To Wake the Living (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 2)

by Robert F Hays

  “Jamie, it’s Jim Young and President Sam. By the way, Mr. Young, this’s my wife Jamie and Sean and Tristan.”

  “Good heavens Tim, are you sure this won’t endanger the kids?”

  “They’ll be worse off if we don’t do something.”

  Jim gently gripped Jamie by the shoulder. “I take it that you have children on the colony ship.”

  “Yes, three of them.”

  “Well, we have hundreds of people working on getting them back. We will...”

  “What’s all this talking about?” asked a voice from the fog. “You were told to stay in the vehicles.”

  “Shit, it’s Rosco,” Tim said.

  A large man appeared through the fog and strode up to the group. Jim glanced down to see a sidearm still holstered at his right hip. He hid his own laser pistol behind his back.

  “Just talking,” Jim said while watching the man’s right hand. “Any word on when we can go?”

  “When you’re told, shit head.”

  The insult was too much for Jim’s stressed psyche. He raised the laser pistol and pointed it at the man’s head. “That’s Mr. Shit Head to you. Get his gun Tim.”

  Tim reached out and grabbed what appeared to be a military style forty five.

  “You’ll never get away with this.” Rosco said.

  “How cliché,” Jim said.

  “Sounded like he’s impersonating Jimmy Cagney,” Earl said from the observation post.

  “Chris, put the camera on him so we can get a visual,” Herb said. “Switch it to infra red so the psych team can get an emotional reading.”

  Out of the corner of his right eye Jim saw Chris reach for the camera on his belt and after adjusting it aimed from the hip.

  “Metallic object in his right upper jacket pocket,” another, unrecognized voice said. “Could be a pen phone. I have an image from the knees up, please scan lower.”

  Jim glanced to one side and saw Chris point the camera at the man’s boots.

  “Definite metallic heat absorption pattern in his right boot. It’s a knife.”

  Jim slowly wandered around the man’s right side. “Don’t turn ‘round.”

  Once at his back, he reached under the man’s arm and to his throat then undid his suit down to the right leg. Reaching in, he then withdrew his hand holding a short, double edged boot knife. He then reached into the man’s jacket and procured the pen phone.

  “How? Ah...” exclaimed the man in amazement.

  “I’m psychic.”

  “Let me see that there phone thaing,” Sam said. Jim threw it to him and Sam carefully looked it over. “Ah thought the color looked familiar. This is ma phone thaing. Ah bought it from that there scalawag at the mall. Looks like we caught ourselves a horse thief.”

  “The Stutchmans gave it to me,” the man protested.

  “Well you have it back now,” Jim said. “I’m sure this man will make up for his sinful ways and tell us a few things.”

  “I ain’t talkin’”

  “Cagney again,” Earl said.

  “Hate to do it,” Jim said, “but we’re going to have to use the Cagney. It’s an interesting device. It interacts with the nervous system causing the most horrible pain with very little effort on my part. Great gadgets they have these days.”

  Jim walked over to Sam and extended a hand. Sam hesitated for a moment.

  “Sam, give him something, anything from your belt,” a voice said.

  Sam pulled an audio recorder from his belt and handed it to Jim.

  “Fear level eight,” the voice said, “the bluff is working. Try taking a pace toward him holding out whatever it is you have.”

  Jim complied with the advice.

  “Confirmed, you have him scared. Fear level twelve. Be careful, his reaction could be erratic.”

  “Dad, tell him you’re going to cut his dick off,” Colin said.

  “Colin,” Carol said from the observation post, “disconnect right now. You shouldn’t be listening to this.”

  “Damn,” Redmond said, “they must have patched it through to the 3V room while I wasn’t looking. I’ll take care of it.”

  “But mom, we were just trying to help...”

  “Hold on now,” Sam said, “if’n y’all are goin’ ta use that there thaing again ah has ta take a walk. When ya used it on that guard fellah we caught yesterday, ah couldn’t take the screamin’.”

