Future Reborn Box Set

by Daniel Pierce

  And a new mark emerged on my wrist, darker than the first and twice as dense.

  “I have to—” I began, but she kissed me, long and slow.

  “You only have to be here for now,” she said when we broke apart. “Then, north. I’ll show you, and I’ll help you, but I need you first. I need all of you and what you can do, and who you are. There’s more to you than a fighter, Jack.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “I don’t think it, I know it,” she said, staring at me with an intensity that was feline.

  “I believe you.” It was all I could say, because it was the truth.

  13

  We rode north with supplies, our eyes open, and the wolves trotting alongside the truck in a state of high alert. Overhead, a Condor flew lazy arcs, the Daymare operator keeping close tabs on us. The drone was armed and could stop anything short of a Cleaner beast, and even then I liked our chances because the high-volume fire would chew holes through stone, given more than one pass.

  Valor pointed out distant settlements, ruins, and anything notable. She knew the land intimately, having walked it all with her wolves.

  “Do they have names?” I asked, looking sideways at the huge male, who was a meter away and watching the horizon with canine suspicion.

  “They’ve never told me, and I don’t need to know. We have an understanding,” Valor said.

  I thought about how I felt sitting next to her and realized I did, in fact, understand. With Valor, there was something primal in the blood, and things like names or words weren’t necessary. She used hand gestures with the wolves, but with me, we talked. We spoke for an hour about where I came from, what the world was like, and the people I’d found since coming into a life I had never expected. I told her of Aristine and Andi and even Bel, and she listened, watched, and took my hand, the fine bones of her fingers interlocking with mine like a puzzle that finally fit.

  “What is that place?” I asked as we passed a tumble of stones, timbers sticking up like the bones of a giant beast.

  “There was a highway here long ago, built well after your time. We found evidence of a trading network that bloomed, lived, and died over the span of centuries, but there’s nothing left except bones. There are many such networks—empires, people, call them what you will. All they are now is something that fills in the space between your world and mine, and even then, they’re forgotten,” Valor said. She didn’t sound sad, just accepting. I suspected this was a woman who understood that death was as much a part of history as life.

  A shadow fell over us, and it wasn’t the drone. My hand slipped toward my weapons, but Valor put her fingers on my arm and smiled. “Not all predators will attack,” she said with a knowing look toward the wolves. One of them whined, looking up at a massive creature circling us at a height of a hundred meters. It fell somewhere between a vulture and a dinosaur, but without the garish feathers I’d seen before. This one was a bland gray, and for something in the air, it was well hidden.

  “Force of habit, I guess. We don’t have wolves,” I said.

  “Many people in the north do, or something like it. As the land gets colder and winters are hard, people have learned to live with animals as a kind of team. I don’t imagine there are many fur coats being worn in the south, eh?” Valor asked with a quirk of her lips.

  “I still find it—I’m not sure I understand how the seasons can change so drastically in two or three hundred klicks. We can’t be that far north, can we?”

  “We’re past the great gorges, and the Empty is beneath us. What we see now is the beginning of a plain so vast it goes all the way to the roof of the world, interrupted only by L’kemeshaw and the rivers around those inland seas. If you think the Empty is harsh, you have no idea what it’s like up there. The only people who survive alone have wolves or hybrid hounds born of the virus that are smarter than any animal,” Valor said.

  “Viral hounds?”

  “Among other beasts,” she said dreamily. The flying predator gave an angry squawk and flew away, its plans ruined by the presence of Valor’s wolves. Both watched the creature until it was far gone, then turned to their mistress with questioning eyes. They hadn’t missed a step in an hour, so I slowed the four-wheeler to a stop at a flat spot near some trees. The shade was welcome, and the wolves licked their lips expectantly.

  “They smell water,” she explained, waving them off to drink. The wolves vanished in seconds without a sound, leaving us alone except for the moving shadows of leaves dappling the ground around us.

  I itched at my arm, and Valor took my hand, turning it over. “Dark. Strong. You have a great deal of strength in your blood, and it’s not just from the original dose of nanotech. This is secondary,” she said.

  “How do you know?”

  Her laugh was musical. “You don’t think technology stopped when the world died, do you? There were millions of people still fighting tooth and nail against the threat of death. They kept working—and dying, and living—but mostly, they kept on. That’s why we have things like the Procurators. And me.” She thought for a moment, pulling at a full lip. “And you.”

  “I’m from before, but I understand. I’m a product of three worlds. Before, during, and whatever this is with you. I hope you’ll stop being monkish and tell me at some point,” I said.

  “What’s a monk?”

  “A—a person who learned much but seemed to keep secrets, making their students earn the right to know,” I said.

  She kissed me then pulled away with a grin. “You’ve already earned that. But I don’t think you’re going to like the answers.”

  14

  The drone operator saw the tracks before I did, but not by long. They followed a depression that ran east to west, tucked up along a shelf of stone that had been carved by wind and water.

  “Another highway?” I asked, mostly to myself. Valor didn’t answer immediately, so I stopped the four-wheeler and got out, waiting until the wolves were a few meters away, their eyes sweeping the area.

