(Flipside 02) The Savageside [A]

by Jake Bible

  “The whys and hows are still murky, but I can explain,” Mike said. “Have you ever seen a crack in a windshield, commander?”

  “Ask a moronic question like that again and we’ll be discussing a different crack altogether,” Bloom said.

  Mike blinked then looked to Tressa. “Is he talking about my skull?”

  “He might be,” Tressa replied.

  “Oh.” Mike gulped. “Okay. This is not a great analogy, but it’ll do.”

  Mike pointed at the spirals.

  “These are the spider web cracks of the original time bubbles,” Mike said. “They probably existed all along, but we could not detect them or they didn’t exist within our reality or—”

  “Michael…” Thompson warned.

  “Right, dude. Sorry.” Mike took a deep breath. “When Lakshmi and Brain collapsed the main time bubbles, they failed to collapse the spider web cracks that were spreading off from those bubbles. Even with Brain’s quantum matrix, he did not predict that these other bubbles would manifest themselves. Understandable since there is no precedent for any of this.”

  Mike grabbed the holo and grinned.

  “Watch.”

  He spread the holo even wider then typed at his keyboard. The image became massive, filling most of the air in the command hut. All other techs, who had surreptitiously been watching out of the corners of their eyes, stopped working and stared.

  “This is the entire globe,” Mike said. “With the main bubbles collapsed everywhere, the cracks have spread exponentially. Then the cracks hit other cracks and created new cracks. New cracks that didn’t originate with a main time bubble. The new cracks have created new cracks and so on and so on.”

  Mike turned away from the holo and smiled as if he’d cured cancer. No one smiled back. His shoulders slumped.

  “You’re not getting it,” he mumbled. “Shit. Alright. Uh…”

  He picked up a mug of congealed mud from his console.

  “I wouldn’t drink that,” Tressa warned.

  “Not going to, dude,” Mike said. “This mug of mud is a time bubble. The floor is the planet.”

  He dropped the mug on the floor and it shattered. He carefully bent over and picked up every shard of the mug until only the mud was left on the floor, spreading in a slow, brown ooze. Mike held the shards of mug in his hand to show everyone.

  “This was a time bubble,” he said then tossed the shards into a small trash can to the side of his console. “And we got rid of it.” He pointed down at the mud. “But we can’t get rid of time. We can’t get rid of space.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Tressa and Thompson said at the same time.

  “Exactly,” Mike said.

  “Hold on,” Bloom said and knelt to study the mud. “If this is time and the floor is the planet then…” Bloom asked as he stood and pointed at the spirals of time bubbles in the holo. “Then these are…?”

  “Aren’t, you mean,” Tressa said before Mike could answer. “They aren’t bubbles at all, they’re—”

  “Windows,” Mike interrupted. “We set the mud free. This planet is now the time bubble and those little bubbles aren’t really bubbles at all. They’re windows out of our bubble and into the infinite times that exist.”

  “All we have to do is find the right time in one of these and we can go home,” Tressa said, pointing at the holo.

  “I like the sound of that,” Bloom said.

  “We all do,” Thompson said. “Except I’ve done some calculations. They’re rough, but if Michael is correct, we are looking at close to a million different…windows. Spread out everywhere, everywhen, appearing and disappearing constantly. With our limited resources, and the lack of reliable technology, even after ten generations of searching, we will not be able to inspect every one of these for our way home. If our little band survives long enough to have ten generations.”

  “I do not like the sound of that,” Bloom stated. “Mr. DiCenzo, you came in here excited. Now all I see is disappointment before me.”

  “What? No, dude, I’m still excited,” Mike said. “Because Mr. Thompson here already gave me the answer a few minutes ago when we were talking.”

  “Michael,” Thompson snarled.

  “We create a new Brain,” Mike said. “We should have been working on this from the start, and I blame myself for not thinking of it, but we create a new Brain and let the AI find our way home. It thinks in quantum patterns and mechanics. Something like this is basically a crossword puzzle to an intelligence of that design.”

  Tress turned and glared daggers at her father; Thompson stared back with a blank expression. Mike closed his mouth and glanced back and forth between the two.

