Scavenger: A.I.: (Sand Divers, Book Two)

by Timothy C. Ward

  Bow sat with folded hands on the other side of the tent’s circular table, offering a leader’s scowl at the uninvited guest before him. White scars marred the tan of his face and bald head. “What’s your name?”

  “Dixon. The guy you rescued and then recaptured. Pleasure.” Dixon gave a sarcastic curtsy. “Yours?”

  “Swanson.” His eyelids narrowed at Dixon. “And it was a necessary precaution to secure the man Marco plucked out of that hole with his hands tied instead of his throat cut. Guessin’ you got knowledge his strapping young master would like to hear. If you’d like to share with us, maybe we cut your rope and become buds. Sorry we didn’t have time to chit chat out there.” Swanson sat back, parting his hands in a helpless gesture. “Your blade in my man’s thigh saw to that. Bes’ start talking `fore he returns the favor.”

  Dixon wasn’t ready to reveal anything. “My sincere apologies. My wife has been captured, and I’ll do anything to get back down there. Can you help me?”

  Swanson assessed Dixon with a thoughtful look. “That’s possible. Or maybe you sold out to our lord of the towers and Marco wasn’t in on it.”

  “I’m alive because Marco and The Gov want to go where I just came from.”

  One side of Swanson’s mouth tucked, his eye contact locked on Dixon with the patience of someone ready for a long war. He reached into a fold in his garments and produced a canteen. Tipped it toward Dixon. “How ‘bout you have a drink and tell me where you came from?”

  Dixon didn’t know what plasma might be left in his system, but if what was left was burning out faster because he was thirsty, maybe he should humble himself. “I don’t have time for dinner and cakes, but I’ll take a drink.”

  “In exchange for information.”

  Carroll might not have time for him to wait any longer. “Not only have I seen Denver, but somewhere The Gov wants even more.”

  “Okay. You have my attention.” Swanson smiled. “And Denver… Where’d you hear that name?”

  “My old Dive Master, Avery Hawes.”

  Swanson didn’t look surprised. He nodded and prepped his canteen against Dixon’s chapped lips.

  Dixon opened and let a warm gulp pass down his throat. The flow choked him to leaning forward and cursing the burn in his nose. When his coughing expired, he sat up and asked, “Do you know him?”

  “Heard the name.” Swanson set the canteen down before Dixon and returned to his seat.

  “Okay. Well, Avery also claimed to hate The Gov, but in the face of blackmail, led my group into a trap that has killed nearly everyone I know.” Dixon withheld his part about Warren warning him not to go in with the first group, and how that had saved his life. I deserve to be dead with the rest of them.

  But he wasn’t dead, and right now his wife needed him. “Warren has the last person I care about.” He debated getting into the whole Warren or W thing. “If you’re no friend of The Gov, I’ll do and tell you what I can to help take him out but, ultimately, I only care about getting back into that hole.”

  “Warren’s down there?”

  Dixon let out a nervous laugh. “Something like that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Can I drink my own water?”

  Swanson winked. Respect. “Lydia, cut his hands free.”

  She did, and after finishing the canteen’s contents, he gave them a two-minute recap of what they found in Fort Pope up to what he thinks has his wife.

  “Wow.” Swanson held his hand out as though pleading for no new information. “We’re on the same side. See, we’re sentries, too. That makes protecting Fort Pope and the Twin Suns technology vital, even if some crazy mind robot is running loose down there.”

  “What’s vital is getting back down there. Carroll will be tortured. Worse, I might lose her to that…thing, W.”

  “I get you. W sounds worse than anything we could have imagined coming from Fort Pope, but this is our best chance to catch The Gov. I’d bet W thinks so, too, so as much as I hate to think about making your wife wait for a rescue, with our limited resources and need to play our hand right, we have to wait for both of these bastards to come to us.”

  “No.” Dixon stood. “Just…we can’t. Let me explain.”

  Swanson held a hand out to the crew behind Dixon. Footsteps stopped not far from his back. Fletcher was first in line, pressing a hand into his bandaged leg.

  Dixon turned to Swanson. “I can get down without anyone knowing.”

  “And how would you do that?” Swanson asked. “Tunnel has constant guard.”

  “My nanos make me invisible to dive view.”

  “Ooookay.” Swanson smiled as he shook his head. “But even invisible, without the suits on, you’d still have to dive. Arnest tried that and coffined. Even two full tanks don’t seem enough.”

  “I won’t need any to come back. I’ll find it with two. Waiting for W to come up is a bad idea. We have to stop him before his foothold on the Plaza spreads out of control.” In the silence of Swanson’s contemplation, Dixon added, “Could be the best chance to get The Gov is when he goes down the tunnel. If you want someone on the other side, this is your chance.”

