Scavenger: A.I.: (Sand Divers, Book Two)

by Timothy C. Ward

  “Come with or say goodbye,” The Gov told Dixon.

  “Jump over, Dix,” Carroll shouted. “We’ll do this together.”

  Cool? The C icon on his visor dashboard had a green dot beside it. Why wasn’t he responding?

  The shaking increased to make Rush fall into a box. Tents collapsed. People everywhere struggled to maintain their footing.

  *

  Together? Dixon thought. With The Gov?

  Carroll didn’t seem intent on jumping off. Could she really have joined sides with that monster?

  The ships weren’t close enough to jump deck-to-deck, and some brigands crept around the bow of his sarfer, eyes up on him. They looked as one, moved as one.

  “Dix!” Carroll shouted.

  He swung his AK around and fired into the sand by the brigands, pushing them back behind cover of the ship.

  “Shoot him!” She pointed to his left.

  Fish was running at him, too close with his left hook for Dixon to do more than begin to dodge. The young man had to jump to get height with leverage, but the fist landed with the strength of a man twice his size. Confusion kept Dixon’s finger off the trigger, unsure why Rush’s son would attack him. He did not want to be the one to kill him after all Rush went through. His failure to act meant a rocked jaw and upturned world, as he fell back under Fish’s momentum.

  Flesh ripped off the kid’s back. A gunshot cracked.

  *

  Rush looked after the shot.

  “No!” Star shouted.

  The sniper backtracked with The Gov pushing Carroll into the bay of the ship.

  Fish growled. Rush looked down as Star retracted from reaching for his wound.

  “I’ll do it.” Agony marred Fish’s face as he lathered the ointment he’d offered to Rush on the gash.

  A great buck from the earth threw Rush off his feet as the ship dipped toward the aft, as weightless as a lamp tossed from a shelf. He and Star slid on top of Fish. Dixon bumped into the end of the sail pile. A great quake rumbled east to west. The bottom gave out and ship tipped them toward a crater large enough to swallow a city.

  Rush floated away from the deck, from Fish, and from Star and their baby in her arms. His momentum pulled him away from Star’s eye contact, into a backward somersault and into the new reality of a mile of open air between him and a lethal landing. His scream came out as quickly as it would from a child.

  Far below the sand that once covered Denver flushed out in a wave leaving behind the city spires and long buried streets. At his speed, the distance would still take minutes before impaling or flattening him. He inhaled deeply and tuned his body to the charge in his suit. Far less heights had left better divers dead or paralyzed.

  As the seconds and meters passed, his focus wavered with questions of who and how the world had opened up so easily. W or The Gov, were his top thoughts, but why, and still, how?

  “Rush.” Star said, her voice in his head without the use of ears. Like before.

  Wind pressed against his neck as he tried twisting to see Star somewhere above him.

  “Your four o’clock,” she said.

  He shifted and used some of his charge to slow his front flip, balancing with his stomach to the sky and Star. Fish free floated not far from her, a suitcase in his hand. The case transformed into Singer’s head and outstretched arms and legs. Rush rotated, kicking juice from his foot and spun to catch the downward pointing Poseidon with his chest to the open cavity. Rush wrapped his arms around the Poseidon’s sides and strained to turn and slip his leg into the skel. Once he did, the leg buckled around his. He found the holes to stick his arms in one at a time and was soon safely inside—minus the lack of a plan on how being in a Poseidon would save him from the landing.

  The wind silenced as the helmet clicked shut over his face.

  He continued flying toward a wide space between buildings and the steady washing away of sand into concrete. Patches of streets flattened out as sand swept away from the base of the Plaza building.

  YOU STILL AROUND? Singer spoke inside his helmet.

  Rush couldn’t help but laugh. “Didn’t I leave you in charge of keeping Star safe?”

  WHO SAYS I’M NOT?

  “Oh really? What’s the plan, then?” He fell past the roof of the Plaza building, wondering how many seconds he’d have before he was impaled or flattened. Long black poles stood on the corners of the street and hung over. His trajectory put him somewhere in the middle.

  AT THIS SPEED WATER WOULDN’T HELP YOUR LANDING. YOU’RE THE BRAIN. USE ME.

