by Alfred Wurr
Tiring, I dropped my hands, collapsing the bubble. The monster charged a half second later. I raised snow drifts at my feet as it neared, preparing to duck. As it closed to twenty feet, the sound of gunfire erupted behind me. Bullets zipped past my shoulder—some hitting me—before striking the charging Drogre. I dropped into the snow up to my eyes, out of the line of fire, and turned to face the new threat.
Flashes of gunfire continued to flare inside the downed chopper as the brute passed over my head. It hit the fuselage like a linebacker sacking a quarterback, pushing it several feet. Bursts of gunfire continued to sound as the beast pounded on the metal, leaving huge dents with each blow. The monster reached inside and snatched its hand back a second later, shaking drops of blood onto the desert floor.
I popped from the snow and clambered up the monster’s back, using the spikes on its hide as handholds. The Drogre shook the chopper as if trying to dislodge a bag of chips from a vending machine as I climbed.
I took a deep breath and threw myself onto the spikes over its neck. I gasped and grimaced as they sank into my abdomen, impaling me.
This better work, I thought.
Feeling faint, I slapped my hands where I guessed the Drogre’s ears must be and started streaming cold and frost into its head. The Drogre stood tall, forgetting the helicopter, and pawed at its neck. I felt myself tugged, pulled, and pummelled, but the monster’s own spikes held me in place like fuzz stuck to a Velcro fastener as the sound of gunfire resumed.
It staggered away from the onslaught, raining blows down on my back and head. My grip weakened and stars exploded in my eyes as a huge fist bashed me in the head, driving me into the Drogre’s thick hide. I blinked, struggling to stay conscious, still sending cold into it. The next blow didn’t come as the creature staggered forward and crumpled. As before, I kept up my attack, counting to thirty and watching as a thin layer of frost spread from its head down to its torso.
I lay atop its back, groaning and confused. I did a push-up, lifting myself free of the spikes that impaled me, and cried out. I ached all over. I ached from stab wounds, loss of vital fluids, the heat, and the strain of working the Underfrost. I staggered down the beast’s back and fell off, landing face first in the dry, rocky soil. I lay there for several seconds, then stood as Bear ran to my side.
“Hello?” called a voice from the helicopter. “Help, please.” The gunman, I thought.
“Stay back, Bear.” He sat on his hind legs. “Good dog.”
I stepped around the Drogre’s hulking body and looked inside the chopper. The smell of fuel permeated the air. Two men were inside. One, wearing large headphones and a flight suit, sat strapped into the front seat, his head lolling to the side at an unnatural angle—unnatural for anyone alive, at least. The other held an automatic rifle, pointed loosely in my direction. He pressed a hand to his bleeding forehead, grimacing as he regarded me.
“Hello, Winterboy,” said the silver-haired man.
I know that voice, I thought.
“What are you doing here, Harland?” I asked, using Security Director Dixon’s first name.
“Rescuing you, by the looks of it.”
I pressed my lips together and blew air through them. “Yeah, right, I had it under control.”
“Well, sure, I suppose you did at that,” he said, wincing. “Nice trick, that. You’ve got some memories back.” It wasn’t a question.
I shrugged. “Maybe.” I looked at the gun. “I’m not going back. Shoot me if you want. See how that works out for you.”
Dixon glanced down at the weapon, then threw it out the open side door and onto the ground at my feet. “Take it. It’s empty. What on earth was that thing?”
“How’d you find me?” I asked, ignoring the question.
Dixon sucked in air through clenched teeth as he repositioned himself. “Tracking device, in one of the test tubes. I planted one, just in case. Limited range, though, so it took us some time to find you when we finally realized that you were gone. For some reason, we only picked it up for a few minutes recently, but it gave us a vector to follow.”
“Where’s the tracker?” I demanded, tearing the hat from my head. “Which tube?” He recited a serial number. The fourth bottle I grabbed matched. I popped the stopper, sniffing the contents. I dipped a finger into the bottle and touched it to my tongue. What is this, Kool-Aid? I held it up, eyeing the liquid inside. Whatever it is, it’s not like the others. I poured it out over my hand. Something hard and beige landed in my palm.
