The Stolen Future Box Set

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The Stolen Future Box Set Page 5

by Brian K. Lowe


  I went to bed that night worried that I would not sleep, electrified as I was with anticipation and trepidation. I had been a soldier, and a good one, but now I was operating as a spy, and like a spy I could expect no mercy if I were unmasked. But it was not my well-founded fears that interrupted my slumbers.

  It had been a long while since I had spent time with a woman—before I left for France, in fact. Not that the French girls were uninterested; by the standards with which I had grown up they were downright forward. Most of the men in my company had taken advantage of French hospitality while waiting their orders to the front, and I might have as well, given the possibility that I would not return, but a veteran sergeant had made me a gift of a few well-chosen words about the hazards of “dippin’ in the same well” as so many others, and I had abstained.

  But my abstinence had been born out of common sense, not principled morality. That night my chamber door slid quietly open and a figure slipped inside. I was already familiar enough with her thoughts to recognize Hana. She stood at the foot of my bed, her breath audible to my straining ears. Her robe slid to the floor; there was nothing underneath.

  Withal the details are private, I said words that night which I had never spoken before; nor had she, I believe, ever heard them.

  I was doubly reluctant to leave my bed the next morning; not only was I was loathe to leave Hana’s side, but to add insult to injury, I needed to be out of Bantos Han’s house before dawn.

  So with some red hair dye Hori had obtained, and a pair of red coveralls whose origin I did not question, I magically transformed from slave to master. An early morning departure had seemed wisest; although none of the neighbors would dare remark openly upon the sight of a Nuum departing the Hans’ residence at any hour, still the rumors would fly and I was loathe to harm their reputations.

  I regarded myself in the mirror, clad in unconventional scarlet from my head (literally) to my toes.

  “I’m ready,” I said to my reflection.

  I was never more wrong in my life.

  Chapter 6

  The New World

  My adventure began, however, innocuously enough. Following explicit instructions, I took automated transportation into the city center. Its visibility, or lack thereof, did not present a problem because the sun had not come up; the city was lit up just as one would expect any large urban center would be.

  I found myself in the local “business park” where Bantos Han had his office. Once there I was able to loiter with impunity, since no one would dare to question one of the Masters as to his doings. Only about the Nuum themselves did I need to worry, and Bantos Han had assured me that they paid as little attention to each other as any passing pedestrians on the streets of Los Angeles or London.

  “They’ve been here for three hundred years, and they’re spread all over the world,” he had said. “You can’t expect them all to know each other.”

  As I had expected, the pre-dawn streets were quite deserted, populated only by those whose toil required them to be up and about. I mused about the universal nature of their jobs, for though I could not very well ask them what they were doing, the work of the trash collector, the street sweeper, and even the delivery man is the same no matter where he may be found. If they noticed me, I failed to concern them.

  I used the time to myself to conduct some investigations. The architecture and construction of the buildings, for example, were completely foreign to me. Since no one was about to remark upon it, I was able to pay the kind of close attention that would have attracted stares in broad daylight. These office complexes (as I correctly assumed them to be) were tall, perhaps ten stories on the average, but quite narrow to my eye. Their surfaces were slick and cool to the touch. Every building boasted windows by the hundreds; some seemed to be made of nothing else. At first I wondered how glass could hold their weight, but when I touched a ground-floor window I found it was not glass, but rather the same material of the walls, rendered transparent. This discovery awed me considerably, and I am sure had the streets not been deserted my stupefaction would have made me a magnet of unwanted curiosity.

  Just then, the sun, which had been betraying its coming by the graying of the eastern sky, hove into view at the end of the street. For a few moments the entire city was transformed into a fairyland of sparkling diamonds, the sunlight catching glassy corners and cornices that dazzled and delighted.

  My breath caught at the sight of ten thousand points of sunlight catching and refracting off the walls and windows, a galaxy of stars that by some modern magic did not blind, but only enchanted.

  Then, as if by more magic, the street sweepers and the drivers—and the buildings!—faded away to be replaced almost in the same instant by throngs of office workers. Suddenly I was in the middle of a vast open space among crowds of people—and others!

  Although I had realized that there were to be many astonishing, mind-wrenching sights to behold, I was nonetheless unprepared for them. This part of town seemed to court the alien trade more aggressively than that where the Hans had led me before, and glad I was that I was backed up against a solid wall, else I might have run.

  Another moose—or the same—in a brown suit of overlapping leathery plates; a black woman who might have caused no tremor walking down Broadway, save that she was over seven feet tall, with ten-inch fingers, and gaunt almost to the point of transparency; a three-foot high cross between an iguana and a parakeet…

  It was all at once too much. I wrenched myself away from the sight, colliding with oncoming pedestrians. For a moment I was carried along with them on the sidewalk. Suddenly the shoving stopped and an island of calm surrounded me. All the people were edging away from me, trying to escape without attracting my notice, making small motions and noises of excuse. Waves of embarrassment, fear, and longing, the latter tinged with envy, wafted toward me as they moved out of my way, out of the way of their master.

  Their emotions made me sick. I spun again and found myself up against a door. I pushed it open and went inside.

