Project Dystopia (The Directorate Book 8)

by Pam Uphoff

  "We're just doing basics, for the kids." Ebsa shrugged. "The Warrior thing is mostly a matter of Speed. I'm just barely a black belt."

  Paer grinned. "He thinks he doesn't need technique when he’s so fast. Umm, we could run some advanced magic practice if anyone is interested. In, oh, an hour."

  With just a few day's practice, Zhodan collected power easily, and held his spherical shield strongly. Only got rolled once. Unfortunately he thought it was funny, and rolled around, not quite randomly, like a boy in an oversized hamster-ball.

  And the boy was getting good at extending his shield into a slice, a thin sheet of force that could cut nearly anything. He already had a reach of a meter.

  Ebsa worried, not about how dangerous he was, but by the grimly determined way he worked at it . . . Is he trying to never again lose family to things like those ants? But while they both look a little lost sometimes, I haven't seen anything like grief.

  And their ears . . . why do I keep thinking about kidnapped and ransomed children, and body parts sent to horrified parents?

  I'm not at all sure that Zhodan is thinking about giant ants when he practices.

  And I wonder if someone is looking for them.

  And whether that person is friend or foe.

  ***

  ". . . So, when you're not actively heroing, you write reports?"

  Ebsa snickered and saved his work. "At the moment I'm trying to put together a series of short vids to show what we were doing and where we found the kids. And especially showing that we didn't have anything to do with either their being in the museum, or the other people being killed by the ants."

  Yeahza scrunched up his nose. "Huh?"

  Vee bit his lip. "Do you think more elves will come here? To the museum . . . or to the old beacon?"

  "I'm betting on the beacon. And I'd like to start relations with a dimensionally traveling Elf Civilization on a peaceful note." Ebsa tapped the comp. "Hence the show. We rescued two kids in danger. Period."

  Yeahza shook his head. "Thinking ahead. That's supposed to be a good quality in a leader. Thank the One I don't do foolish things like that."

  Ebsa grinned. "And of course I'm writing up reports. Mostly briefs, with appendixes that will be the scientists' reports on various things."

  "Yow. Why?"

  "Because I can do it in air conditioned comfort, and then when we get home I can dump it all in Subdirector Ebko's lap and run off for some home leave."

  Vee grinned. "Dang. I was hoping if I switched from research to Team, I'd never have to write another report."

  "I thought you were an archaeologist?" Ebsa stretched and grabbed drinks from the fridge. "Did you go to the Directorate School?"

  "No." Deep flush. "University of Good Hope."

  Ah. Draken Clan. Worse than being a bastard Upcomer.

  "So you were right on the doorstep of the great anthropological discoveries."

  "Yeah. I did stoop labor for some of them, while I was working on my degree. And, well, after I graduated, I applied to the Directorate, and next thing you know, I'm doing stoop labor here." He grinned. "But I think I may try for Teams, now."

  Ebsa shook his head. "You'd probably get bored and frustrated, just watching the scientists, and not even doing stoop labor to help with the discoveries."

  ***

  The daily magical practice was one of the nicer points of the daily routine they were starting to fall into. All the younger people, and a few of the older joined them.

  With the light mental contact, even not trying, Ebsa was picking up Elf language, and he noted Zhodan using English words Ebsa hadn't taught him, with increasingly complex grammar. Good. It will help them fit in . . . or better yet, give both sides a boost in communications. I just hope whoever comes is someone the kids want to find them.

  Martial arts was also well attended. Ebsa was shocked at how many of the scientists had Speed. I guess I assumed that the Directorate attracted most of the people with magically enhanced physical abilities.

  He ran a second round of classes for the advanced students. Both magic and karate. Zhodan watched intently. And tried harder in the beginner classes.

  ***

  ". . . old Fahrenheit scale it sounds even worse. Forty degrees is a hundred and four degrees Fahrenheit."

  Ebsa looked over . . . ah. His three gardeners talking about the weather as only scientists, historians, or, in this case, archaeologists could.

