Future Reborn Box Set

by Daniel Pierce

  “I can push it a bit, if we leave right now. Those two flat spots will be easy rolling,” I said, jumping down from the roof and holding out my hand. She took it, then dragged the canopy down and folded the flexible frame up in two motions, sliding it behind the seats.

  I started the truck and we accelerated away to the cries of the birds, who were happy to see us go. Even in a place that had once been my home state, I still didn’t feel welcome sometimes.

  20

  We stopped two more times during the trip, once for a bathroom break while I kept yelling at Andi that there were snakes eyeballing the perfect pear of her bum. Naturally, she didn’t find me as hilarious as I found myself, so I was content to ride in silence while she rubbed her leg where she fell into some dry grass. After I offered her a drink of whiskey, she forgave me, smiled, and pointed to the north with gusto.

  “On, Jeeves!” she shouted, and for a moment, life was as normal as it could be in my fallen world.

  Then we saw a cloud of dust, so I slowed before driving into it. Our third stop of the day was caused by a herd of bison, their huge heads low, dark horns gleaming in the sun. They were half again as large as the ones I’d seen in Colorado during my youth, with shoulders a meter and a half across and muscles on top of muscles.

  “Are those . . . regular sized buffalo?” Andi had asked. I told her no, we watched in stunned awe, and after ten minutes, the herd of about a thousand or more of the beasts had gone past us, heading east at a modest walk. I guessed they weren’t in much of a hurry because there were few predators willing to challenge them in a group that size. There was something to be said for security in numbers, just like my plans for The Oasis.

  Other than the bison, we saw birds, lizards, and an array of creatures that flashed away at first sight of our truck, their instincts keeping them at maximum distance to us. After a short detour around a minor washout, we caught a break. A game trail—probably from the bison—led in the general direction of our goal, and we followed it at a smooth fifteen klicks, even brushing higher speeds for short distances where the animals had pummeled the land into something like a primitive roadway.

  With less than an hour of light left and my nerves starting to fray, I saw the tops of trees at the absolute limit of my vision. “We’re here. Or almost here.”

  Andi checked her map. “Close. Pull right in the driveway, so to speak?”

  “We will. I want the truck close, and we’re sleeping on top tonight. If there’s water and food in this forest, then there are predators, and they have the advantage of cover here. I haven’t seen giant scorpions out in the open, but we know they’re around. I’m not taking that chance,” I said, turning the wheel to leave the path and cut across grass that grew thicker and clumpier, broken by occasional flowers. Within moments, we were edging toward a slight incline, topped with an actual green forest.

  “Do you smell that?” I asked. Our windows were down, and the air was clean.

  “It’s—water?” Andi said.

  “Life. Not a desert. This is how The Oasis might be, if we can continue expanding and finding an aquifer that goes onward. This is our future, Andi. Right here,” I said. I could hear the excitement in my voice. It was like a time machine, and the vision was five years from now if we played our cards right and didn’t lose to nature. It was a huge if, but seeing the forest made it seem possible.

  “It’s beautiful. I wish Mira and Silk could see this,” she said dreamily. “Especially Mira, after all the shit she had to go through just to eat.”

  “Silk didn’t have it easy, you know.”

  “I know. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I know she had a shitty life, too, in her own way. But Mira was out in The Empty, and she was a kid. She’s still young, you know?” Andi said.

  “She’s tough as nails and she’s healing,” I said. I believed every word of it, too. We didn’t need fake nice, not in our world. Not in our family.

  “She is, and I can see she’s getting less guarded. Still, I would like them to see this. If it goes well, that is,” Andi said, then looked down at her tablet. “Left, see that tall pine, or whatever it is? The door is in front of it. Huh. Notice anything about that tree?”

  I stopped the truck, peering up at the towering pine. There was something wrong with it. Then it clicked in my vision. “It’s not a tree. It’s an antenna.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Andi said. “It’s a fake. The limbs are antenna, too. It’s taller than anything else, so it has a clear broadcast path, but to what?”

