Project Dystopia (The Directorate Book 8)

by Pam Uphoff

  "Paer? Do you have a bubble with you? We can bubble the worst injured and . . . "

  Her face lit. "And bring them out when we can get to a hospital." She turned and bolted for the crawler.

  Ebsa waved to Ogly, up on top with gun in hand, and followed Paer. She had a metal rod, 20 centimeters long in hand.

  "Yours is a standard handle . . . why don't we use my spoons for this?" He grabbed them and started pulling everything out. "Then if we end up bubbling everything, your more recognizable handles will be there, for someone from Disco to spot."

  "Oh, good plan." Paer dropped hers back in her footlocker.

  Ebsa pulled out the Eden beacon and eyed it thoughtfully. "This may prove useful. I'll set it up tomorrow."

  "In case the gate authority can detect it?"

  "Or the Elves, so the kids can at least get back home."

  Paer stepped up on his bunk to peer at the pair. "They must be exhausted."

  "Yes, and just as well, we need to do so much so fast . . . so, let's ask in building four who wants to be bubbled, and move them to three. We'll bubble the whole building."

  Paer jumped out the door and they trotted down past the crowd.

  Ebsa braced himself and stepped into the Aid Station.

  Dr. Atly was head down at the desk, but raised his head and blinked at him.

  "I have a dimensional bag. I was talking to Wxxo. We can put the critically injured into it, where they will experience very little time until we can get them across and into trauma hospitals."

  "But . . . aren't there ambulances on the way? What is taking so long?"

  "The gate is gone. We're marooned, hopefully not for long."

  "Mah . . . What? How? Why did they . . . oh, those rats must have . . . the Army should have been able to deal with them." He scrubbed his face. "Well. Right. There are six people here I want to bubble, and most of the burn victims."

  Building three was stuffed by the time Paer and Ebsa worked the bubble around the whole building, closing the handles at the door of the building, for easy access.

  Chief Ocho eyed the valve on the water pipe he'd hastily sheared off. "Disappearing buildings. Giant rats. What next?"

  The crowd had broken up, but re-coalesced to watch the building disappear.

  Ebsa stepped up beside Wxxo, and raised his voice. "We have another bubble. If necessary, we will bubble most of you, and just keep a rotating watch out here, waiting for rescue."

  Wxxo raised his voice. "So while the situation is calm, please, get some sleep. We'll see how the situation evolves over the next few days . . . and nights."

  The crowd stirred. And finally dispersed to their beds.

  The few left exchanged glances. Ebsa held out the spoons. "Dr. Atly? Your office?"

  The man shook his head. "I won't open them for . . . until we're rescued. Wxxo? Stick them in your office." The man staggered off, hopefully to sleep.

  Wxxo sighed and took the spoons. "Well. That's thirty-two people I can stop worrying about." He winced. "Thirteen fatalities. So . . . eighty of us, give or take a couple of Elf children. Ocho, Iqgu, Ebsa? You three work out a watch schedule, and at first light, an assessment of power, water, and food. Iqgu?"

  The Action Leader shrugged. "The few surviving rats dragged a couple of the dead ones away, presumably to eat them. We've spotted roaches, but that powder seems to have taken care of the worst of that problem. If we . . . when we run out of ammo, we're going to be in trouble. I've got six men on watch, I'll swap them out as soon as the relief has had a couple of hours to sleep . . . and eat?"

  Ebsa intercepted that glance. "Send them to the crawler. I'll just keep making crap sandwiches until I run out of fab base. Then if I can't salvage refills from the wreckage . . . well . . . we'll find out if rat is edible."

  Back at the crawler, Ebsa found the kids stirring.

  The girl reached for him, and he pulled her out of bed. "Hey, Squeaker. You're safe."

  Paer snorted softly. "The way she's standing, I think we need to show her how the bathroom works."

  Ebsa steered her that direction and she headed for the toilet as if it was familiar enough. She glanced at him, and he stepped out. Modesty for some things, eh? The boy climbed down yawning and took his turn.

  Booster and meat cubes and back to bed, although they sort of tried to sit up and pay attention.

