Wine of the Gods 1: Outcasts and Gods

by Pam Uphoff

  "Can't or won't?"

  "Well, this is my first nuke. I'm not sure it's still around where I can find it, and if it's exploded there . . . well, I don't think I'll look for awhile. I'd hate to kill myself and everyone else around and dump fallout all over and so forth. Which means I'm stuck here. Bummer."

  "Bummer? That's all you can say?"

  "Well, I'm alive, my team's alive. And we'll always have Paris. So getting seriously upset seems a bit of an over reaction. I have a problem, not a disaster."

  "You told your friends that it was a transdimensional bubble, and that it had time dilation."

  "Right. There's a chance that the bomb hasn't gone off yet. So if you want to try to isolate it somewhere, sooner would be better than later. But as soon as I open it, the timer will be running. Awkward as all hell, you know? I suspect it's best left right where it is. Maybe I could check it in a year or two."

  "Oh yeah, we'll trust you for that."

  "Then I suggest Nevada, and a very deep hole. I think I can back off enough to be safe when I open the bubbles."

  "Oh, you think? I fail to see any reason we should trust you."

  "Over two years of honorable service? Either the nuke was a mass hallucination, I made everyone think really existed, or it magically disappeared, or I stuck it in a multidimensional bubble in the hope that it would neutralize it. Take your pick, all the same to me." Wolfgang rather wearily thought that he ought not have brought up the notion of him implanting the whole experience. But he was on day four of sleep deprivation, and they hadn't even brought in the "Bad Cop" yet. He suspected it was going to get unpleasant, sooner or later.

  But his strategy involved simply telling the truth and maintaining his claim to humanity and civil rights, so he didn't have to worry too much.

  Except for the people who were frantic over the nuke. He kept suggesting that they first figure out some way to deal with it, and then he'd try to find it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  NewGene Experimental Facilities

  Wisconsin, North American Union

  15 March 2115

  "They've caught Wolfgang."

  Rebeccah looked around.

  Jack was smirking, looking at Harry. "Guess what he's been doing for three years?"

  "Running, hiding."

  "Killing people for money."

  Everyone in the room turned and gawked.

  "Congratulations, Harry, your team just gained GI Joe. Assuming the Army doesn't decide to keep him. Apparently he's trying to get a declaration of personhood from the military courts. The director is having words with his favorite congressmen as we speak."

  Harry sighed. "Well, I'll worry about him when he gets here. Now go work with the away team. Make sure they know the time constraints." He turned away from Jack.

  Dr. Vang grabbed Jack's elbow and led him away, saying something Rebeccah couldn't hear.

  Rebeccah returned to her deep breathing, centering her mind. Wolfgang taught me how to do that, in his yoga classes. Oh damn. It will be so good to see him again, but it's so horrible that they've found him.

  She remembered uneasily what Wolfgang had said. That the project should be a flop. Yet she could hold perfection in her mind.

  She stopped thinking about it, shut off the emotions. It was time for concentration. She reached out and held the containment field in her mind. It was beautiful and clean. Sparkling. Pretty snake, bite that tail! She could feel the other two women doing their part, Mercy was controlling the spin of the superconducting magnets and AK was aiming the whirlpool in some odd fashion, able to find something thick, solid, in the fizzy electric liquid all around them.

  The whirlpool touched down. Rebeccah held the mag bottle carefully, keeping the current going, speeding up as demand increased, backing off and supporting the bottle as a demand softened, then speeding it up and again, rushing, knowing the rings were detuning . . . She felt the power surge, the jolt as the capacitors cut in . . . blinked and looked around.

  "It's all right. Everyone is back." Harry's voice echoed her relief.

  She took the soda he offered, sipped as she peeled off her contacts and headed for the doors. The longer they held the gate, the lower their blood sugar dropped. The drain was slowed with proper teamwork, but not eliminated. She'd worked with Dr. Heath to chart the process. The initial burst of power from the fizzies, the dropping sugar level, accelerating rapidly as they held the gate open past two minutes.