  “Ah, what do you want to know?” Rosco asked, taking a half pace backward.

  “Who are the two people they want woken up before the others? Did you hear anything about that before you left yesterday?”

  “One’s ex British S.A.S. and the other’s an American expert in military ground surveillance radar. We have a radar system, but don’t know how to use it.”

  “Hide the device,” the voice said. “Go by the reward for correct action method. If he hesitates again, produce it.”

  “You’re doing just fine,” Jim said, folding his arms with the recorder under his armpit. “Now, when do they plan to have it operational?”

  “I.. Ah..”

  Jim produced the recorder again and waved it in front of him. “You’ve done well so far, don’t ruin it now.”

  “Two to three days, depending on how cooperative the experts are.”

  “Sincere reply,” the voice said.

  “Now we want you to do something. Call in and tell them that two of the three vehicles just accidentally drove off a cliff with no survivors.”

  “The Stutchmans will kill me for doing that; you’ve gotta offer me a better deal if I do.”

  “As President I’ll offer ya a deal. Y’all will go ta jail ‘stead of bein’ strung up ta the nearest tree.”

  Jim watched the man’s face, hoping that he didn’t realize the fact that the nearest tree, tall enough for a hanging, was over two hundred light years away.

  “Ok, I’ll do it. Just keep me safe from the Stutchmans afterwards.”

  “Looks like we have a convert,” Jim said, turning to Tim. “Can you find me two volunteers to walk back to the settlement when the fog lifts and tell them that the third vehicle went off a cliff shortly after the first two? That should cover the disappearance of the rest. Tell them it was all due to this guy’s stupidity.”

  “I think I know who to ask,” Tim replied. “What’re the rest of us going to do?”

  “Come with us. Hope you don’t mind a diet of mulch weed.”

  * * *

  The arduous trip back to within range of the sensors took two hours. Jim and Sam walked in front of the first vehicle scouting the terrain. A colonist hanging out the passenger side window held a nylon rope around Sam’s waist gently taut. The driver slowly followed in the direction of the rope where it disappeared into the fog.

  A similar rope system lead from the back of the first vehicle to the second and from the second to the third. A coded system of tugs sent messages of speed up and slow downs along the chain.

  “Levin, if you could work on it, can you make their radar system look as if it broke down through natural causes rather than sabotage?”

  “Oh yes,” Levin said as Jim heard the engine of the vehicle behind him roar as it tried to push its front wheels up a low rock formation the two had just passed. “But I have a better idea. I believe I can install a remote so that anything they see on their screens has been filtered through our computer system. They’ll see only what we want them to see. I recorded the schematic of that unit while I was investigating their portable electronics systems.”

  “Copy of schematics received,” Herb said. “Tech team three agrees that it would be simple.”

  “I indicated with a blue arrow where I would splice in the device and am sending you the diagram of the unit I can put together out of the equipment I have. I would like to know if you agree with my technical logic.”

  Jim stopped then stepped to the left as a large rock loomed out of the fog in front of them. Sam tugged three times on the rope, the signal for an imm
ediate stop. They heard the sound of the engine as it reduced to an idle.

  Jim walked to the limit of Sam’s vision. “This way,” he said, beckoning. “There’s a gap between two rocks. It seems more than wide enough.”

  Sam tugged once on the cord while moving to the left indicating a change in direction of travel.

  “They agree,” Herb said, “But recommend replacing the two three two B seven five disk with a six four.”

  “The only six four we have is in one of the sound sensors. I’ll have to use the seven five.” Levin replied.

  “They say we can compensate at this end,” Herb said. “We’re in contact with the manufacturer right now for the alignment codes.”

  “Levin, you know you’re going to have to crawl into the camp with us, don’t you?” Jim said.

  “G.. go in with you? Could you just bring it out and then put it back again after I have fixed it?”