  Swanson gave a pitying smile. “And if you get caught?”

  “Would that stop you from trying? Were you in my boots?”

  Swanson chuckled. “No.” He stood. “No it wouldn’t.”

  “Good, then I’ll need some food, a couple strips of jerky would be enough, some more water, and my tanks filled.”

  Swanson looked at Fletcher behind Dixon.

  “We’ve got enough,” he responded.

  “Okay.” Swanson motioned for Dixon to come with. “We’ll link up with your comms and be in contact as The Gov’s cadre nears.”

  “Here.” Fletcher held out an open canteen.

  Dixon accepted the drink. Each gulp restored what his EM loss depleted. He finished the canteen’s supply and handed it back, gasping. The idea of meat tied to what Carroll did with the nanospiders and what he could do with the charge between his fingers. He looked at Swanson. “I need a bird.”

  “A bird?” Swanson asked. “We have jerky.”

  “No.” Dixon held up his hand, cradling an invisible egg of nanos. “This can go into a bird. It can fly down the tunnel into the Plaza without having to swim two strokes. That or a rock. I suppose a rock could work if we can get close enough to toss it down.”

  “We have pigeons,” Swanson said, an unsure look on his face.

  Dixon further considered how Carroll used plasma pellets, which he didn’t have. While his plasma felt depleted, the nanos remained active. “Might be better to use a bird. Think something inside the living may help power the nanos, whereas a rock has no energy.”

  “Okay. Klaus, go fetch a pigeon.”

  “I’ll take jerky, too.” Dixon said. “I’m still gonna have to swim, but I’ve got an idea to distract W while I come in from the other side.”

  54 - Rush (6:47 am)

  A few kilometers into Rush’s path through the dark halls outside Fort Pope, his dive light glinted off metal hidden under a blanket. The shape protruding beneath was long and thin enough to spark hope. His smile beamed at the sight of an inflated bike tire. Thick rubber grooves matched his guess as he tore the tarp free and exposed a fully equipped dune bike. He gladly shouted his falcon call into the quiet depths.

  Both tires held sturdy. Even better than the gas tank being half full was the full extra tank bungeed to the back.

  The kick of the engine turning over rumbled into his chest and echoed across the walls. He hopped on, flicked on the headlight, and revved down the hallway. His visor kept the beacon of Denver as a compass to guide him through the winding halls.

  Here and there, discarded packs littered the ground—or worse, bones—forcing him to skid and weave sharp turns. He couldn’t help but feel Colorado’s presence riding on a spirit bike beside him.

  “Hurry, D.M,” Colorado said. “They love the living and how your blood
will warm their throats. This is their home and they are all aware of your trespass.”

  Under the sun’s warmth and the expanse of sky and air, those beliefs lacked skin to contain them, but under here, in a tomb too deep and far reaching to escape soon enough, Colorado’s whisper carried breath to waken goosebumps. His hands ached with his tight grip on the vibrating handlebars. He gunned it with each surprising minute when the bike did not die and the dead did not rise from their bones to drag him down with them.

  The closer Rush came to the beacon marking Denver, the stronger he feared the apparitions hiding beyond corners and stacks of debris large enough to conceal anything that could jump out and snatch him from his bike.

  He rode in dock view to better identify the objects cluttering the floor. What could have been a ribcage reflected his light off its metal frame. Rush gave it a wide birth as he leaned left, hugging the right berm of the tunnel. His headlight splashed over the gang of footsteps in dirt he’d been tracking for the last kilometer. In this section of the hall’s straightaway, their path flattened, and he slowed to observe. The air smelled of burned gasoline, but also a sharper scent, like metal and blood. His mind traced back to what he’d smelled after cleansing M-MANs.

  He stopped his bike and switched into dive view. Past the spread of swiped dirt and centered footsteps, he saw the life sources of two humans crouched inside a hole in the wall twenty yards away. The bulge of tanks on their backs and visors on their heads marked them as divers.

  His bike had given him away awhile back, but they likely didn’t know he’d spotted them. If he didn’t do something soon, the dead might leap before he latched onto the living and rode out of here. He squawked his falcon call.

  The shorter of the figures rose from its crouch. A falcon call squawked back. The figure continued forward into the hall to face Rush. “That you, Poke?”

  “Shrubs.” Rush switched to dock view and bumped his gas to quicken his path to the side of his old friend. Their hug slowed him to a stop.

  Avery sagged into his side.

  “You okay?” Rush asked.

  “Wouldn’t mind sleeping off the rest of the week, but other than that, I’m fine.”

  Nedzad rose in the doorway. “We both could.” Behind the burly sentry, concrete stairs led up a stairwell taller than Rush’s dive light could reach.