  “Let us in,” Fish said.

  What are you doing?

  “I can collect nanos. Just connect, Dad. We can—”

  Rush’s mind floated up, attached to unseen buoys and something else that stretched him out. A thin twine swatted his side and slung him in an arc toward the ground. Before he crashed another twine caught him, slowed him and threw him back toward the sky. His arc lost speed within twenty feet and he coasted back to the street. The cloth-like net caught under his leg and wrapped around his waist was also stretched and tied around the building across the street around its third story windows. His feet—Singer’s feet—landed with only enough weight to make his knees bend a few inches. He took a moment to absorb how different that landing was from what he had expected.

  The net retracted and snapped back into the buildings. The other side was wrapped around the fourth story of the Plaza.

  “What in the world?”

  Star and Fish ran for him, eyes alight with thankfulness and relief. Blue swirls swung in odd balance inside Star’s. Orange made their unpredictable tour through Fish’s. Maybe it’s genetic. Rush wanted so much for the answer to be good. For once, to be one of favor.

  Arthur was still cradled in Star’s arm. The infant’s closed eyes prevented him from seeing a nano alliance.

  Rush’s head squeezed under a great and strange pressure. The back of his eyes pinched under the weight of mental strain.

  Fish pointed up at the cliff rising from the building behind the Plaza. Splotches of dirty brown solidified into hard gray, flattening in rashes while other places lost boulders to crush and splatter on the buildings and street below. “Singer listened to my rope idea but you need to help us bolster the walls before we’re buried.”

  Chunks broke off between the solid sections in dangerous amounts. One solid section tilted, cracked, and joined the wind broken mass of sand on a three hundred foot drop. Rush inhaled and locked in on the falling solid section. Three more cracked open and began their descent. The first section, wide enough to crush three people spread arm to arm, twisted a cramp through Rush’s head. Its weight distributed into his neck as though sitting on his head and was more liable to squish bone than raise up at his command. Rush tried for two long, painful seconds before the sharp pinch in his spine forced him to close his eyes, grunt, and throw the section from his mind. He took a deep breath. “Okay.” He exhaled. Smarter to first tie up the solid sections before letting the falling pieces drain his strength.

  “We’re here,” Star said.

  Rush inhaled, relaxed his knees and, as he lifted his gaze from the sand swept and cracked concrete, tethers lanced out from his brain and spear guns beside him. Star’s and Fish’s. Their feet lined up in his periphery, and he knew they pushed on with his strength. How Fish could without a suit he would have to consider later. As his gaze met the disintegrating cliff wall, patches smacked flat, conjoined by muscle deep inside the walls he possessed and tightened as easily as he could flex his fists.

  “We’re doing this, Dad! I always dreamed of being a diver with you. And making you proud.”

  You are, son. This is my dream, too.

  Star’s joy didn’t need to be spoken. Rush felt it as true as three hearts beating as one. They were finally whole. As he strained to paint the cliff with reinforced nanos, he let himself smile and shed slow budding tears. Circuits of power spread out into the valley walls protecting his city and hi
s family with a foundation he dared someone to threaten.

  66 - Cool

  The Wayfinder’s command station included a visor to see the surface above. Infrared colors showed the sarfer’s outline in light blue on black with the life forms outlined in green on top and on the western side ground surrounding. The figure standing beside Rush lifted a baby to the crowd, eliciting upward hands and legs jumping out their excitement.

  “Cool, I hope you’re safe.”

  Cool startled, turning to see if his brother was somehow behind him. “Jeff?”

  “Cool? Where are you? How are… Can you hear my thoughts?”

  “I guess so. Unless I’m just going crazy and talking to myself.”

  “I suppose I could be the same.”

  Intuition to look down for his brother took Cool’s gaze from the surface to the rectangle top of the Plaza hundreds of yards below him. “Are you in the Plaza?”

  “Yeah. Something happened to W’s control. The nanos keeping us tied fell apart. I think it was Carroll and Dixon. We made it into a stairwell but had to run into a hallway. They’re moving again. People with guns are searching for us. Viky broke into a room and we’re hiding.”