  She wondered how Wolfgang would react to the rings, whether he could control them. And whether he'd allow anyone to know, if he could.

  ***

  The hole had been excavated for a nuclear test that had been cancelled. Now it had been hastily fitted up with cameras and monitors.

  Wolfgang opened the outer bubble and pinned the inner to the floor. He pinched a corner of the bubble and pulled it out into a rope, a string leading back to the main bulk of the bubble. Then he turned and headed for the lift. Also crude and hastily installed. Deep mine equipment, footrests and grab straps. He grabbed and stepped and pulled his invisible string along behind him. At the surface, a helicopter whisked him away to the camp headquarters where Dr. Cassidy was still arguing with a collection of Russian and French diplomats and scientists. He collected glares from all of them.

  He ignored them and saluted the base commander. “Ready, sir.” He kept his voice professional.

  They turned to the screens, most, showing the empty chamber from all directions. The surface camms showed the workers finishing off the seal with some added mass. The dump trucks drove off, and the dozers followed quickly.

  The commander ignored the impatient observers until his people were all beyond the minimum safe distance markers. The commander eyed the collection of civilians. Looked back at Wolf. Looked like his ulcer was acting up. He grimaced and turned to the assorted watchers. “If you are ready, we’ll proceed.”

  He got irritated and impatient nods in return.

  Then he turned to Wolf. “So, fetch us a nuke. If you can.”

  Wolfgang took his insubstantial rope, and ripped the bubble wide open. And like a bubble, it popped.

  On screen, the nuke and the computer controls dropped an inch to the floor. Wolfgang vented a sigh of relief. The Commander flicked a glance his direction.

  “Never tried doing that from a distance.”

  Cassidy’s boss looked around. “You’ll be telling us all about what you did, momentarily.” His attention returned to the bomb.

  “Four minutes, twenty-three seconds. That time dilation only rolled off a few seconds.” Dr. Cassidy’s eyes narrowed. “Damn it, that’s much more interesting than an old refurbished nuke. All that time in Paris, I’d rather have been studying you.”

  “You’ll get your chance.” Her boss’s voice was dry. “These bubbles are something I haven’t heard about, from Trans World.”

  Wolfgang snorted. “You think the slaves tell their master’s everything? That whole mess is going to blow up in your faces, soon enough.”

  "What? Giving animal hybrids rights?" One of the women eyed Wolfgang. "Not that you look like you have any animal genes, but . . . "

  One of the other listeners shrugged. “Artificially enhanced animals with brains about the level of retarded children? We should be in charge, not a private company. keep them from escaping.” He eyed Wolfgang dyspeptically.

  “Retarded? Don’t believe your own propaganda. We’re smart, and able. By design.” He closed his mouth and looked back at the screens.

  The timer scrolled down toward zero. Most of the screens blanked. The four surface pictures quivered and heaved; two of them blanked.

  The sharp jolt staggered Wolfgang. He jumped and caught a monitor as it teetered.

  The circling helicopter shot showed the ground lift and crack. Dust geysered as it settled back.

  “Stronger than we’d thought.” One of the Russian scientists commented in his own language.

  “That would have put a hole in Paris.�
� One of the American staffers.

  The French delegation glared at the speaker, then the top diplomat nodded to Wolfgang. “Thank you. I hope that your actions do not cost you too much.”

  He could only shrug. “I’ll find out next week.”

  The Americans eyed him hungrily. The Russians without expression.

  So nice to be wanted.

  ***

  Jason and Chauncey were waiting for them. "Come and see what we've found." Jason led off toward the Game Room.

  "It's a stash Wolfgang left behind."

  Rebeccah winced. "I can't believe after all this time, they caught him."

  "Yeah. He must have done something massively stupid. Now it's totally up in the air whether they'll kill him or just send him back here." Chauncey held the door for them.

  Jason sighed. "If he manages to keep it in the Military Courts, he'll have a chance. If it's kicked back to civilian, he's toast."

