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Betty-John continued. "Lieutenant James Edward McCarthy, acting commander for the Santa Cruz Peninsula District, will you accept custody of the accused?"

I turned to Betty-John. "I will."

"Thank you. Court is hereby adjourned."

I walked back over to stand before Delandro.

"Like a clock, James. Like a clock," he said. "The machinery works. Tick tock. Tick tock."

I didn't reply to that. I was considering my next words. There was something I wanted to know. I turned back to the prisoners. Very softly, I asked, "Where's Loolie? She wasn't at the camp." No answer.

I raised my eyes to see Jason studying me.

I let my glance slide sideways, to Jessie. She looked bitter and angry-and triumphant.

"Where is she?" I asked.

Jessie snorted. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

'"She had a Revelation."

"And-?"

"And she gave herself to Orrie."

"She what?!!"

Jessie smiled. "I told you that you wouldn't understand."

"You're wrong," I said. "I understand all too well. Revelationists eat their young." I turned away from them quickly.

I walked over to Big Ivy, acting commander of the guards. "Take them outside," I said.

The prisoners were taken in a single file line out the side door and onto the parking lot. A wide area had been roped off on the lawn. "Line them up there," I pointed.

The people of Family were coming out of the front doors of the auditorium now, coming around to the side to join us. The children were being herded away. Only the adults and teenagers were lining up to watch.

The sun was high overhead. The day was warm and clear. It was a beautiful day.

I waited until the prisoners were down on their knees again. I picked up a hand mike, tested it by tapping on it, and spoke. "Twenty-eight months ago, Congress passed the Emergency Euthanasia Bill. The bill defines specific circumstances under which the termination of human lives that have been damaged beyond rehabilitation may be authorized."

I nodded to Big Ivy. "Will you please read the text of the relevant sections?" I handed her the microphone.

She took it. She unfolded a piece of paper from her shirt pocket and began to read the text of the law. While she did, I looked at the faces of our survivors.

They were grim.

This was ugly, but necessary.

Big Ivy finished and handed me back the microphone. "By the authority vested in me by the Congress of the United States of America and the Commander in Chief of the United States Armed Forces, I hereby assume the responsibility for the decision of termination." I turned to Big Ivy. "Do you have the papers?"

She motioned to one of the younger girls, who came up with a clipboard. I signed all seven documents.

"Jim!" I looked up. It was Marcie. I walked over to her. "Yes?"

"I'm pregnant. You can check with your own doctor. She knows. She examined me, last night."

"So?"

"The baby-it deserves a chance, doesn't it?"

"Are you asking to have your case reconsidered?"

She glanced once at Jason. His face was still blank. She looked back to me. "Yes, I am," she said. "It's your baby."

I looked at her eyes. She was terrified. "I'm sorry, Marcie. It's too late. You already chose. I don't have the authority to reopen your trial. All I have is the authority to determine whether or not you're terminally damaged. You had your chance inside."

"But I didn't know you were planning this-"

"Yes, you did. You knew the choice. We made it clear."

"It's your baby!" she repeated.

"No," I said. "It isn't. Whatever it is, it's a monster. And you're using it to manipulate me. It won't work."

"Jim, please-"

I leaned in close. "Marcie," I said softly. "Shut up. That's your survival programming talking. I'm not going to listen to it, because I know that's not who you really are."

"You son of a bitch," she said

"I had a good teacher."

I walked away from her and thumbed the mike to life. "I want to stress something here. When an animal is sick, you put it out of its pain. A human being deserves the same courtesy. What we are up to here is not vengeance. Vengeance is a crime against ourselves. What we are up to here is a cleansing. It will look brutal. Think of it as the removal of cancer. Those of you who feel you may not be able to cope with this are requested to leave. Those of you who are here for vengeance are requested to leave. Those of you who are here to mourn the loss of another bit of humanity are welcome to remain and share the grief." I turned to the seven surviving members of Jason Delandro's Revelationist Tribe. I thought for a long moment. No. There was nothing else I wanted to say to them. It had all already been said.

Jason looked at me. "Do we get any last words?"

"This isn't an execution. It's a termination. No purpose will be served. But if you want to babble, no one will stop you."

He shut up.

I unholstered my pistol. I walked around behind the line.

I stepped up to the first one. I didn't know who this man was. He had red hair. I thought about Holly.

Bang.

I took a step sideways. The woman's hair was neatly combed and pulled back in a bun. I thought about Alec.

Bang.

Another step sideways. George. Frankenstein's monster. I felt sad for him. The monster had always been a figure of pity. Too bad.

Bang.

A step sideways. A nervous looking boy in thick glasses. He'd stood next to me the first night in the Revelationist camp. He'd welcomed me to their tribe. I thought about Tommy.

Bang.

A step sideways. Marcie. "Jim, please-" she whimpered. I leaned forward and replaced her hands on top of her head.

"You surprise me." I said. "I had no idea you had so little faith." I lowered my voice to a whisper, so only she and I could hear what I said next. "My babies are dead. Why the hell should I give a fuck about yours?"

Bang.

A step sideways. Jessie. A woman who gave her baby to a worm. There was no human being here.

Bang.

I stopped to reload. I slid a fresh magazine into the butt of the gun.

I stepped around to face Delandro from the front. I pointed the gun at his face.

"I feel sorry for you, James. You're going to live to see your mistakes. I forgive you."

"To hell with you." I closed my eyes and squeezed the trigger.

Have you ever met Jamie McBeezis?
He does any damn thing that he pleases.
Says Jamie, undaunted,
"if you've got it, then flaunt it!"
But he's referring to social diseases.

50

Orrie

"Jesus had it coming. The self-righteous always get nailed."

-SOLOMON SHORT

There was one last thing to do.

It was a three-hour drive. Not as long as I'd thought.

The old dude ranch was a burned out ruin. Some of the trees and shrubs in the area had also burned, but the fire hadn't spread.

I pulled into the big dirt clearing that served as a parking lot and killed the engine.

I switched the PA system on.

"Prrrt?" I said into the microphone. "Prrt?" The day was silent.

I opened the door of the van and climbed down out of it. I went mound to the back and got my torch. I came back toward the front of the vehicle.

Orrie was just coming up past the ruins of the barn. I knew it.

He'd come back here because he knew this place.

He was looking for his babies. He was looking for his family, his tribe.

"Orrie!" I shouted. "It's Jim! Come here!" I had to get him in range.

He stopped and looked at me. He cocked his eyes suspiciously. They swiveled independently of each other. They were large and black.