  “Oops,” Mike said. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything about creating a new Brain.”

  Tressa raised an eyebrow at that statement.

  “And now I’ve made it worse,” Mike said and sat down in his chair, deflated.

  “No, Mr. DiCenzo, you have not made it worse,” Bloom said. “You have made our chances much better.” He faced the Thompsons. “Whatever family issue this is, stow it. Shove it deep inside and deal with it after we are back home. For now, you three are working on creating this new Brain. And you are working on nothing else until it is completed.”

  Tressa turned her head, but her body remained facing her father.

  “Commander, we co-lead this base,” Tressa said. “I have responsibilities that—”

  “And who do you trust to handle those responsibilities?” Bloom asked. “Which person on this base can take over civilian administration?”

  “Commander, I am going to object to—”

  “Which person, Ms. Thompson?” Bloom said. “If you need time to think. then you can take—”

  “Liv,” Tressa said.

  “The school teacher?” Bloom asked, surprised.

  “Her wife, Astrid, can handle the school,” Tressa said. “But other than Mike, I don’t trust anyone else to take over for me.”

  “Fine,” Bloom said. “Go speak with her. Make sure she is up to the task then come see me directly after. We’ll bring her up to speed on how you administrate and then she will take over so you can work on this project with Mr. DiCenzo and your father.”

  “Do I get a say in this?” Thompson asked.

  “No,” Bloom and Tressa said.

  “Didn’t think so,” Thompson replied. He grabbed a chair and rolled it next to Mike then sat down. “We’ll get started right away.”

  He faced Mike and glared.

  “Good,” Bloom said. “I want daily reports and hopefully they will show nothing but progress.”

  Bloom nodded and left.

  “Better go talk to Olivia,” Thompson said to Tressa.

  “Want me to come with?” Mike asked and nodded at the holo. “I can explain—”

  “No. I have this, Mike,” Tressa said then pointed a finger at her father. “You and I are going to talk later.”

  “I expect we will,” Thompson said.

  Tressa walked out of the hut, leaving Thompson and Mike to stare at each other.

  “I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?” Mike said.

  “The deepest, Michael. The deepest…”

  Nine

  “Push, goddamnit!” Cash bellowed. “We can do this!”

  The speed roller lurched upward, but only shifted half a meter before falling back down into the mud. Cash, Raff, Barbara, and Dr. Xipan leapt out of the way and avoided getting their legs taken off below the knees.

  “Dammit, Haskins! Are you even using the winch?” Cash shouted.

  He stomped around the toppled speed roller and glared at the one-armed man that was busy glaring at a thick, steel cable that lay impotent on the muddy ground.

  “Winch shorted out,” Haskins said, kicking the limp cable. He held up his one hand and showed Cash the shredded glove and bloody gash inside the glove. “But, hey, I thrashed my only hand. Yay…”

  “Shit. Sorry,” Cash said. “Get that bandaged
up.”

  “Thanks, chief,” Haskins said and walked away, muttering curses under his breath.

  Cash picked up the cable and followed it hand over hand to where it was connected to the side of the Russian speed roller. That vehicle had remained upright during the storm, unlike the Flipside vehicle. The cable was hooked into the armor and didn’t look like it’d come loose even if another storm hit.

  Cash followed the cable back to the portable winch that was normally bolted to the front of the Flipside speed roller, but had been removed and bolted to the side, which was now the top, of the vehicle. Climbing up onto the side (top), Cash crouched over the winch, waving a hand at the wisps of smoke that trailed up into the mid-morning air.

  Maybe it was mid-morning. Cash wasn’t sure. They’d been trapped in the speed roller for hours, he knew that. The world went dark, the storm raged, the speed roller shook and shook, the anchors snapped, the roller shook harder, slid sideways for several meters, then fell over into the mud pit that was forming around them. The world remained dark even after the storm had passed. Then light leaked through into the hold and Cash decide it was worth a risk to assess the damage.

  He’d jumped into knee-deep mud as soon as he hopped out of the speed roller.

