by P. S. Power
It was probably overkill, since the boy looked to be about twelve or so and small for his age, but Jake looked down the black, slightly scratched metal of his nine millimeter at him anyway. After all, the last person he'd seen dressed like that was a bomb. For that matter he decided to keep his distance, even as people moved from the House to see what the new sound was.
For his part the boy kept slapping the stick in his hands on the hard ground. It was nearly bare in the area, since it had high foot traffic, so he was connecting with frozen dirt with each blow. The stick itself seemed normal enough at first, but when the young man stopped and looked at him, eyes going slightly wide, it was clear that the thing wasn't just a piece of wood. It had a strip of metal down one side, and a copper looking handle around the end that was being held. The other end was also metal, but had a silvery sheen to it.
"Freeze." Jake said it with menace, ready to fire, little kid or not. The way he looked was probably meant to slow him down, get him to not react at all. If it hadn't worked with the look alike of his own mother though an unknown child wasn't going to do the trick.
Especially if that youngster wasn't really what it seemed.
The kid looked at the weapon, then around him as the others got the idea that he might be a threat. There were a lot of weapons pointed at him suddenly.
The boy did freeze though, rather nicely in fact.
"I come in peace." The words sounded so serious and adult that Jake nearly had to smile. It was a line from every "B" science fiction movie ever made after all. Normally what the aliens said just before they tried to take over the world. Then those movies might have been just a little paranoid. After all, the aliens, if they existed, had left them alone as far as he knew.
He held the expression in though, so as to not confuse anyone and kept his weapon trained without wavering much.
"I see. OK, can you tell me why you're dressed like a Technologist if that's the case? The last person of that type I saw blew up, trying to kill me and the group of people I was with." He didn't add the stuff about his mother figuring that part wasn't really needed.
The kid tilted his head to about fifteen degrees, a subtle movement and sighed.
"That... was unknown to me and my people. We've come to aid you as we may, traveling from our home on the Southern American continent. My name is... well, call me Hal. I was sent out to find the one known as Mickey. The one called Very Good, not the mouse. That came as a shock, we spent weeks traveling to an abandoned amusement park." He spoke clearly enough, if with an accent that said he wasn't speaking his native tongue at all.
Everyone took a few seconds to look baffled, but Jake nodded.
"Alright. I'm the one you're looking for I guess. Call me Jake. It will cut down on confusion. My real name is Mickey Robson, but I don't go by that." Everyone had heard him called that by now, all the people that had been around for Christmas at least. The newest people didn't get it, not the Human ones that had wandered in, but Jake didn't really care about them anyway. Not as more than numbers. Not yet. They weren't his friends or anything.
The kid, Hal, slowly set down the stick in his hand then pointed at it. The gesture was probably supposed to be reassuring, but it nearly got him shot. Not just by Jake either. Vicki was clearly tightening her finger on the trigger of her own handgun.
"This is an earth... radio. I need to bury it at least two feet into the ground. The initial power is generated by an internal piezoelectric crystal in the top." He looked at the weapons again, got that he was speaking in gibberish to most of them and stopped.
Burt explained from the porch, his face covered with a scarf to keep the cold out of his lungs. Some of the people did that now. It wasn't a bad idea overall, but Jake had never noticed Burt doing it before. He was pretty old though, so maybe it was easier on him or something?
"It's... an abandoned technology. Basically the idea is to send radio waves through the ground, using naturally existent energy for the process. A piezoelectric crystal takes physical force and turns it into electricity. It would explain pounding it on the ground like that." The older man rubbed his scarf a little, as if it itched, then shook his head.
"I'd always thought it was just a pipe dream, kind of like free energy or cars that run only off of water."
The boy smiled, as if Burt's words meant he wouldn't be killed or something.
"Those are things that can be done. However it has been deemed that using personal conveyance is inefficient and leads to social decay. Public oriented transportation is preferred. That or walking, which promotes fitness and attractiveness. Those are both important for mental stability."
It was a risk, but Jake knew that he'd have to either kill the boy out of hand, before he could prove a threat to them all, or trust that he was who he said. It was, of course, easier to trust a child than an adult in the same situation, which made the whole thing far more suspect. Who'd let a kid make first contact with people that might just kill him? It was insane.
"So Hal, what I'm going to do is this. Everyone else is going to step back a good way, in case you explode or something, then I'm going to put my weapon away and walk over to you. If you start to kill me... well, I'm betting that you won't, but I don't know if I can trust you yet. So far that hasn't gone to well with your people. I kind of think your kind is behind the zombies that have nearly destroyed the world as well as a bunch of other things. I know that sounds harsh, but it's what the evidence I have seems to say."
Oddly enough that just got a blank stare for a while from the kid. Then he looked at the "earth radio" in his hand and finally glanced back up.
"I'm not supposed to try and explain anything, but it seems that you require an explanation of some kind to feel comfortable with me. Please don't kill me." This got addressed to Vicki, not Jake. It seemed strange though, as if he didn't think Jake was the real danger. Of course he'd already offered to put his weapon away, so maybe that had reassured the kid.
