The Corps of Discovery Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3: A multiverse series of alternate history

by James S. Peet

  It’s amazing just how loud the crashing of surf can be on an otherwise quiet night.

  Bill had just shut his eyes from the third watch, hoping to finally get some sleep when he was rudely awakened by Meri. “Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up. We gotta go.”

  He came wide awake, rifle in hand. Looking around, he saw his wife standing over him, with a sky just lightening. “What time is it?” he muttered, looking at the chronograph strapped to his wrist, before remembering that his chrono was set to Alpha time. Alpha time was the time used for Hayek’s capital of Milton, located in what was eastern Washington on Earth. On Hayek, it was in the Yakama Canton, just east of the Cascade Mountains. Well, that does me no good, he thought.

  The sun was just rising above the ocean’s horizon. Bill struggled out of the canoe and saw Ben and Karen already standing by the fire drinking coffee. As Bill joined them, Meri gave him a cup, but not before getting a morning kiss from him.

  “Listen up, gang,” Karen said. “As soon as possible, we’ll be on our way. I’ll try to get us into the next RON site before nightfall so we can do a little hunting.”

  RON was pilot-speak for Remain Over Night. “Bill identified our next stop as a bay called…?” Karen looked at Bill.

  He pulled out his pocket notepad and flipped a few pages. “Bahia de Rosas. There’s a couple of rivers that feed into it. It’s about 130 klicks south of here, around the Cabo Creus Canyon, a cape that sticks out.” He put his notepad back into its pocket. “That still leaves us over a thousand klicks from the Strait of Gibraltar.”

  “So, there you have it,” Karen said. “Let’s get this circus on the road.”

  After a quick breakfast of jerky, and once the hammocks were packed, three Explorers showered while Karen kept watch. The showers were nothing more than a shower head attached to a collapsible bottle, but it was enough to wash off the grime of the day before. One thing the Corps of Discovery took seriously was hygiene, hence the showers, toothbrushes, and laundry bag washers in all survival kits. As far as the Corps was concerned, cleanliness wasn’t next to Godliness, it actually came first. Once the three were finished, dressed, and had rifles in hand, then Karen took her shower. After all the bottles were drained, they were filled with filtered water from the river. Nobody wanted to be out on the sea without enough water.

  The four boarded the vessel and set sail within an hour after sunrise. It took a while to get out a safe distance from shore, tacking all the way, as the east wind was still upon them. Once far enough offshore to satisfy Karen’s requirements, they headed south.

  They rounded Cabo Creus Canyon on the Iberian Peninsula late in the afternoon and made their way into the bay. Landfall was on the beach near one of the two rivers. Once landed, the canoe was dragged ashore above the high tide mark, and camp was made again.

  Bill and Meri offered to go hunting. Karen agreed, so they grabbed their rifles. Bill also brought a PDW in case they saw smaller game: anything deer-sized or less. The rifles used the 7.62 NATO round, which the Corps found to be ideal for most game. The PDW used a much smaller cartridge, the 5.7x28mm round, which was basically a hopped up .22 magnum round.

  Other than the caliber size, there were many other things that differentiated the two firearms. The ER-1 was a bolt action rifle that had a detachable magazine in front of the trigger, a fixed stock that contained a spare five-round magazine and a cleaning kit, an integral bipod, a rifle scope, iron sights, and a 45-centimeter barrel. Bill still thought of it in standard measurement terms of 18 inches. This meant it had enough power to take out large game several hundred meters away.

  The PDW, or more officially, the PDW-1, was more like a pistol with a collapsible stock. It was a semi-automatic weapon that fed from a magazine through the pistol grip, had a smaller scope with very little magnification, backup iron sights, and a short barrel, barely 30 centimeters, or 12 inches. Pistols were something the Corps didn’t issue or recommend, due to a combination of a short range, underpowered ammunition for the job, and the overall excess weight it had in relation to its usefulness. A lot of time went into training Explorers how to use both rifles, so either one was considered sufficient for survival situations. The PDW was favored for hunting because its cartridge wasn’t powerful enough for protection against most predators, and the crew wanted to save the larger cartridges for when absolutely needed.