  Now, Raff, Barbara, and Dr. Xipan were standing in that knee-high mud, staring up at Cash, having moved back enough to see him and the winch.

  “Trash?” Raff asked.

  “Trash,” Cash replied. “Not enough leverage in this mud. Burned out the motor trying to fight physics.”

  “I explained to you that it wouldn’t work,” Dr. Xipan said and held up her hands as angry glares were thrown her way.

  “Yeah, you explained it. Several times,” Raff said. “But explanation isn’t action, lady, and we’re all about action.”

  “How’d that action work out for you?” Dr. Xipan asked.

  “Better than doing nothing,” Raff snapped.

  “Stop,” Barbara said. “Both of you. We had to try, at least. Now we know it won’t work.”

  “And we’re down one winch because of it,” Cash said. He turned to face the Russian speed roller. “And their winch is as dead as their motor.”

  He froze. A thought. He turned back around. “Raff?”

  “Yeah, what?” Raff replied, still glaring at Dr. Xipan who was busy ignoring him.

  “The Russian speed roller,” Cash said. “Who designed it?”

  “Probably Topside Industries,” Raff said. “They designed everything that works Flipside.”

  “Works…” Dr. Xipan snorted.

  “Lady, I’ll drown you in this fucking mud if you say one more—” Raff snarled.

  “Stop!” Barbara said and punched Raff in the shoulder then punched Dr. Xipan in her shoulder.

  “How dare you!” Dr. Xipan yelled. The look on Barbara’s face cut off any other protestations.

  “Pytor!” Cash shouted.

  The rear hatch of the Russian speed roller opened and Pytor carefully climbed out. He only sunk to mid-calf in the mud.

  “Yes?” Pytor asked.

  “How’s Yvgeny?” Cash asked.

  “He has not awakened. However, his breathing is steady,” Pytor replied. “But that is not why you called me.”

  “No, it’s not,” Cash said. “Your roller. It looks like a Topside Industries model, but is it? Did the Russians buy their vehicles from TI or did they copy the design?”

  “Oh, that’s a good question,” Raff said.

  “I cannot comment on the copying of any design, but I do know that all vehicles and equipment are manufactured in Russia,” Pytor said. “It is a point of pride for our people that we are not reliant on Topside Industries like the rest of the world.”

  “They copied the design,” Cash said down to Raff. “Go check.”

  “On it,” Raff said and slogged his way around the Flipside roller and over to the Russian roller.

  Cash watched the man move past Pytor and climb inside the hold. Pytor gave Cash a curious look, but Cash held up a hand, telling him to hold on. After a few minutes, Raff climbed back out and nodded.

  “Same design right down to the bolts,” Raff said. “It may have been made in Russia, but this is a TI vehicle from top to bottom.”

  “Good,” Cash said.

  “Why is that good?” Pytor asked.

  “Because it’s upright,” Cash said. “Which is what we need.”

  “But it doesn’t run!” Dr. Xipan yelled up at him. “How can upright help if it doesn’t run?”

  “We’re going to make it run,” Cash said. “We’ll take parts from our roller and switch them out for the fried parts in the Russian roller.”

  “It’d be safer if we swap motors,” Raff said. “Our motor is shielded. Theirs isn’t. If all we do is switch out parts, then their motor is going to break down again at some point.”

  “Yeah, but how are we going to get our motor into their vehicle?” Cash asked. “You have a hoist on ya, Raff?”

  “Not on me, but we can figure something out,” Raff said, standing between the two vehicles, turning back and forth as he studied them.

  Cash joined Raff. They came to the conclusion at the same time.

  “The axles?” Cash asked.

  “The axles,” Raff replied. “They’re right there. Don’t need to lift the roller to get to them. It’ll be tricky, but we can get them off and use the axles and wheels to roll our motor over to their roller.”

  “Getting it off the ground and inside their roller is the tricky part,” Cash said.

  “One step at a time,” Raff said.

  “Tre?” Barbara said, standing at the rear of the overturned Flipside roller.

  Cash looked at her then saw she was staring out into the landscape. He followed her gaze and growled.

