Future Reborn Box Set

by Daniel Pierce

  “Then we need your help even more. Will you help?” I asked.

  The villagers conferred through a series of glances, but it was Meerni whose face softened. “Yes. We will.”

  “Thank you. How many of you want to go?” I asked.

  Every hand raised, and in a flash we became something more than a raiding party. We became the hope for a people who had little future at the hands of the Procurators.

  “Then grab your gear. Let’s go,” I said.

  21

  We walked in a group, not column, because I wanted the villagers to feel like they were allies rather than in a militia. After the first klick, some of the kids began to chatter, and by the second klick, the conversations were alive with questions and comments like we were old friends. Children can adapt to almost anything; it’s the adults who often find growth to be hard.

  “We walk for another hour, then food break. I want to negotiate on a full belly,” I said.

  “Sounds good to me,” Fortas agreed, passing word to the few who hadn’t heard. In total, there were nearly thirty of us, a ragtag bunch that resembled a displaced orphanage more than an avenging force of freedom fighters. The sun was high when we stopped, and everyone circled around digging into travel packs and pulling out small strips of jerky and dried fruit.

  “That’s it?” I asked Fortas, who was trying to chew his way through a piece of mystery meat.

  “Not much fresh while the raids are on. We cook our dried goods in the—ahh, well, we used to cook in the building that you destroyed,” Meerni said, with a hint of acid.

  “Shit. Well, hold on. Dayne, can you get the kids to build a fire?” I said. She nodded and began directing various children, who took their orders more like a game than a chore. In seconds, they were piling dried wood into a central pile where I pointed. “Rifle, please?” I asked, taking her gun and looking up.

  “What are you looking for?” Fortas asked.

  “Lunch,” I said, squinting into the sight. High above on thermal, there they were—the blood chickens that I enjoyed a love/hate relationship with. I waited until they rode the wind closer, looping in to cast a gimlet eye on us in case anyone showed signs of being lame. I fired, and seconds later one of the birds began to tumble in a flurry. Two of his friends swooped down, thinking he was an easy snack, but I shot both of them as well, causing all three raptors to spiral earthward. They landed with a thud a hundred meters away. “If you don’t mind?” I asked the kids, and they pelted away, howling with laughter.

  “That was rather efficient,” Fortas said.

  “I don’t like seeing people go hungry, and so far, we haven’t come close to running out of blood chickens. I got a little tired of them, but it’s okay. They’re good enough for today. Got that fire going yet?” I asked.

  Meerni nodded, waving vigorously at a small column of smoke that lifted into the wind before dispersing.

  “Aren’t you worried about alerting the people at the bend?” Fortas asked.

  “No. It’s a small fire, and our success isn’t tied to surprise. It’s connected to you and your ability to talk sense into these people. If not, we fight, and then it’s on me,” I said.

  “On you? You can’t be serious. There’ll be three dozen defenders at least, and armed,” Meerni said with alarm.

  “I won’t have to fight thirty people. I won’t even have to fight ten,” I explained.

  Meerni drew up short, and the column staggered, then she took another step, and like a caterpillar stepping over a leaf, we moved on as one back toward the task at hand—retrieving the birds and getting them ready to cook. “Who are you, Jack?”

  We walked while I considered my options, but then I did what I always do. I told the truth. “I’m two thousand years old. No, don’t look at me like that, Meerni, I’m not bullshitting you. I was part of a—an experiment. With nanotech, in my blood. The same thing that is happening around here, I think, happened to me, but a long time ago and under much different circumstances. I was forgotten because the virus—the big one, that is—broke free and brought the world down on our heads. When I was found, I had to survive, and in doing that I realized I could do something about this hellhole, or I could live for myself. I chose to do something, and that’s why I know some things about fighting, and people, and the assholes who would rule over them, given the chance.”

  Meerni was quiet for a long time, and we kept walking. Then she touched my arm, where a scar was fading. “What’s to stop you from turning into one of them?”

