Queasy chuckled. "Well, just like Intellulka helped your parents extend their mind control, he trained me to increase my brain power. Thankfully, he also taught me techniques to develop a photographic memory."
Grabbing another book, Queasy opened it. "My old tutor showed me how to assimilate a snapshot of a page at a time, instead of reading a word or sentence. What takes most people an hour to absorb, I can finish in five minutes, and while many only remember 30 to 50 percent of the material they read, I retain 80 to 90 percent."
Teli raised his scalpel from the croaker. "That's why you're so quick to flip pages. I always wondered."
Queasy smiled. "As fast as I am, you ain't seen nothing like the professor before he died. I sure miss the old man."
"That's funny; that's what Father calls him. Whenever he, Aunt Mercy, and Storm share stories, he's always saying, 'Old Man this, and Old Man that.' Storm, on the other hand, uses more clever nicknames."
Queasy laughed. "Yep, that's Storm alright. By the way, how did your mental exercises with your sister and the others turn out yesterday?"
"Mostly, it was fun with a bit of touch-and-go." Teli cocked his head.
"But there was a second when I thought Proto was going to let the bears eat Fox. One thing's for sure: between what Caru and Proto did, I wouldn't want to be the one washing Fox's underwear. It couldn't have been a pretty sight!"
"Eeew, that sounds nasty! Hey, are you kids still taking that supplement every day to improve your brain's activity?"
"Yeah — unfortunately. That weird reddish-green color is bad enough, but it also tastes disgusting! Fox said it best. He calls it his daily potion of awgful!" The scientist-in-training shuddered.
Queasy wouldn't argue with that assessment or the catchy name. Just a spoonful of the powder from the bitter awgmira and fulmeny roots made him gag every night.
He picked up a pad of paper from his desk. "Hey, before I forget, some large trade wagons are arriving next week. With Ukkiville growing so fast, we need more solar panels, windmills, and pumps."
Queasy flashed a list of parts at Teli. "I could use a few supplies. You wanna help me look?"
"You bet — I love scavenging!"
"Then, it's a plan!"
Queasy walked toward the dining room. "Blazes, I can hardly breathe with that formaldehyde you're using."
Pushing aside the heavy, blue drapes, he lifted a window. "Let's get some fresh air in here."
He opened the back door and returned to his desk to review a report of the monster fish. The confirmed muclone with mutated DNA of a sturgeon and a porpoise triggered memories of his remarkable mentor.
He turned toward his friend. "Why did your parents name you Intelluk?"
Teli laughed. "According to my father, when I was young I used to catch insects, even small rodents. I would study them for hours, like Father's tutor used to do with muclones. He called me 'Little Intellulka' until I was five. Mother finally agreed 'Intelluk' was the perfect fit. My father says it helps him remember one of the smartest men he ever knew, next to Grandpa Odinuk."
Walking across the living room, the student pulled up a chair and sat near Queasy. "That's why they asked you to let me learn by your side for much of the last few years. Will you tell me about Intellulka — what he knew of the Old World and its transformation into the world we live in today?"
"Wow, those are big questions. Where do I begin?" Queasy rubbed his temple with his index finger.
"Certainly, he was the most intelligent person I've ever come across. He was born in the 1990s, and his real name was Tyler Luca during the time he lived in the Old United States. The old man..."
He scratched his chin. "...I guess he really was a young man back then when he learned to be an engineer and scientist."
Queasy reached behind him and grabbed a framed photo from a shelf. He tapped a thin person's image. "This was him with his closest friends, Jacob and Cassie. They actually predicted the events that led to the World Annihilation Period before the synchronized strike against the Old Western world began in 2019."
Pausing, he probed his memories. "According to Intellulka, the earliest stages of a global financial crisis were mainly caused by unfavorable demographics. At that point in history, the average population of the more developed countries was aging and requiring fewer goods and services.
"Deteriorating demand hurt the old financial powerhouses of China, Europe, and the United States as early as 2008 and again between 2017 and 2018. To prop up flailing economies, governments, companies, and households they borrowed far too much leading to historical debt levels.