  The lobby I found myself in was high and cool. Lights filled out every shadow, but where they were coming from I couldn’t see. The crowd outside had already moved on, and those coming behind didn’t even know I was here. I took a deep breath, feeling more relaxed in my oasis, even though I knew it was only temporary: I had to go back outside to meet Bantos Han so that he could give me a tour of the city. Moreover, whoever worked in this building would arrive soon, and I would have to leave before I attracted more attention.

  Still, it was another opportunity to learn. Directly ahead of me was a tall interior shaft, constructed of the same shiny material as the walls—although I noticed now that under the indoor light, they did not shine but gleamed quietly, like soft wood.

  To my right as I entered was a tall lighted screen. I couldn’t read the script, but from the order of the lines I guessed it must be a building directory. Each line had a circle next to it, where a summoning bell might go, but when I felt the screen it was flat, without a button or bell of any kind that I could see. Curiously, I touched one of the circles. Immediately a door silently opened in the shaft ahead of me, revealing a small room. I almost laughed—an elevator! It chimed to me softly, but before I could decide to take it up on its invitation I was startled to hear a small noise on the other side of the screen.

  I froze. The noise did not recur, nor did anyone peek around the screen to see who was there. It could be a watchman, stationed in the lobby during the night—but then why didn’t he present himself, asking my business?

  When I was very small, I picked up a sharp stick in a field and used it to poke inside a tree trunk, just because I wanted to know what was inside. I found out very quickly—a beehive—and if not for a handy pond nearby I would have paid dearly for my intrusion. As it was I had to bury myself in the muddy water for a long time before they went away, and when my parents, frantic with worry, found me at last, wet and filthy, my father gave me a treatment that even the bees
would have been proud of.

  That incident taught me about bees, but it did nothing to cure my damnable streak of curiosity. Before my rational mind could overrule the little boy inside, I peeked around the screen.

  There was a desk back there, with a man hunched over it. The elevator was invisible from where he sat, and he must have thought I had boarded it and gone, because he was speaking softly at the desk, as I had seen Bantos Han and his family do at home. Bantos Han had tried to explain a “computer” to me, but I had no idea what he was talking about. It was one of those things that we had decided was best left for later.

  What this man was doing on a computer in a deserted building at sunrise was a mystery to me, but then again it was none of my business, either. I should have left him alone and slipped away, but I couldn’t stop staring. I stared for so long it was inevitable he would notice me, and at last he jerked his head about and looked straight into my face.

  He was one of the Silver Men.

  Thinking me a Nuum who had caught him at his mischief, naturally his first thought was to murder me.

  Chapter 7

  I Give Chase

  The pale red beam flicked out at my head. Having learned from my previous experience with the Silver Men, my head wasn’t there when it arrived. The ray only bored a smoking hole in the wall behind me.

  Instantly, a siren began to wail, activated by the smoke or perhaps the firing of the weapon itself. I crouched alongside the desk waiting for the Silver Man to poke his gun around the corner, but he never did. I stuck my head up in time to see the elevator door close behind him.

  Over the door an indicator read off the floors as the car whizzed by. He stopped at the top floor. I ran into the next car in line. There was no operator and no lever. Jumping up and down in my impatience as the door slid closed I was nearly frightened out of my skin when the elevator said:

  “Please do not rock the car. What floor, please?”

  I said, “Top,” and when the doors opened I found myself in a small penthouse hallway, framed in the elevator like a man in a shooting gallery.

  The corridor was short, with only a door at the other end and one door halfway down its length. There was no knob in evidence on the nearer door, and a small light off to the side only blinked at me when I passed my hand over it. As near as I could tell, it was locked. Unless my quarry had a key, he was somewhere on the other side of the other door, which probably lead out to the roof.

  The siren was still shrieking, quieter on this floor but still much in evidence. I had no time to wonder what it meant, but I was sure it had something to do with me—and that someone was coming to answer it.

  I passed my hand over the light next to the second door, and it obediently slipped aside. The early morning sun struck me full in the face and saved my life—as I involuntarily stepped back a murderous beam missed me by inches.

  The corridor behind me was a trap, with no cover. I ducked and ran forward even as my eyes were watering from the sun and I couldn’t see my attacker. More by instinct than design I found a sheltering vent and huddled behind it, blinking my eyes to clear them.

  Even after I could see again, I stayed motionless and listened. The vent I crouched behind was about five feet tall, with an inclined top that angled downward away from me, and the same smooth finish as the rest of the building. Under my feet, the roof was flat, and years of dust, rain, and birds had worn the surface of even this fantastic material. I had felt the fine grit under my shoes as I ran, and I knew that no one could walk up here without making a noise.

  My nerves tightened until I could hear the wind scraping my clothing against my skin. The unending siren seemed miles away. The breeze played with my hair, waving it before my eyes, and rasped across my ears. I turned my head into the wind and twisted at a sudden noise behind me—but it was only a large black bird, watching me with an unnaturally intelligent stare, as though he wanted a ringside seat to the drama that had unfolded beneath his wings.

  I’ll bet you know where he is, I thought bitterly, but the bird only cawed at me and took wing—eliciting a startled grunt from the other side of the vent.

