The digger machine reversed itself back down the same track it had used on arrival. The lights dropped back into the metal hull as it departed.
Several mutants—Billy included—began to give off light to compensate for the renewed darkness.
“Who’s going to open it?” a voice croaked.
“I will!” she shouted before anyone else could respond.
“Who put you in charge?” another random voice cried out.
There were twenty leaders and five times that of followers. There was no way to establish order or leadership in such a situation. In fact it was a miracle they were talking at all. Each of them would usually fight the others on sight, sometimes for as little as a rotten straw-bomb.
“None of us is in charge,” Shatzi said in a stern voice. “But someone has to open it, and I’m standing right here. I can’t get in and steal it out from under you, can I? We’re the same right now. I merely want to see what’s inside.”
After an initial burst of yelling and confusion, Keller spoke up. “The wolfoids agree. Though we are the rightful owners of this mystery, we allow Shatzi this honor. We shall discuss this again once we see what’s inside.”
That seemed to talk the crowd off the high branch.
She got her first good look at the metal cylinder. It was about three feet across and four or five deep. The lid had a circular handle she recognized as very similar to some of the doors of the ship. She reached down and brushed the remaining dirt from the lid. She read the words as they were exposed.
“Civic Time Capsule. Property of Hawkwood, Missouri City Council. Year—” Shatzi rubbed her fingers on the lid. “The rest of the words have been scraped away by the hook or shovel. I’m sorry,” she said in a loud voice.
“What does that mean?” Keller asked her as if they were the only two there.
She had no idea, but couldn’t admit to not knowing. “It means I’m going to open it.”
Her midsection tensed with anticipation, but the red handle spun with little effort. A brief wheeze escaped as the interior was exposed to the air. The lid stayed on the cylinder but slid sideways, so the cargo was accessible.
Collectively, the audience gasped even though only a few in the front could see. She laughed inwardly at that seemingly automatic response.
Keller reached in and pulled out the first item. He held the little piece of plastic so Shatzi could read the words written on the outside to everyone else.
“It says ‘Congratulations on the purchase of your new starship’ in strange letters. I can barely read them.” Keller popped it open to reveal a silver disc. Another scrawl of letters had been written on it. She read that, too. “This round thing says ‘Extra copy of the ship’s manual’ with a smiley face next to it.”
Keller snorted in disgust and threw it aside. He put his paws back into the container and pulled out hundreds of little rectangles of paper, some in big bundles tied with twine. She’d never seen so much paper in one place. Her tribe sometimes used pieces of dried reeds to put down important notes, but this was a true treasure.
She grabbed one bundle and read the handwritten note attached. “Letters to the Aliens,” she called out.
Keller grabbed it out of her hands and chucked it with anger. “Trash!”
He dove back in, this time nearly falling all the way inside. He tossed out armfuls of papers and stuff without so much as a glance at them. More discs came out. A little yellow duck. A fancy pair of red boots. Lots of little things she couldn’t identify. But none of it was stuff her peers recognized, either.
“Is there a laser pistol?”
“What colors are the wrist bands?”
“I need a Medical Healer to save my master!”
Soon the rambunctious treasure-seekers shouted out the names of every item they could think of. It was a veritable who’s who and what’s what of things she’d found and searched for in the Middle Grounds since she was a kid.
“Enough!” she yelled. The emotion was also broadcast on her mental frequency but seemed to have twice the power it normally did. She attributed it to the larger than expected number of mutants around her. A feedback loop of some kind.
But her voice was also very loud, so the crowd shut up.
At that moment, Keller used both hands to pull out a large metallic orb. The futuristic device had a faint glow to it, making it the most interesting piece of treasure he’d found.
He set it on the lid, so it was on a flat surface. The crowd pressed in to watch.
“This is what we came for,” he gushed.
As soon as the wolfoid set it down, its glow grew stronger. A white beam shot straight up a few feet and spread out to form a large rectangle of light in thin air.
An image of a human woman appeared, and Shatzi identified her as a pure blood. The picture showed her face smiling at the camera. Her dull blue eyes and muted golden hair gave her the appearance of a particularly ugly specimen.
Everyone took a step back when the human woman spoke.
“Hello, Michael. It’s Mo. My father said it was okay to put this into the time capsule even though I know I won’t, uh, be around by the time you get this.” She giggled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry how things ended with us. I wanted to go with you—I really, truly, did. But the Warden demanded too much for my passage.”
The woman sighed heavily.
“But I don’t want to spend my last message across time just to complain like a jealous schoolgirl. I want you to have the two things I’ve included in this stasis sphere. Daddy paid good money to build it for me.” She laughed, this time with a little more sincerity.
The covering of the orb peeled back and fell away as if on command. That caused another collective gasp, though for a slightly better reason. There was a neat stack of golden coins about six inches high next to some kind of—
Keller yelped with happiness.
“Daddy said I’m wasting my time sending money, but he admitted that if this reaches you when you come out of cryo, the inflation will drive the worth of these gold coins to a point you’ll be able to buy the whole ship. That assumes you don’t wake up into some kind of post-apocalyptic nightmare, like those holos you like to watch.” Her laughter was full and rich.