  A pair in blue coveralls looked their way. Michael and Richie. Not her favorite pair of gods. Telies.

  Richie was the youngest of them all, seventeen now. "I've got the wireline hooked up. We now have cartoons."

  "I was hoping for some news channels." Jason said repressively.

  Michael grinned. "Oh, we've got those too. In half an hour we can watch the debate between our very own—well, if we were humans, with rights—senator and his challenger. Check those out." He pointed at a pile in the seat of a chair.

  "Keep the lights dim." Chauncey picked up a bound packet and tipped it to the light of a game screen. "Whoa! Mercy with a drivers license, social registry card, credit cards, now that's scary."

  They dug through the piles and found packets for dozens of people. And tools. Lots of tools, all plastic of some sort.

  "They're hidden inside the machines. We've only opened four so far." Michael said.

  "Haven't found a gun yet." Richie got up out of the chair and fell flat. "Michael, this was old the second time!"

  "My job is not done until you start checking before you move."

  Richie pulled the loop of dark string off his feet, left it tangled around the chair. He stomped over to another game machine and pulled it away from the wall.

  Rebeccah spotted a packet for AK and handed it to her. She'd gotten her own when she escaped with Wolfgang. Her father had already had legal barriers in place, he had forgotten all about 'might makes right'. She hadn't heard from him in the two and a half years since. The University had sent a proctor down to monitor their test taking since then. No one had been allowed off the premises.

  "Jason? Is there a phillip's there?"

  "Yeah." He grabbed the table hastily as his feet failed to cooperate, and kicked out of the string loop. "Michael, remind me again why your nose looks like that?"

  "Because Barry and Edmund have no sense of humor, not even a single one split between them."

  "No. It's because that fellow in your mirror is such an ass."

  Chauncey had a screen showing the debate. "Bad resolution, these game machines are no longer cutting edge."

  Rebeccah joined him. "Can you get sound?"

  "I think this should do it."

  ". . . accept God's plans for them and their children. This travesty, this horror must end. No more genetic engineering. Not of people, not of animals, not of plants, not of yeast! I will not be forced to eat an abomination. Trans World claims to have bridged the dimensions and found new worlds? Then that is the answer. We can send all these unnatural creatures to another world. Every single one of them. Semi human and corrupted animal alike."

  Dead silence in the game room. Wild applause from the machine.

  AK cleared her throat. "I like the idea, personally. But how does the last team get through?"

  Rebeccah shook her head. "They won't give up the possibility of getting all those minerals, the timber, a colony. They may send other people into exile, but they won't let us go. Ever."

  ***

  Unfortunately the JAG took the easy route out. Enlisting under forged identification papers was sufficient for a dishonorable discharge. After a brief civilian court appearance, John Dewulf, AKA Wolfgang Oldham was returned to owner.

  Chapter Sixteen

  NewGene Experimental Facilities

  Wisconsin, North American Union

  30 April 2115

  "You've caused problems for us all." Harry Murchison met the chill stare of the man across the desk from him. Wolfgang Oldham was even taller than he remembered. Just as muscular and athletic looking. Mature, experienced. Not the idealistic boy any more. A soldier. His glow . . . wasn't there. It was so wrapped up it was nearly negative.

  "Oh, please, Harry. You're inside the fence too, you know. You can pretend you're one of the slave masters, but no one else is fooled."

  Harry glared. "We are not slaves. You know how we have to tiptoe around and not upset people. It would be all too easy for the next Congress to tip over the line, on the wrong side."

  "And how, pray tell, does serving my country, risking my life to serve that Congress, make anything worse."

  "Your conspicuous bravery under fire and all those pretty medals they pinned on you before they arrested you, involved you killing a whole bunch of people. The Liberals are having kittens over it."

  "Then they ought to spay themselves. Now, if you don't mind, Isa gonna go find a place to take a nap and finish metabolizing whatever it was that knocked me out for most of the drive back. Please don't let Massa catch me and beat me. Or have you sold your soul and taken a liking to cracking the whip yourself?"

