Project Dystopia (The Directorate Book 8)

by Pam Uphoff

  It must have been cramped before they'd added eight wheels. It was twelve meters long, and no driving deck, of course. The trailers were shoved through the gates, with nothing but momentum and a small steering wheel to get them out of the way. But even though it had side modules that could be pulled out, Ebsa knew what eight men in a small area felt like. Add the wheels off both ute and trailer, and man-eating bugs roaming outside . . . Just thinking about it was enough to induce claustrophobia and cabin fever.

  Ebsa sighed. "We'd better move you to the crawler and take you home."

  Ogly was shaking his head. "Can't. The bugs have been bad. I think the coast had a milder winter, and wetter. I think the bugs are swarming, all of them. Right now."

  Chapter Six

  18 Jumada 1408

  Coast Camp, World X 22845

  "We can't leave these guys with a single shooter. Yeahza's good, but there's only one of him."

  Ebsa bit his lip. "Right. Well. In that case I'll see about reinforcing some spells around the camp. In the morning, we'll get the new tires on the wheels, and we can all leave. Return midsummer when the bugs have all . . . gotten back to their normal behavior."

  "If they do." The older man sounded exasperated. "There was a huge burst of static, electromagnetics of some sort. We got a rough fix. Do you have any idea how incredible finding working electronics would be?"

  Ebsa eyed him, looked at the predatory, sharp glances from the other scientists. Oh. No. "Why . . . I suspect it would make your reputations in the field. Papers published. Talks at the big conferences. One save me, you don't care how dangerous it is, do you?" Stubborn faces all around.

  Professor Coffee nodded. "We're not leaving until we find it."

  "Right. How far away was this rough fix?"

  "Six kilometers. Double that, driving. We drove to within a half kilometer of it. We walked around the surface. It's got to be underground." A second scientist glanced guiltily at Ogly.

  Ogly snorted. "It was a bad time for an earthquake. But I'm glad I wasn't any deeper underground."

  Ebsa contemplated the group. Looks like two Professors, a couple of Post Docs, and a pair of grad students to do the grunt work. And two guards.

  "Right. We'll see what the roaches do tonight. If it looks safe, we'll take a look at your site tomorrow. But if the bugs are bad, we are very definitely out of here tomorrow afternoon." He cleared his throat. "Umm, I'm Ebsa, this is Paer. Ogly we know . . . "

  "Professor Coffee." The older man shrugged. "They call me that because I prefer tea. Ocfe Withione Azteca if you want to be formal. This is Professor Olle Withione Tunis, Dr. Ajbo Withione Black Point, Beau, here in the field. Dr. Uflu Withione Al Cairo—call him Rich. And the graduate students, Ugg and Lovey, are gaining valuable field experience this season. Probably more valuable than they'd expected."

  Lovey rolled his eyes. "Wbvy. With a double eu. Please call me Vee. And Ugg is Ugko."

  "Pleased and all that." Ebsa eyed them. "Do any of you hunt? Have any weapons proficiencies?"

  Vee shrugged. "I shoot skeet."

  Silence and shaken heads from the rest. A disapproving glance from Professor Coffee.

  "Good. I'll get you a shotgun."

  Disapproval slid into outrage . . . and faded with a glance out the window.

  "Ebsa, why don't you move the crawler around so the doors are fairly close? It'll minimize our exposure if we have to get from one vehicle to the other." Paer turned back to the civilians. "Now, someone mentioned roach bites. Any bad enough to need treatment? They may not be poisonous, but that doesn't mean they aren't dangerous."

  There was a general shuffling forward of all six archaeologists.

  Ebsa boggled. "All of you got bitten? Must have been a real adrenaline rush, for a while there!"

  Coffee nodded. "I am really glad it happened in the daylight. At night? Honestly, I wonder if we wouldn't have been eaten alive."

  Ebsa stepped outside, looking around. Vee followed him.

  "We can just, like, close up and wait them out, right? I mean, if Rich hadn't insisted on going outside this morning, and if everyone hadn't been sick and tired of each other's company and stressed over Ogly's broken leg . . . No one would have been attacked. And Ogly wouldn't have had to crawl out and save our asses." Vee grimaced. "Wish I'd had a shotgun then."