  “Silk, Andi, Mira—Dayne. Lasser. Derin. The people of my Oasis. You.” I smiled. “I choose to be accountable, and I listen to the people I trust. I have limits to what I’ll do, of course, but—”

  “What are the limits?” she interrupted.

  “Freedom. I won’t tolerate anyone who takes the freedom of another person away. If they do, they cease being part of my equation, and they have a choice. They can help, or they can get the fuck out of the way,” I said.

  Meerni nodded but said nothing. Fortas grunted with approval, and we were surrounded by the kids, who lifted the birds with ease and began making more noise than I thought possible. They were excited to eat, thrilled with the hunt, and in general brimming with youthful energy that seemed to fit their shining faces. In moments, all the birds were being plucked and gutted in a frenzy of activity, and the fire stoked high enough that we leaned individual stakes over it with large pieces of blood chicken impaled like massive kebabs.

  After a few moments, we began to eat.

  “Burned on the outside, raw in the middle. Just the way it should be,” I said, biting into the scalding portion of bird. Around me, everyone ate and talked like we were at a camping trip, which was the best thing I could have hoped for. I needed everyone calm and collected for our inevitable confrontation. This trip would end in violence, but it didn’t have to be a wasted experience. I would use the walk—and the meal—to build some kind of bond and add people to the Oasis network.

  “Let’s kick sand on the coals and go,” I said when everyone was done eating. “Better to get there before dark.”

  “Right, boss,” one of the kids sang out, and they descended on the task with a single mind. In seconds, the fires were out, our bags were hoisted, and we were ready to move again.

  “They’re going to see another side of you in a while,” Dayne said, walking alongside me with her eyes forward.

  “They will. It might be bloody,” I admitted. “Actually, there will be blood, for sure. People don’t like to surrender power, and they’re going to be scared. They’re going to see something new, and change never goes over well. Not among those who are used to living freely, although I don’t think anyone along the river is truly free.”

  “They think they are,” Dayne said. “I thought I was, too.”

  “You are now.”

  She cut her eyes to me and smiled, but there was sadness in it. “There are so many people living in Kassos who think they’re the lords of existence, and now I wonder how many will allow themselves to be freed. They’ll fight it, Jack. Change isn’t just something to fear. For them, it’s something that exposes them to answering for their crimes, and they have many to atone for. A lifetime of it, in some cases. Like mine.”

  “You were absolved when you came with me. I’m not a judge, but I am someone who can present options. You chose an option that is good for everyone, yourself included. Some of them will pick the right path, Dayne. Not all, but some, and that’s why we’re walking across this road in the sun. For the some. Not the all. Does that make sense?” I asked.

  She nodded. “How are you going to play it?”

  I knew what she meant. There was no war plan that survived contact with the enemy, and we were walking right up to their front door, regardless of the fact that we had their so-called allies with us. I expected bad things to happen, but my reaction would be what determined the outcome. I would make my decision based on what options were available. Wiping out the vi
llages from air wasn’t on the table, since I needed allies, and land, and people who didn’t regard the Free Oasis as a different overlord.

  “We’ll see. And soon, given how quiet everyone is. You hear that?” I asked.

  “They’re quiet. They’re scared,” Dayne said.

  “They should be. They’re traitors as soon as we come in view of the village, if not sooner,” I said.

  Meerni walked close to me, lifting her chin toward a distant rise of green. “The river bend. Comes in close here. That’s where the big three villages are. We’re near enough that they might send a greeting.”

  “Then get everyone arranged. Kids in the back, stopped, Dayne and I go with you and Fortas. See what we see, then I’ll decide how to move forward. I have hopes that they send their best right away. Saves us time and lets us get back on the road south, so we can cut the cavalry off before they do something stupid.”

  “They come,” Dayne said. Her rifle was up, and she peered through the sight. “Six. Armed and dragging a cage of some kind.”

  “Good,” I said.

  “Good?” Fortas asked.