  "Ridiculous. Who would pick thirty-two degrees as the freezing point of water?" the tall thin one sniffed.

  Paer paused as she passed their table. "Comet Fall still uses it. I heard the Exiles were from an odd place, with tons of technical discoveries but mired in a culture that clung to old measuring systems."

  "So we've heard. But really!" Tall thin sniffed again.

  I really do need to find out what their names are . . .

  "What would fifty degrees be, then?" Little Pink was frowning.

  "Umm, times nine . . . divide by five . . . and add thirty two. A hundred and twenty-two." Short and stout fanned herself. "It can't possibly get that hot."

  Ebsa felt like fanning himself, too. He looked over and caught Wxxo's eye. "We may need to move the dining room inside."

  Wxxo pointed at the office behind him. "I'm ahead of you for once. We're moving Dr. Illo out and removing the interior walls. Not sure what we can do about your kitchen though."

  "So long as it doesn't get too much hotter out, I'll keep working out here. May need a tarp for shade."

  Fortunately they had a large supply of tarps.

  Once all the spiders and roaches were evicted, Ocho's crew put up pipes and strung the tarps in long slanted strips above the whole cluster of buildings. The shade was welcome, and reduced the strain on the air conditioners. Ebsa kept pots of coffee, cold drinks and snack available in the dining room, and Wxxo encouraged breaks and socializing among the scientists, crew, and teams.

  There were rather subdued discussions about how long they'd keep pretending they were a science project and get seriously into survival mode. And the wisdom, or lack thereof, of climbing into a bubble for months at a time.

  Only the astronomer was getting much accomplished. He found his filtered pictures of the sun in daily demand. Everyone speculated about the climatic effects as they eyed pictures of the large sunspots, the sprawling sunspot groups, huge prominences, spectacular arcs, and giant coronal mass ejections.

  Ebsa exchanged glances with Wxxo, and Paer's hand found his under the table. "If this is a regular cycle, it may behoove us to bubble up for a few years and see if it dies down. Not that I think we'll be lost for very long. And I'd really hate to miss the rescuers when they show up, you know?"

  Paer bit her lip. "We could bubble everything but the crawler, and rotate who keeps watch. At least through the summer. Surely it'll cool down in the fall."

  Ocho nodded. "I could build a large concrete shelter at the gate site. Something you could back the crawler into and have some serious protection from the sun, while watching for a gate."

  As the snow disappeared from the mountain peaks, the water level started dropping. And the temperatures kept climbing, not cooling until the early morning hours.

  No rats. Even the insects seemed to have retreated, possibly following the water back down underground.

  Chapter Fourteen

  19 Yusef 1408

  Main Camp, World X 22845

  Static flooded the comms. Ebsa dropped his spatula, flipped all switches off and threw off his apron as he bolted down the line of buildings.

  Everyone was coming out, hot or not . . . Wxxo's ute swung around the track and jolted to a stop. Ebsa trotted up beside him.

  Wxxo's hands were tense on the steering wheel. "They're here, not at the gate area. They must have homed in on the beacon."

  Ebsa studied the people at the mess slab. Short people in unfamiliar clothing. Armed, in a disciplined array.

  :: Paer! I think the Elves have arrived. Do o
ne last ear job on the kids if they need it, and then try to get them a glimpse of these guys without being seen themselves. ::

  :: Oh. In case these are the Bad Elves. ::

  Ebsa looked around. "Vee? Give me that shotgun and go get my comp. It’s show time."

  "There's only one shell!"

  "I know. It's mostly symbolic. Wxxo? Will you let me handle this?"

  "With pleasure. Mind you keep your shields handy."

  Ebsa nodded and walked forward. He held the shotgun low, pointed down and away from the Elves.

  A dozen of them. Heavily armed, half focused on him and half scanning for threats. The man in front, with an elaborately embroidered tunic, had a sword at his side, and some sort of long gun in hand.

  A third of the way there, Ebsa stopped and placed the shotgun on the ground. Stepped away from it.