  Bill and Meri headed up the bank of the river, walking slowly, and listening. They would take two or three slow steps, toes down first, and then heels, rest, and listen. Bill was in front in case they spotted a deer or goat. They had been taught this technique in survival school — the one with the more powerful rifle came second to provide security for the one hunting up front.

  They hadn’t gone far when Bill spotted a clearing by the river. As they approached, they saw a small herd of goat-like animals, maybe gazelle. The horns on the lone male amazed Bill, seeming to curve in all directions, but winding up pointing back. They were also ridged. Bill looked the herd over and, using his chin, pointed to a female goat who looked neither pregnant nor nursing. Meri nodded, keeping her attention on the male, in case he decided to defend his flock.

  As Bill was preparing to shoot, Meri did a slow scan around them, making sure nothing was sneaking up on them. She knew better than to have both of them pay attention to one area when threats existed all around.

  Bill took careful aim and placed the scope’s crosshairs right behind the ear of the goat he had chosen. Gently easing the trigger back with his index finger, he was surprised when the rifle actually fired, just as he should have been. Since the recoil of the PDW was practically nonexistent, Bill could watch the bullet strike the goat exactly where he aimed. The animal dropped like a rock. The rest of the flock, alarmed by the shot, jumped and moved a few feet, looking around. He debated on shooting a second goat but decided against it. We’ve got enough dried meat, and this’ll be enough for tonight and tomorrow.

  As he and Meri began walking toward the dead animal, the rest of the skittish herd spotted them, and that was enough to cause them to flee, racing across the opening and crashing into the forest.

  “Run, Forrest, run,” Bill muttered. Meri gave him a strange look, to which he replied, “Old movie.” She nodded, accustomed by now to his odd cultural references she didn’t get.

  The goat was small, so Bill just bled and gutted it. Rather than get his uniform dirty by slinging it over his shoulder, he cut a small sapling to which they tied the goat’s feet, then lifted it over their shoulders and carried it back to camp. This time, though, Bill had slung his PDW and carried his rifle.

  Karen looked up as they walked into the camp. “Home is the hunter, home from the hills.” She had them to use forked sticks set up on either side of the fire and get the goat on a spit.

  Bill noticed that only two hammocks were set out. He gave Karen questioning look. “We figured you two honeymooners need as much time together as possible, so we’re letting you use the Guppy as your personal honeymoon suite for the next several nights.” Karen had clearly watched a lot of reruns and old movies in her youth. Once again, though, the old Earth reference went right over Meri’s head. As Bill glanced over at the canoe, he saw a new carving on the bow, enhanced with charcoal.

  “Really? Guppy?” he asked in amazement, looking at the two.

  “Karen’s idea,” Ben said with a grin, waving his hand at her. Karen grinned like the proverbial Cheshire cat.

  “What’s the Guppy?” Meri asked.

  “It’s from an old TV show, probably even before our parent’s time, about a small group of castaways on a tropical island. Their boat was the Guppy.” Karen said, laughing.

  “Seems appropriate,” Meri said.

  “I thought so,” Karen said softly. She cleared her throat. “Well, stop gabbing, everyone. Get supper ready and then hit the rack. Bill, you’ve got first watch, Meri second, me third and Ben last.”

  Bill was disappointed that he and Meri didn’t get to stay up a while
together, but Karen reminded them they still had at least another five days before they crossed through the Strait of Gibraltar. “You’ll have some free time together before then,” she told the two.

  32

  The next morning the crew awoke to colder temperatures than the day before, with a stronger wind from the north. Bill and Meri, sleeping without the benefit of a hammock tent, were awakened by a few fat raindrops hitting them in the face.

  Ben already had breakfast ready, another stew, along with a cup for each of them of the dwindling instant coffee supplies. “Enjoy it while you can,” Karen said, sipping the hot brew.

  After breakfast and once all the equipment was packed and lashed down, they set out for another river that Bill had selected further south along the coast. He explained that it was where Barcelona, Spain, was located on Earth.

