “Tom, why did Roger bring you here?”
“To help me.”
“He didn’t even know you.”
Greer was silent for a minute. Then he said, “He felt responsible for the tin men. He regretted helping make them.”
Brodie looked over at the young private, lying on his back in therocky sand. His limbs were splayed out, like a child making a snow angel.
Greer continued, “He said that he saw me going the way of Justin Beal.” The man shuddered as he stared up at the stars. “He told me I did not have to die. And I believed him. And he was right.”
Instead, Roger Ames had to die. And maybe all that was left of his knowledge was in the mind of this twenty-year-old Army private.
“What else did he tell you?”
“About Bucky, not much. But he knew there was more going on with it than he’d realized. And he was worried that his research and my platoon’s training at Camp Hayden were not what they seemed. That there was a plan beneath the plan. That’s how he put it.”
“What plan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he sense his life was in danger?”
“Not that I could tell. It seemed he was more worried about us Rangers. That the tin men… or at least,oneof the tin men, would do something it wasn’t supposed to.”
Brodie asked, “Did you help him procure weapons from the armory?”
“Yeah,” said Greer. “That wasn’t too hard. All I had to do was volunteer to run inventory, take a little at a time. He told me he was hiding it all, in case a time came he had to act fast. Made me think of my crazy uncle who’s got an arsenal in vacuum-sealed PVC pipes buried all around his farm.”
Taylor asked, “What was Ames doing in the Vault?”
“Talking to it,” said Greer. “He said it was like talking to a wall, at first. And then he came to realize… it was like talking to somethingpretendingto be a wall. Roger said that the thing knew a lot. It knew our history. Our wars, our presidents. World history too.”
“Those are just facts,” said Taylor. “That’s not intellect.”
“Yeah,” said Greer. “I don’t know. The major made it sound like itwas more than that, but…” He trailed off. “I couldn’t always follow what he was talking about. I’m sorry. I’m trying to help.”