  Harry, being much the darker skinned of the pair, glared. Because he's right. And Harry knew exactly how horribly right Wolfgang was.

  He flipped a card across the desk. "Building five, room 84." Wolf picked up the card and walked out without saying good bye.

  Harry sighed and leaned back to close his eyes.

  "That's trouble looking for a place to happen," Gisele's voice was soft, feminine, and sexy enough to rouse a dead man.

  "No," Harry thumped his chair down. "We're already neck deep in trouble, and sinking fast. That's a rocket launcher. The first salvo has been fired and I can't tell where it's going to hit."

  Gisele snorted. "And he's no doubt reloading."

  "I wish to hell he weren't one of the ideal sets. Are you sure?"

  "Oh yes. He has double copies of a hundred and five engineered genes on twelve chromosome additions. The Happy Kids final improvements. The only ones he's missing don't seem to have anything to do with the dimensional abilities. He's got the W version of the X-chromosome and the M version of the Y. He's even got the blue genes, not active, obviously. Trans World wants him bad, and not a damn thing we can do about it."

  Harry growled. "Well, we know we'll all be there eventually. If our constitutional challenge fails, or we can't get that legislation reversed. All we can do is delay, and pray for a change after the next election."

  "Those rumors about what the congress talks about doing to us in private . . ." She paced his floor, wringing her hands. A brilliant bioscientist. "You know they're true. Not to mention the horror of those further experiments management wants to do to us." Double PhD's and her medical degree not withstanding, she was as much at risk as any of them.

  "Yes it’s all true. And you know what? The scariest thing was that Wolfgang wasn’t deeply upset. He was determined. He poked me a couple of times and studied my responses. He may be a weapon, but he’s not an unguided one. He knows what he’s going to do."

  ***

  The locks were broken. He used a tickle of mental energy to trigger the main doors, and then the card to unlock his old room. The electronics monitors they’d installed were pitiful. He fritzed them off and on, long enough to pull the tools he needed out of a bubble and unscrew the window grid from the wall. He let them run while he got ready for bed. Fritzed them while he slid out of bed, dressed, plumped up the bed with stuff from one of his bubbles, and left. From outside the window he let the vide
o cams restart. He jumped down and warped light around himself, and headed around to where Rebeccah and another telie were climbing out her window.

  "Charlie, isn’t it?"

  The tall figure spun around. The short one grinned.

  "I should have known you wouldn’t need any help to get out." Rebeccah stepped up and hugged him. "I’m glad to see you, no matter what."

  The man bristled. Ha! Boyfriend. Good for Rebeccah. "Charlie Alpha."

  "Wolfgang Oldham. Where’s a good place to talk, these days?"

  Charlie eyed him, then jerked his head and led the way. "We’ve scoped out where they’ve got motion detectors, so pardon the drunkard’s walk. We let them keep most of the grounds under observation."

  "Jason was the last one, besides you, to be caught." Rebeccah grimaced. "I’m sorry you’re back, though."

  "Eh. It was about time one of us tested the legal waters again. Found them nasty, deep, and chilly, mind you." Wolfgang followed in Charlie’s footsteps. "And I’ve been trying to follow what you lot are up to here, sounds like some really fascinating stuff. So I figured that even if I failed in court, something even better just might come of it."

  Rebeccah snickered. "You know what? I’d forgotten how you always seemed to be two steps ahead of where everyone thought you were."

  "I hope I can keep it up. I’ve been out of the dance for quite awhile."

  Charlie stopped in between the dorms and the game center, under the limbs of a barren tree. "We’ve seen the press releases about our dimensional gates. They're both optimistic about the future, and six months behind actual developments."

  Wolfgang looked between the two of them. "So, can you really open a gate to a world where colonists could make a go of it?"

  Rebeccah grimaced. "Only as many as could race through in two minutes, and so far we’ve never been able to return to the same world again."