"Then things fell apart — big time. Around 2018, such old countries as Spain, Portugal, and Italy followed Greece's footsteps and defaulted on their debt. Most global assets, including stocks and bonds, plummeted as much as 60 to 80% from their highs. Even real estate, considered a bastion of savings for many investors, collapsed."
He glanced at his apprentice. Teli looks tired.
Queasy peered into his friend's droopy, dark brown eyes. "I'm not boring you, am I? Stay awake; this is important!"
Teli slowly shook his head. "I just didn't get enough sleep. Keep going; it's fairly interesting. I'll take in as much as I can."
"Okay, there's only a little more. Much of the Western world suffered the greatest. Their populations had become dependent on a more exuberant way of life than other less-developed countries. Severely weakened and with most leaders focused on improving their economies to quell rebellious stirrings, they took their eyes off potential attacks from foreign soils.
"Decades earlier, the old countries of Russia, China, and Iran had already infiltrated the Western world's control systems, readying to take over prior to the strike. 'Hacking' is what Intellulka called it."
Queasy lowered his head. "That's when it happened."
His assistant's eyes swelled. "What?"
"I know you've probably heard some of this in school, but here's the old man's story. First, the rogue countries took over Western world financial systems and emptied the accounts of governments, corporations, and individuals using passwords they had collected for years."
"Wait, what's a password?"
"Think of it as a secret code they used to control who could access things on what they called a 'computer' back then."
"Oh, okay. Go ahead."
"Then, these rogue countries and the most dangerous terrorist groups staged a coordinated strike on Easter Sunday of 2019. For weapons, they synchronized the detonation of portable nuclear bombs and electromagnetic pulse generators — EMPs as Intellulka referred to them. These were transported by rental trucks and small flying machines, called drones, to strategic spots to do the greatest harm and damage.
"The points of attack included critical government, utility, and financial locations. During the explosions in the wee hours that Easter morning, all technological advances and electronic devices were permanently disabled — 'fried' you might say — by massive electromagnetic shocks."
"Wicked!" Teli leaned forward. "Tell me more! How, specifically, did the electro-whatchamacallit destroy the technology?"
Leaning back in his chair, Queasy rested his hands behind his head. "That's for another discussion at a different time. We've got equipment to repair."
He motioned toward a table, strewn with generator parts from a broken-down windmill. "But, I'll finish with this. In those forgotten years, people talked to each other around the world with hand-held devices which communicated through satellites orbiting the earth. They also watch events taking place in different parts of the globe through something called a TV."
Waving his finger, he continued. "Governments knew people's locations, their discussions and plans, and could even control services and military actions with devices referred to as computers and smartphones. Two of the more essential technologies, electrical stations and grids, powered these devices and such things they called refrigerators, heaters, air conditioners, and lights in every home across mo
st countries."
Queasy spread his arms wide. "That was the Old World in which Intellulka lived, and all of it was destroyed in the blink of an eye!"
He stared at his helper. "And that, my dear friend, is why we exist in a primitive world today."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Prick of Death
Friday ~ July 10, 2093 ~ 11:30 am
A mile from the cluster of cabins where her family and friends lived, Caru rode alongside Proto on their young mares. "I couldn't get Teli to spit out the seeds about the kitty from hell."
Her buddy scrunched his brow. "What do you mean?"
"The skinny runt wouldn't tell me how Queasy fared getting that demon-cat from the log — only that he wasn't too happy with me."
Proto chuckled. "I just wish I'd been there to watch. It's not the first time someone's been mad at you. Besides, Queasy's Queasy; he'll get over it."
Always the protectors, Chili and Ice trailed closely behind. As they approached the village's drawbridge, Caru gently pulled on the reins. "Whoa, Cocoa."
Her horse slowed to a halt as she turned in her saddle. "I can't wait to hear what Brainy discovered about that acid-spitting feline."
Proto firmly tugged on the straps. "Hold on, Grace."
