“Lady Silk. You seem to have grown a beard overnight,” I said over my shoulder, smiling down at my work.
“Mister Bowman, you should know that we women have two faces. The one we show you to gain your interest, and the one you see after we know we’ve got you hooked,” came her laughing reply.
Looking back at her, I watched her remove various items of her disguise, handing some to Mira, who watched in amazement as the Lady emerged from beneath a grimy, stinking herdsman. When she was done, only the Lady stood there, wearing a simple white dress and no shoes, her small feet still filthy, like a child of the streets.
“Better. I do hate that disguise, but it’s useful for day traveling,” she said, smiling at Mira and approaching my collection of solar panels and various tools. She gave a low whistle. “You weren’t lying. This is your field of work?”
“Among others,” I told her, choosing my words carefully. I trusted her, but I didn’t know how much. That would come later. “I’m apparently a monster killer and handy with a shovel too. You might say I was made for this world.”
“He is,” Mira said, winking.
Lady Silk lifted her chin, considering the distant caravans that plowed through the sand in every direction. “I’m glad to hear it. You’ll find that all manner of skills are needed here, especially since you’ve chosen to make Wetterick into an enemy.” When I made to protest, she held up a hand. “I don’t think you should fear him, Jack. He’s a bully and a coward, but the world you create without him will have need of someone in charge.”
“Someone like you?” I asked her, putting down the cloth I used to wipe the panels clean.
“Not like me. And not me. I want no part of commanding this post, Jack, and you know it,” the Lady answered. Now that I could see her in the sun, she was even more stunning than the night before. Even dirtied up, her skin was pale perfection, making her green eyes leap from a face that was sculpted by the hand of an artist. She folded her legs and sat, fully at ease, black hair moving in the wind and watching me as we both did the math of conquest in our head.
I considered her an ally, enemy, and lover while she did the same, both concluding that we needed more information before reaching a decision. We did this in seconds; she, because that was her nature, and I, because my ‘bots let my thoughts move at speeds I’d never know before. I was smart, but my intellect was limited to computers and systems and the Marines. Now my mind showed me angles, and I found that given time to think, I could see around corners and make decisions based on what might happen next.
Like just then.
Ignoring her parry of my question about leading the post, she held out the laptop.
“You’ll need this first?”
“Thank you. We’ve got—” I peered up at the sun, now rising in a punishing arc above the post, “about an hour before we have to get the components out of the heat. I’ll see what I can find on the first drive. We’ll need to mark them so that I can catalog anything we find.”
After a quick scoring with the point of a knife, we had five drives, labeled in order and ready to shuck like oysters. I needed their secrets, and time was of the essence.
“Here we go.” I connected the laptop to my little solar array, watching the power indicator with fevered intent.
Nothing happened.
“Are you fucking—wait.” Rubbing my hand over my face, I took a breath, letting the air calm me. “Mira, check the cable. Always check the cable.”
She pushed the connector with an audible click, and the small green light on the side of the laptop came to life, a winking eye of civilization in a million acres of sand.
“It’s alive,” I said, feeling rather like Dr. Frankenstein but without the collection of body parts.
“You’re serious? That easily?” Lady Silk asked. She looked at me in awe, which told me a lot about how tough it was to preserve and use technology from a time when people like me thought it was disposable.
“That easily, and once the solar array kicks the battery in the ass, we’ll have enough juice to unplug and go inside for a few minutes after we leave the heat. The way I figure, I’ve got around an hour of time each day for us to discover the secrets of your world. And mine,” I added.
Mira was silent, as was Lady Silk. The possibilities of what we could learn tumbled through their thoughts, but one question dominated mine, and that would be the first thing I looked for.
What happened to the world?
18
The laptop had a manufacture date of June 2033. I felt a growing sense of unease like I was looking through the windows of a funeral home, but my entire world was in a casket with crying people milling around, unsure what to do with their hands.
“Lady, I’m ready for the first drive,” I said. She held one of the black wedges to me, a mixture of dread and respect on her face as she watched me hook the system together. The laptop growled, then beeped, and then settled into a low whirr.
So far, so good.
Lasser, Mira, and the Lady crowded around me, so I thought it best to ask a question before I went digging in the past. “Are you going to share anything I find with the outside world?” It was a reasonable request. Information like this wasn’t meant for people who were barely subsisting, and it would be best if the residents of Kassos never even knew I had a working computer. I’d seen villages burned over something as trivial as a functioning radio or clean water, let alone a main line to the deep past and all the information it could offer. Secrecy was best.
Lady Silk and Lasser both understood for practical reasons, Mira because she knew how the Empty worked. All three nodded with murmured assent.
“Good. Let’s see what we have, then.” I opened a drive file to reveal a line of folder icons, all empty. “Next, Lady.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, handing over the second drive.
“Empty. Never used, and no data. Like a husk. It’s still useful if we ever rebuild civilization,” I said. Even saying that out loud felt oddly optimistic, but I had to start somewhere.
“Try this one.” She handed the second drive over after giving it a kiss. “For good luck.”
