David L. Robbins - Endworld 16 - Miami Run

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Miami Run

#16 in the Endworld series

David Robbins

Dedicated to…

Judy & Joshua & Shane. To Bobbi at City News,

for kindness above and beyond the call of duty.

To the legacy of Vincent Van Gogh, Colonel P.H. Fawcett,

and Korak the Killer.

We both found ours, eventually.

A LEISURE BOOK July 1989 Published by

Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc. 276 Fifth Avenue New York, NY

transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,

including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and

retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except

where permitted by law.

The name "Leisure Books" and the stylized "LB" with design are

trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

Printed in the United States of America.

Prologue

The night was perfect for a sacrifice.

A brilliant full moon illuminated the Everglades as the party of 13 robed

figures and the woman in the blue dress threaded a path toward the grove

on the island 50 yards ahead. A cool, moist breeze stirred the red robes of

the 13 and caused the woman to shiver. Her fearful green eyes locked on

the island and she stumbled.

The scarlet-robed figure to her rear stepped in close and gripped her

left arm to prevent her from falling.

She regained her balance, but she recoiled defiantly at his touch,

jerking her arms from his grasp. Her wrists were already hurting from the

tight coils of rope binding them behind her back. "Don't touch me!" she

snapped.

"We wouldn't want you to fall," the figure responded, his features

enshrouded in the hood of his robe.

"I didn't know you cared!" she stated sarcastically.

"We care, Carmen," the figure said. "We care about keeping you clean

for the Masters."

"Stuff the Masters!"

The red-robed figure sighed. "Such a childish attitude will only make it

worse."

"What could be worse than dying?" Carmen retorted.

"You have no one to blame but yourself," the figure noted. "You

deliberately violated the Precepts of Dealership. The consequences are

inevitable."

Carmen glanced at the grove of trees and began chewing nervously on

her lower lip as they moved nearer.

"You always were too smart for your own good," the figure commented.

"You thought you were better than everybody else."

"I was," Carmen replied. "I was the best damn Dealer in the Dragons,

and you know it!"

"Your distribution network was superbly organized," the figure

conceded. "And your enforcement procedures were carried out to the

letter. You had everything worth living for. Wealth. Power. Prestige. And

you blew it."

"I was framed!" Carmen declared.

"You were stupid," the figure responded. "You weren't satisfied. How

did you expect to get away with cutting your own deal? Did you really

think the Masters wouldn't learn about your deception? The Masters know

everything."

Carmen snorted. "They don't know crap!"

"They know you were cheating them," the figure said. "They know you

were diluting the Powder of Life, then selling the watered-down bags at

full market value. You were skimming some of the Powder to sell on the

side and make yourself richer." He paused. "You were greedy."

"Lies! It's all a bunch of lies!" Carmen insisted.

"Please," the man said. "Don't insult my intelligence. Your hearing was

fair and square. The evidence against you was overwhelming."

"What evidence?" Carmen retorted. "You took the word of a low-life

junkie over mine!"

"Four complaints were lodged against you," the figure mentioned.

"Three were from middle-echelon distributors. Only one was from a street

junkie."

"That damn Harlan!" Carmen muttered.

"Harlan did the right thing. He knew he wasn't getting his money's

worth, and every customer is granted the right to petition the Directors

for a hearing."

"I was framed!" Carmen repeated.

"Suit yourself," the figure said. "But the thirteen of us listened to all of

the evidence and rendered the only possible verdict. The Masters had

advised us to keep—"

"They what?" Carmen interrupted.

"The Masters knew of your deception before Harlan and the others

brought their formal complaints," he detailed. "The Directors were

advised to keep an eye on your activities."

"You were?" Carmen asked in disbelief.

"We were," the robed man confirmed.

"But how?" Carmen queried.

"The Masters have their ways," he replied.

Carmen looked to the right and the left, gauging her chances of

escaping. They were nil. The path to the island was the only solid strip of

ground for hundreds of yards, surrounded by the mucky, peat-filled,

treacherous soil of the Everglades submerged under a foot or more of

water.

"Don't even think about it," the man advised, as if he could read her

mind.

The party reached the eastern edge of the island and started up a slight

incline. Wax myrtles and willows lined the path.

Carmen gazed toward the top of the rise. "I thought we were friends,

Arlo," she commented.

"That's a cheap shot," Arlo said.

"You can get me off the hook with the Masters," Carmen stated. "They'd

listen to you."

"Be serious."

Carmen licked her lips. "I am. Talk to them for me. Intercede in my

behalf."

