Future Reborn Box Set

by Daniel Pierce

  I rose, shaking his hand. “Three days. We’ll bring gifts.”

  “And we’ll have beer,” he said.

  I smiled, because I still wasn’t sure I believed him.

  5

  “That’s Salyers, I think. He was the main scout for the Harlings. Wonder why it took him so long to get here?” Mira asked.

  “I’ve seen him before. When they arrived, the day we met back at the post. He ran the auction from their surviving wagons,” I said. Salyers was difficult to forget. He was well over two meters tall, ropy with muscle, and clad in thin leather and a scale armor shirt that made him look like a medieval warrior. His head was shaved, but he had a long beard with braids. He waved to me, along with the Harlings and Silk.

  “You found them,” Silk said, her face beaming at the sight of the Hannahs.

  “They found us. And more,” I said, sending greetings to everyone before shaking Salyer’s hand. “Glad you made it,” I told him, which was the unvarnished truth.

  “Glad to be here, but it isn’t just me,” he said. His voice was deep and resonant; the kind of voice that would suit an auctioneer. Or a sergeant.

  “You brought friends?” I asked, taking a waterskin from Silk, who shooed Natif away to get the fire started for dinner. It was nearing sunset, and Mira was ready to rest. My curiosity—and ‘bots—made sleep a distant call, so I drank, then turned to Salyers and waved that he should continue.

  He hesitated, but a look at Doss Harling put him in the mood to talk. “I haven’t brought them, not without your permission. It’s a bit more than just a wagon.”

  “How many, and more importantly, what can they do?” I asked.

  His pause was shorter, but still present. “Thirty people, eight of them children. No infants, but two pregnant women. As to their skills, they all have a trade. Want me to run them down, so you can consider?”

  “Sure. Derin and Scoot are here, but even someone to help them would be welcome. We need armor like you have, among other things,” I said.

  “We have tanner, and a scrivener, too. Three weavers who also sew, a mason, two carpenters, and a family of four who are the best damned scavengers and hunters I’ve ever seen, other than me,” he said, his lips fighting a smile.

  “Other than selling the goods, what do you do?” I asked.

  “I ran the auction because they were tired. As to my task, I’m a tracker. I find things, but I also find trails. It’s all I’ve ever done for fifty years,” Salyers said. There was no lie in his words, just confident truth.

  “Tracker, eh?” I nodded in appreciation. “These people, they’re back at the post?”

  “No, too dangerous. They’re five klicks out, at an outcropping to the west. You know it?”

  “I do.” I exhaled, then stuck out my hand again. “Go get ‘em. A mason, you said?”

  “The best I’ve seen. His wife does fine chisel work, too. They’re damned fine builders as well as artisans, and not too bad with some Hightec. Most of the group has experience in The Empty, though a few have spent time in Kassos,” he said.

  “Take him out and bring them in? Can you do it at first light?” I asked Mira. She nodded without hesitation. “Good. Looks like we’re growing faster than I thought. We’ll need to sort out Rowan’s offer and get serious about building our next group of homes. Or the first group, really.”

  “I like sleeping under the stars,” Mira said.

  “You won’t in a storm. We’ve had good weather for now, but that changes soon with the rains,” Doss Harling said. “Apocalyptic. Sand a meter high, and wind so hard it scours the skin from people who are exposed. Then, the rain comes and you’re trapped in a flooded washout. The Empty will kill you in a second, make no mistake. We need houses, and the sooner we build, the better.”

  “Can we build half below ground, to save on stone?” I asked everyone.

  “That would be even better. Cooler in the summer, protection form wind, and less material. With that design, we could break ground tonight, and add the new people to labor details as they settle in. By summer, we would be in homes,” Salyers said.

  “I like that idea,” Silk said, kicking at the gravel. “Be nice to feel like we belong.”

  “Agree. Let’s make that happen. Salyers, you said you’re a tracker, and that means I have your first trail. Can you be ready at daybreak?” I asked.

