The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set

by D J Edwardson

  The thick steam wafted gently into his nostrils. The sensation of the vapor tendrils winding their way along his skin proved an enjoyable novelty. The steam carried a musky, but pleasant smell. He closed his eyes to savor the experience.

  “The smell is nice, eh? But you’re supposed to actually drink it,” Will said playfully. “It will jaunt your juice, I guarantee it.” Will tipped his own container once again into his mouth, as if to reassure Adan it was safe.

  Adan still wasn’t exactly sure why he would ever need to put something inside his mouth—and the prospect of doing so was both odd and a bit frightening—how would he breathe? But the smell of whatever was inside had a strangely enticing effect. It hadn’t done any harm to Will. Perhaps it was worth a try? He worked up his courage and slowly brought the container to his lips. Before he could change his mind, he tipped it back into his mouth and let what was inside come rushing in.

  At first, the liquid felt like pure heat, but soon it began to thicken. The taste was overwhelming, causing the back of his tongue to tingle as the atol pushed further in. Then came a moment of panic. The liquid was cutting off his flow of air. He couldn’t breathe. He had to get it out at once or risk suffocation.

  “Swallow,” Will urged, as Adan started to gag.

  He didn’t understand what Will meant, but somehow his throat took over and finished the job for him. The liquid went down with a sudden, if awkward, gulp, followed by a fit of coughing.

  “So you don’t like my cooking, eh?” Will clapped him on the back as Adan struggled to clear his throat.

  “No, it was…fine,” Adan said between coughs, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

  Will reached over and pulled the top off another barrel.

  “Here, let me show you how I make it. You’ll enjoy this.” This time he grabbed a tarnished piece of metal from inside the barrel. Little bigger than his hand, it consisted of several cylinders fused together in an odd arrangement. There were grooves, projections, and bumps all over it.

  “That’s okay,” Adan said, his coughs subsiding. “You don’t have to—”

  “See this? There are things like this scattered all across the desert. I scavenge them whenever I get the chance. These three barrels are full of junk just like this.” He rifled through them, plucking out a few more pieces of equally bizarre design. “This stuff looks pretty much useless and it would be if not for this—” He turned, dropping the metal components on top of a barrel and making his way back towards the shelter. The room lit up briefly as he searched for something inside.

  Adan’s throat had finally settled down from the atol. He was curious as to how Will made it, but he was more curious what Will knew about the Institute. Why had he brought him here? Did he know about Adan’s past?

  Will doused the light and closed the door again, bright eyes brimming as he made his way back. In one hand he carried a thick gray metal tube. Tucked under his opposite arm was a galvanized black box.

  “This is one of my most prized possessions.” Will beamed, holding out the box towards Adan. “Go on, grab hold of it. It won’t hurt you.”

  Adan hesitated. If this was something important, he did not want to break it. But Will insisted, so he grasped it with both hands.

  It had a solid feel to it, and it was in far better condition than anything else Adan had seen in the compound. A wide, circular opening dominated the top and a round knob jutted out to the left of that. Above the knob, two small pieces of glass were embedded in the surface. One was small and square shaped, the other long and rectangular. A short, squat cylinder, covered by a cap, projected out from the side.

  “It’s called a shifter,” Will said. “This is what I use to make water and just about everything else I need. Without this, I couldn’t survive out in the Vast. It converts inorganic materials into raw elements or compounds. You control the end result by pressing once on this knob to start the sequence and then you move the dial until you see the code for the element you want on this little screen above it.”

  Will demonstrated each step as he spoke. A series of glowing blue letters sped by on the square piece of glass as he turned the dial, finally stopping with the letter ‘H’. He pressed the button twice and now an ‘H2’ appeared on the rectangular glass panel in neon green lettering. Dialing the button again, he flipped through more letters, this time stopping on the letter ‘O’. He pressed the dial once more and this letter was added to the previous expression, so that it now read ‘H2O’. Adan was surprised that he recognized the shapes as letters but he wasn’t sure exactly what they meant.

  “You see?” Will said, “I dialed in the chemical code for water. If you dial up something non-existent, the letters of the sign will turn red and it won’t convert anything at all. And if you dial up something harmful or dangerous the letters will turn yellow.”

  Will reached down and grabbed one of the metal pieces of scrap. “But first, I’ve got to make the plugs.”

  “What are plugs?” Adan asked, setting the shifter gently down on the ground.

  “That’s the raw material we’ll feed into the shifter.”

  Will picked up the metal tube he had brought along and slid his right arm into it. It completely engulfed his hand going almost up to the elbow, like a sleeve. It had several yellow crystal panels running along its length and two short prongs jutting out from the end where Will’s hand should have been, like thin, metallic fingers.

  A short, triangular beam of yellow-white energy shot out from the prongs. It looked like a diamond-shaped sliver of light suspended on the end of his arm.

  “This is a cutter,” Will said, his face lit up by the brightness. “I use it to make the plugs. Like this—”

  He grabbed one of the pieces of scrap he had pulled out earlier and used the slice of light to divide it into four smaller pieces. The diamond-shaped beam passed through the metal like it was passing through air. He rotated the pieces around several times, cutting off any extruding edges so that they became roughly spherical in shape. Each plug was about half the size of the palm of his hand. The cutter operated silently; the only noise made during the work came from the repositioning of the scraps on top of the barrel.