The image slowly panned out around her head and chest. Shatzi still wasn’t impressed, but at least it gave her a better idea of the ancient species. Her hair was curvy and fell in waves to her shoulders. The strange woman had no braid, but the locks were otherwise well-groomed, which counted for a lot.
“The real reason I can’t come with you breaks my heart to say out loud. I didn’t lie when I told you I failed my medical test. But I don’t have Busker’s Disease. I just made that up. I—”
She looked off to the side and then spoke to the camera. “Pan wide. Full body.”
The view widened, so the woman was in the frame from head-to-toes.
“I can’t say it, but I can show you, Michael. I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you, but I didn’t want you to stay. You’ve worked your whole life to reach the stars, and you’d never forgive me if I kept you here. But don’t worry for me, I’ll be dust by the time you get this. At least we’ll be together for this instant when you open my surprise.”
She nodded to the camera and picked up the item now sitting in front of all of them.
“This birthday cake has a single candle ready for you when you awaken and dig this up. Remember us, won’t you? Who knows? Our grandchildren may follow the Warden and meet you. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” She seemed to stare off to the side of the camera but caught herself. “Anyway, just before the candle burns out it will flare a color—blue for boy or pink for girl. That’s how you’ll know your baby, my darling. That’s how you’ll know.”
The woman in the picture was now full screen. Her stomach was huge! She wasn’t just pregnant but very near to popping. She wore a sash with the words “4H County Fair Queen.” Her long legs stuck out below a red drape-like covering not un
like the wrap Shatzi wore around her own waist.
“I wanted to come with you, Michael, but I couldn’t give it up. Not even for such a grand adventure. Be happy in the stars,” the woman declared.
The image shut off and the hush of the crowd surprised her. A split second later, the little stick pointing out of the “birthday cake” sparked up and burned. That gave her an opportunity to scan the crowd as her team’s protector. Far to the back, she saw dark shapes of hovering metal robots as well as floating apparitions of men and women in flowing coverings. Other “normal” mutants in the crowd clutched their weapons in front of them as if to shield themselves from the main attraction.
It was fear, yes, but no one dared look away.
The candle burned brightly for a good minute. In that time, the crowd seemed to fade. The noise dwindled to silence, and the artificial lights went out as everyone held their breath. She thought she felt Billy brush her leg, but even his glow had dimmed to nothing. Everything in existence was gone but the little burning stick and the round white frosted “cake.”
She fanned her stomach as she did a lot lately. It was more than a nervous twitch, she realized after seeing the woman called Mo. All the signs had been there as she walked the day away with her friends. Her uncontrolled feelings for Portus. The vomiting. The wonky state of her mind. The additive power of her mental wave—someone very close had assisted her on that.
The candle burned down to a nub, and the crowd tilted forward. By some magical agreement among foes, everyone set aside their differences so they could see the result firsthand. The woman from the past had devised this little trap long ago and they wanted to see it get sprung.
The color flared its answer, flickered out, and left them all in complete darkness.
In that instant she knew the gender of two babies.
I’m having a girl.
Knowledge was half of victory in the Warden. She was now fighting for two. Her baby added to her mental strength, and together they harnessed precognition to see a few seconds in the future.
Run, Mother! Run!
Shatzi jumped to action slightly before the robot’s lasers began their deadly march into the outer ring of treasure seekers.
***
Her first instinct was to save herself—and her daughter—but her training was able to stifle that biological imperative. Long experience, as much as her look-ahead ability, pointed her to a more practical solution for survival.
“My people! To Jaz!” she screamed over the rising chaos.
Billy appeared in a literal flash, as his glowing skin and fast-moving body skittered to a stop almost underneath the large bear. Tiam hadn’t even moved. He leaned against Jaz’s rump, waiting for her instructions. It was another proud moment.
“I’ve got another huge surprise for you all, but you have to make it home alive before I’ll tell you.” Her smile was grim and forced. The flash of laser beams cut through the darkness like strobes, adding to her anxiety. She sensed their urge to run, but they trusted her.
They all nodded, and Jaz added, “Let’s do this.”
“Okay, I’m going to send out a message to our, ah, allies, around us. We have to organize, at least for ten seconds. That’s the only way,” Shatzi said with urgency.
They didn’t ask questions.
She remembered the feeling of goodwill and kinship she’d felt with the creatures around her as the cake light burned down. She dipped into the positive vibes she experienced when leaving her village. It was useful to harness those shades of psychic energy and forge them like hard metal into the battle strategy she was about to release.
A wet howl cut above all the other commotion. The robots and higher-level beings drove their weapons deeper into the pack of lesser mutants.
“I hope this works,” she mumbled to herself.
It will, Momma. I promise.
She closed her eyes and launched the mental call to arms. It was an open broadcast, but she had no fear it would be blocked. Not when it was assisted and doubled by her little girl. A bright guiding image blasted into the minds of everyone now under attack.