I linked the drive and waited, hearing the familiar whirr of activity that sent a chill up my arms. The screen flooded with files, unfurling like flags that filled row after row, spilling down the screen in a digital tumble. “Your kiss worked. Must be lucky.”
“It’s not luck that made me rich.” She eyed me, and there was a sullen heat in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. “Call me Silk.”
“I will.” I turned back to the screen as Mira snorted. “There’s a lot here. Going to take a while, and we might be fighting the heat any minute.”
“Wait until dusk and try again? How delicate is this setup?” Silk asked. Mira eyed the system with the wary eye of someone who knew technology was made to break. Nothing survived for long in the Empty. Except her.
“Might as well. I highlighted some files and dropped them to the side for later. Based on the names, some might be log files, but a few were pictures. Both could help, but photos were something to connect with. After my long sleep, I needed a line to the past. I unhooked the laptop and took it in my hand. “It goes with me until I can farm the drives, and then we’ll have to find a safe place for it.”
“It’s safe here,” Mira said.
“For now. We won’t be able to sit on this forever, and soon enough, someone will know,” I told her as we began down the stairs. I hadn’t seen Berec since the fight at Wetterick’s, and if one spy could make it inside the walls of Lasser’s place, then there could be more.
After a few steps toward the stairs, I was thankful to be leaving the roof. Even in the morning, the sun was brutal. I had to either get tougher or live in a cave. Since I’m not a mushroom, that meant hardening to the world around me.
“Lady, I’m sure you’re really busy today. I’ll take care of Jack until later, when you return,” Mira said in a sweetly proper tone. I admired her
maneuver and grinned at Silk to take the sting from her dismissal.
I shouldn’t have worried. She gave us both a secretive smile and began putting on her disguise, left in a ragged bundle on the main table. Someone had cleaned it, which only served to make the clothing look weirdly cheerful given its ruined state. When she vanished into the disguise, she slipped to the door, stooping slightly and squinting in the sun under her hat.
Before she left, the fake beard lifted on her cheeks as she smiled. “Take care of him today. I’ll take care of him tonight.” With that, she was gone.
19
I passed the day learning my way around the post. Other than a few glares from people wearing Wetterick’s colors, I was treated well, Mira even more so.
“They don’t fear you,” she said as we examined a knife. The blade maker was an old man, his skin beaten to the color of copper by the sun, but his hands were strong as we watched him work a grinding wheel. He made knives from steel, iron, and everything in between, but it was a small, fat blade that caught my attention.
“Skinning blade?” I asked him, flipping the knife around in my hand. It had excellent balance, being made for use instead of show. Most of the things in the Empty were made for hard use, and his blades were no exception.
“Among other things. It won’t reach the heart of a beast, but it’s long enough to make them think twice before they eat you,” he said with a laugh.
I considered that. The blade would fit in my boot, and since I had room, it made sense. You can never have too many knives or too many ways to fight. “How much?”
He leaned forward with a conspiratorial wink. “Before you beat the shit out of Wetterick’s men? A hundred. Today? Thirty, and don’t tell a soul.”
I counted out the coins and put my finger to my lips, miming silence. “It stays here with us. My thanks.”
“Use it in good health, and if you don’t, then take the bastard with you when you go,” he cackled.
I threw him a jaunty salute as Mira led me to a food stall, the smell of cooking meat rising from a small hot oven. “Lunch first. Then we find you pants. You can’t wear something without enough pockets.”
“Why?” I asked her.
“The more you carry on you means reaching into your pack fewer times. Seconds count out there, Jack, and we—”
“Out there? We’re going back out into the Empty?” I asked.
“Aren’t we? Were you going to live here, under the shadow of Wetterick and Silk, until you get bored or run out of drives to search? It’s a big world, and you’re the only man who knows what was here before.” Her grin was impish. “Sorry. Can’t stop thinking like a scavenger.”
“No, you’re right,” I said, sighing. “I think I’m going to find answers I don’t like, and no matter what, this place isn’t mine. I need a home of my own.”
She looked down, uncertain for the first time since we’d met. “Will you be alone in this new place, or will you take Silk?”
I took her hands, standing in the blazing sun of an unknown sky. “I want you there, wherever it is.”
Her only reaction was a squeeze of my hands, then she turned her eyes to the vendor, a woman with a greasy apron who watched us with a tender expression.
“It ain’t often love blooms over a stick of grilled rattler, but that’s just we have here, innit? Her smile was broad and filled with gaps.
“Snake, you say?” I took stock of the grill and held up four fingers. “We’re hungry. You know how romance can make you.”
The vendor gestured down her plump frame with extravagant motions. “Looking like this? O’course I know. Can’t keep the boys offa me.”
I bowed gallantly. “Naturally, my lady.”
“Save yer lies, charmer. I’ve got somethin’ special for the both of you,” she said, handing us four skewers with more meat than the others. “For clipping those oafs who run for Wetterick. Never liked any of ‘em. Take it and be off, but don’t tell no one. I got my reputation to care for.” She finished with a wink and a leer before turning away to shout for more snakes. In response, two kids began rustling under a table, casually bringing a live rattler up to meet its demise.
“Tough place,” I said, biting into the meat. It was good—really good.