  Adan was shocked at how powerful the thin beam of light was.

  “Aren’t you worried you might cut yourself?” he asked. Will had come dangerously close to catching his opposite hand in the light several times.

  “No, it’s perfectly safe,” he said, and to demonstrate he ran his free hand through the beam several times without effect. “It only cuts through inorganic material. You want to try it?”

  Adan quietly shook his head. Even if it wasn’t dangerous, he worried he might mess up the work. He preferred to sit back and watch.

  “Maybe another time,” Will said, going back to work on the other pieces of scrap. He soon had a dozen or so plugs resting on top of the nearby barrel. He slid the cutter off his arm and picked up one of the round chunks he had made.

  “The shifter can only process small amounts at a time and a lot of what is shifted is lost in the process, but it’s still a pretty useful piece of equipment for something so primitive.”

  Will took the shifter and sat it down in front of Adan, placing it upright. He swiped his fingers around the opening on top and the cover slid away. After he touched the knob, the ring around the opening glowed with a neon-green light. Grabbing a metal plug, he dropped it in where it disappeared without a sound. The light of the ring turned bright red for a moment before switching back to green again. Will repeated this procedure with each of the plugs until all of them were inside the device.

  When the ring went green after the last chunk went down, he unscrewed the cap on the side and air hissed out briefly. He picked up the shifter and walked over to retrieve another plastic container like the ones he had used for the atol. He tipped the black box and poured out a clear, colorless liquid into the cylinder. Even in the dim light it glistened beautifully as it splashed into the receptacle. When it was nearl
y full, Will put the container to his lips and took a few gulps of the new liquid.

  He handed the container to Adan. “It’s not atol—it’s water. This will go down much easier.”

  Adan hesitated. “I thought you were showing me how to make the hot stuff—the atol.”

  “Well, I have to make the water first. The ingredients have to be made one at a time and I figured you might want to try a little of this for now.”

  Adan raised his hand unenthusiastically and grasped the tumbler. He tipped the container ever so slightly so that some of the liquid trickled onto the surface of his lips. The feel of it was instantly dazzling and invigorating. It felt as if his lips were soaking it up, inflating from the sheer pleasure of it. The atol had been warm and thick and swam into his mouth so suddenly that it had frightened him, but this—this was totally different.

  He lifted up his chin and tried to mentally trace the dribble of water while it slipped over his lips, along his tongue, and towards the back of his mouth. As before, when it got near his throat, his anxieties flared. But just as he feared he might gag again, the first drop hit the back of his throat and vanished. Each successive drop did the same thing until, just like that, the water was gone.

  “You see, compa,” Will said, smiling, “it’s not as hard as you thought.”

  Adan smiled back. He liked this man. And he liked his water. Adan had known what water was, but never thought it was something people would drink. He’d never even thought about drinking before. But it felt surprisingly natural once he gave it a try. He tipped the cup back even further, finally taking a full-fledged drink. Again, without knowing exactly how it happened, he swallowed the liquid in a single gulp.

  Smiling even more broadly, Adan voiced a brief, “Thank you,” before lifting the container up for another drink and then another. He downed the rest of the water in no time at all. With each sip, a new sensation grew inside of him.

  “Could you make some more?” he asked eagerly. “I’m starting to feel…”

  “Thirsty?” Will smiled broadly. “I’ll get right on it.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “It’s no problem, compa. It won’t take but a moment.” Will stepped toward the barrels to get some more scrap.

  “What does that word mean—‘compa’?” Adan asked.

  Will stopped and turned where he stood.

  “It’s a word the desert people use. It means ‘friend’.”

  Desert people? So there were more people out here? Was this where Adan was from? He was tempted to follow up with that very question, but something in Will’s reply gave him pause.

  Adan was still finding out who this man was, but he hoped Will wasn’t just using the word ‘compa’ as a habit of speech. Because in that moment Adan realized that the need to have someone he could call a friend was greater than even this new feeling of thirst welling up inside of him. He desperately needed someone to let him know that things would turn out all right, that he’d find out who he was in the end. Life in the Institute had been sterile, pointless, demoralizing. He had been surrounded by people who cared nothing about him. Now, despite the harsh climate and his still swirling uncertainties, life in the Vast offered hope. Hope that maybe his life had a purpose after all.

  Seven

  Making Char

  While Will carved up plugs for the shifter, the winds outside the compound murmured threateningly. Adan had yet to see what it was like out there, but the prospect of opening the ever-quivering door made him more than a little nervous.

  “Does it storm here often?” Adan asked.

  “More days than not,” Will said. “Some of the desert folk say they’re caused by ‘sand demons’. But it’s really just the atmosphere and the lack of moisture on the surface.”

  “Are there many people living out here?”

  “It’s hard to say. I’ve only met a few of them, but there are no doubt many more.”