"I know that you may feel bound to, but I give full word and bond that neither myself or those I travel with have created this plague. However, some of my people did. I cannot explain that portion of things, but if you allow me to call for the others I believe it will be explained. I promise you that we do no harm to anyone. It is our way. It is why we have come, to help undo this... bad thing, done to the world."
He looked earnest at least. Like he was trying really hard to seem both sane and reasonable. He didn't seem very afraid though.
Jake would have been, if he was the one having to stand in front of a group of people, totally unarmed, explaining that his family had killed most of theirs. It decided him though and he waved everyone back, slowly holstering the weapon in his hand. Then he walked forward, wondering when the explosion would come. Instead the boy slowly stooped and picked up the stick from the ground, brushing it off a little. The move seemed almost fussy, like he really didn't want to be touching something that had been in direct contact with the ground at all.
No one spoke at all for a long time, or moved overly, just observing each other. Both probably wondering if they were going to live past the next moment. Finally Jake pointed at the stick.
"We need to bury it? Maybe if we get one of the pick-axes out here? Could someone run and get that from the tool shed?"
That was done faster than he figured it would be, one of the young and rather pretty Vals doing it at a full run, not even slipping on the snow at all. It was, he realized, Matilde who had done it. The girl formerly known as Six. Vicki's younger sister. Tipper's too, as far as that went.
She didn't hand the thing off to him though, pointing to a spot on the ground and looking at Hal suspiciously.
"There?" Her accent was still kind of thick, but the word was understandable enough.
The boy nodded, but tentatively.
Burt walked over too, obviously not fearing death like he should either. Not that anyone could see his face. He looked like a bank robber or something. Jake could sympathize, but it
was a real risk still. He nearly moved the man back again when he spoke, pointing at the ground.
"We have metal pipes running along these lines," his hands outlined the septic system. "Will that influence the device?"
Hal froze again.
"Perhaps. We could move it away from them by at least forty meters?"
That meant walking to the other side of the House, but didn't take long. Jake kept looking for the trap, but nothing at all happened. Matilde had a deep enough hole dug in a few minutes, having fought through the frozen soil using brute force. The whole thing was just slid into place after that, a few deft movements and a little replacement of dirt. It got tamped down by a sturdy looking boot.
Then the boy tapped the silver top of the thing, bending over to do it, since it was only about two feet out of the ground now.
"Hello? This is H. A. Linster, is anyone listening yet? I've found the... one that we are searching for. Return message if possible." He didn't explain why they might not be available, just repeating his message for a while.
Finally a voice spoke back, sounding rather more female than not, but just as dry as the boy had.
"This is Sara. Are you able to speak freely?"
"Yes. I'm unharmed and not taken prisoner, I don't believe. I have the correct dwelling though. Perhaps if you and Donald came to this location? I'll leave this in place as a beacon. I... Told them that our people are responsible for the plague, which they seemed to already have deduced. I didn't mention the rest. It would be prudent to move slowly, I believe. They have not offered violence, but all here seem armed."
That was an overstatement, but Jake didn't correct the mistake. Better they think everyone was ready to fight than to seem vulnerable.
"I understand. Be safe son. We will be at your location in... Three hours. Is that suitable?"
"I believe so."
Then the voice stopped talking and Hal stood in place, as if he didn't know what to do other than wait.
Shrugging Jake waved them toward the House.
"We might as well wait in comfort. Have you eaten today?" It was late enough, but traveling could be hungry work and the boy didn't seem to have anything with him but that stick radio thing.
"I have, earlier. I could use more, if that's possible?" It was a simple enough statement, but sounded bland, as if it was also alright if they couldn't, or didn't want to, feed him.
The big problem was that everyone wanted to go inside with them, to get the new information that seemed promised by the boy being there, and crowded around them both, not letting them have even enough space to sit. Finally Jake rolled his eyes.
"Work, remember? Why don't you Vals go and run training for everyone not actively doing something? It's obvious that we're not getting information until these others come. I'm not holding a kid down and "interrogating" him or anything, so go. Do something." That got them left almost alone, except for Ken, who got them chairs then stood directly behind Hal, hiding a small black thing in his right hand carefully. It was almost invisible, but Jake didn't doubt Ken would use it if he had too.
Ready to take the boy out if he did even one thing wrong. It really was better to be careful after all. Jake nodded to him. He was still recovering from his gunshot wound anyway, so training in the snow was probably out. As a berserker he could probably fight through the pain if he had too, but only if it came to a real fight. Better to leave him in the warm.
The food came, though just for the boy, who held the plate in one hand awkwardly, rather than setting it on his lap. It was just bread and some meat slices, but he wisely didn't ask what kind it was. The dark color meant it wasn't human flesh. Apparently even the Technologists weren't that picky about what they ate now. That or he figured it would be rude to question them on it.
Other than that they just sat, waiting like Hal had said. It was nearly eerie, the kid not becoming restless at all, just sitting, occasionally looking around. He felt and looked nearly peaceful. The posture he took was alert, but not the raw and nerved-filled paranoia that almost everyone else had all the time now. It was like a kid watching an interesting program on television, rather than the shocked and burnt-out reaction of a real child.