  Ebsa tapped the 12mm.

  "I've not used a rifle much."

  "All it takes is practice. Well, a gun, ammo, rifle range, instructor . . . "

  Vee grinned and watched him open the gun safe. "No lock? . . . whoa, an Elcino twelve gauge . . . "

  Ebsa grinned and handed over shells. "Loaded for deer . . . how big, in numbers, is a giant cockroach, anyway?"

  Vee looked up from the gun he was caressing. "Oh, there were at least five species, last night. The little ones were about twenty centimeters, the big ones were almost a meter. I can't believe they can fly. Well, the biggest sort of hop with wing assistance, but a fence can't keep them out."

  Ebsa eyed him, then dug out all the twelve gauge shells he had. "So Roach skeet. But none-the-less, I think I'll try to lay some spells around, and keep you from having too much fun."

  He fabbed up more wine and got to work.

  Everybody wandered out to watch him one-by-one, as Paer patched them up. Well, except Ogly. The scientists were torn between sneering at the primitive glyphs . . . and fascinated by them. Several of them copied them, took notes about what each was supposed to do . . . Anti-chitin, magic bug repellant, and a physical shield. He wound up explaining about putting power into the spells so they'd linger for a couple of days. "We used to make a fine-screened dome over our camps to keep the bugs out, but bugs the size I've heard described would fly right through anything but a hard-held full-on physical shield. Unless you guys want to do some compass work . . . " He grinned as they recoiled. "So we'll most likely just close up for the night, and worry about the bugs in the morning, when we get to work on the tires."

  Yeahza came and blinked at him.

  "Yeahza, when was the last time you slept?"

  "Slept . . . "

  "That long, eh? Go eat something. Go to bed. I'll keep watch."

  "Oh, good idea." He staggered back around the corner toward the door.

  Ebsa finished the trailer, and feeling a bit puny, headed for the crawler and dinner, himself.

  He ate a sandwich while walking the rounds of the camp, familiarizing himself with the grounds. Silly. This isn't a war. It's just bugs. And maybe they're done swarming.

  They swarmed.

  Ebsa took a single look at the cloud of flying bugs silhouetted against the sunset and ordered everyone into trailer or crawler.

  "That's not something we can shoot our way out of. If they subside in the morning, we'll check out your site. If they don't, we'll clear them back enough to work on the tires, then get out of here."

  Beau looked over with a sneer. "Assuming you still have tires on your crawler in the morning."

  "Indeed." Ebsa looked around. "Paer, do you need Ogly in the crawler so you can keep an eye on him? Vee? The crow’s nest would make a good vantage for skeet shooting. Why don't you come with us, too?"

  Paer nodded her approval. "Good idea. Professor Olle? If you think you might need further pain suppression tonight . . . "

  Professor Coffee nodded. "That'll give us a bit more elbow room here, as well."

  Ebsa broke out the stretcher and he and Vee toted Ogly across to the crawler. Paer held a physical shield around the path, but no bugs tried to eat them. Ebsa helped shift Ogly into a bunk and took a look out the window. The bugs were staying half a meter away from the crawler.

  "Excellent." He popped up to the driving deck and turned on the comm. "Take a look out your windows. Are the roaches keeping their distance?"

  A long silence. Then Ug's voice. "Yeah. Man, I'm going to use the hell out of those glyphs of yours tomorrow!"

  "Right. Well, I'll leave the comm open all night. If there's a problem,
yell."

  Ebsa silently hoped that wouldn't be necessary. Because I have no authority, here. They've followed a few orders . . . but if they start questioning them . . . well, I'm the bloody camp cook. I think Wxxo would back me up if I said we need to leave . . .

  But just what was that "huge burst of static" anyway? Old equipment wouldn't have a power source . . . and our equipment . . . It must have lasted long enough to have been detected from two places. So either the trailer and ute both picked it up, or they were out in the ute and it lasted long enough for them to move and get a second directional reading.

  Note to self: See what instruments they have, and which of them had this "static" on them.

  He looked over his shoulder. Vee was eyeing the upper bunks, and turning away. He caught Ebsa's glance and climbed up to the driving deck. "There wasn't much to do all day except sleep." He looked apologetic. "I didn't even wake up in time to get into the betting pool for which switchback you'd get stuck on."