  See? I'm a fighter, a warrior, but I'm not threatening you.

  The Elf in the fancy suit looked him over, and handed his weapon to one of the others. Kept the sword.

  Ceremonial? A sign of rank?

  "Ebsa?" Vee sounded worried. "I've got your computer."

  "Hold it out in plain sight and bring it to me." And hope they don't have a weapon that shape.

  He half-turned and took the comp. Vee retreated.

  Ebsa stayed turned away a bit while he turned on all recording functions, then called up his rough vid series. Maxed the size of the holoscreen then turned and walked closer to where the Elf had stopped. Bowed his head infinitesimally to the head Elf as he started the vid. He set the comp down and retreated a few steps.

  The lead Elf stepped forward.

  The Last Try

  The techs dialed up the power and the rings spun. Opening this time onto bright light and heat.

  "Can this be the same place?"

  "Yes, sir. The generator of the pulse we aimed for seems to have been moved outside."

  "Hmm." Ngratei contemplated the ruins on the far side. Then stepped through, his guards on his heels.

  The heat was his first impression, the disaster his second. Something had burned recently, and the ruined equipment scattered about brought an explosion to mind. But further out, the ruins were obviously much older and weather worn. And extensive. Newer buildings, an orderly array of ugly rectangles, a short distance away, people staring.

  A vehicle moved into sight, stopped when the driver spotted him. A man got out, massive and tall. A taller man strode up to him, broad shouldered, narrow waisted.

  The Warlord stared. No ear points.

  "Criminals, or slaves." War Chief Jklep growled behind him.

  Ngratei hesitated, watching the taller man take a weapon and send a minion off at a trot. The tall man paced forward alone.

  "Neither criminal nor slave. They aren't even Elves."

  One of the techs edged out for a good look. "There are rumors of non-elf races on other worlds. They must be right. Goddess, it's huge. And the ears are just creepy."

  "Less than half again our height. Not . . . that big. Doesn't look clumsy."

  "Armed." A growl from Jklep.

  But even as he spoke the creature stopped and set his weapon aside. Stepped forward. Hands empty, studying them.

  The rest of the things had stayed back, but now one trotted out, some equipment in its hands.

  "Stand down. I don't think that is a weapon."

  The tall one half turned and took the book sized packet and dismissed the minion. He opened it and tapped at keys. The warlord signaled his guards to stay and walked toward the . . . person.

  The huge Not-elf moved closer, then set his equipment on the ground and stepped away.

  An image formed above the machine. A picture, a recording of a group of the Not-elves observing two lines of large ants. The ants were streaming past each other, taking food to their nest, no doubt. Then the recording showed the tall one stepping carefully up to the ants—Goddess! The size of the ants!—and affixing some things to their backs. Cameras, apparently, as the image jumped to a view from ant height, of crawling up to a crack and down into darkness.

  Into a cavern dimly lit by the sun though irregular gaps in the domed roof . . . and illuminating the food they were cutting up to take home.

  Well, I know where this was, don't I? Our prisoners told us all about it.

  His fists clenched and he forced himself to watch. To look for something that would identify his children.

  I have to know.

  And then ants swarming something, a sphere they couldn't pierce . . . a shield.

  He nearly cried out as the vid switched to two of the creatures climbing down a different hole, around debris and working through collapsed layers of ancient buildings. Hustling through a building. Stopping to examine the beacon that had brought the dooro shat to that hideous cavern. One creature went on.

  And saw the spherical shield.

  Threw a powder that had the ants backing away.

  Ngratei was blinking back tears, hands fisted to stop them from shaking as he watched the shield collapse, revealing his children. Exhausted, bloodied, ear clipped . . . Zhodan stood bravely, facing his monstrous rescuer.

  "Dad!"

  Ngratei's head jerked up away from the picture to see Zhodan racing across the gravel.

  A smaller form behind him. "Dad, Dad, Da!"

  He fell to his knees and swept the boy up in a hug, freed one arm long enough to pull Ngorei in too. For one long moment of indulgence.