  “Let’s ask the lady of the forest when she comes out for a stroll,” I said, pulling us forward until we were less than thirty meters from the doorway. “About here, I think. Welcome to Forward Base Oasis.”

  “Delighted,” Andi said, drawing her weapon and opening the truck door. I did the same. Climbing on top of the truck, we took a look around. The place was green, lively, and damp in some spots where the sun was kept from the ground. There were areas that seemed darker green, and then places where flowers grew in abandon. Trees climbed toward the sun, vines climbed some of the trees, and everywhere, birds chittered and called as they wrapped up the business of the day, finding their roosts until daybreak. It was paradise, and it gave me hope that we really could save a piece of the world for my people.

  “Canopy or no?” Andi asked.

  “Not tonight. We need maximum vision in here,” I said with a shake of my head. “When you get down off the truck, I do too. We stay together at all times.”

  “If you think I’m wandering off like some dipshit girl in a horror film, you need to pay more attention to my habits. I’m stuck on you tonight, buddy,” she said with an emphatic slash of her hand.

  “Good. Let’s eat and settle in. Gonna be a long night, and I have a feeling we won’t be alone for long,” I said.

  We broke out more food, nibbling idly despite our hunger. The forest was noisy, though I knew many of the sounds. There was the distant shriek of a fox, coyotes to the west, and something that sounded like a small tank, which turned out to be an armadillo the size of a washing machine. It stopped close enough to us that we could see the starlight gleaming off its back as it rooted for something, snuffled, and then moved on having gouged the earth like a small tractor blade.

  “I never knew there was so much activity at night,” Andi whispered.

  “More than the day. Tough place to be a bug, or a mouse, for that matter. Everything is eating everything else.”

  “Hope we stay out of that cycle,” she said.

  “We will. Get some sleep, I’m okay listening. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

  “Okay.” She kissed me and stretched out, pulling a light blanket over herself. In seconds, she was asleep, he breath coming in a steady rhythm like the waves on a lakeshore, soft and soothing. The sky lit with stars over us, and I spent some time picking out constellations and planets, marveling at the lurid colors of the sky in a world where mankind held no sway.

  The forest went about its business as if we weren’t there, and somewhere in the night, I finally heard the noise I had been waiting for.

  I heard . . . nothing.

  No animals. No birds. Nothing. A hole in the sounds of the forest, moving left to right as the animals fell silent while someone or something moved among them, slow, steady, and without a single hint of noise. As stalking went, it was masterful, and I kept my eyes averted from the direction in which we were being watched. I didn’t freeze. I kept breathing, moving, adjusting myself with all the little twitches of someone who is fighting boredom and the night for a long watch.

  And then the forest came back to life as if it had never gone silent.

  “Huh. Slick,” I murmured. Whoever had been there was gone, and it would be morning before I could investigate. I waited until the sky began to grow light in the east, sparing Andi her pointless watch, then I settled next to her, pulled her body to mine, and slept.

  21

  “It’s daylight,”
Andi said in my ear, and I recalled one of my life lessons that I’d forgotten since coming out of the tube. The only thing worse than no sleep is one hour of sleep.

  “It is. Also, I’m dead.”

  “You’re not dead, but your breath is,” she said, smiling and handing me a cup. “Drink this.”

  “What is it?” I asked, levering myself up with a mild groan. My ‘bots were already going to work on my lingering fatigue, but even they had limits.

  “Cold brew coffee with double caffeine,” she said.

  I jolted up. “Coffee?” Where the fuck did you get—”

  She dissolved into laughter, then patted my cheek. “Just fucking with you. We have no coffee, because the gods hate us, and also, we’re in the future, where people are in hell because there is no coffee.”

  “That’s a dirty ass trick. And now I’m awake because of false hopes and lingering anger.”

  “Mission accomplished. You’re welcome,” she said. “Why didn’t you wake me for my watch?”