  “If it was, it’s the shortest road in history. Three hundred meters or so in all. This is new to me,” Valor added.

  I approached the outcropping and examined it, then saw something dark jabbing out from the bland rock. “Rebar.”

  “What’s rebar?” Valor asked.

  “Metal. Building material from a long time ago. It’s used to reinforce concrete.” I shaded my eyes and looked at the long, straight line again, using my closer perspective to adjust what I was seeing. “Not a road. A building. It’s on its side, and the covering soil finally eroded. This was”—I looked the shape over, trying to judge it— “at least forty stories high. Maybe more.”

  “Weren’t buildings like this in your cities?” Valor asked. The wolves were sniffing along the exposed concrete, noses busy and ears flicking at any noise they picked up.

  “They were, which is why something this size makes no sense, at least not out here. We’re not really in an area where there was a big city. Not during my time, anyway. That gives me an idea.” I tapped my communicator and heard the channel open. Valor lifted her brows, but I indicated I would explain in a moment. “Got my position?”

  “Got you, Jack,” came a male voice I didn’t know; most likely a Daymare on drone duty at the Chain.

  “Was there a city built here after I was in the tube? Got any sat data showing other structures around here?” I asked.

  “One moment, checking loops,” came the reply. The Daymare would be accessing vast amounts of compiled satellite film—two thousand years’ worth—and the rise and fall of empires, while not a perfect science, was easy enough to see from orbit.

  Seconds drained away. One of the wolves settled and began to lick her paws, then lapped at Valor’s hand. Valor smiled at me, and there was a heat in it that had nothing to do with the sun.

  “There was a—call it a small city, perhaps,” came the Daymare’s voice, “rose over well past a century. It’s been down for at least two hun
dred years, but they had power, water systems, and trade from the look of the routes. Here’s something new—the buildings ran along a straight line, like a planned community that never went beyond a single street. Hmm.” I heard some clicking, as if he was tapping a screen harder than normal. “Okay, so this makes little to no sense, but I’m passing it on. This city doesn’t look like it was abandoned.”

  “Storm? Fire? Geological event?” I asked.

  “I don’t see anything like that. Whatever happened to these people, it was fast, violent, and it didn’t come from the north—or the south. The trails, highways, and data all show east to west and back again. There were fewer trees two centuries ago, too. The forest is coming back up here, Jack, just like what we’re doing. And at the Oasis, for that matter. I don’t think it’s intentional, but the land you’re on was flattened by someone or something, and then it died. You’re walking on bones,’ he said.

  “That’s nothing new. Hmph. Thanks, let me know if you see anything else?” I asked.

  “Will do. Chain out.”

  I turned to Valor, who had been listening with great interest. “I’d like to look around a bit,” I said, not revealing my thoughts. I knew her, but I didn’t wholly understand her intentions. Not yet.

  “I’d like that too,” she said. Her blue eyes were lit from within with a curious gleam. “Track along the edge here and see if anything pops out? I can’t imagine you want to dig, although we do have two superb armadillos with us.”

  One of the wolves gave a yip, and the other turned away from her in the clearest case of bitch face I’ve ever seen on a dog of any kind.

  “I don’t think they like being called armadillos,” I said.

  She rubbed the back of both wolves, and they forgave her insult. “I know. It’s part of my charm.”

  We began to examine the fallen building, and I revised my estimate of its size yet again. It was partially buried, so the section peeking from the ground was only a third of what the structure might actually be. “Big bastard,” I said, looking up at a curving arc of some material used to hold the floor in place. We stood next to a small opening that exposed about three meters of building, and the gravel still spilled around the hole. Whatever happened to expose this section of building was still ongoing; the wall underneath showed new and bright, not worn by the elements. When I touched the wall, it felt—spongy? Soft?

  “Reactive?” I said, curious. It felt like no concrete I knew.

  “Memrock,” Valor said. “You’re not familiar?”

  “Never heard of it. Must be from after my time, but—what’s it do?”

  “Flexible concrete that can hold a shape, return to a shape, even heal under the right conditions. Heat will bond it back together. A lot of the ruins we find that used it aren’t really ruins. More like they’re just waiting to be found and put back to work,” Valor said.

  I pushed a thumb into the closest section of wall, watching it reform after a minute. “Like a sponge, but harder.”

  “Doesn’t bleach in the sun, either. We found buildings with signs and images that hadn’t faded over all these years. They’re kind of sad, actually. So bright, but from something that’s been dead for so long.”

  “Not all of it’s dead,” I said.

  “Like you?” she asked.

  “Among other things. The more I explore, the more of the world seems to be under the surface or around the corner. I guess I thought that everything ended with a bang, except for rarities,” I said.

  “I can’t begin to guess what remains to be found, and this is my land. I have no idea. I’ve been here all my life, and I still get surprised every day. If it isn’t echoes of that damned virus, then it’s something else, popping up after a storm, or falling out of a cliffside.” She shrugged, picking absently at the nearby wall. “I used to cry when I thought of everything that was lost, but now I wonder how much there is to be found.”