  Ebsa pulled out the tubs they used for brining some of the tough meat they'd eaten on other worlds. "Well. I think I'd better start experimenting before those dead rats become completely inedible."

  "Umm. It's been . . . well, close to five hours for some of them."

  "Yeah. We'll have to drag the carcasses away, tomorrow. I'll be right back."

  Of course Paer came along, gun in hand, but Ebsa harvested twenty kilos of meat and covered it in brine, just on the expectation of gaminess.

  "I'll give it thirty-six hours, then see what I've got." He added ice to all three tubs and covered them. Stacked them out of the way.

  Sicced the fabber on sandwiches for guards both coming and going, set out a bowl of snacks, and contemplated the problems with fixing breakfast for eighty in a kitchen designed for a crew of eight.

  "I hope to hell the big stove is in working condition." Ebsa eyed cupboards and shook his head. "And I really don't want to use up fab base making disposable plates. Scrambled eggs and sausage in tortillas. Then I'll go see what I've got to work with."

  Battered everything. Squeaker looked around, wide-eyed, at the mess, and clung. The boy poked around a bit, keeping an eye on the rat carcasses. Everything in the middle was totaled. But out in the kitchen corner, even though everything was tumbled, the damage looked superficial.

  The fab refills had been behind everything else, and he heaved a sigh of relief. Then there was the stove and oven . . .

  The boy had a good eye for what was damaged beyond repair, and what was just sooty, and started stacking cans.

  I need to find the time to talk to them. Exchange names, try to learn at least a bit of their language.

  Ebsa looked around as Ocho stepped onto the slab and looked around.

  "Fuel air explosions don't generally have a lot of shrapnel. They're more pure percussion. A bit of flame, but the fuel burns up quickly. Mind you the tent was pretty spectacular, started a couple dozen fires. So, it's going to be a bit before I get your electricity back on. I capped the water pipes, to keep pressure in the rest of the system." Ocho looked over his piled loot. "Four fab refills, and an oven that might work?"

  "Yep. And I think the one fab might still work, too. The vat . . . I'll have to see if I can salvage any of the cultures, sanitize the whole thing and start from scratch. I think we ought to move it all to the empty spot on the other slab, so no one has to go far afield for food." Ebsa pried open a cabinet and winced at the smashed crockery. Started picking through for plates and bowls that were still serviceable. Squeaker perked up and helped.

  "Good idea. I'll send a flat and a couple of lads to move you." Ocho stepped aside to stomp a roach that was still twitching. "As soon as we've got all the rat carcasses out of here and well away from the camp."

  A Warlord's Domain

  Ngratei turned his back on the view, looking out over the island. My island. Chosen because it was so remote that few would see, and try to interfere with the scientists who flocked around me. I could see the promise in the dimensional portals. It was not given to me to be a brilliant scientist. I was always the warrior. But I nurtured the sciences, included them in my plans, when the Emperor granted me this island.

  He left the room, highest point of a modest "castle." He trotted down the stairs and out the side door.

  I had already chosen this island to develop, gathered people eager for land of their own. Scientists wanting to run their own experiments, not labor under others. And many of them had relatives who were laborers and farmers, willing to come here and own their own land. We are a financial success. An exporter for food, even though I have to cover
the cost of transportation myself. We supported the Emperor when he was challenged.

  He walked out the side door and strode across the outsized courtyard. Large enough for expansion, as my fortunes grew. Was I too successful? Did others envy me, and seek to ruin my life? Is there some profit I am endangering?

  The labs were housed in a collection of buildings, also spaced for future expansion.

  He slipped in quietly, not disturbing the work in progress.

  " . . . magnetic detectors, so there must be some beacon on the far side. We shouldn't have any trouble finding that world."

  He couldn't make out the mumbled response. The speaker was head first into a tunnel full of wiring.

  "Oh, I don't really believe those old stories about hideous giants. Metaphorical giants of invention, more like, before the Great War . . . ah! That's got it. Now if we can synchronize both sides . . . "

  The warlord withdrew as quietly as he had come.

  Chapter Twelve

  22 Jumada 1408

  Main Camp, World X 22845

  The clouds of insects rose just before sunset.