"I can't, and you know it."

"Please!"

"Don't beg," Arlo said. "It doesn't become you."

They climbed steadily higher.

"Tell them I'll straighten up my act," Carmen said. "Tell them I'll turn

over a new leaf."

"Are you finally admitting your guilt?" Arlo questioned.

Carmen's slim shoulders slumped and she expelled the breath in her

lungs. "All right," she declared. "I admit it. I wasn't framed."

"Surprise, surprise," Arlo said dryly.

"What if I make a full confession?"

"It wouldn't do any good," Arlo told her. "The execution verdict is

final."

"I can always try," Carmen said.

"I expected better from you."

Carmen glanced over her left shoulder. All she could see was the tip of

Arlo's angular chin and his nose protruding from his hood. "What else can

I do? What would you do if you were in my shoes?"

"I would never allow my ego to supplant my better judgment," Arlo

remarked.

"I don't want to die!" Carmen declared bluntly.

"Who does?"

Carmen faced the path, a feeling of utter helplessness welling up within

her. Her resolve faltered and her courage flagged. A sensation of weakness

engulfed her legs and she slowed.

"Don't drag your heels," Arlo admonished.

Carmen looked at him and mustered a feeble smile. "We've been

through a lot together."

Arlo didn't respond.

"We organized our distributorships at the same time," Carmen

mentioned. "We rose through the ranks together. Hell, we were even

appointed as Dealers on the same day."

"It won't work," Arlo said. "You can't expect me to change my mind by

recalling the good old days. Those days are long gone. We've been out of

touch in recent years, and the fault wasn't mine. You set yourself up as a

queen in your district. You lorded it over everybody. Where are all your

other old friends? I'll tell you. They don't want to have anything to do with

you. You alienated everyone with your ambition, Carmen."

"I always treated you with respect."

"Only because you had to," Arlo stated. "As a fellow Dealer, I was your

equal."

"And now you're more than my equal," Carmen said bitterly. "You were

selected to become a Director. I was overlooked."

"You would have been selected as a Director someday," Arlo observed.

"Someday! When?" Carmen demanded. "I was tired of waiting! You

became a Director over four years ago. Why wasn't I given a Directorship?

My qualifications were as good as yours."

"The Masters didn't think so."

"The Masters have had it in for me since the beginning," Carmen

maintained.

"Have you been snorting your own sneeze?" Arlo inquired.

"Up yours!"

They reached the rim, the 13 forms in red fanning out. Arlo took

Carmen by the right shoulder and led her toward the middle of the large

clearing crowning the island.

Carmen gasped. "Please! No!"

"Be brave," he advised.

The clearing was man-made, 20 yards in diameter, and bathed in the

additional glow of a half-dozen braziers positioned at regular intervals

around the edge. Flickering embers drifted skyward from the metal-

receptacles. Flat, knee-high granite pedestals encircled a low marble slab

situated in the center.

Carmen tensed and halted.

"There's no resisting," Arlo stated, pulling her toward the marble slab.

"This can't be happening to me!" Carmen mumbled in a daze.

A pair of red-robed forms walked over to assist Arlo, one taking

Carmen's left arm, the other her right, and as Arlo stepped aside they

dragged her to the slab.

"Please!" she whined. "I'm begging you!"

"Save you breath," Arlo said, following them. "You'll need it."

Each of the figures in red was stepping onto one of the kneehigh,

square granite pedestals. The pair holding Carmen stood her upright next

to the slab, then turned and dutifully climbed onto their pedestals. Every

pedestal was spaced a precise distance of seven feet from the marble. Only

one was left unoccupied, the pedestal to Arlo's rear. He stood to the right

of Carmen, his hood facing the slab.

Carmen began to tremble. "Please, Arlo!"

"Stop it!" he barked. "You've sealed your fate! Now have the decency to

meet it with dignity!"

"I could make a deal," Carmen said hopefully.

"You have nothing to deal with," Arlo assured her.

The wind was picking up and shaking the leaves on the willows and the

other trees.

Carmen stared to the north. "How many do you think will come?" she

asked with a tremor in her voice.

"I don't know," Arlo said.

"I hope Radnor isn't one of them," she commented. "He's the worst of

them."

"You cannot judge the Masters by our standards," Arlo stated. "They

are as different from us as night and day."

"Or mutants from humans," Carmen noted.

"Mutants will be with us forever," Arlo opined. "World War Three saw

to that."

"Maybe so," Carmen said. "But how many humans serve mutant

Masters? How many kiss mutant ass for a living?"