  “No point.” I drained the cup and wiped my mouth. “Our host was here, but she left, and I knew she wasn’t coming back. After a while, I figured I’d catch a little shuteye with you. Very little, as it turned out.”

  “She was here? How do you know?” Andi asked, breathless.

  “The forest went quiet. You can hide from people, but you can’t hide form the animals. Something moved through verrrryy slowly, and very carefully, too. It wasn’t what I heard, it was what was missing. I tracked it—or her, I think—and we can check it out today, in the safety of sunlight,” I explained.

  “What are we waiting for? Show me,” Andi said, but I sat, unmoving.

  “I’m hungry, and we’re going to eat first. Then, we go to ground with our eyes open, and ready,” I said.

  “Okay. Since you’re being so reasonable. Never thought I would be the second most responsible person in this outfit,” she said with a laugh. We ate slowly, watching our surroundings as the sun began to break through the trees in rays that looked solid enough to walk on. It was a stunning display of natural wonder, far different from the stark nature of The Empty.

  For the first time since I woke up, I saw butterflies, even though they were twice as big as any in my time. I heard the hum of insects, chirping birds, and the startled squawk of something that became breakfast for something else. It was a living forest, and I knew we had a long way to go at The Oasis.

  “Ready?” I asked when we broke from our moment of quiet.

  “Ready,” she said, following me down to land light on her feet.

  We unstrapped our guns and began to walk in a roundabout way, cautious of traps, and animals, and hazards. I knew the ground looked stable, but I didn’t want a broken leg due to a fiendish gopher who thought the forest was the best place for his home. We took our time with each step, spiraling outward from the truck but always in sight of it. There was no need for talking, because we were both too busy watching our surroundings.

  What surroundings we saw. I was stunned by the array if insects, squirrels, and other small critters that fled with angry squeaks when we stepped into their small home range. There was a healthy bed of moss—the first I’d seen—and flowering plants that were just on the edge of recognition for me, like they had once been something I knew.

  I held up my hand and we stopped a couple meters from something that didn’t fit with the rest of the scene. Five rocks were piled on top of each other in a stack, the rocks descending in size as they went up. The balance was perfect, and there was something metallic on the top rock, shadowed by the low limb of a tree with small, bright leaves.

  “See it?” I asked.

  Andi nodded.

  “I’ll approach. You back up in case—well, in case of anything, really.” I started to walk forward and froze again, this time pointing down with my rifle barrel. “Look.”

  “Edge of a print,” Andi said, crouching to examine the smear on a flat rock where moss had been moved to one side. It was a human track, and there was a second nearby. Other than that, we saw no evidence of people. It was as if they had emerged form thin air, built the tiny rock cairn, and vanished.

  “I’m going forward,” I said. I circled toward the back side of the tree, looking around at the rocks. Then I laughed, causing Andi to lift her shoulders and hands in a universal what the fuck is going on gesture.

  I reached over and lifted the shiny object, holding it up so Andi could see. It was a chain, and on the end was a key. There was something else, too. I pushed through the limb and reached alongside the rocks. “Andi, come check this out.”

  She approached carefully, then her face registered naked shock when she could see the entire scene. “What the hell?”

  Two glasses and a small bottle of something that looked a lot like booze sat on a flat rock just beside the cairn. I picked up the bottle, careful of my own health, pulled the small cork, and took an experimental sniff. “I’m no expert, but I’d swear that was rum, or something close to it.”

  “Great. We have underground pirates. Now what?” she said.

  I looked at the key, and the glasses, and the bottle. “I think they’re inviting us down for a drink. Who are we to say no?”

  22

  “I don’t know about this, Jack. I like adventure and all, but I’m not sure that going back to their place on the first date is a good idea, if you know what I mean,” Andi said, eying the glasses and bottle warily.

  “I agree. It wouldn’t be the best move to walk in there right now.”

