Outcasts and Gods

by Pam Uphoff

  "It's an exercise in speed. One man leaps through, snatches whatever is in reach, and jumps back. We've practiced. It shouldn't take more than fifteen seconds."

  Emre One, all bright eyes and beaming grin, was ready to go.

  They'd tossed rabbits through, and they'd hopped off. The dog on the leash hadn't worked as well, fortunately the tech holding the leash had had sense enough to let go rather than be dragged through. The dog had wagged his tail and sniffed around, but obeyed the hand signal to come. He was still fine, a week later.

  Deiter Sloan, the trainer for the Orange team, and somehow genuinely liked by his kids, was chewing his fingernails whenever he was out of Emre's sight. Around Emre he was confident and calm.

  Harry resisted an urge to pace. The tech nodded that the rings were up to speed. Harry stuck his head in the power room. Got a thumbs up.

  "All right, team. Go ahead when ready." He tried to avoid blunt orders, or wording that made him a part of the team. And he certainly didn't call them girls. They told him what they didn't like, and had ways of subtly creating fiascos that looked like his fault if he repeated the error. AK, Mercy, and Rebeccah were still the best. They held hands in a triangle. Six other women, two other triangles, were assisting. The trios were all equal distances apart in a greater triangle—he'd heard them calling it a pyramid. The two extra trios helped them hold the gate longer.

  The power gauge ramped up smoothly, the ring's whine tuned.

  Harry stepped to where he could see Emre and the monitor. Foggy white circle, dot opening rapidly. Grass, trees. Emre leaping through. The young man leaped and snatched tree leaves, landed and yanked a turf of grass, grabbed something, leaped back. He landed in the isolation chamber and the door slid closed. He grinned triumphantly, raising his hand. "I got a lizard!"

  Gisele was grinning too. "Hang onto it while we get you over to the biology building."

  The plex container was wheeled rapidly out.

  Harry had been subliminally aware of the ring whine returning, the monitor showing all white. Now he stepped back to the trio of trios.

  "Done. Emre's back and safe."

  AK relaxed and Mercy sagged. The power levels dropped; Rebeccah was an expert at controlling them, bringing them down gently. The mag techs really liked working with her.

  The other six dropped their hands, stretched and starting chatting.

  Rebeccah finally relaxed and opened her eyes. She looked tired, but tried to hide it, unlike Mercy who was trying to make points on her obvious exhaustion.

  Harry fetched drinks, looking over his shoulder at the managers.

  "Get their blood sugar back up, then off for dinner. We'll run another gate tomorrow morning, and as often after as we can."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Paris

  France, European Union

  1 March 2115

  "Ah, Paris. Paris in the almost Spring." Wolfgang looked around with delight. As a supposed tourist his hair was longer than usual, his clothes unexceptional. His French, accented, but fluent.

  The techie he was escorting was tall and willowy. And unfortunately unmistakably middle aged. "Let's see the Eiffel tower first."

  "Yes, Mother." He kept his tone at mildly exasperated, and harvested a sympathetic wink from the luggage handler.

  Wolfgang dispensed tips and found the car rental booth. He tried to charm the young lady there, but she was completely indifferent.

  Mrs. Cassidy was amused. "Son, this is Paris, she gets a hundred flirts a day, minimum. You're not different enough."

  "Or early enough in the day." Which actually got him a glance and repressed smile from the clerk.

  The economy electric car was as exciting to drive as a golf cart. In fact there was a distinct resemblance. But it got them to their hotel, where they left it to be charged, and they walked out in the soft air and admired the old city. A dozen other teams were trying to trace the old nuke, and if they located it, Mrs. Cassidy would be the one to examine it, to make sure it was safe to move. Paris was not the target, it was a waypoint. A handy place for the hand off after the sale. Like so many things Russian, this warhead had none of the elegance and minimalist design of an American weapon. The big ugly brute had been built in the middle of the 'Cold War' as a warning of how hard ball the Soviets were prepared to play.