  Ebsa snickered. "I'm really glad we didn't have to roll those tires down the hill and through the ruins." He eyed the young man. Grad student? Can't be more than a year or two younger than me. "This static burst they detected? What was it like? Radio frequency?"

  "Umm, yeah, the burst was radio . . . but we were out trying to triangulate on a really weak magnetic anomaly that was . . . it had a pattern to it. A magnetic pulse in a simple pattern. But weak. It reminded me of the early dimensional beacons. I thought it might be from an old exploration team. Or, worst case, Earth, predating our discovery."

  Ebsa pursed his lips. "I doubt an old one could possibly still be working, and Earth's beacons are complex . . . So maybe another world? Just starting out?"

  Vee's eyes gleamed in the light from the instruments. "And that would be really interesting too."

  Ebsa leaned back, feeling the grin stretching across his face. "Indeed. So . . . the bugs are going to have to be really bad tomorrow, to keep us from checking the site out. Underground or under the rubble?"

  "Bit of both. The building mostly collapsed into itself. If it hadn't been for the earthquake It would have been safe enough."

  "Well, if you're going to stay up, I'm going to sleep. My day started really early. When you hit the rack, wake me."

  "Gotcha, Boss."

  "Three Hay Emm . . . Or is that oh three hundred for you proper Directorate guys?"

  Ebsa groaned. "It's usually known as 'Too Damned Early,' just speaking from experience. Thanks Vee. I needed that." He rolled over and peeked through the blinds . . . no bugs between them and the trailer.

  "A few have flown down and then sort of . . . mushed. They're keeping their distance, all around us."

  Ebsa rolled out of his bunk and peered out the opposite side. The ground heaved and moved, right up to half a meter from his spells. "Excellent. Now if they'll all just go away in the daylight, I'll be a happy man."

  By the time he got out of the shower and dressed, Vee was snoring in the bunk above Ogly.

  Ebsa put on a pot of coffee, and started trying to convince the fab to make a decent breakfast. Periodically checking the bugs wasn't helping his appetite, but the bugs thinned out as the sky brightened.

  He looked up chemical formulas for bug killers that were fairly harmless to humans and set the fab to producing a whole bunch of dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane powder. In fragile paper bags.

  Paer woke, and checked her slumbering patients. Kissed his cheek and headed for the bathroom.

  He set all the food well aside and loaded up for the War of the Bugs.

  "I'm almost afraid to ask."

  "Insecticide. Bug bombs. I'm going to go up to the top and start tossing them."

  He sent the anti-chitin spells ahead of himself, and cracked the hatch . . . nothing on top of it. He lowered it all the way and climbed up. His spells had kept the top fairly free of the nasties, just a few drippy remains here and there. He looked across at the trailer. The roof was crawling with bugs.

  "All right. Target acquired." He reached for the first paper sack . . . paused and pulled up a physical shield, a filter shield across his face . . . "Right."

  He threw the first bag. It hit the roof, split, bounced off the far side of the trailer, spilling white powder as it disappeared. "Well . . . " He threw the next one in a high arc. It splatted on impact, but the area covered with powder was not impressive. He checked the wind, lofted another and hit it with a slice spell as it started to fall. A cloud of fine powder fell through the air, covering half the trailer and drifting beyond.

  "Did you just slice that, like, from five meters away?"

  "Morning, Vee. Yep, but that's my limit." Ebsa eyed him. "So . . . how good are you with that shotgun?"

  Big feral grin. "Let me load some bird shot and I'll show you."

  "Deal . . . umm, tell the guys in the trailer that we're going to be doing some shooting and to not be alarmed."

  "Spoilsport." Vee ducked down while Ebsa eyed the bugs on the trailer. Much more spastic squirming. A few belly up. Excellent. Now we just need to cover a large enough area that we can work on the tires.

  The trick to bug bomb skeet was a strong throwing arm, and getting out of the way. Vee never missed a single bomb, and they coated the entire camp with powdered insecticide.

  Then Paer stepped over to the trailer to check her patients. Vee followed her, shotgun loaded. Professor Olle followed, muttering something about planning the day's activities.