  “Sure. Why not?” Cash said. “Haskins!”

  “Busy!” Haskins shouted from inside the Flipside roller’s hold.

  “We got teeth!” Cash yelled.

  “On my way!” Haskins shouted.

  He appeared from the sideways hatch after a couple seconds, his hand bandaged and his rifle gripped tight. He winced as he adjusted his grip, but shook his head as Cash raised an eyebrow.

  “I can shoot,” Haskins said then looked from his hand with the rifle in it to the top of the Russian roller. “Could use a boost up there, though.”

  Cash and Raff helped him up on top of the Russian roller then joined him, each with their rifles to their shoulders and ready.

  “Wingers!” Barbara shouted.

  “Get inside the roller,” Cash ordered.

  “Which one?” Barbara asked.

  “Ours,” Cash said. “More weapons in there. Prep the extra rifles and grab up as many magazines as we have that are already loaded.”

  “On it,” Barbara said and disappeared inside the roller’s hold.

  “Eight teeth,” Raff said. “The big ones. The really, really big ones.”

  “I can be of help,” Pytor called up to them.

  “Stay inside the roller and watch over your friend,” Cash said. “Is the hatch clear below?”

  “Yes,” Pytor said. “There is nothing in the way if you need to climb down inside.”

  “Good. Keep it that way,” Cash said.

  “They’re fighting each other,” Raff said, his eye to his scope.

  Cash frowned. “What?”

  “Have a fucking look, buddy,” Raff said.

  Cash did look. There were eight huge carnivores moving toward the rollers, but they were a mass of chaos, not a coordinated pack like Cash was used to seeing with tyrannosaurs and the other teeth packs he’d encountered Flipside. These teeth were snapping at each other’s throats and legs and tails. They were spinning about, each looking for an in to kill the others.

  They were fighting, not working together.

  And the wingers circled above, waiting.

  Cash pulled his rifle from his shoulder and patted Haskins on the back. “Looks like they are oc
cupied, but keep an eye on them. If one wins and heads this way, give a shout. We’re going to get to work taking the axles off our roller.”

  “Copy that,” Haskins said and settled in to get comfortable, his eye never leaving his scope.

  Cash and Raff jumped down and banged on the Russian roller’s rear hatch.

  “I did not hear gunfire,” Pytor said when he opened the hatch.

  “Teeth are fighting amongst themselves,” Cash said. “Wingers are waiting for corpses to fall so they can snatch up some meat. We have a window to work in. Gonna need your help.”

  “I am still quite weak,” Pytor said.

  “I know,” Cash said. “I need you to get to your roller’s motor. Start taking it apart, piece by piece.”

  “What do you want me to do with the pieces?” Pytor asked.

  “Toss ‘em,” Raff said. “We just need the motor compartment empty by the time we’re ready to put our motor in its place.”

  “Oh. Yes. I can do that,” Pytor said. “Thank you.”

  “Uh…you’re welcome,” Raff said.

  He and Cash hurried back to their roller and grabbed tools out of the hold.

  “What about the teeth?” Barbara asked, her arms loaded with rifles and hands gripping bags of magazines.

  “Oh, sorry,” Cash said, unbolting a tool kit from the side, which was the ceiling, of the roller. “Teeth are fighting teeth. Haskins is keeping an eye on them.”

  “And the wingers?” Barbara asked.

  “Waiting to eat dead teeth,” Raff said as he took the tool kit from Cash.

  “And you decided not to tell me until now because?” Barbara asked.

  “Forgot,” Cash said, fetching a second tool kit. “Sorry. Gonna need your help with the axles, though. Cool?”

  Barbara almost threw the rifles on the floor (side) of the roller, but paused then carefully set them down as Cash’s eyes widened.

  “Sure, Tre,” Barbara said. “I can help with the axles.”

  “Great. Thanks,” Cash said sheepishly. “Sorry I forgot to tell you right away.”

  “Mmm hmmm,” Barbara said, pushing past him and out of the roller.

  “Oh, man, you are in trouble,” Raff said.

  “Fuck off, Raff,” Cash said.