"You're being petty," Arlo remarked stiffly. "You were willing to serve

the Masters while it suited your purposes." He paused, his hood swiveling

toward her. "I once thought you had a good head on your shoulders, but I

see now that you can't accept reality. You can't accept the world as it

really is. You still mistakenly believe humans are the dominant species."

"We are," Carmen said.

"Oh? Is that why you served the Masters for eleven years?"

"I wanted power," Carmen admitted. "And the Masters reward those

who serve them efficiently with ever-increasing power."

"You attained a position of power," Arlo said, "but you abused your

trust. You failed to place your position in its proper perspective. You were

a servant, Carmen. A Dealer, true, but still a servant. And that's as it

should be. Eventually, all humankind will serve mutant rulers."

"You're crazy," Carmen mentioned.

"Am I?" Arlo rejoined. "Take a good look at our world. World War

Three unleashed incalculable amounts of radiation on the environment.

The entire biological chain was affected. And radiation, old friend,

inevitably causes mutations in living things. Scientists knew this. They

experimented with deliberately producing mutant strains in their

laboratories, both by genetic engineering and through controlled radiation

exposure. One of the first mutants they created was a hairless cat—"

"A hairless cat?"

"That's right. It cooed like a pigeon, wagged its tail just like a dog, and

ate like a horse. Even its body temperature was higher than a normal

feline. The scientists went on from there, of course, to develop many other

mutations. And again, this was before the war." Arlo stared at the moon.

"World War Three transformed the planet into a mutant breeding ground.

Whereas prior to the war a mutation might occur naturally in a species

every one hundred thousand generations or so, the radiation unleashed by

the nuclear weapons caused mutations in every species immediately after

the war. Think of it! Every species was drastically affected simultaneously!

And the mutations have been appearing ever since."

"One day the humans will wipe the mutants out," Carmen said.

"Never happen," Arlo said, disagreeing. "There are too many mutants

now. Both the wild ones—the two-headed bears and the six-legged

alligators and the like— and the mutants stemming from human ancestry

will be with us always."

"Were the Masters human once?"

"No," Arlo replied. "But ninety-four years ago the first Master was born

to human parents. The parents must have consumed tainted radioactive

substances, and the result was the formation of an embryo unlike any

other ever known." He chuckled.

"You sound like you're happy about it."

"I owe everything I am to the Masters," Arlo said. "The birth of the first

one was a monumental occasion."

Carmen scrutinized the trees lining the north side of the clearing and

shuddered. "Where did the other six come from?"

"The first Master's human parents gave birth to a daughter a year

later," Arlo detailed.

"Jarita?"

Arlo nodded. "Jarita. She and Orm mated."

"Orm was the firstborn?"

"Yes."

"Somehow I received the impression Radnor was the oldest," Carmen

commented. She was feeling grateful for the conversation. Anything was

better than contemplating her inpending fate.

"Radnor is the oldest son," Arlo explained. "Then came Dimitri,

Sapphira, Quartus, and Marva."

"I never knew," Carmen said. "It's impossible to guess their age by their

appearance." She glanced at Arlo. "You seem to know everything about

them."

"Orm trusts me," Arlo stated proudly. "Physically, they're different from

us. But they have the same emotional needs. They can be our friends."

Carmen snorted. "Now who's not facing reality?"

"You simply don't understand them," Arlo said. "You never did. Look at

what they've accomplished. A handful of mutants have subjugated the

southern third of what was once the state of Florida. Seven mutants rule a

hundred thousand humans! Amazing!"

"Why are there only seven? Why didn't they breed more?"

"They tried," Arlo answered. "But that's the trouble with mutations,

especially those created by excessive radiation. The mutants have

difficulty procreating. Most of their offspring are stillborn. Even when they

do give birth, the infants might be deformed or mutated more than the

parents. Orm and Jarita were able to have five children. That was all. And

Radnor and the others have been unable to continue the line. Orm once

considered the idea of mating with humans, but they decided against it."

"Thank God," Carmen remarked.

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MiamiRun#16intheEndworldseriesDavidRobbinsDedicatedto…Judy&Joshua&Shane.ToBobbiatCityNews,forkindnessaboveandbeyondthecallofduty. TothelegacyofVincentVanGogh,ColonelP.H.Fawcett,andKoraktheKiller. Webothfoundours,eventually.ALEISUREBOOKJuly1989PublishedbyDorchesterPublishingCo.,Inc.276FifthAvenu...

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