  Ebsa lagged a bit, glancing at Ogly.

  "Look . . . isn't there some way to speed this all up? I hate being helpless."

  "Yeah . . . but you're stuck here, barring an emergency."

  "This is an emergency." Ogly piled up pillows and leaned back, as close to sitting as the splint would allow.

  Ebsa bit his lip . . . and stepped over to the fab and punched in the code for red wine. Stood where Ogly couldn't see what he was doing. He topped off his tube of joy juice, and dripped a bit back into the glass. "Since you're off duty. Not that you're going to get much of a buzz off a glass of wine . . ."

  Ogly sighed. "How the hell do you get a fab to make wine? I swear, you are the oddest damned Teamer, ever." He took the glass and sniffed dubiously at it.

  "How the hell can this knowledge not be part of the unofficial culture of Teamers?" Ebsa grinned. "I also know the code for really bad beer. Remind me to write them down for you."

  "Whoo! This is good stuff!"

  "Probably all the feel good pain killer spells Paer put on you. Don't try dancing around the room. It's actually barely mediocre, as wine goes."

  "Hey. Well, in that case she ought to bottle it and sell those spells."

  "I'll tell her you recommended that." Ebsa jumped down and stepped over to the trailer.

  It was full of grumbly scientists who wanted out. "You've killed them all. Why didn't we have that powder?"

  "Because no one knew they swarmed like this?"

  Paer looked around from their comm station. "I sent Ogly's scan to Dr. Atly, he was duly impressed and said there was no rush to bring him back. Wxxo was there and said since there were so many more bugs here, you and I staying for a bit was a good idea."

  "Good." Ebsa caught Yeahza's eye. "Shall we clear a space where we can work on the tires?"

  "Good plan." He fairly leapt out of the trailer.

  "Do you know how to do a push?" At his shaken head, Ebsa demonstrated. "It's just a small rectangular shield, like a bulldozer blade. You just push it ahead of you, barely off the ground."

  They shoved the dead insects out of the area between the trailer and crawler, and the ute. Swatted flying roaches that attacked them. Then rolled out the wheels and got to work.

  The three partly eaten tires removed from the wheels and replaced, then all the wheels back on the ute and the trailer.

  They had both vehicles back in working order before the sun was high enough to drive the remaining insects into cover.

  Paer marched out with a glass holding the dreg
s of wine. "Honestly, Ebsa, giving wine to an injured man! Now take this and put glyphs on all the tires and the whole ute."

  Ebsa opened his mouth to say something about Ogly not being drugged . . . shut it and got to work. His fingers tingled a little, and Paer looked really, really, good and maybe they could evict Ogly . . . Did she notice that this wasn't just any wine? Or did she think I was smart enough to only use an illegal substance in life-or-death situations?

  He used the last smears of the wine on the trailer's new tires, and rinsed the glass out.

  "So, the ute can carry eight if you're feeling really, really, friendly?" Ebsa eyed the group. "Perhaps some of us ought to stay . . . "

  A babble of indignant refusals cut him off.

  "Right. Well, can the crawler get to the site? No? Well, then . . . "

  With the back open and Ebsa, Paer, and Vee dangling feet over, it worked well enough.

  Ogly was happy to stay and watch the camp. He appeared drunk. And happy.

  "It was only one glass! Honest!" Ebsa winced away from Paer's glare. Right, I remember feeling amazing after just one drink . . . well, there were a few more sips, here and there. I wonder what the alcohol content is, or if there's something else at work?

  He braced himself as Yeahza swerved around heaps of bricks and stones, barely cleared ancient roads, eroded and collapsed here and there. Pipes collapsing underground? Or just washed out naturally? Sinkholes?

  They rarely exceeded a walking pace, but all the scuttling in the foliage was scuttling away, not toward them.

  Ebsa rocked as the ute stopped abruptly.

  "Look at the size of that thing!" Yeahza sounded appalled.

  Ebsa craned his neck but couldn't see past the others' heads. Something greenish . . .

  "Bufo Alvarius!" Professor Coffee yelped.

  They flinched and ducked as one. A shadow overhead . . . the frog touched down, turned enough to cock an eye at them, turned more, mouth gaping . . .