“That’s it,” Harland said, nodding.
I crushed it in my hand and threw the pieces at him.
“I’m going now, Harland,” I said quietly, staring him in the eyes. “Don’t follow me.”
“Can’t do that, Winterboy.”
“Why the hell not? What’s your beef with me?”
“No beef,” he said, making a dismissive gesture. “But we need you.”
“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “For freedom. For the fight against the Reds. The commies. Nuclear annihilation. We’ve had this conversation before, and you use that as an excuse for everything. You’re a paranoid freaking loon.”
Dixon’s eyes flashed. “No, I’m a patriot.” He shifted his weight, groaning. “I wish I was paranoid, but the threat of socialism is real.”
“Come on. What’s so wrong with sharing? With everyone having a job and a place to sleep?”
Dixon made a rude sound. “Don’t be a naïve fool. Yes, it sounds great in theory. But this is the real world, Winterboy. Socialists want to steal the labour and assets of the able-bodied and able-minded for their own so that the more pathetic and useless thrive, cared for by those who actually contribute to society.”
I shook my head. “What about those that can’t help themselves?”
“Sure,” Dixon said, throwing up his hands. “Help those who stumble and need a hand up. Even help those who will never be anything but a burden, if it makes you feel better. But don’t you dare try to enslave everyone else to your ideals. If it were just the needy, we’d be all right, but it’s not.” He paused, wincing again. “Don’t you see? Most people are lazy, worthless parasites; they’ll happily prey upon generosity, take without gratitude, deluding themselves that it is their right because they are weak, while trying to convince everyone else of the same. They’re criminals…without the work ethic.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” I replied. “Even for you.”
“Look, the bottom line is, society owes you nothing beyond the right to compete. Period. You think the Soviets are happy? Of course not—they’re all equal in their misery, except for the Politburo pricks. Why try to strive for anything in a society where parasites feed off your hard work? It’s happening already. Mark my words, if we keep going this way, one day we’ll be a nation of entitled whiners.”
“Whatever,” I said, making a face. I stabbed a finger at him. “You drafted me into your ideological war. You talk about being enslaved by the ideals of others, but you did the same thing to me, you hypocrite.”
“You’d do the same. If you could, you’d compel us to help you with your global warming catastrophe. But we’re warm-blooded beings, Winterboy. We like the heat. No one’s got any complaints, except a few tree-hugging alarmists and you. We certainly aren’t going to help you bring about a new ice age, if such a thing is even possible.”
“I don’t remember that, but it sounds like I asked for your help. And you kidnapped me, and messed with my mind, stole my memories.”
“No, we didn’t steal them. Wait…of course…you haven’t swallowed the samples yet, have you? You asked us to do it.”
“What are you talking about? No, I didn’t. Why would I?”
“Well, we did go beyond the original agreement when we realized the potential of the elements that you’re composed of, but you walked us through the process the first time. There was something you wanted to forget. A tragedy, maybe, or a secret of some kind, perhaps. You wouldn’t say. I’ve got
to say, I’ve got some things I wouldn’t mind forgetting myself. If you drink those, you’ll get back the bad with the good. Think about that before you do.”
“You’re lying,” I said, looking away. “You can’t fool me. I’ve got a hat full of samples. Once I drink them, I’ll know you’re just messing with my head…again.”
“No, it isn’t over. That wasn’t all of them. We sent samples to other Bodhi Group labs. If you come back, I’ll help you get them back, too. Help you avoid the memories you don’t want.”
“Why would I believe a word you say?”
“Because we don’t need them anymore. Don’t ask why.”
The radio chattered with static. “You bastard. You’ve called for help, haven’t you? You’ve been keeping me talking, stalling for time, going on about socialism as usual.”