  Now in the wrong hands, refurbished, with all new computer controls and codes, it was apparently destined for even worse hands. The rumor mill said the Quetzals had bought it. Speculation had it going to either Bogota or SoCal Metro. If the radical old line South and Central American communists got it, probably Bogota. If the dissidents who'd converted to Islam got it, they'd target SoCal.

  And I know how poorly those container ships are checked. A bomb this size, they just need to be "close", as in five miles of any specific target. The President of North America will be displeased if he can't make the Port of Angels dedication. Which is definitely within five miles of the open ocean, exposed.

  Wolfgang and Mrs. Cassidy did all the touristy things, the Louvre, the cruise on the Seine, the catacombs. They tagged along loosely as the rest of the squad quartered their assigned part of the City with the rad meters. Nothing.

  The fourth team struck lucky and they all scrambled to pin down the exact location.

  It was an old part of Paris. One of the outlying suburbs that had started as housing for temporary migrant workers, became an immigrant family public housing ghetto, half burned in the riots forty years ago, when the Islamic population became the majority population and attempted to take over.

  Most recently the area had been taken over by the elderly. The shadows of the plague lay over the southern half, the flu variant that had hit the Middle Eastern population so nearly exclusively. That was still blamed on the Jews and Americans. The man who had set off the radiation meters had driven a car registered to an address in the worst part of the area. The part that still held the bitter survivors of the Paris genocide.

  They went in after dark. Mrs. Cassidy stayed with a van full of her equipment, and Wolfgang rejoined his team.

  First and Second teams leap frogged between buildings, and checked their geiger counters. Third and Fourth teams paralleled them on the next row of rundown apartment buildings.

  Wolf found his internal sight to be more useful than the night goggles, standing quietly outside the doors to yet another stack of fetid trash strewn apartments.

  "Looks like three concentrations of people." He subvocalized. "Second floor, back left. Third floor, both front apartments. Two people in the basement, middle of the left side."

  Captain Mauser just sighed. He'd given up on getting Wolf to stop the body counts in each building. In theory, the thermal detection systems could give accurate counts. In fact, a large number of rooms had been lined with metal mesh, with random heat producing equipment, with anything and everything that might confuse the infidel attackers. The sound localization system was the most reliable and had the lowest resolution.

  They were well south and into the worst parts of the slum when he started feeling the heavy concentration of mass he'd previously felt around depleted Uranium weapons.

  And it felt far enough away to be a large amount. He stuck his head out and took a good look that direction. There were a lot of buildings in between.

  Sergeant Hays shot a thoughtful look his direction, then scanned around the neglected landscaping. "We got notice that intercepts put the handover tomorrow. We need to speed up this search. Let's loosen up the grid and run a quick sweep through. Spout off if you see something interesting."

  Wolf stiffened a bit, then slipped away. This was not good. He'd done something, given himself away. He'd trust Hays at his back in a firefight any day. But could he trust him in the quiet, thoughtful times? No doubt he'd be finding out shortly.

  He headed straight for the heavy spot. It was three buildings over, some sort of maintenance facility, with a large vehicle door to one side. And there were guards keeping watch. A
lert guards that suddenly became even more alert. Nothing to indicate that he'd been seen. Wolf closed his eyes and started locating people by their auras. A few high lookouts, or possibly snipers, the main concentration of bodies was on the ground floor. There were more people approaching from the far side in good military order. A few fleeing in front of them. Alarmed auras. Furious ones. They were all converging on the heavy spot. Wolf warped light and started running toward the dense point. Got a good look at the various players, then sought cover to let his light warp go.

  He subvocalized to the Master Channel. "Action in twenty-nine south, thirty-five east. Looks like the local blues are closing in on something and the Qs have noticed them."

  Automatic fire opened from the high vantages, and was returned from the ground. The military advance stalled, and the auras inside started running for the outside, on the far side from the local troops. Wolf stopped his running commentary, warped light again and pulled up a kinetic shield, in close and personal. He ran for the nearest door, staggering as his shield deflected a shot. He sent a stun spell into the doorway, and got in before the secondaries filled the gap with bullets. He dodged chaotic pandemonium beyond them. Older men were being evacced under the guard of some young gun wielding toughs. He caught enough shouts to understand that they were all leaving, a fighting retreat.