  I pulled the small, bright light out of my bag and clipped it to my shoulder. It shone into the gloom of a space that ran sideways rather than down. “I need to see what’s in here.”

  “Same,” Valor said. “Stay,” she told the wolves. They settled on their haunches and watched us slip inside the opening. A slab of Memrock was far enough away that it was easy to walk inside the building. Dirt and debris crowded the wall, which was actually the floor, and there were odd shapes thrown into sharp relief beyond the square of sunlight lighting up the area.

  I held my gun out and stepped forward onto the gritty surface, stirring a fine dust almost immediately. It was dry and hot inside, unlike any cave I’ve ever been inside. The air was dead still, and brown remains of vines hung down from above, the leaves dried to nothing. A small skeleton rested against the flat of a cabinet, its bones thin and graceful.

  “Bird,” I said.

  “Not a bird,” Valor said. “Look.” She touched an elegant end of one wing and there were claws. “Dinobird, maybe, or a bat hybrid. No telling down here. This place has been closed up for a long time.”

  We moved on, my light flaring into the darkness beyond us. The air was filled with dust motes, and they swirled as we approached as if startled to have visitors. There was a pervasive quiet that settled over us within a minute, and I saw Valor cast a wistful look over her shoulder as the shaft of sunlight from our entrance went away. We passed a low wall of debris, and then we were in total darkness.

  The interior was vast and open. All of the internal construction had collected on the bottom when it fell, creating a landscape of furniture, partitions, slabs of shattered glass, and broken devices that must have been integral to whatever purpose the place served an unknown people all those years ago.

  We found the first human skeleton almost immediately. It was scattered, the bones snow white and broken from animals or severe injury during the collapse.

  “Two broken legs, a crushed skull, and—I think her hand was missing, too,” I said.

  “Her?” Valor asked.

  “Look at her pelvis. A woman. Young, too, and tall. She died badly, I think,” I said. It was a casual thing to see death from so long ago, and yet it weighed on me. These might have been distant relatives of mine, though I doubted it. I was from a small, angry family that didn’t play well with others, so these were likely not cousins. These were just victims of some unseen tragedy that brought the giant building down without tearing it apart. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before—the walls and ceiling were intact, the floors as well—and the Memrock kept the shape when the building came crashing down.

  “What could have done this?” I asked. “It’s not a bomb. Not a fire.”

  “No, not fire,” Valor said. Her eyes glittered in the dark, but she wasn’t straining to see. Neither was I. I could have turned the light off and functioned reasonably well, given my viral load of ‘bots, but as to her—

  “How well can you see?” I asked her, stopping and turning my light off.

  I let my eyes adjust and stood there in the inky silence, waiting for her to decide how much of herself she would reveal to me. She was a woman who seemed open but was cloaked in secrets. I would ask her to decide which way we would proceed. As allies, or as distant, if friendly, companions. There was too much at stake.

  She exhaled, and I saw her hair move from the motion. “I can see—somewhat.”

  “Well enough that the light isn’t needed?”

  “Not that well,” she said, taking her time with the answer. She was still deciding what to tell me.

  I clicked the light back on but pointed it away from her. Holding up my arm, I waved at the two marks, both dark and bold. “These are nanobots.”

  “Yes.”

  “They appeared after we were together,” I continued.

  “I know. I was there.”

  “Has this ever happened before?” I asked.

  Again, there was a silence, then she said, “Yes. Once.”

  “The king?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she admitted. H
er word echoed off the distant walls.

  “Did his marks have anything to do with the reason he died?” I asked her.

  Her breath caught, and I sensed a flare of anger from my question, then I saw her shoulders lower as she regained her calm. “Are you asking me if I weakened my husband to the point that he died from fighting a Procurator?”

  “No, I’m not, because of the way you look when you speak of him. I’m asking you if the nanobots that are singing in your blood—and now mine, obviously—will take time to settle. I’m asking you this because we’re going into a monstrous tomb from another era, and I don’t know if these marks on me will make me faster, or temporarily weaker while my body adjusts to the level of technology you’ve given me with the gift of your body. That’s what I’m asking.”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I told her as something scuttled through the darkness far ahead. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  We moved forward, listening like thieves, and for tens of steps, we heard nothing.

  Then, I heard the suggestion of a sound. It wasn’t a noise—it was the rumor of a noise. It was something used to being silent; something used to being hidden. Unheard.

  I reached back and tapped Valor’s arm. In her hand, she held a wicked knife. I had my gun at the ready, and we stepped forward together in a motion that was nearly inhuman. We both pulled hard on our ‘bots for body control, moving like wraiths into the yawning space between a pile of crushed desks and—

  —bones. What I thought was debris was bones of an array that boggled my mind. I almost swore out loud at the crazy pile of jumbled skeletons. There were human, animal, and things in between shattered and tossed for a dozen meters in any direction. There were so many fragments of bone that it looked like a gravel path, each piece gleaming in my light. Someone or something had been eating here for a long time, but it was so hot and dry around us, I couldn’t imagine what kind of predator could operate in that environment.