  “Viky…is Mom with you, too?”

  “Yeah. Mom, I…Cool, can hear my thoughts.”

  Cool teared up thinking of his mom alive. The distance between them was too far.

  “Mom says she loves you.”

  I love you, too. He had to think in place of his wracking sobs.

  “He says he loves you, too.”

  Cool focused harder on the building’s outline and a sense where they might be. His hands wielded the Wayfinder’s controls to follow his mind downward. I’ll be back soon, Rush.

  He’d understand. His mom and brother were in trouble. Whatever sense was pointing him to an unseen point in the building could disappear without a trace and they could be lost, or worse.

  “Is anyone else with you?” Cool asked. He didn’t know where Dixon, Carroll, Avery, or Nedzad were. Star and Rush were on the sarfer, along with their newborn, Arthur. “Rush, can you hear me?”

  Cool looked up, but the movement on the deck and the crowd underneath was faint in details. He returned to his navigation arc around the western side of the Plaza. His visor showed depth and distance to the roof. He’d be there in twenty seconds.

  “No. Just us. Where’s Rush?”

  “He, Star and Arthur are on a sarfer on the surface. I was supposed to wait for him to call and I’d emerge for a pickup but I’m coming for you. I feel awful about it but you guys are in danger, too.”

  “Oh, Cool. I don’t know. Maybe you should stay. We—”

  “I’m already coming. I’ll pick you up quick then go back.”

  “Wait. How are you going to pick us up? What do you mean? Do you have a suit?”

  “No. A submarine. Rush and Avery built it using plasma and parts they found in the hospital.”

  “You’re…wow. Little bro. Submarine captain. In that case, hurry your scrawny butt down here. Mom…” He relayed the news while Cool navigated the submarine’s nose downward along the Plaza. The unseen connection he felt to Jeff drove him on with complete confidence they were there. How he was going to rescue them was an issue of less confidence.

  “Can you guys get to a window?”

  Pause. “We’ll try.”

  Silence. Only the hum of the Wayfinder’s engine and rapid whomp-whomp-whomp of its propellers cutting through liquefied sand.

  “Crap. Cool, hurry! Where are you?”

  Jeff’s movement halted. His heart rate spiked. Cool pressed harder on the accelerator, unsure what was changing in them that he could sense this about his brother. It doesn’t matter. They were close. Seven window levels below him, he figured, and still deep enough into the building that his first plan might have to work.

  An icon lit on the ship’s visor dash, like a block with mountain ridges on top and a narrowing bottom and a knub on the left side…a fist? The engine hummed louder and its speed increased. The ship controls had locked out, moving it out in an arc away from the building. The path felt right for where he had intended to penetrate the building.

  “E…re…ee…om!” Jeff’s words broke under the distraction of the speed, power, and danger as Cool’s ship threw him into an irreversible risk. Everywhere? Hurry? “I am.” Om…Mom?

  Cool knew where Jeff was, but couldn’t feel his mom or Viky. “Jeff,” he spoke, hoping his trembling voice and thumping heartbeat didn’t mute his intended message. “Keep Mom and Viky close. I’m coming in.”

  The Wayfinder leveled out and unleashed a new speed, igniting the word insane in Cool’s mind as he sped toward the concrete wall. What if I can’t slow down? What if I cut through them? Rush?

  No help. Only speed and shorter distance. Fear increased.

  The ship entered the wall in a shiver and gulp instead of the crash he expected. A bubble broke through the rubble, clearing a path. The Wayfinder’s engine hummed less powerfully. Gears up-shifted with halted momentum until he crawled to a stop with Jeff outside the rear door. It unlatched at Cool’s thought. Three sets of footsteps stomped inside.

  “Go!” Jeff shouted. The door slammed shut.

  Reverse? Was that possible?

  Footsteps pounded closer. “I said, go!” Jeff shouted.

  “Cool!” his mom shrieked, as though finally seeing him. Or fearing for his life.

  The Wayfinder’s engine hummed louder—clunk. Oxygen sucked from its fuel injection power. Clug. Clug. Metal whined against something in the way. Snap! A red icon of a propeller with a slash through the middle appeared center dash. The engine stalled out in a sad drowning into silence.