  He was road weary and dark with sun, but he gave a single sharp nod. “I can.”

  “Why?’ Silk asked. There were layers to her question.

  “Let’s eat and talk. We found another group of people, and they have what we want. A power plant, or at least access to it, and their leader proposes an alliance. I’m willing to hear him out, even if I don’t trust him,” I said.

  Natif called us from the center, his high voice echoing through the trees.

  “Dinner time,” Mira said, looping her arm through Silk’s as we began to move deeper into the grove.

  “You planted all this? Out here?” Salyers asked. His voice was plainly admiring, if dubious.

  “That’s a long story, but there’s a lot more to this place than trees and water. Let’s grab dinner and talk, then we can go underneath to the facility,” I said.

  “The facility?” Salyers asked, eyes darting around as he marked the details of underground buildings.

  “Old, but still functional, and worth your time to see. But first, pig, and then, the water wheel,” I told him.

  “There’s two phrases I’ve never heard before,” Salyers said over the group laughter. “At least not in the same sentence.”

  “Get ready to say that a lot, friend. This isn’t the post, and it’s nothing like The Empty. Think of it as a time machine, but with better barbecue,” I told him, and his answer told me he was a man worth respecting because he made a beeline for the food, as any good soldier should do.

  When he was off and eating, I turned to Mira, who regarded me from half-closed eyes. She knew I’d been thinking, and that usually meant an idea that she wasn’t going to like. At least not completely.

  She was right again.

  “In the morning, change in plans. Just me and Salyers to go see Rowan. I need you here for something,” I said.

  Her intake of breath meant she was getting ready to argue, but I put a hand on her shoulder, looking down with a smile. “I need you here, to do what I can’t. You and Silk have to draw a map of the rocky outcroppings for building materials. I don’t know what Derin and the new people can do with raw stone, but you’re the ones to lead them there, at least on a map. Use a piece of hide, ink it, and send them off in the morning. I have my reasons, but you’re going to have to trust me because it involves splitting our forces. Salyers might be a great tracker, but you’re the best. Do this for me, okay?”

  She pretended to think, then angled her head up at me so I could see the hint of her smile. “So you’re saying I’m better than him?”

  “At everything,” I said.

  “Good answer. You trust Salyers?” she said.

  “I do. I trust the Harlings, too. They’re in it with us, now. Their kids are here, and their lives are here. Whatever we’re building, they’re in on it, and that means using them to the fullest advantage from day one. Like now,” I concluded.

  “I’ll take Doss down into the underground, and we can look for those—what did he call them?” she asked.

  “Breaker bars. Long steel poles that he can put a point on. I’d wager he’s going to bust rock with them and find a way to make concrete, or maybe just mortar, but either way will work for making low walls. The key will be how to make roofs. We can’t cut down the trees, but we can’t leave the buildings open,” I said.

  “What about Alatus? We could tear down all those metal walls in the hallways, and even if it was only for a year or two, they would hold as a roof. Then you might get your sawmill, after there are enough trees. Still doesn’t make a permanent solution, though,” she said, taking stock of potential housing sites. Wi
th dozens of new people, we would need way too much roofing material to rely on scavenging.

  I snapped my fingers. “Unless we used Taksa’s wagons, and the broken wagons from the old Harlings convoy,” I said,

  “How many shelters could you cover with that? Twenty?” she asked.

  “At least. And the material is close, and already cured. That’s our solution for now,” I decided. “I’ll tell Derin and Doss, and Fleura can do the math. She’s the numbers person among the Harlings. We’ll pick a standard size of house, mostly for sleeping, and spread the wood around as best we can until we engineer something better.” I exhaled with relief. Fighting giant hogs was somehow easier than calculating building materials, but we had a solution for the next few months.

  If anything, the roofing issue reinforced my belief that to survive, we had to make things rather than just find them. That would be the difference between the oasis being a glorified camp and a thriving town, and the addition of a power plant—or access to it—would go a long way to securing our future.