When his silvery-gray mare stopped, he squared around toward Caru. "I still think we should have told your father. He'll be angry at both of us if he finds out."
"Oh, you're such a worry wart. Come on; let's get the scoop from Queasy."
She softly snapped the reins. Alright, let's see if this silly horse gets over that bridge. For the first time ever, her steed trudged across the oak planks without the slightest hesitation.
"That's the girl, Cocoa! Way to go!"
Chatter filled the air upon entering the bustling village. Like most of Earth's inhabitants, her neighbors had become accustomed to the primitive lifestyle over many years since the World Annihilation Period.
Bouncing in her saddle, she studied one side, then the other. Farmers and traders bartered fresh produce, furs, and other wares in the open square to her right.
Caru's mouth watered as she contemplated the plump, red strawberries and juicy watermelons on display. Further ahead, the trickle of Dream Creek piqued her ears. While winding along the brook's path through Ukkiville, she observed workers placing rafters on top of the new mill.
Two of the younger, bronzed-backed boys sawing boards nearby caught Caru's eye. There's a couple of hunks! Look at those muscles! The carpenters continued their tasks while they glimpsed at her and smiled.
Pretending not to notice, she stared at Proto's sleeveless arms. His bulging biceps were plenty big but white as snow except the tips of his shoulders, which grew pinker as the summer days passed.
Upstream along the water's edge, taps of hammers broke through the noise. Another crew jockeyed logs in position along the wall for the new granary.
More pounding from the schoolyard down the road spiked her ears. Caru twisted toward Proto. "Hey, maybe we'll get lucky, and they won't complete the expansion by the time classes start again."
He laughed. "Wishful thinking. That ain't going to happen."
When they reached Queasy's cabin, Caru and her friend dismounted and walked up the front steps. She rapped her knuckles against the thick wooden door. "Brainy, open up! What did you find out about that kitten?"
Queasy's voice from inside squeaked. "Hang on, Taz; I'll be right there." The door knob turned, and two faces appeared — her twin and the cabin's owner.
She glanced at Teli. "Are you sure you're my little brother and not his?" She tilted her head toward his mentor.
"Stop calling me 'little brother!' You're only 13 minutes older than me."
"That's right, but to be honest, I'm not sure you are my brother. As a matter of fact, I'm confident you were adopted. Seems you spend your whole existence with IQ-man here." She motioned toward the scientist in his mid-thirties with russet hair, disheveled like twigs sticking out of a bird's nest.
Teli's face lit up. "You bet! I enjoy my time here. We're similar in many ways. Queasy's smart, knows science, and understands me. He might be a bit wobbly around blood, but that's where I fit in!"
Caru waved her hand. "Ah, enough of your rambling. I want to know about that killer kitten."
She spun toward Queasy. "What did you learn, and why do you keep calling me 'Taz' lately?"
He smiled. "Do you know what a Tasmanian devil is?"
"Yeah, so what?"
"Well, that's you: wild, relentless, and crazy! You're definitely Taz! Besides, you're always giving everybody else nicknames."
"Mmm." She scratched her scalp. "Not bad; I kinda like it!"
Queasy stepped aside. "You might as well come on in — unless you mean to kill me."
Caru chuckled as she held her hand out toward the pets. "Stay!" Both creamy white protectors plopped across the porch.
Looking directly at Caru, Queasy grinned. "By the way, you just missed your father. He was here earlier and none too happy that you hadn't mentioned the kitten. In fact, you might say he was pissed."
Proto shot a glare at her. "Now you've done it. What your father knows, my mom knows."
He shook his head. "Mom's probably already mad at me! Great."
"Well, don't your moccasins smell like roses? Quit your bellyaching!" Caru grumbled. "It's not the first time you've been in trouble — won't be the last."
"That's the problem. Trouble clings to you like a spider web and everybody around you gets caught in it!"
Queasy raised his arm. "Enough of the fighting!"
Caru pivoted toward him. "Alright. What's the scoop on the freaked-out feline?"