  The last diners wolfed their last bites and headed inside. Ebsa locked down and closed everything possible, and folded up the sheets he'd deployed to shade the kitchen and small dining area. The boy helped; Squeaker had trotted off with Paer when she went to check her patients. All ambulatory, and most of them healing incredibly quickly.

  He'd fabbed up wine—and not doped it—for dinner, by way of fueling the healing nanos already at work in the people who'd opted for the Joy Juice. By tomorrow Paer and Dr. Atly should be down to five patients.

  The boy untied the last sheet from the roof of the Aid Station, and hung down until he could get a foot on Ebsa's hand, then let go.

  "Trusting little bugger, aren't you? Let's get out of here." Ebsa set him down and roughly folded the sheet. Batted the incoming bugs away with a thin shield and trotted for the crawler. Locusts? Cicadas? Something common locally and rare enough elsewhere that I don't know what it is? Other than fifteen centimeters of ugly. With luck the dichlor will kill them all and we'll just sweep up in the morning.

  He shook out his stack of sheets before boarding and sighed in relief as he closed the door.

  "Day one survived." No other adults around so he slid an arm around Paer and kissed her. "Alone at last, with the children. Speaking of which . . . " He looked down at the boy and tapped his chest. "Ebsa." Pointed. "Paer." He pointed at the boy.

  Who grinned. "Zhodan." High pitched, but a recognizable word. He pointed at Squeaker. "Ngorei."

  "Zodan?"

  Pressed lips. Disagreement. "Zh oh dan."

  I wonder if he can hear all of my speech range?

  Ebsa reached for the high tone. "Zhodan."

  Brilliant smiles, from both kids.

  Squeaker bounced on the bed in excitement. Some of the squeaks might have been Ngorei, if one considered that it was about half out of human hearing range.

  Paer giggled. "Ngorei!" in a high squeaky voice.

  All of which led to a two way language exchange, naming everything in the crawler, until they all climbed into their gitio and went joost.

  At oh-four hundred the guards spotted a rat.

  Ebsa slipped on his boots—having slept fully dressed—grabbed two guns and . . . all the ammo he had left. Extra shotgun shells for Vee, who'd kept the gun.

  Dead bugs of all sizes crunched underfoot as he trotted down the street to the southeast corner.

  Iqgu looked around and nodded. "They're out there, eating the dead ones, where we dumped them. We'll leave them to it. Save our ammunition for when they come into camp."

  Ebsa nodded. "I've got eighteen rounds for the 20mm. Out of 12mm. About three hundred rounds of 10mm. Several hundred shotgun shells, all birdshot."

  "If they don't open a gate fast, we're screwed."

  Ebsa looked out toward the barely seen movement in the predawn and nodded. One more rat mobbing and we'll be down to clubs and magic.

  He swept out the kitchen area with a lightweight bulldozer spell and started breakfast.

  Pastries, as much to test the oven as because it made little mess to clean up later. He'd salvaged enough plates that he only had to wash the first twenty or so to get through the whole crew, Ngorei and Zhodan included. The elf children drew a lot of attention, which sent Ngorei back to clinging to Paer, and Zhodan maneuvering into Ebsa's vicinity, while looking aloof and unafraid.

  Paer transplanted Ngorei into Ebsa’s arms. "I've got to get to work. And probably take the night shift tonight."

  "No problem, the kids can help me today."

  For some values of "help."

  He toted the old beacon down to the mess tent's slab and set it up. Dusted off the square solar cells on top and oriented it so there'd be sun on the cells all day long.

  Coffee and Ollie had spotted him and followed.

  "What are you trying to do?"

  "Well, it was working well enough on what little light it was getting through the holes in the cavern roof for you to detect it. Fully powered, it may be strong enough for the Gate operators to detect it." Ebsa glanced at the kids. "I think those bursts of static we detected might have been powered gates operating."

  "Oh." Coffee blinked in thought. "I thought this might be an Elf World. My newest theory was that the cataclysm was a war between the native elves and the colonizing humans."