  “You must have seen how big it is. You’re going to have to go in with us.” Jim made a useless look backward as he heard a crunching sound then a long scrape as metal and rock passed one another while in contact. “Try explaining that to the insurance company.”

  “I.. I.. I am no good at that creeping around with a pistol and shooting people”, Levin said. “When I was young, I always lost in those 3V games where we fought Imperial soldiers. I always got myself killed by doing something wrong. After a while, my brothers refused to play with me. I would always give their position away.”

  “Can you teach one of us to do it?” Marie asked from the observation post.

  “I very much doubt it, in the time available. The color coding and serial numbers on the components would have to be memorized.”

  “You can do it Levin. Earl, meet us at the mud river crossing and bring three transceivers so the vehicles can find their own way back to the cave.”

  “We’ll meet you there too,” Carol said. “Peter just brought us a present.”

  “A what? He didn’t say anything over the system.”

  “I changed to another channel,” Peter said. “I didn’t want to interrupt what you were doing. What we have are two more colonists and a guard.”

  “I suppose you have a legitimate reason why they’re missing.”

  “Poor people got themselves lost in the fog. They were just walking out to service a generator and missed it. They probably will walk around in circles for hours before drowning in a deep mud pit.”

  “You are in range,” Herb said. “We can guide you from the driver’s seat and that’s it for my shift. Have to go home. Margaret will guide you the rest of the way.”

  “Have a good one Herb,” Jim said as he turned to walk back to the vehicles.

  * * *

  “I told you I was not good at these physical things,” Levin said while Chris helped him back to his feet. “I hate to walk on uneven ground. I have never been camping and even in the park I only walk on the paved paths.”

  Shortly after sundown the colonists were ordered back into their camp. Too many were getting lost only meters from a tent. From overheard conversations they had learned that the guards were fully confident that no one could approach their position under the circumstances.

  The fog during the day was difficult to negotiate. At night it was nearly impossible. Visibility was zero. A hand held up to a faceplate could barely be seen. The party were blindly placing one foot in front of the other testing each step as they went. The guidance from the controllers was a continual chatter.

  “Five, you have a mud puddle a meter in front of you.”

  “Three, five left, you’re wandering again.”

  “Two, slow down before you run into one.”

  Jim stopped for a moment breathing heavily. “We should’ve done this tomorrow night. Twice in one day is a strain.”

  “Two stop, one is within arms reach.”

  Jim felt a tap in the middle of the back. “Sorry Earl, getting tired.”

  “One, twenty more meters and you will be there. Alarm wire two meters in front of you.”

  Jim took a couple of careful paces and stepped painstakingly over the tripwire. He was thankful for the leveled, vegetation free ground that surrounded the camp. It allowed him to walk without feeling for each step.

  Jim came to a halt. “Where are you Peter?”

  “One, put your hand out,” Margaret said.

  Jim extended an arm. “There’s nothing there,”

  “Slightly to the left dishy,” Peter said tapping him on the shoulder. “Follow this wire back to the tent.”

  Jim grabbed vaguely in Peter’s direction and felt a hand grasp his forearm and lead it to a wire. Following the wire, he walked rapidly holding a hand out in front of himself for protection. After a couple of minutes, it contacted a figure.

  “The door’s right here,” said a voice that didn’t come through the radio.

  A soft glow indicated an open door and Jim stepped forward into an airlock. For the first time in hours Jim could see his surroundings. The others followed one by one. The door behind him closed and he felt the soft breeze of the purge air system that prevented the hazardous outside atmosphere from entering. A green light above a second door lit up. Jim turned the opening lever and entered.

  “It’s good to see you again Jim,” Dr. Ellison said.

  Sam, Earl, Chris, Levin and Marie entered through the door behind him.

  “I’d like to introduce you to the resistance committee. This is Dave Wallace.”

  Jim removed the cowl of his suit and extended a hand to a tall lanky man with a narrow moustache.