  “You agree?” She narrowed her eyes at me, then waved her hand, asking me for the rest of my thought.

  “We wait until closer to noon, and then we turn the key and go see our new friends. Makes a lot more sense that way,” I said.

  “Huh. The sun,” Andi said.

  “Right. It will fill the opening and give us an advantage, at least for a second. If they’re hostile, we can withdraw and make them fight their way out. If they’re friendly, we get a chance to show them we’re cautious, and we get a good look at them first. I don’t want any surprises, but if they were able to get within thirty meters of the truck without me seeing them, then it would have been a simple matter to pop both of us with one of the those rifles we saw the woman carrying. I think they mean to talk, because we’re still breathing,” I concluded.

  “Okay, we wait until high noon. I feel like I’m in an old western,” Andi said with a grin. “Except for the whole underground-pod-people thing, of course.”

  “Yeah, that’s kind of against the grain for westerns. But who knows, they have rifles. Might have hats, too, we just need to wait a bit and see,” I said as we walked back to the truck and climbed up. I began getting my pack together as Andi did the same, then we went to the nearest stream, filled our waterksins, ate, and watched the hawk-sized butterflies for a while as the sun rose above us until it pierced the forest canopy like darts of golden thread. When the lines of light were nearly overhead, I stood up, offered my hand to Andi, and pulled her to her feet.

  “I hope they’re still like us,” she said.

  “I hope they aren’t. Look what happened to our world, and then look at this one,” I said, jumping down and adjusting my pack. I had my blades, rifle, and knives all close to hand, but my instincts told me there was more to this meeting than potential conflict. This was the point we’d been working toward since waking, a place in our history we could one day look back on with pride. We found an ally, we built something, and we began reclaiming our world even beyond the borders of The Oasis.

  “Shall we?” I asked.

  Andi bowed and we walked, side by side to the hidden doorway set cleverly into the ground. It was a masterwork of stealth engineering, and I didn’t see a keyhole until we were kneeling by the door.

  “I’ll be damned.” I lifted a small patch of moss that was slightly different in color, and there was the lock. It wasn’t metal. “What material is that?”

  “Ceramic, but maybe a hybrid o
f some kind. It’s not like anything we could make. Looks a bit like the outer shell they used on the comet lander in ’29.” Andi was examining the lock, then she shrugged. “It’s a lock. You have a key. Seems simple enough from here.”

  “Okay. Knock, knock,” I said, inserting the key without hesitation. The lock clicked inward, rotated ninety degrees, and then . . . nothing.

  Andi pointed to the moss that grew at the edge of the fake stone. “It’s moving.”

  The door moved a tiny amount, and then swung inward and recessed to the left in complete silence. The air that came out was cool, fresh, and smelled alive, not musty or stale. Sunlight poured past our shoulders in a blaze, lighting up the steps that descended for two meters and then ended abruptly at another door, emblazoned with the symbol EC-1.

  “Well, there’s your confirmation about the Eden Chain being real,” I said.

  Andi grunted, taking in the scene with the eyes of an engineer. I saw a chokepoint that was bad for combat, but she saw something else. “It’s an airlock.”

  “No shit. It is,” I said, noting the cleanliness of the steps, and walls, and even the complete lack of water. Whatever I’d been expecting, this wasn’t it.

  “They have an airlock, so there must be a way to cycle it from inside, unless—” Andi looked around, then reached back and removed the key. “Yeah, here it is. Look—this key has two sides. I bet the airlock is triggered by the second side. It’s a kind of failsafe. You might force your way through that stone door, but I bet the airlock is military grade, and even if you did get through—”

  “They have guns on the other side in a perfect killbox. This is American, all right,” I said.

  “If there’s an airlock, then there must be other fake trees up top, I bet. They need a way to cycle fresh air through here, and the best way would be something you couldn’t compromise with a nerve agent or smoke, just by tossing a grenade into it. Have to be tall, like that antenna,” Andi said.