  Professor Olle paced around the beacon. "But if they detected this thing's weak signal and opened a gate to it, that would explain why the only trace of elves we've found was the single group down in the cavern."

  "I didn't study the elves in college." Ebsa watched the kids poking at the nearest dead fabricator's guts. "But even so, I think I'd have heard if any with dimension travelling abilities had been discovered."

  Two bright grins from the scholars. "Yes."

  "Not Archeology." Coffee continued. "But still a ground breaking discovery. And the tools we have for studying ancient civilizations are much the same used for a very different civilization. Plus we can ask questions."

  Olle winced at a high shriek from Ngorei. "Once we learn the language."

  Ebsa nodded. "I hope the adult's range is a bit deeper than the kids, otherwise we'll have to work out a frequency shifting apparatus so we catch everything they say."

  Ebsa stepped over to remove a splinter from the girl's hand and waft a healing spell over it.

  Zhodan watched, and gabbled at him. Shut up and stared demandingly at him.

  "Umm, are you wondering what I did?" Ebsa eyed the boy. "You held a damned hard shield for hours. Maybe days, for all I know."

  He swept a wider area clear of bugs and sat down cross-legged. Hands palm up on his knees and took down a couple of layers of his habitual shields.

  The boy hesitated a moment, then sat as well. Ngorei bounced over and plunked herself down, bright eyed and eager.

  He cupped his hands, capturing the power, the energy of the heat. He could have, if he'd wanted, measured and chosen what frequencies he reaped. But he just felt instead, and pulled his hands together, compressing the power into a glowing ball. Then he leaned forward and released the energy into the cement slab.

  Zhodan stared at his own hands, lying in the sunlight.

  Ebsa put his hands back on his knees. Made a show of cupping them.

  Zhodan curled his fingers, cupping light.

  Ebsa brought his hands together, concentrating the power.

  The boy echoed his moves, the light brightening between his hands.

  I do believe he's using a different frequency range. Ebsa suppressed a smile as the boy spread his hands, both palms glowing. Shook them and failed to dislodge any power.

  Ebsa again flattened his hands on the concrete and let the power seep away. Zhodan did the same, and huffed out a breath of relief as the power soaked away.

  Ngorei giggled, and tried strangling down light herself. A few little sparks of light danced between her pal
ms. She gave a high pitched "Eep!" of surprise, and shook her hands. The sparks drifted off and faded.

  Then she and Zhodan started squeaking away, jumping up and running around and hugging.

  "What's that all about?" Coffee watched the kids, an annoyed scowl on his face.

  Ebsa grinned. "I think that might have been her first show of power. Obviously just as big a deal as it is for us."

  The girl sobered suddenly, put her hand to her injured ear and burst into tears. She staggered over to Ebsa and clung and sobbed.

  Ebsa looked from the girl to the boy. He was biting his lip. His hand rose toward his ear . . . then dropped. He braced his shoulders and raised his chin.

  "I mislike the matching ear bobs. I don't know what it means to them . . . or if it was done deliberately, for some purpose."

  Olle frowned. "Could just be a coincidence. If I were a little girl, I'd cry over a disfiguring scar too."

  Ebsa eyed both kids. "C'mon. Let's go talk to Paer about this."

  Paer blinked at her new patients.

  "They're upset about their ears. Can you do that micro telekinesis thing and fix them?" Ebsa set Ngorei down on the examination table. "Get them nice and pointy?"

  "Umm, we'd need more cartilage . . . or to thin what's left. They lost about three centimeters and the forward ridge needs to be thick enough to be stiff." She got absentminded for a moment, stroking the girl's ear. Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "I'll need to get the chondrocytes to multiply and shift them to the cut edge, and then form the extracellular matrix . . . Get the skin cells dividing, too . . . "

  She dropped her hands, and turned to Zhodan. He froze, looking a bit spooked as she rubbed his injured ear.

  She straightened and smiled. "I'll do just a bit every day, get it right. Everyone else is doing well, as well. And the only hugging and kissing I've spotted was between married couples. So the Joy Juice hasn't created a mass orgy or rape epidemic."

  "Good. Good. I didn't actually think about what it might do to an Action Teamer who'd retained those genes."