“She likes you. It’s going to be crowded in our bed,” Mira said around a mouthful of grilled rattlesnake.
“Not enough room and I’m not her type,” I said as thoughts of what, exactly, I was going to do about Silk began to form.
“You mean she can’t put you on a stick and sell you?”
“Exactly.” I craned my head toward the south. There was dust rising in the sky. “Storm?”
Mira froze, eyes narrowed as she traced the line of dust. “It can’t be,” she breathed.
“What is it?” I asked, my senses shifting into high alert.
“It’s...a caravan. From the south?” Confusion colored her tone as people began to take notice, moving toward the southern gate like a school of fish.
“Why is that a problem?” I asked. When Mira looked up, her brow furrowed, head cocked in disbelief.
“There hasn’t been a caravan to the south for months. The last one to go out was assumed lost. Family named Harling, tough people, but even the best traders can only survive for so long in the Empty. There’s not enough to the south for support.”
“If that’s the Harlings, how long were they out?” I asked.
She did some calculations, lips moving in silent awe at her conclusion. “Thirteen weeks. There’s just no way.”
I finished my lunch, tossing the sticks onto a nearby fire where some kids were heating up aluminum for reshaping. “Only one way to find out. Let’s go ask.”
She flicked her own sticks onto the fire and wiped her lips. “I’m not sure we want to know.”
20
Mira and I waited for the caravan to arrive, which took less time than I expected. Three wagons were led by ogres, their pelts dusty and rough with hard traveling.
There were six traders in all, including two kids who quickly broke the ogres loose, leading them to water and food. For some reason, I was happy to see that, even though when I made eye contact with a huge male ogre, I saw nothing resembling a mind in his docile gaze. The traders were swarmed by people, shouting and greeting them even as the more opportunistic post dwellers began waving coin bags around to secure the first crack at whatever they managed to return with.
The leaders were a man and woman, lean and tough-looking, wearing grimy leathers and battered hats with the same red sash, now faded to a sickly pink. I marked them as they opened the side of a wagon to a tumult of noise. It was filled with an array of goods, and only after waving a rifle did one of the traders get people to calm down enough that he could be heard over their roar.
“Get in line!” roared the man, a tall, skinny cowboy type with a vest that winked with metal scales. He had a gray beard and a bald head, and in between, the face looked as mean as a badger. The crowd didn’t fall quiet, but there was enough order that he began shouting items for bid, apparently deciding that three months in the Empty was no reason to delay the wheels of profit.
“Follow me,” I murmured to Mira, who was watching the two traders slip away in the din. They made a beeline to what I knew was an open-air pub consisting of three walls and a lot of alcohol. “I think we’ll buy our new friends a drink. Harlings, you say?”
“Yep. Don’t know their first names, but they’re third generation at least,” Mira said, following me on an intercept course. “Wait—it’s Doss and—” She snapped her fingers, trying to remember the other name. “Got it. He’s Doss. She’s Fleura. They’re okay. Love to hear how they did it,” she said, watching them approach the nearly empty pub. They were smart. While everyone rushed their caravan, they could get quietly drunk.
“Doss, Fleura. Mind if we buy you a drink?” I asked when we were a few feet away. The barkeep watched us with a neutral expression, unsure of our intentions and not
about to intervene if he didn’t have to.
Fleura spoke first. “Depends. We’ve been out for a piece. If you want us to talk before we wet our throats, you can fuck right off.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. First three rounds are on me; you talk when you’re ready.” I held out a handful of coins to the bartender. “What’s your name, friend?”
He took the coins, smiling with the look of a man who made his bones for the day. “Call me Croc.”
“Got it. Drinks for my new friends, and anything Mira wants. Anything cold back there?” I asked.
“Not cold, but cool. Got a sunken cellar. Summer beer is good now, will be for a few more weeks,” Croc said. He was pulling cups up from a motley collection.
“Sounds good. Friends?” I asked the Harlings.
“Same,” Doss said. His voice was deep, the words rolling.
“Summer beer and salt,” Mira said, linking arms with me as I laughed. “We might be here for a while. Doesn’t hurt to prepare.”
“A seasoned vet. I like you even more,” I told her. She gave me a sidelong smile that made my heart race a bit. I liked being the one it was intended for.
Croc poured, delivered, and we all sipped after a cursory toast. The Harlings were sunburned, a bit on the thin side, but no worse for the wear considering their time out in the desert. Something didn’t add up, and they watched me watching them.
When he finished his first mug, Doss took an unseen cue from his wife, wiping his mouth with a rueful swipe of his battered knuckles. “Guess it’s me, then. Croc, two more, and I’m buying. This might take a bit.”
“That good of a story?” Mira asked, earning a pair of nods from the traders.
“And then some. Before I say anything, who the hell are you?” he asked me. It was a direct question rather than an angry challenge, and I took it as such.
“Jack Bowman,” I answered him simply, volunteering nothing.
“So you say. Mira, where did you find him?” Doss asked. At Mira’s reaction, he winked. “I know you. Watched you and your sister selling iron and steel before you were old enough to have a beer. How is she?”
Future Reborn Box Set Page 13