  “What are they like? Where do they live?” Adan asked, as much to find out about himself as about them. Maybe something might trigger his memory.

  Will had a small pile of plugs made by now. He set the scraps down and dusted off his hands. “They used to call themselves the Werin. But at some point they split into two groups: the Welkin and the Waymen. The Welkin live underground in a network of tunnels called the Viscera. They say that’s where all the Werin originally came from. Down there they have water, resources, and protection from the storms.

  “The Waymen live on the surface, scavenging what they can from the desert and raiding the Welkin for the rest. They’re a violent people for the most part, and extremely superstitious, especially when it comes to technology.”

  Will inserted a plug into the shifter. The outer ring turned red, indicating it was processing.

  “And how do you know about these desert people if you’re a—what did you call it?”

  “A remap.” The outer ring went green again. Will dropped another plug in and the ring flipped back to red. “I lived in one of the Welkin knits—that’s what they call the groups they live in. They don’t have much technology either, but they use powder they get from the rocks to make what they need. Different powders for different things: thread, tarps, other materials. They even use them for food.”

  Adan took it all in, living through Will’s words, wondering if this was what his past had been like. It jarred no memories, though.

  “Finished,” Will announced as the shifter went green again. He walked over and filled two canisters with the freshly made water.

  Adan put a container to his lips as if he had done so all his life. He drained it quickly, still surprised at how easily it went down. Will offered him another and he downed that one as well. This at last seemed to slake his thirst.

  “Do you think we could visit them? Are they far from here?” Adan asked once he’d finished.

  “The Welkin? No, they’re not that far. But our first priority is getting you healthy. And while you’re recovering, there’s plenty to do right here—starting with these walls. They took a beating during the storm. Do you feel well enough to help?”

  “I’ll do what I can.” Adan’s head still throbbed and moving took a lot of effort, but he wanted to at least try. He started to get up, but Will put a hand on his shoulder.

  “No, just sit right there,” he said. “You get the easy job.” He reached in between some barrels and pulled out a slate-colored plastic bucket.

  “We need to fill this with char. That’s what the walls of this compound are made of. We’ll use the shifter to make a fresh batch. Don’t worry, I’ll make the plugs. All you have to do is put them in the shifter and dump the char into the bucket.”

  Adan nodded lethargically. It sounded simple enough, but with the state he was in, nothing came easy.

  Will spun the dials on the shifter and locked in a new set of glowing letters.

  “Okay, you’re good to go. Just drop them in the opening and dump it out every four or five plugs.” He set the bucket beside the shifter and headed towards the scrap barrel.

  As he worked, full of energy and purpose, Adan sat and watched. Will was everything Adan was not—strong, resourceful, sure of himself. Still, Adan found it hard to imagine how he survived in this compound alone. If that last storm was any indication, he didn’t see how anyone made it in the Vast for long.

  “Why did you come out here?” Adan asked.

  Will paused and considered a moment.

  “Because there’s something that I need to do,” he answered, finishing off the first plug and chucking it at Adan’s feet.

  “And what is that?” Adan picked up the metal ball and hesitated before dropping it into the shifter. The ring turned red. The shifter was working. Maybe he did have the easy job.

  “I need to stop what they’re doing in Oasis. The people out here will never survive as long as the Developers control the Vast. But I can't do it alone. And that's why I brought you here, to help me save them.”

&
nbsp; So this was why Will had risked breaking into the Institute. But why rescue Adan at all? Will seemed fairly self-sufficient so far.

  “Save them? What do you mean?”

  “We weren’t the only ones taken,” Will said, his tone growing more serious. “There are hundreds of others who’ve been abducted, but they never made it out of the Institute like us. They were assimilated into the Collective, or more likely just killed—that’s what they do to anyone who doesn’t prove ‘viable’. It doesn’t matter though, assimilation or death—it’s all the same. They’re hunting us down and they won’t stop until everyone in the Vast is gone.”

  Adan had no way of knowing whether or not what Will was saying was true, but there was a certain chilling logic to his words. It seemed to fit with what little he had been able to learn from his time in the Institute. The scientists, the testing, the procedures, he wasn’t sure what their purpose was, but his experience there had left him shaken and afraid. Afraid of the scientists and afraid to ever go back.

  “So what’s your plan?” Adan asked.

  “Shut them down. Pretty straightforward.” Will shrugged. He rolled the plug he’d just made around on the backs of his fingers a few times before tossing it Adan’s way.

  “I can’t go back there.” Adan said, holding onto the plug. The shifter was still processing.

  “But we have to. If we don’t, who will?” Will’s eyes flashed at him. Adan sensed a challenge in that look.

  “I just want my life back. Maybe…maybe I can help after that.” During all those long, terrible days at the Institute, the hope that he might recover his past was the one thing that had kept Adan going. And that hadn’t changed. If the scientists had erased his memory once, they could do it again. He couldn’t risk getting caught by them.

  Will mowed through another piece of scrap, working quickly. The plug hit Adan in the foot this time.

  “Sorry.” Will went to work on another piece. “I didn’t choose to be one of their experiments any more than you did, but we can’t let them keep doing this. We have to stop them.”