  He had to know where I was; what he didn’t know was whether or not I was armed. I was the only one who knew the answer to that, but I knew it was the wrong answer. I couldn’t attack him without a weapon; he couldn’t attack me without me hearing him. Sooner or later, though, he would have to risk it, and I was stuck here, unless…

  I scraped up a handful of tiny pebbles from the area around my feet, slipped them into my pocket, and stood up slowly. Peeking over the top of the vent, I saw what I had hoped to see: The angle of the top of the vent had kept it relatively clear of debris. Carefully I lifted myself to the top of the vent. I had to bend my knees to keep my shoes from scraping, and all my weight was supported by my arms for what seemed like several minutes. I breathed only through my nose lest I make a noise.

  Finally I gained the top and gathered my feet underneath me, crouching on the vent. I couldn’t see him; fortunately, the morning sun was still in front of me, or my shadow would have stood out across the roof and I would have been cut down in an instant. I reached into my pocket and flung the pebbles across the roof. I heard the scraping of feet below me, and I jumped.

  I landed behind him, wrapping an arm around his throat before he could react. He grabbed my arm and twisted from the waist, but instead of throwing me off he only slammed me into the side of the vent. With my free hand I clutched for his arm. He was wearing a long, flapping coat which kept getting in the way, but it hindered him as much as me.

  He tangled his leg with mine and I went down hard, but I wouldn’t let go and he fell on top of me. He tried to twist away and I turned his trick on him, tangling his own leg between mine. Growing up, I had often been forced to defend myself from my three older brothers, and those lessons were coming back now.

  I tried to turn us over, but it was no use; he was twisting like a snake and writhing like a maddened tiger, and it was all I could do to hold on. I was bigger and heavier, but we were trapped, neither able to gain the upper hand. Were we both unarmed, I might have overwhelmed him, but the minute I let him go he was going to shoot me. Then he got a hand free and grabbed my ear.

  What he did I don’t know, but I screamed and jerked away. This time he let me go, scrambling to his feet. He raised his weapon and fired—directly over my head. For a moment I thought he was stunned, but then he ducked behind the vent housing which suddenly burst into flame!

  Not knowing what was behind me I rolled away from the flames as fast as I could. When I dared I rolled to my feet and looked up. The siren had been answered. The sky was full of men.

  There were at least a dozen round platforms floating in the air above the street before me. Each one held a Nuum. They buzzed about like bees attacking a bear, gouts of orange light spouting from their cumbersome rifles to split into flame against the roof and walls of the building.

  Though I couldn’t see him, I knew how my foe was responding from the way they would suddenly dart and weave, avoiding a death that I could not distinguish against the pale morning sky. Suddenly a flier failed to move fast enough, and platform and rider plunged earthward in one sodden mass.

  It came to me in a flash that none of the combatants had any time to worry about me. I could gain the elevator in seconds and be on the ground before they knew I was gone. Yet I stood planted in my place. This could be my only chance to talk to one of the Silver Men. Left to his own devices he would be dead within a few minutes, and my opportunity to find out what had happened to me might be gone. On the other hand, if I interfered, I could be dead in a few minutes, and it wouldn’t matter a damn.

  But for now it did. It mattered a whole lot.

  I ran for my former shelter, still bubbling and smoking from that first hit. But now it was out of the line of fire, and unless the Nuum were terrible marksmen, it was as safe as anywhere else. I stood poised for a few seconds, catching my breath, wracking my bra
in for a way to get the Nuum to stop firing long enough to keep from shooting me while I subdued the Silver Man. Again, Fate took my choice away.

  The Silver Man whipped around the corner, running straight for the penthouse. Without a thought, I shot out of concealment after him, doubtless the stupidest stunt of my short and reckless life. But somehow the Nuum held their fire, and with my outstretched hand I clutched at the other’s flapping coat. He pulled up short. I fell into him and he pushed me away. I could hear the low humming of the platforms as they dropped toward us. The Silver Man spun, sprinted for the edge of the building, and leaped into space.

  Surpassing the briefly-held “stupidest stunt” record, I jumped after him.

  Chapter 8

  The People Rise

  The God who protects fools surely protected me. I slammed immediately into the man’s body and held on for dear life as we both plummeted to the ground. How I knew that we were not about to die is a mystery to me to this day.

  He battered me about the head and shoulders while the wind snatched at his frantic shouts and swept them away.

  “Let go, you idiot!” I wouldn’t; why would I? “You’ll get us both killed! You’re fouling the outlet jets!”

  I could feel something encircling his body where I clutched it close to me. I took a chance, releasing my grip ever so slightly so that I was holding his coat. He had only to shuck out of it to be rid of me forever, but now that I had freed him, he was too busy to worry about me.

  He fumbled with something around his waist—I couldn’t see because my eyes were tightly shut, but I could feel his movements.

  “We’re going to hit!” he shouted, but I could feel our descent slowing. I opened my eyes in time to look down and unlock my knees. We hit the ground and rolled: battered but alive. In the impact I tore the Silver Man’s coat clean off his shoulders.

 

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