  GET OUT OF THE SHIP wrote on his visor before it blinked out.

  Singer? Cool thought, before the urgency of the command drew his hand back to the visor strap and peeled it off. He turned and was wrapped in a lung squeezing hug by his mom. His brother joined in. Viky grinned from behind them, happy in her tough-guy way. The military clothes they got from Fort Pope were sweat soaked and filthy. He’d smelled Jeff on a bad day before, but this was far worse.

  “What are we gonna do?” Cool’s voice creaked out as a sob. He was tired of being in charge. This problem was too big for him. He was buckling under it. “The ship’s broke.”

  Viky reached for his arm. “Where?” She slipped her hand under his arm and separated his hold from his mom.

  None of them appeared armed. How would they escape? The propeller and engine were in the back. Cool looked up at the ladder traveling up the periscope to the top hatch. “There.”

  Buckle or not, he chose not. Cool left the embrace of his family and led.

  He climbed the ladder with sweat slick hands, his body not moving as fast as his mind. He spun open the latch and pushed it open. The metal whined. Outside, the darkness of the room left him blind beyond the short circle of light escaping from the hatch. An increasingly close tap-tap-tap-tap progressed up the side of the ship, like a family of clawed animals climbing toward their prey.

  Cool reached down and helped his mom onto the top of the Wayfinder. The hatch exited out behind the turret, which had torn a hole in the ceiling in its entrance. “Up there.”

  He jumped to catch the top ledge of the turret. The ceiling it cut through was a mess of wiring, exposed insulation, and severed metal beams. He pulled himself up, turned and knelt, reaching for his mom’s hands.

  The clink of metallic footsteps continued closer to the hatch.

  Mom had one foot on Jeff’s interlaced hands. He lifted her up and Cool caught her. “I got her, Jeff. Hurry.”

  On both sides of the ship, metallic crabs scurried closer to Viky and Jeff’s feet. Viky ran around Jeff and leapt up to grab the turret top.

  A crab darted at Jeff’s foot. He side-hopped, squatted, and jumped up to grasp the turret top.

  Cool’s arms and back strained to hold his mom. He was going to drop her!

  Viky came up alon
g to take one of her arms and help him lift her out of the reach of the crabs jumping to clamp their pincers on her feet.

  Jeff clicked on a flashlight and shined a light on more than fifty crabs surrounding the ship. Their claws stuck to the turret, enabling them to climb without slipping as their bodies rotated vertically. Jeff’s light lifted to the floor above the ship. Its turret had cut through the narrow hall between offices. They stood in the entrance to a break room that exited on the side by the mold-stained coffee pot.

  Jeff took the lead, shining his flashlight as he took a right turn out of the break room. They ran into a hallway with cubicles on the left, decorated with papers and Old World tools and machines Cool could make a small fortune selling on the surface. The tap-tap-tap-tap of nanobots behind him pushed a pace too quick to stop and gather treasure.

  If we survive this, maybe we can come back.

  Jeff’s flashlight beam bounced on the wall at the end of their room and an opening of a hallway turning left. “We’re going to survive this, little brother.” He took the opening with Cool and the rest on his heels.

  You can still hear my thoughts? I thought that was just using the ship’s visor.

  The new hallway ended ten meters later with a doorway on the right. Viky slowed Jeff with a hand on his arm, taking the lead and his flashlight.

  “I don’t understand how, but I’m thinking this may be how it is for us, brother.”

  Cool remembered the fear he had when Rush healed him of the M-MANs in his mouth, and what that would mean—what Jeff would lose, if he survived—when Rush came to heal his brother.

  Viky slowly turned the handle and pressed it open, shining the flashlight into the crack. She reached back and took the flashlight, then shone it into the crack as she peaked into the hallway outside.

  Cool’s heart beat rapid thumps in his chest. He slid a half step so Jeff’s shoulder shielded him from whatever lay outside the doorway. It was good to have his family back, even if their survival wasn’t assured. And even if his brother smelled like a camel’s butt.

  With the Wayfinder stranded, how would he get up to Rush in time to save them? I screwed this up. Rush, please help me.