  Mira touched my arm, ending my reverie. “Tell the rest of it now. The part you don’t want anyone else to know.”

  “You’re going to follow us,” I said.

  “Me? Or . . .?”

  “You and Silk. I’ll do my best to leave a trail, but Salyers will probably want to run, and there’s no way you could keep up. I know you’re tough, but he’s tall, and if he sets the pace, it will be tough, maybe even for me. That means you set off two hours behind us, follow our trail, and stay far enough back to help in case something goes wrong. I don’t trust Rowan, or Lyss, or anyone who isn’t right here, right now,” I said.

  “Stealth and speed. What about arms?” she asked.

  “Bring everything you can carry. Bring three days of rations, full skins, and some tools. If our negotiations go well, I’ll signal you. If they don’t, you’ll know, because Salyers and I will be forced into a fighting retreat. I don’t know how many people Rowan has, but I know it’s enough to cause us a problem,” I said.

  “We’ll hang a half-klick out of their camp. No fires, and we’ll dull anything metal for daytime recon. What if things go well? What then?” she asked.

  “We wave you in and make no apologies. I don’t care about his feelings. I care about my people and that power plant.” I stood, reaching down to take Mira’s hand. “Let’s spread our plans, and then tell Salyers the good news. We leave at dawn.”

  “Maybe you do. I’ll be sleeping. The boss is away tomorrow. Gonna sleep in,” she said, grinning.

  I leaned in to her, whispering. “Who said you were going to get any sleep?”

  6

  Salyers was my kind of guy, rising before dawn and waiting, eyes peeled to the desert, as I double-checked my pack and weapons. Just because we were invited didn’t mean we weren’t going well armed.

  “You have enough ammo?” I asked him.

  “For this,” he said, lifting his rifle, “and this.” He turned to show me a holster, the butt of a pistol rising above the worn leather. “My knives are in a more personal area, and no offense, but we don’t know each other well enough yet.” Even in the minimal light, I could see his wink.

  “Fair enough. Let’s move. After you, I believe?” I said, waving to the expanse of desert just now brightening with the day.

  “I’ve lost more maps than I have, but we don’t need one to find this place. We’ll track northeast at speed, and break once we hit the first ridge of high ground, about ten klicks to the east. You up to run? Nothing crazy, just enough speed to keep us ahead of the sun,” he said.

  “I can run. You lead.”

  “Let’s go,” he said, breaking into a loping trot that ate up ground with deceptive speed. He was well into his years and tall, but still in the kind of shape that The Empty demanded from people who wanted to live more than one season under the sun.

  We ran on, our pace steady, only slowing to adjust direction based on the ground. After an hour, we passed a series of three dry stream beds, the high water marks well above my head and carved deeply into the hard banks. There were scrubs and cacti and all manner of random succulents, some in large enough patches that I marked them in my mind as possible water sources for our inevitable expansion.

  “Think there’s a well to be dug back there?” I asked as we passed a cluster of fat-leafed succulents huddled around a small depression.

  “I know it. This desert is recent, in terms of the land, and the problem isn’t finding water or even getting to it. The problem is living long enough to drink it. Predators, the sun, even lightning can kill you out here before you can tip a skin up to your mouth, and that’s no lie,” he said in between deep, rhythmic breaths.

  “We’re going to dig them and stone the walls. Each and every one,” I said.

  “Then you’ll want to cover them with something, or at least leave a tile overhang. The less sun on the water, the longer a spring will last. Some of these hillside springs are only temporary, but the ones down low show a lot of promise for the future. I hope I’m alive to see it,” he said.

  “Why wouldn’t you be?” I asked him, drawing breath through my nose to muster enough wind to speak. It was hard going now, up a low slope that seemed to rise forever. Then, in a cool rush, my ‘bots kicked in and I felt the burden on my lungs vanish, like an afterburner of oxygen that gave me breath and relief all in one moment.

  “Because of you, Jack,” he said.

  I stopped, then he stopped after running on for a few steps.