  “Dave’s a bit of a waffling old boy scout but you can count on him if the shit hits the fan. The old fart next to him is Wally Avalar. Don’t know how the decrepit old turd got himself on a colony ship, but he’s here anyway.”

  “Probably due to my sense of humor,” said the short wiry man in his early fifties as he shook each hand in turn.

  “Next is Sue Mills, she’s the one with no boobs to speak of.”

  “Do you have to insult everyone doctor?” the tall thin blond said.

  “Yes,” Ellison replied, “it’s a psychological defect. I have to boost my own self image by running everyone else down. So shut up and shake hands.”

  Jim looked around the gray interior of the aluminum framed tent. It was the first time he had been inside one. He had seen them in the hold of the colony ship, folded and wrapped. He had also seen the diagrams of their general shape but didn’t realize how much they would remind him of the army in which he had spent fifteen years.

  It was a storage tent stacked high with a mixture of old cardboard boxes and newer plastic composite packing cases. The older supplies were mostly used as a backup as they were worth more in their salability to museums and collectors. It was decided that they would wait until the colony was self-sufficient in production before disposing of their assets.

  A tall dark haired man entered from a side corridor and quickly scanned the party. “Our visitors have arrived,” he said in an Oxford British accent.

  The ten by twenty five meter tents were lined up in rows with sealed corridors connecting one to the other. A similar corridor to an adjacent row connected every sixth tent. It was technically possible to walk from one end of the vast complex to the other without going outside.

  “Oh, yes,” Ellison said, “this is Harry Norton.”

  “Formally of His Majesty’s armed forces, Special Air Services.” Harry added.

  “Ah,” Jim said with a smile, “you’re the one who’s going to hunt us down.”

  “Well the fact is, when I was first told what was going on, I told them to stick it in their ear. That government chap friend of yours told me I should cooperate, at least on the surface.”

  “Better working for us than dead,” Peter said as he entered through the airlock followed by Chris.

  “And the other one? The radar tech?”

  “I’m not so sure as I trust him,” Harry said. “I’ve only been
properly awake for the past twenty four hours, but during that time I have been doing quite a bit of listening into conversations. Attitudes seem to be divided.”

  “Yeah,” Jim said. “Some hope to become petty dictators themselves within the system. They hope they’ll be elevated to the rank of Baron or something.”

  “Someone else wants in on the conversation,” Peter said placing a small cube shaped object on a crate.

  Jim laughed. “Thought something was missing, the radio is silent.”

  “Mr. Norton’s assistance has been invaluable,” Margaret said from the cube. “Translation of culturally based language such as gestures, quips, jokes has increased our efficiency.”

  “In other words, trust no one,” Harry said. “Are we ready to go?”

  “How about people that know us by sight?” Jim said.

  “There are thirty five,” Margaret said. “We have plotted a route to avoid them.”

  “Fine,” Jim said. “Levin, Harry and I will head for the radar system while the rest of you wait. Be prepared to cover us in case we have to run for it.”

  Jim removed his suit taking its receiver and inserting it in his ear. The three then entered the corridor.

  It was dark in the adjacent tent. Stacks of bunks three deep filled the room barracks style. Jim recognized the framework as originally having supported the cryo chambers and the beds as having come from the linings of the chambers themselves. All were occupied by sleeping males.

  “Two more tents then turn right,” Margaret said in Jim’s ear as they entered a second tent.

  “Excuse me!” exclaimed an annoyed female as she covered her underwear clad body with a protective suit. “This is a woman’s dorm tent.”

  “Sorry,” Harry said. They hurried toward the next corridor. “We’ve only been awake a few hours and keep getting lost.”

  “Well keep your limey ass out of here,” the woman said to their backs in an American Midwestern accent.

  “Don’t throw him out if he’s a good looking pommey,” said a girl with an Australian accent from a nearby top bunk.

  The next tent was also female, but fortunately no one was awake. They made a right turn and proceeded through a longer corridor that connected the rows.