Run this way! Follow me to safety!
As one, many of the beasts and mutants stopped their random flights of fright and ran together in the direction of their temporary leader. At eight feet she was among the tallest and was easy to follow, and she’d lifted Billy to her shoulders as extra insurance.
“Light the way, Billy!” Shatzi cried out.
He glowed like a tiny star.
Shatzi sprinted back down the tracks of the digger. They reached the line of robots and higher beings blocking their escape, and the runners around her swarmed toward that exact point. Though the robots possessed deadly lasers and slicers, there were only a few of them. By massing together, her mutant allies managed to swamp them at the breakout point.
One of the floating women in league with the robots was attacked by a little jaguar. Her translucent robes blew behind her as she screamed and kicked at the animal hanging from her ankle. Seconds later she snapped out of existence, and the jaguar dropped a few feet onto the ground. Unlike their metal friends, she and her kind seemed less inclined to fight, or die.
It took Shatzi a few seconds to re-orient on the last metal bot in front of her. She cheered as Keller and his clan cut away at it. They had little metal torches—contraband, for sure—and made short work of the machine. It whined briefly, then shut down. A more distant unit was covered in flashes of electricity. The croak-speak of the froggies gave her a hint of who’d shut that one off.
The rest of her allies ran by and burst out of the trap on their way to freedom. She stood aside and waved them on, though a few stayed behind to delay the robotic sentinels. It was true heroism she’d never seen from such a diverse group of Eighters.
“Come on,” Jaz said as she nudged her. “Don’t get mushy on us. We’re not home, yet.”
It was true. It was the middle of the night cycle, and she was far from Portus and their shared bough. The robots might follow, but she didn’t think it likely. The chase would drain their batteries before they caught a fraction of the crowd. Funny they showed up at the one place everyone had gathered together …
The buzz of lasers indicated there was still some resistance at the time capsule, but she fought the urge to go back and help. Those brave souls gave her and the rest of them the time to escape. She had to honor that sacrifice by saving herself. There would be other missions. Other chances for revenge against those possessing such advanced weaponry. Opportunities to learn if this was an act of treachery.
Are we safe? I’m tired, Mommy.
We’re safe, my little pumpcorn. You can sleep, now.
Billy turned off his ambient glow, and she transferred him to Jaz’s shoulders. His little duffel sagged and jangled with treasure, though she pretended not to notice.
Tiam was already on the bear’s back. Not a word of complaint from anyone.
The flashes and pops of the battle dwindled to almost nothing far behind them.
Shatzi couldn’t help but think of the young mother. “I wonder what happened to Mo. Do you think she was happy staying behind?”
“Sure. Her life had to be better than Michael’s. He never knew he had a daughter,” Jaz replied.
“He never knew he was rich with those coins,” Billy laughed.
“He missed out knowing his family,” Shatzi said with sadness.
Billy nudged her from Jaz’s back. “Let’s forget about what could have been, boss,” he said. “I’m more interested in your huge surprise.”
She secretly rubbed her belly in a moment of reflection. Everything on Level 8 was changing. Her team. Her allies. Her family. Even her enemies. And her baby was going to be big news when she got home. A gift for her husband, if ever there was one. She’d finally tell her friends the very next moment after Portus. Tears formed as she imagined how everyone would react.
Shatzi shoved the sentiment away, as any leader must while in the field
. The cooperation of the other escaped mutants was probably fleeting. There was much hostile ground to cover. The robots might have extra batteries. Who knows?
She silently thanked Mo, the woman from the past, for bringing her life together.
Mo?
I like that name, mommy, her groggy daughter replied.
With a smile and a guiding wave, she beckoned her party.
“Then let’s go home. Mo has one more surprise to share.”
E.E. Isherwood
E.E. Isherwood is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse series. His long-time fascination with the end of the world blossomed decades ago after reading the 1949 classic Earth Abides. He enjoys writing about characters faced with societal collapse, global plagues, and other world-altering events.
Isherwood lives in St. Louis, Missouri with his wife and family. He stays deep in a bunker with steepled fingers, always awaiting the arrival of the first wave of zombies.
Find him online at www.zombiebooks.net.
The Greyness
By Scott King
Chapter 1: Judgment
The irises of Bekka’s double-pupiled eyes overlapped, like a single egg, cracked and revealed to have two yolks. Her upper pupils dilated, while her lower ones stayed small, allowing her see in a more dynamic range in the dimly lit room. It wasn’t much of an advantage, but when it came to manipulating the gambling table, any advantage was a bonus.
In almost slow motion she watched as the chubby pureblood across the table brushed the side of his forehead with the back of his pointer finger, clearing away a bit of sweat.
“I’m crossing the stream.” Bekka thwacked her knuckles on the rusted table. What the House Felton Casino lacked in extravagance of decor it made up for with deep pockets. There wasn’t another gambling hole in the city where the bets could be unlimited. It was also the only building that never suffered from a power surges or brownouts, which meant the gambling never ended. “Either break the dam or build a bridge, ‘cause I’m coming.”
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