Dixon chuckled, then winced. “Of course I did. I told you; we need you—now more than ever. The shit I’ve seen today…monsters out of myth. Demons. Come back with us. You can have your memories back. Just tell us everything that you know, so we can fight these things.”
“Go melt yourself,” I said, raising my arms.
“Are there more coming, Shivurr?” I ignored him and walked around the aircraft, raising snow drifts ten feet high. I can’t have you seeing where we go. He continued to shout in a shrill voice. “Are there? Are there more?”
I called Bear over and we left Dixon behind, still calling to me.
Chapter 33
Can’t Bear to Go
I checked the skies behind us for another chopper coming to Dixon’s rescue. Seeing none, I exhaled and looked east. The headlights of several vehicles, a few miles off, were moving our way. Must be the Bodhi Group, or whoever’s trucks were parked at the cemetery, I thought. Whether to rescue Dixon, investigate the crash, or recover the monsters, I didn’t know.
I began jogging. Bear increased his pace to match, and we retraced our steps into the hills. I tensed my shoulders as we entered the valley for the second time, half expecting another Drogre to appear. Once inside, Bear led me about a quarter mile into them before we angled to the southwest. We jogged through a low point between two peaks, then turned west. The terrain grew rougher. A rocky hill rose before us a quarter mile off, running north-south, looking like the backbone of some sleeping leviathan. As we got closer, steep cliffs formed a wall. Bear turned right, head down, sniffing the ground as he moved. A short while later, he stopped, lay down, barked and looked back at me.
“What is it, buddy?” I asked, looking around. I saw only rocks and boulders and dark shadows. He stood up and walked in a large circle, then barked again. “This is it? This is the place?” He barked again.
I scratched the back of my head, studying the ground. There was no dais. It just looked like more of the rough, rugged terrain that we’d been walking over for the last while.
It must be hidden under the rock, I thought.
It made sense. Remote as the location was, travellers—prospectors or hikers—would have noticed it by now if it were just sitting out in the open.
I scraped away some of the gravel and found nothing but more of it below. Then I remembered that Olivia had said that I needed to bring the temperature below freezing. Maybe she meant so that I could see it, I thought.
“Watch out, Bear,” I said, waving him to the side.
He hopped to his feet and padded over to my side as I rolled balls of snow over the ground. Within seconds, mounds of snow bloomed across the area. Then we waited.
It began as a pinpoint of white-and-blue light that snapped to a fifty-foot sphere an instant later. I stepped back as a semi-translucent Allfrost node phased into existence and solidified. A sphere of white light rose from its centre, pulsating with energy. I rolled a few more snowballs over its surface and walked up to the sphere, pulling my hat from my head. Standing next to the energy node, I held the white gem Kurt had given me up to the starlight and looked at Bear.
“Well, here goes,” I said, holding the crystal over the sphere and letting it fall. The gem sank into the orb and didn’t fall out the other side. I held my breath until it grew larger and started to pulsate. I smiled as the white snow at my feet rose higher still, the air cooled, and snowflakes began to fall. Just like the cold oasis on Allfrost Island, I thought. “Is that it, buddy?”
He barked a reply, got to his feet and began walking, which I took to be a good sign. I followed him a short distance to the northwest, uphill, then down into the shadow of the tall, steep cliffs on the other side. Deep within, we approached a wall of rock and he stopped. He barked at it, staring fixedly at a collection of rocks and boulders, residue of a long-ago rockslide, that lay before a small split in the earth.
I moved closer to inspect the gap. It wasn’t large enough for me to squeeze through, but in the dim light, I noticed a slight blue-white glow inside. I leaned in and stuck my hand as deep as I could reach. Cooler air caressed my fingertips.
“This must be the place,” I said, pulling my hand back and looking at Bear, who sat on his haunches nearby, watching with interest. “You did it, buddy.”
I leaned back into the opening, extended my hand, and began filling the crack with snow. I didn’t have the strength to Frost Walk, and it looked like a tight fit. When snow burst out of the rift onto the ground at my feet, I stepped back and knelt next to my canine companion. He tilted his head and looked at me, panting, as I ran a hand over his fur.