  "Someone grabbed me and put something over my face and I went to sleep, and when I woke up . . . this elf got a big knife." Ngorei's voice wavered, and her hand went to her ear. "But Magician Paer fixed it."

  Ngratei blinked away tears and looked. New pink skin on a graceful point. Zhodan nodded and touched his own.

  "Warlord Ebsa saved us from the ants and brought us here. Magician Paer healed our ears. They are both very magical. Paer can fight too, even though she is female. They are very strange people."

  Ngratei straightened and looked at the tall one, a shorter one—still taller than the tallest Elf—and undeniably female had walked up to stand by him.

  "I don't think they are married yet, but they are in love." Ngorei let go of him as he rose to his feet.

  Zhodan looked worriedly at him. "They had nothing to do with the kidnapping."

  "Have they treated you like slaves?"

  "No, sir. They treated us like children, like children they would adopt. Ebsa showed us things about power collection, and how to use magic as a weapon." Zhodan grinned. "Ngorei has grasped the magic. She will be the mother of your heir."

  Ngratei swallowed. What debt do I owe this strange creature, these two creatures. How do I redeem my honor?

  "The gate is weakening, we need to go!" The techs scrambled away to help hold it. But the energy it took was most likely the problem.

  The creatures were looking at the gate too.

  Zhodan said something in a weird croaking voice. The creatures nodded.

  The tall one met Ngratei's gaze. It spoke, hideously accented. "My honor to know children so fine."

  The female was crying, but also smiling.

  Ngratei scooped up his daughter and strode, side-by-side with his son, back through the gate. The guards followed, and Ngratei ordered the techs to close the gate.

  "Let's go find your mother."

  Chapter Fifteen

  19 Yusef 1408

  Main Camp, World X 22845

  Ebsa was hard put not to cry himself as they walked silently back to the others.

  He tried for lightness, though. "Well, there's a proper, friendly, First Contact."

  Wxxo clouted his shoulder. "Yeah, well, I'm going to miss those little squeakers. It was kinda fun having some kids underfoot."

  "Yeah." Ebsa glanced up at the hot sun. "Although I'm not sorry to have them out of this mess."

  "Ocho tells me that the water table is falling. Uhci says the sun shows no signs of peaking. I'm going to suggest that most of us 'bubble up' as yo
u call it. So if we really are stuck here, we have supplies to get us through the start of . . . colonization."

  Ebsa nodded. "I think that's wise."

  Iqgu walked up in time to hear that. "We need to keep a constant watch for as long as we can. Any rescue is likely to be soon . . . and then shift to standard marooning protocols . . . searching on the solstices."

  Ebsa nodded. "I'll talk to Ocho . . . I've never done such a thing, but I understand that the bubbles can hold a whole lot. In theory we can bubble the whole slab and all the buildings."

  "Huh. Well, that'll make it all the more pleasant inside."

  "Yeah. We'll keep the crawler out. Leave twelve meters of the central road empty, and if it gets too hot we'll back the crawler in and close the bubble for, umm, twenty minutes on the inside would get us into fall, on the outside."

  Wxxo nodded. "I wonder if Ocho can move the water tank onto the slab. The fab needs a whole lot of water. You'll need water too, on the crawler. I'll talk to him."

  Iqgu and Ebsa eyed each other.

  Ebsa shrugged. "I'll stick it out until it gets so hot I worry about the crawler's tires melting. If it gets hot enough to be seriously debilitating, we can switch out."

  Wxxo's proposition didn't sit well with the scientists.

  "But they will come looking for us! We are a large project with over a hundred people here!" Itchy crossed his arms stubbornly.

  "The President's daughter is here. They have to be searching for us." Uhci glanced at the Sun. "And I still have data to collect."

  "Automate it. Dr. Itchy, the gate went down over a month ago. They haven't found us yet. Hopefully they will, but in the mean time, we need to save the supplies we have for . . . possibly after the sunspot cycle has peaked and the temperatures have dropped. Some time that we will be able to live here."