  “Yes. I’ll go with Dayne. Cover me. I’m going to stand near that boulder, so I have some cover. I don’t want them shooting my stupid ass just because I refuse to take any precautions. I’m not Achilles,” I said.

  “Who’s Achilles?” Dayne asked.

  “He’s dead.” I moved forward to the boulder as the fighters advanced, raising a small cloud of dust behind them. The biggest one, a man nearly twice my size, dragged a wooden cage behind him. There was something in it.

  “Any weapons on us?” I asked.

  Dayne finished waving the kids to cover, watching to see that Meerni and Fortas had them under control. “Shouldn’t we let Meerni talk to them for us?”

  “No need. The decision has been made,” I said.

  “Bones,” Dayne said.

  “Bones?”

  “In the cage. Bones, and some have hair on them. There are—there were people in the cage. The men have shotguns and swords. In good order, too,” Dayne said.

  “Good. Shotguns aren’t my worry. Rifles are. I’m standing up. When they get within a hundred meters, put two of them down. On each end, a round through the leg, okay?” I said.

  “Got it.” Dayne’s voice was cool and professional.

  I stood, shrugging my bag off and limbering up in a deliberate show of force. Two of the men pointed their guns at me, and Dayne’s rifle barked twice. Both men went down, though the second staggered, tried to rise, and then fell, clutching his thigh and roaring like a wounded lion.

  “Nice shooting,” I said.

  “You’re welcome,” Dayne said. I could hear the smile in her voice.

  The big bastard in front bellowed some kind of challenge, pointed to the cage behind him, and shook his weapon at me. The others had their shotguns trained on me with the calm aim of seasoned fighters, but as we were seventy meters apart, I took the opportunity to yawn and scratch my balls. Then I smiled and patted the air, telling them to lower their weapons.

  The leader turned and spoke, and while the remaining men didn’t disarm, they did point their guns downward. The leader was nearly seven feet tall, tanned form the desert, muscled like a bull, and had a topknot of hair that ended in a ring of silvery metal.

  “Remind me to tell you how much I hate manbuns someday,” I said to Dayne.

  “Manbuns?” she asked, confused.

  “Yeah. Along with freedom, I intend to turn this world into a place free of stupid shit like manbuns and ironic tattoos, but that’s not important right now. I think the big bastard gets the message. Time to have our swinging dick contest, I guess,” I said.

  “Watch your balls, Jack,” Dayne said, grinning. At least she was confident.

  I stepped forward and one of the fighters lifted his shotgun. Dayne’s bullet took him through the eye, and the back of his head exploded like a tire filled with jelly. With that, the remaining weapons hit the ground, and it was me, the leader, and his gruesome cage approaching each other without anyone saying a word.

  “Who do you fight for?” the man said. His voice was even, the words clipped in a neutral accent. He sounded intelligent. His eyes were gray under a strong brow. I knew he had to die, but I looked him over anyway. It was good to understand what I was about to do had a human cost, even if it was a man who had a cage filled with bones behind him.

  “The Free Oasis. Your new neighbor.”

  “Bowman,” he said, turning my name into a slur.

  “Jack will do. What’s in the cage?” I asked.

  “Lessons. We keep a tight hold in the area for the—”

  “The Procurators, yeah. I hear that a lot. They’re no longer in charge. I am,” I said.

  “I doubt it. We provide them with resources. They provide us with life itself, you arrogant bastard.”

  “What kind of life? You mean ‘bots? Blood machines?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed at that, which told me I was right. His fighters—and some of the Konnodar, I assumed—were being given ‘bots. I had to end that practice now, so I stepped toward the man and dropped my weapons, then held my hands up, open and toward him.

  “Why would you take from them when I can give you the same things for free? I want none of your people, no tribute, or any other form of heel on your neck. I’m building a free society, and you can be a part of it, or you can be a memory,” I said.

  “Is that Meerni and her chickenshit husband?” he asked, eyes flashing with anger.