“All right, Bear. This is where we part ways, I guess. Olivia said you would take care of yourself. After tonight, I suppose she was right. I’ll see you soon, I hope.” I fed him the last of my water and gave him a hug, and he raised a foreleg to hug me back.
It didn’t seem right leaving him unprotected. I called Olivia again on the modified cassette player. “Are you sure it’s okay to leave him?” I asked after catching her up on recent events.
“Let me talk to him,” she replied. I held the headphone speakers to the dog’s ears. He barked several times after a moment, then pulled away. “He’ll be fine. Now get moving before they catch up.”
I hugged him again, gave his head a scratch and then, feeling inexplicably lonely, slipped into the crevice. Ten feet in, the crack broadened. I could no longer touch both sides at the same time, and cool air enveloped me. A thin film of frost had already formed on the smooth walls of the passageway.
Looks like the power node is doing its thing, I thought.
I strode down the hall, deeper into the earth, until it opened out into a larger cavity much like the other two Allfrost Chambers that I’d seen in recent days.
“Greetings, Sentinel Shivurr,” said Hue’s familiar voice. “I have been awaiting your arrival since I felt this chamber come back online. Did you succeed in your quest?”
“Hey, Hue,” I said, glad to hear a friendly voice. I paused before continuing. “Yeah, more or less. I’ll tell you all about it later. For now, I just want to get home. I’m beat.”
“Of course,” Hue replied in a cheerful voice. “This Allfrost Chamber is currently underpowered, but energy levels are sufficient to enable your return to New Olympus. Do you wish to leave immediately?”
“Yes, please,” I said, stepping up to the fountain before the tholos. I rubbed my face and scowled, thinking about the active power node outside. “Hue, are you able to shut down power nodes?”
The AI materialized next to me. “Of course.”
“Once I’ve made it back, can you turn off the one outside? Will that make it vanish again?”
“Most certainly. However, that will take this Allfrost Chamber’s transporter and other functions offline once again. You will not be able to use it to return to this location.”
I nodded, frowning. “I don’t suppose there’s a standby mode of some kind. Something less obvious than a pulsating globe of energy and mound of snow in the desert.”
“Indeed, there is a low-energy conservation mode. It may still be detected as a pocket of unusually chilly air but will not be v
isible to the naked eye. I could place it into that state once you have returned. I will be able to reactivate it in this state, if the need arises. Of course, it will then be hard to miss during that time.”
“That’d be perfect,” I said. “Will you be able to monitor the area in the low-power state? Using its Oculus?”
“The range will be limited to just the immediate vicinity of that particular node, but yes,” Hue said. “To what end, if I may inquire?”
“To know if you need to shut it down completely, if people show up and start snooping around. Can you do that?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Then please do so,” I said. “I don’t want this chamber found.”
“Of course, as you wish. Is there anything else?”
“Is Bear—the dog that was with me—still outside?”
“Negative. The canine began heading west a few minutes ago.”
“Anyone else?”
“There are no living creatures larger than an insect in range of this chamber’s currently functioning Oculi at this point in time.”
“What about scorpions the size of a bus?” I muttered.
“I beg your pardon?” Hue said, sounding baffled.
“Read my thoughts,” I said, calling up the battles in my mind.
“Oh, yes, I see now. That is quite remarkable. Most likely they are creatures of the Faction. Nothing of the kind is visible currently, but this chamber’s current visibility range is severely limited at present.”
“Fair enough.” I took a breath and held a hand over the fountain. “Either way, it’s time for me to go.” I pictured the island in my mind, activating the transporter, and a huge ball of snow rose to engulf me. I was on my way home, at last.
Chapter 34
Lucky to Be Here
A few days later, I held an iced tea in hand and lounged in a lawn chair, looking out at the frothing waters of the Pacific Ocean. Caleb and Hanale sat atop their surfboards offshore, laughing and talking as they waited for another good wave to ride.