  An older man hustled through a doorway. Abu Hamid, the weapons dealer. Sweating and rushed, he was followed by a dozen frightened men.

  Wolf cursed under his breath. The light warp messed up radio frequencies sent from the inside. He found a dark corner and unwarped long enough to subvocalize Hamid's location and the direction of their retreat. Then he warped and back tracked Hamid. Empty hallway. Three doors, one locked. A bit of telekinesis fiddled the lock.

  It had originally been designed for a missile. Now wires ran to computers, to power sources. No one here. He closed the door and unwarped.

  "Got it. Far south side by the vehicle door. Get the techs in fast, everyone is leaving in a hurry. They may have armed it." Wolf flipped on his cam and started sending pictures of the setup. "I'll lock myself in with it until the Friendlies are in control."

  'Mom' came on the channel. "Show me the computer screens. This isn't good. You need to contact those friendlies of yours and get me in there quickly. How the hell did you get in there?"

  "I'm extra sneaky. And lucky."

  "Not if that's a countdown. At least we're far enough from the City Center that the damage will be limited to people, not irreplaceable art and history."

  Wolf looked back at the computers surrounding the old warhead. He had a whole building in a bubble, this room full would fit in one easily, but even at ten thousand to one, a short countdown would end eventually. He had no idea what a nuclear explosion inside a bubble would be like, and really didn't want to find out. At least not from up close and personal.

  "Go back and get me a good close up of that last monitor." 'Mom' ordered. "Damn. Those are minutes. I had hoped for hours."

  "Dewulf, the Friendlies are about to breach the entrance." The Captain's voice on the override channel.

  "Right. Got my head down." Wolf caught a bubble and pinned it to the floor, climbed in the hole and pulled it down to a handy slit. Good timing. The door was kicked in and a flash bang tossed. He winced and really, really hoped they hadn't just done something unforgivable to the nuke. At least they hadn't set it off. Rapid footsteps froze suddenly.

  The only voice was a bit high and strained. "Capitaine, vous nous avez quelqu'un qui peut reconnaître un engin nucléaire ?" A long silence that might have been filled with radio communications.

  More footsteps. Horrified silence.

  "Nous sommes fucked."

  Wolfgang slanted his slit around and spoke carefully. "Actually there might be an American covert company combing the area for this, and they might already have an expert on site."

  Cursing and searching. The French troops quickly decided they were talking to a mini-remote. "We would be delighted to have an expert unexpectedly arrive."

  Captain Mauser had been following it all, and gave Dr. Cassidy's ETA as three minutes.

  "Three minutes. Please tell your people to not shoot the black panel truck."

  Wolf stayed hidden until the team was in, finger walked his bubble over and behind the squad. He unpeeled between Lopez, Thorne and a poorly lit corner. Sergeant Hays spotted him and eased over.

  "So, scary boy, anything you can do about this?"

  "With everyone watching? Yeah, if we get desperate. What sort of countdown are we looking at?" Wolf fingered the bubble uneasily. This is going to hurt.

  "Eighteen minutes. The Civil Defense people are trying to get the whole city to climb into their basements. Can you really do something? I mean, we've noticed . . . We don't care, but it's going to mess the hell with you, isn't it?"

  "Probably less than that nuke." Wolf shrugged. "It was going to happen sometime." I just wish it was much further in the future. He reached out and grabbed another bubble. "I'll need at least five seconds."

  Hays nodded and walked back toward the people hunched over the computer controls. He stepped aside with Captain Mauser and spoke quietly. Mauser stiffened and glanced toward Wolfgang. The look was not at all positive.

  "Kid, did you just screw yourself?" Thorne was frowning at him.

  "Beats trying to outrun a nuclear flash." I ought to have just scooped that baby up and played dumb.

  Lopez glared. "Answer, not quip. How screwed are you."

  "Very. I'm what you human beings call a hybrid experimental animal, an abomination, a frankenstein and when you're feeling especially nasty, a god."