Ken was a darker presence in the background, ready to pounce and kill at a moment's notice for instance.
At nearly three hours exactly the boy stood, a slow movement that was meant to not startle anyone. He was trying to be good at least and wasn't, Jake forced himself to remember, a prisoner.
"My parents should be here soon. Would it be acceptable to go and wait for them outside, where we may be seen? I believe that would put them at ease."
Jake smiled.
"Sure. I know it would make me feel better, if it were my son in here."
It took a whole five minutes to get into place, half a dozen people feeling that they should be there to meet the newcomers, but in the end Jake decided that it should just be him and the boy at first. If anyone died because of this, it might as well be him, right? For some reason that idea didn't set well with everyone and Nate shook his head.
"No. I'm going with you. This boy doesn't mean any harm Jake. The people watching us from the woods don't either. It's safe. I don't think they understand violence really."
That got a whole troop to come out again, but Jake just went with it. He wasn't in charge or a telepath, so what did he know?
The two people walking from the bushes wore clothing that seemed nearly identical to Hal's. Brown boots, tan pants that were ridiculously tight and leather jackets. Buttoned up so that he couldn't see what they had on underneath. It didn't look warm enough in the cold, but none of them seemed to be even chilled at all. It was probably some kind of special fabric then, because Jake had seen some of their type wearing almost identical clothing in humid jungle conditions without sweating either.
When they walked up Nate smiled and raised both hands a little, not in surrender, just to show he didn't have anything in them. Like a weapon.
"I'm Nathanial Burns. Sometimes called Nate Green. This is Jake. Um, Mickey Robson. Sometimes called The Very Good Man." He gestured toward Jake to indicate which of the rabble he meant.
Jake stepped forward.
"Alright. If you come in peace, we should all go and talk. We need some explanations I think. If you don't, then let's fight out here. It will make less of a mess."
For some reason the two adults smiled at that. Like he was joking with them.
They sounded serious enough though. The woman spoke for them, her brown hair short and tidy, even though they'd clearly walked a good way to be there.
"We are Sara and Donald Linster. You already know Humperdinck. We agree that we should have conversation. Shall we do that here?" She looked around, but it wasn't in judgment, just a question, as if eager to get started on something.
Jake looked at the boy and shook his head.
"Seriously? You named the poor kid "Humperdinck"? Wow. Kind of cold. I can see why he goes by Hal." It wasn't a kind thing to say, which showed on the woman's face, but Hal nodded.
"As I keep telling them."
It was an issue between them it seemed. Donald made a face.
"It was my father's name, he was a strong and intelligent man, a leader of our community..."
Nate grinned though and stared at the man, both of them with matching brown eyes.
"And he hated that name, didn't he?"
That stopped the conversation until the man made another face.
"With a passion."
Jake waved them all inside, making sure they stayed close. He didn't know if anyone would take umbrage to them having come from the people that had done a lot of bad things to them, but it didn't seem likely that they were the bad guys themselves. That meant that they might need to be protected from his people, many of whom would probably be holding a grudge as soon as they learned of that part of things. If they didn't know already.
He had a thousand questions, somewhere inside, but as soon as everyone was s
itting at the largest of the dining tables his mind went curiously blank. It was receptive, and he knew what was going on around him, but he didn't try to add anything at all. He glanced at Nate as Vicki slipped in alongside of him. Colleen was on the other side and rather possessively she took his hand for some reason.
That got a smirk from the Val, who did the same thing, which made him feel trapped and vulnerable. He didn't fight his hands free, but if he had to go for a weapon he was screwed. The Technologists didn't seem to care about that, Sara leaning in to speak, her voice a nice controlled whisper. It was what they'd all been using after all, and she didn't seem to be bucking the tradition.
"We became aware that the Earth was dying in nineteen fifty-two. The head ones of our people looked into many measures to attempt to save the planets existing biosphere. Nothing worked however. At almost every turn we were thwarted by the major governments and corporations of the world. Our... psychological analysis teams generated thousands of mental profiles showing that no one in the existing power structure would be willing to act until it was too late, since human beings become more selfish and resistant to change when they are in power. A plan had been made up in the early sixties to assassinate leaders of the world and replace them with duplicates that would be willing to act in the way needed for the common good." She stopped looking around the table, settling her gaze on Burt who was the only one that showed any reaction at all, even though that was in body posture, his face still covered for some reason.
She nodded slowly at him.
"It was considered too negative an action for our people, so we worked in secret to educate the world to the coming dangers, which as you may realize, didn't work. People continued to use dangerous technologies, make weapons that would destroy us all if used and to poison the world. A... small, but highly intelligent group of my people began to plan in secret about that time, working to undo the harm that was done. With each passing year it became more clear to all of us that in order to survive, the planet would need to severely reduce the population numbers. Many ideas were suggested, but it is not in the hearts of the Technologists, as you call us, to harm others. That changed sixteen months ago."