  “Yes. They’ve seen the light.”

  He grunted and then rattled the cage. A tuft of blonde hair wafted out, knocked loose from one of the skulls in it. “They’ll see the inside of this cage next. I’ll hang them until the wind whistles through their bones, and the Procurators will thank me for it.”

  “It’s a nice image, and I’m sure it works with people who aren’t me. But it’s time to give up your villages—I want all three, by the way—so that I can stop your cavalry from making the last mistake of their lives. The choice is yours. Decide.”

  For a man his size, he was incredibly fast. His hand flickered and a knife came toward me, covering the twenty meters in a second. It sliced across the muscle of my right arm, and I whirled in surprise. He followed up his attack with a bull rush, which was both stupid and fatal, but I chose to step aside and greet him with a punch to the stomach.

  My fist connected, lifting him from the ground as the inertia of his charge sent us both spinning. As he landed, I turned again, bringing my knee down on his kidney with a meaty thump. He wouldn’t be needing things like kidneys ever again, so it seemed like a good place to start taking him apart, one blow at a time.

  He had a lot of fight in him, and when he connected with a glancing left, I knew there were some kind of ‘bots in his blood. We both stood, circling, and his right fist lashed out in a blinding jab. At his height, the advantage was all his, so I slipped the blow and turned against his rotation, forcing him to shift his attack. He threw a combination, missed, and then dipped as he tried to shoot for my legs. I did the only logical thing. I slid to the right, letting him hit the ground with an angry gasp, but he kicked out and caught me with his massive boot right in the side of my knee. I wobbled just long enough for him to gain his feet as he struck again, lightning quick and looking to end it with a punch to my throat.

  I caught his hand and twisted it back, shattering the wrist bones in a chorus of snaps that made him turn white with pain. Then I locked his elbow and broke it as well, snapping the capsule even as he went to one knee. He punched me in the ribs; a hard shot that would have knocked most men out, but my ‘bots meant I was far from being average. I absorbed the blow and brought my own fist down on the side of his neck in a crushing blow that split the skin in a spray of blood.

  “You’re going in the cage, friend,” I told him, and there was only rage in his eyes despite the pain. No fear. He was too far gone to save as an ally, and tha
t meant he had to serve as a warning.

  I whirled around him, lifting him to his knees while my arms snaked around his massive neck. He brought both arms up to hammer me in an awkward series of blows, and when his arms were at their apex, I slipped my own grip down around his chest, lifted him higher, and squeezed.

  His chest collapsed in a horrific series of pops as his head began to thrash back and forth in agony.

  I kept going.

  His ribs gave in, then his sternum, and then his spine, in a noise like a gunshot. He shivered and died in a ripple that ended when his tongue stuck out and fell limp like roadkill.

  I dropped all four hundred pounds of him to the sand as I fought to catch my breath. The wound on my arm was closing, and the remaining soldiers—and Dayne and everyone else—stared at me like I was a monster.

  “Maybe I am a monster,” I admitted, addressing their unspoken words. “But I’m yours. Put him in that fucking cage. Right now. Then leave it.”

  The soldiers leapt to their feet, their fear of Dayne’s rifle now a distant memory. With a series of grunts and muttered curses, they stuffed the giant man into the wooden cage, the reeking bones inside pressed into his flesh like grim tattoos. When they were done, I waved the kids forward, turning to face the soldiers with hate in my eyes.

  “Take me into the villages, and if anyone twitches, I’ll make his death look like he had it easy.”

  22

  The village was more than a collection of buildings. There was a sense of purpose to the place, with spaces meant for commerce and trade, as well as separate homes that looked plush. I saw running water into homes, street lights, and a few working electric vehicles.

  “Prosperous,” I said to no one, but everyone heard it like a curse.

  We were greeted by an array of people ranging in age from very young to advanced years, their tottering steps and bleary eyes a sign that these people cared for the elderly.

  Perhaps they could be saved after all.