  Lopez muttered something obscene. "Figured you were engineered, but . . . Need to run for it, after this?"

  "Nah. Probably about time one of us tried the legal system again. If all else fails, I get a free trip home to check on my friends before I escape again." With an extra bonus of nausea. I don't believe I'm doing this.

  "Well, be smart about it." Thorne looked worried. "My Mom won't like it if I let anything happen to you."

  "Never fear. My honest face and obvious innocence will win the day." On the next cold day in Hell.

  Hays stalked back to them. "Ten minutes. The Captain will let us know when they've given up. The Frenchies have evacced all their people except what's right here, and they are arranging a helicopter to get the rest, and some of us, out if possible. We'll leave you behind, to try your mojo on it. Are you sure . . . ?"

  "That'll work, but I'm going to disappear the whole thing. What is the French Government going to have to say about it?"

  Lopez and Thorne grinned.

  "They're going to think we stole it and/or that we set up the whole damn situation. This is not a good thing." Lopez sighed. "And it looks like we get to do it, too."

  Dr. Cassidy abandoned her instruments and bolted, ushered by the remaining Frenchmen. Wolf tossed his bubble over the whole thing, pulled it underneath and closed it. Then he opened his second bubble and dropped the first one in. He stuck it to his arm and grinned at his boggled team mates.

  "So, shall we get out of the country before the French get pissed?"

  Hays looked him up and down. "I don't suppose you could tell me what you just did?"

  "I encased the purported nuke in a multi-dimensional bubble that experiences a ten thousand to one time dilation. Then I double packed it. The bomb will eventually go off, and I haven't the faintest idea what will happen then. Dropping it somewhere remote, and letting it explode would probably be a good idea." Wolf headed for the door.

  Thorne looked thoughtfully at the long polished smooth scoop the bubble had taken out of the floor. "You're carrying it? Like it weighs nothing?"

  "Yep."

  Hays followed him out the door. "And is that how you carried Thorne forty ks in a day, back in Siberia?'

  "Yep."

  "And are you bulletproof?" Hays was looking hopeful.

  "I can make a . . .
force field? Sort of."

  Lopez snorted. "And you aren't just good at hiding, you are invisible."

  "Yep."

  "Read minds?" Hays again.

  "Hit and miss on that, sorry."

  "Kill people with a thought?" Thorne was grinning, even while his eyes remained serious.

  "Never tried it. I'd probably have to be almost close enough to touch them. A knife is a lot easier."

  "Maybe they'll let me keep you." The sergeant led the way to the black panel van. They piled in and drove off.

  ***

  "There were people on the other side! They looked like, I dunno, Indians or Arabs or something."

  Rebeccah stood up and looked around. Emre looked a little pale. It had been his second trip, the eighth time anyone had jumped through the rings.

  Dr. Heath hustled over to him. "How close were you? Did you touch them?"

  "Hell, yeah. They grabbed me. I kicked one and dived back through the ring. Did you get it on the cameras?"

  "Barely. You were too far to the side. Well, you’ll need to stay in quarantine for the whole two weeks, this time. And I really hope you didn’t infect them with anything. Oh dear, we really have gotten careless."

  Jack-the-Ass laughed. "You think they’ll all die off, like the Indians from small pox?"

  "I certainly hope not. And while the Tellies are ridiculously healthy, that doesn’t mean they can’t carry cold and flu germs on their hands and clothing."

  The techs wheeled the disgruntled Emre off to the medical center. Dr. Heath took a quick look at the six of them, and followed.

  Rebeccah traded looks with Isobel. "People on the other side. What do you want to bet the company will respect their property rights and stick to only uninhabited worlds?"

  "Maybe they’ll just be too much trouble. Not cost effective. After all, we’ve found plenty of other worlds without people." Harriet's voice wavered a bit. "That we noticed."

  ***

  "I accept the authority of the courts, either military or civilian, over me. I wish to assert a claim of personhood. I claim to have all the rights of any other human being born in the North American Union. Starting with a lawyer."