  “It’s a full day’s sail, but there’s another river about halfway down if we decide to pull in,” he told them.

  The south wind pushed them along the coastline at a faster rate than the day before, and within thirteen hours they were pulling onto the beach just south of the mouth of the Llobregat River. This time Bill and Meri set up camp and got a fire going while Karen and Ben went hunting. They had seen several geese and ducks on the river, so they were hoping to bag a couple. Both took rifles and Karen carried her PDW.

  It wasn’t long before Bill heard shots from the smaller PDW in the near distance. Fifteen minutes later, Ben and Karen returned to camp carrying two fat geese by the necks.

  Boiling the geese to assist in removing the feathers wasn’t an option with their limited cooking equipment, so Ben and Karen plucked their kill as best they could. They plucked the large tail feathers one by one, pulled out clumps of body feathers with their hands, then used knives to scrape the down off. Bill and Meri collected the tail feathers for use as arrow fletching.

  After plucking, they chopped the heads off with hatchets and gutted the fowl. The two birds were spitted and strung over the fire, which had burned down to coals, though, after supper, the fire would be brought back up to flames to serve as a deterrent to wild predators.

  Meri took over the cooking chores, occasionally turning the spit, keeping the birds cooking evenly. She had made a small brush from some branches, swiping the fat drippings from the bottoms of the birds, before it dripped into the fire, back onto the tops.

  Meanwhile, Karen and Ben elected to wash their soiled undergarments and take rinse showers. After they were done, Karen took over cooking so Bill and Meri could shower. When he was clean, Bill walked along the edge of the beach looking for edible plants. Seaweed was an option, but not his favorite. Eventually, he found some nettle and sorrel. Gathering the nettles was fun (not!), as they caused his hands to sting, but Bill knew that if he moved fast enough back to camp, he would be able to remove the oils from his skin by rubbing them vigorously with sand and his bandana. Goodland had taught them during survival training that the best way to get rid of potential pain from poisonous plants, such as nettles, poison ivy, and poison oak, was to use friction to remove the oils. Nothing else worked as well.

  When he returned to the fire, he separated the leaves from the stems, tossing the leaves into a pot of boiling water that Meri had set up. Knowing what he was up to, she also had a pot of cold water set aside. After a minute, Bill poured the boiling water out, making sure to hold the leaves in the pot with some sticks turned into makeshift tongs. As soon as most of the water was drained, he dumped the leaves into the cold water. Now they were ready to eat.

  To say that supper was a tasty, but greasy affair, was putting it mildly. The food tasted like a gourmet banquet to the hungry crew. Rather than waste soap, though, the four cleaned their hands by rubbing sand on them and then rinsing off.

  As they ate, the four talked. Karen estimated that it would take another nine or ten days to get to Gibraltar at the rate they were going. She told Bill to plan out a route that would allow them to RON at safe harbors with rivers.

  “When we get to the Strait, we’ll spend a few days there hunting and collecting greens. We’ve each got our multivitamins, but I’d like to hold off using those until we have to.

  “Also, let’s see about turning some of the hides into moccasins or sandals. No sense wearing boots on the Guppy and getting them damaged by salt water. And I don’t want people stubbing or breaking toes, either. So, no barefootin’.”

  Once again, Bill and Meri retired to the Guppy while Karen and Ben slept ashore.

  The next nine days were spent sailing down the east and then south coast of the Iberian Peninsula. The first stop was in the large delta of the Ebro River, where they managed to kill several more large waterfowl and repeated the previous night’s feast.

  During the day they would sail and work on projects, such as basket weaving and practicing the art of navigation while sailing.

  At each stop, Bill would tell the others what major city on Earth existed in their RON location. Some of the names were familiar, such as Valencia and Malaga, but most were not. On the seventh night, they stopped in the Andarax River, where the town of Almeria was. Of course, all that existed in Planet 42 was a river, trees, and some tasty goats.