  “Say again?” I asked him, unsure of what he meant.

  “He let his breath come back, then put his hands on his hips and smiled. There was no malice in it, just acceptance. Salyers was a seasoned fighter, and I understood that what he was about to say would be the unvarnished truth.

  “You’re leader, Jack. You fight without hesitation, and you’re looking beyond the meal, and the horizon, and tomorrow for the next step. You’ve got plans, and those plans require people like me. People who can do things—well, mind you, but maybe not as well as you given enough time for you to learn. In your heart, you think like that, don’t you?”

  “No, I,” I started, then stopped because it was a lie. He might think my arrogance was born of youthful stupidity, but it wasn’t. I’d been a soldier and a computer engineer, and even then I’d been a capable person. But now, with the ‘bots surging through my body, there was no hesitation, no need to vary from the path I had in mind, both for myself and the ruins of my world. “You’re right. I do.”

  “Well, we can add honest to your list of qualities. The Harling family doesn’t suffer fools, and Doss and Fleura’s trust of you goes a long way to me being here right now. But a strong will isn’t enough, not for what you have in mind, and that’s why I know that people in your circle might get hurt. Are you willing to bleed for your idea? This thing you want to build?” he asked me.

  “Yes.” One word. That was all I needed.

  “Then other people will, too, but sometimes it isn’t their decision. Remember that when you make your way forward on this path, Jack,” he said.

  “I will. Thanks.”

  “Now then,” he said, cracking his back and smiling at the rising sun, “let’s run.”

  We stopped four hours into our run, pulling at the waterskins as we climbed the final ridge of broken rock. Stone pillars rose through the sand like broken teeth, their surfaces scarred by the ceaseless winds that blew from the west.

  “Still on the right path?” I asked. Below us, the desert sprawled in raw beauty, a dark smudge rising on the horizon.

  “Dead on. Straight ahead, you see it?”

  I looked, bringing my focus to where he pointed. Something gleamed, tiny but bright through the haze of shifting air. “A beacon?”

  “A welcome, if what you say is true. I’d say that’s the spot. We should eat first, and try to get there before nightfall,” Salyers said.

  We were bolting down roasted pork with swigs of water,
using the rest more for reconnaissance than recovery. Salyers was tough; despite our half-day run, he looked ready to go for the rest.

  I waved to the east, where more plant life dotted the landscape at the utter limits of my vision. “Change of scenery over there.”

  “Been there a few times. Herd animals farther beyond, and an actual river. Runs year ‘round, and deep enough to be cool in the middle. There’s some grassland to the east of the river, but it’s dangerous,” he said.

  “Why?”

  His answer was instant. “Lions, and a lot of them. Big prides that roam north to south, preying on the herds and anything else that gets in their way. I’ve heard they come east and pick off the desert crocs to keep the population low, almost like they know what they’re doing.”

  “Lions. I’ll be damned.” I’d seen animals that were well beyond anything you could call natural, but the idea of an African apex predator running wild nearby had never occurred to me. “I guess they survived the fall.”

  “You mean the virus? They didn’t just survive. They were made for it. So were jags, wolves, a lot of the predators. I don’t know much history, but I can look at a beast and tell if it’s built for killing. Everything along the rivers is made for killing, and that doesn’t even take into account the actual water,” he said, pulling at his waterskin and rinsing his mouth. The pork was good, but fatty, and I did the same to clean my teeth.

  “How far have you been? To the big river?” I asked.

  “Once, and I won’t go back. Ten times the size of any water I’ve ever seen, and full of creatures that make a boat into a death trap. I didn’t see any settlements the entire time we were looking for a way across, and there was no fucking way I was getting wet with all those teeth around. Big animals, and mean. I saw the skull of a gator spilt wide open by something meaner. Must’ve been three meters long. Biggest gator I’ve ever heard of, let alone seen, and it was nothing more than dinner. No wonder we stay in The Empty. Everywhere else wants us even more dead,” he said.