"First of all, I want to thank you for sending me out there to get that psycho-cat. It was impossible to coax it out of that log without it spraying us. Teli and I ended up smoking it out but not before it singed my finger." He lifted his wrapped pinkie.
"I tranquilized it, and once we got the kitten back here to the lab, I started my investigation. It must be in constant agony. The mouth's insides have been cauterized by the caustic chemicals. Not only the spray, but everything it eats is covered with harsh acids. That's why its mouth and tongue are black and tough like pigskin. The poor creature's intestines must be burning up as well."
He peered into the cage holding the ragged feline. "The tormented beast cries all night from the pain. It would be best if I euthanize it."
"Kill it?" Caru paused and lowered her eyes. "I guess you're right. Go ahead, do it. Put the thing out of its misery before anyone else gets hurt."
She scanned the place. "Why was my father here this morning?"
Queasy grabbed a worn pamphlet with tattered pages full of scribbles. "Thoruk said he had a dream about muclones and was checking to see if there had been any other reports. You know — weird concoctions like that part-sturgeon, part-porpoise monster you hooked. When I showed him the kitten, he asked who brought it in."
She stomped her foot. "Crap sandwich! Father has a dream immediately after we find the darn varmint."
Teli looked at his sister. "Someone's definitely cloning mutants again. So far it's just been mammals, fish, and maybe an insect but we know from previous experience, anything goes, including reptiles and plant life."
Queasy flipped a couple of sheets in his journal. "I haven't determined exactly what creature's DNA was mutated with the kitten. I've narrowed it down to a bombardier beetle species which sprays a painful mix of chemicals from it posterior, or to some other animal with venom. It's most likely the beetle, given the acid-like damage to the victims' skin. The segmented eyes are another reliable indicator of insect DNA."
Turning a page, he gleaned his notes. "The kitten also had an extended nub protruding from each shoulder; probably a carryover DNA strand from the beetle's wings. It must have been slipped in with the rest of the litter since its DNA structure isn't aligned with Snuffy or her offspring."
Queasy held up a sheet of paper with bold letters across the
top. "Your father is going to ask Wolfuk to post these muclone warnings on the trees around the area, asking people to report possible sightings to me."
"Does Father think it's the Skalags again?"
"He advised me not to jump to conclusions until we know the facts."
Proto rubbed a scar on his forearm like he always did when puzzled. "Skalags? I haven't heard that name in a long time, not since Mom told us stories of past battles. Are they still around?"
Queasy retrieved a syringe from a shelf. "Most likely. Thoruk is going to check with Wolfuk to find out what he knows."
Proto wrinkled his nose. "Why Wolfuk?"
"Whenever our leader wants the scoop on our enemies, he seeks our master of arms. Wolfuk is Ukkiville's best scout."
The scientist filled the syringe with a clear, green liquid. "Now help me put this crazed cat out of its misery."
Later That Day ~ 1:30 pm
Caru urged Fox to join her and Proto for lunch near the edge of Porcupine Forest, a few miles southwest of Ukkiville. After finishing the last of her ham sandwich, she mounted Cocoa. "Let's work out at our favorite spot."
Oh no, I just used the same line Father says when he wants to exercise. I must be getting old. I can't believe he still jogs with Mercy and Storm at their age.
Once her cousins climbed their horses, Caru coaxed her steed to a trot into the shadow of the woods a little ahead of Proto and Fox. She glanced back, half expecting to see the pets.
Ah, that's right. We left them at home. They'd get bored anyway.
Caru looked at her fellow adventurers. "I don't think Wolfuk will be at the training camp. He'll be posting those warning signs. I also overheard Father mention that Wolfy would be away for a while. I don't know where or why, but he's certainly not going to be around today."
With his eyes darting from one side to the other as if in search of the grim reaper, Fox squirmed in his saddle. "Should we be out here with mukes lurkin' about these days? From the stories Pa told me as a kid, they're purdy ferocious. Maybe we should have brought Chili and Ice after all."
The New World: Blue Moon Generatoin Page 4