  Bill elected to get some water and took two small pots with him. As he bent over to fill up the first pot, he saw a glitter of something in the shallow riverbed. Looking both ways to ensure nothing was planning on making him a meal, he set the full pot down next to him, reached into the water, and pulled out a heavy rock. It was a small, water-worn gold nugget. He didn’t stare at it too long before he put it in his shirt pocket, filled the second pot and made his way back to the fire.

  Not saying a word to anyone, he put the pots on the fire to boil. Meri was off hunting with Ben this time, so Bill had the opportunity to explain his thoughts to Karen and seek her help in his plan. She wholeheartedly agreed and offered to help, but told him to wait until they got to Gibraltar.

  Finally, they made their last landfall in Eurasia. As they sailed around the Rock of Gibraltar, they stared at it in awe. For the Earthers, it was a place of legend — the gate to the Mediterranean, the place where the Brits held off the Germans during World War II, and a sore point for the Spanish.

  “I thought it was an island,” Ben said, disappointed, as they sailed around it into the Bay of Gibraltar. Despite having been on several surveys, including one other Initial Survey, this was Ben’s first time seeing the Rock.

  Finally, they beached the Guppy at the mouth of a river at the north end of the bay. Karen sent Ben and Bill out hunting while she and Meri set up camp. Bill carried his PDW and rifle while Ben just had a rifle. As always, both men carried all their primary survival equipment, along with their backpacks.

  An hour’s walk upriver yielded numerous rabbits and a couple of wild goats. Both types of meat wound up in the evening’s stew, along with more nettle and sorrel the women had gathered. Not all the goat was used, so the remainder was turned into jerky, with the skins being set aside to make leather. Ben brought the head back this time; usually they left it to save transport weight. This time, however, they needed the brains for tanning the skin to make into leather.

  The next morning Karen sent Ben and Meri on a plant hunt to increase their vitamin C supplies. “Try over on the cliffs,” she said, pointing toward the Rock, which was about eight kilometers distant. “There’s a plant called rock samphire, which is supposedly loaded with it. Take a couple of baskets with you.”

  The baskets were made to be strung across the body from the shoulder and rest on one hip, leaving the back and hands free for other things, such as a backpack and rifle. “We’ll work on tanning these hides and jerking more meat.”

  After the two had left, Karen turned to Bill and said, “I managed to get the size. Now we just need to make a mold and fire it. Did you see any clay in the river when you were hunting yesterday?”

  Bill had, so the two headed off to collect. A short time later they were back in the camp and had molded it in
the proper form. Karen had Bill hide the mold and said, “Let it dry. We’ll finish up tomorrow. In the meantime, let’s get some prep work done.”

  To tan the hides meant scraping all the hair off them, something they had done in survival training. A quick review of their survival books and they were ready to go. The first thing they needed to do was get a smooth log to work over, which necessitated cutting down a small tree, about six inches in diameter, and then peeling the bark off it. Once that was done they laid one end on the canoe and the other on the ground, then draped one of the goat skins on it, hair side up.

  Bill took a block of wood that he had cut from a limb and jammed it on the point of his survival knife, effectively turning it into a drawknife, and used that to scrape all the hair off the goat skin. Turning it over, he fleshed the skin, removing all the excess meat and fat, then repeated the process with the second skin.

  Karen worked the brains of one of the goats into the first skin. She had previously mashed the brains in water, then warmed the mixture over the fire. “We’ll have to all work these once the brains are in,” she told Bill. “We can smoke them tomorrow.”

  It was late afternoon before Meri and Ben returned to camp, baskets stuffed with rock samphire.

  “You were right about this stuff,” Meri said to Karen after giving Bill a quick hello kiss. “It’s all over the cliffs. You want us to go back tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I’d like to see us with as much as possible. I’ll smoke this stuff tomorrow while you’re gathering. Did you find any sea lettuce?”

  Ben replied that they hadn’t even looked, focusing on the rock samphire.

  After breakfast the next morning, Meri and Ben set out again with empty baskets slung over their shoulders. Bill set up racks over the fire to smoke the newly tanned hides. The smoking was the final step in the process. Afterward, they could cut the tanned hides for sandals or moccasins.