  The last time he’d seen Avery, he’d been head-to-toe filled with M-MANs. Hope blossomed in his heart. If he’s fine, then Star…

  Rush blinked to dive view. Neither of them had the electric green of M-MANs in their life forms. He switched back to dock view and hugged Avery even tighter. Exhaustion mixed with elation. “Your M-MANs are gone.”

  Avery patted his back. “I…I hope so.”

  “The eruption in Fort Pope cleansed all the M-MANs I could see,” Nedzad said. “He was outside the doors, but close enough.” He pointed at Rush’s bike. “Mind shutting that down? If it hasn’t already attracted attention from anyone up there, we’ll be lucky.”

  Rush turned the key back, killing the engine. “You been up there yet?”

  “No,” Avery said. “Nedzad has been taking his sweet time cleaning up the M-MAN mess our hallway predecessors left on their way in.”

  “All it takes is one.” Nedzad led their climb. “Who knows what grows beyond that door.”

  “Yes, yes. We know,” Avery followed Nedzad with room on his right for Rush and his bike. “Gods, do we know.” To Rush: “We were just about to go in when we heard your bike.” Avery laughed. “The gods saw fit to give slowpoke a bike so he could catch up in perfect time. If we had time, I’d burn a sacrifice in their honor.”

  “Probably ought to anyway,” Rush said. “First they brought you back from the dead, and now you’re cleansed from that mechanical monster. Better make it a big fire.”

  “How are things at Fort Pope?” Nedzad asked over his shoulder. “How’s Star?”

  The levity of those facts brought down the mood being with his old friend had created. “Star is safe, for now. I left Singer to check the perimeter and set a voice lock on the doors.” His other mission brought a weight of guilt and fear.

  “How are the T.S. systems?” Nedzad asked.

  “I’m sorry. I forgot to check.”

  “You forgot to check on the nuclear reactor after the massive discharge?”

  “I mean, it’s still working. I was a little consumed with Star…”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Nedzad asked.

  “What isn’t?” Rush said. “Don’t know if she’s still my wife with all that the M-MANs and then W did to her.”

  “W?” Avery asked.

  “Warren’s mechanical embodiment controlling M-MANs. That’s what he goes by,” Rush said. “The good news about the electrical discharge is, on top of wiping out the M-MANs, it may have also knocked W from the base’s network.”

  Avery slowed and Rush put a hand at his back to keep his pace up. “I left her to find you two and hopefully a doctor up on the surface.”

  “I doubt any doctors would know how to help her recover from an M-MAN infection,” Nedzad said.

  There it was, time to admit her dark truth. “It’s not for that. Star thinks she is pregnant.”

  Nedzad and Avery stopped.

  “Congratulations,” Avery said. His smile tried harder to hide the concern that Nedzad left clear on his face.

  “A doctor would be a good idea,” Nedzad said. “Though I can’t imagine how the baby could make it through with what’s in her body right now.”

  “That’s part of what I’m afraid of,” Rush said. “The other part is she is hell bent on using her nanos and a healthy diet of plasma to try and make the baby a new body for Fish’s spirit.”

  “Fish?” Nedzad asked, slowly returning to the climb.

  Rush pushed on Avery’s back to follow. “He’s my dead son. She believes her new abilities can bring him back, and all he needs is a body. Like you, I’m deathly afraid of what she’ll create, and I’m hoping a doctor… I don’t know what. Who knows what this will do to her, or if the baby will come out healthy.”

  Nedzad turned away, his face somber.

  Rush could relate.

  Nedzad opened the door to a room devoid of light, save for the red glow from their suits’ dive lights.

  Rush switched to dive view, pushed Avery on his left and his bike on his right. When he reached the large room above, his dive view showed yellow barriers to small rooms tucked into the left side. No living remained, but he did catch a few small drips of green leading a path to the right and into a hallway.

  Nedzad shook his head and stalked for the first.

  Avery went for the rooms. “I’m starving.”

  Rush adjusted to push his bike on the left side so he could more easily retrieve the DL on his right leg. Nedzad made easy enough work out of the first drip, so Rush trailed after Avery. He could use food or water, for sure. Colorado would caution him from taking from the dead, but in the company of two more divers, Rush felt less unease in scavenging their territory for a little while longer.

  “Oh, yeah,” Avery said. “Found water and food, guys.”

  Rush set his bike down and jogged toward the sheet Avery’s life source glowed behind.

  They ate and drank in eager grunts and heavy chewing. Rush stopped drinking from the canteen Avery found, took a couple strips of snake jerky, and headed out toward Nedzad.

  The sentry knelt with his hand on the floor near the hallway entrance on the room’s northeast side.

  “Nedzad, jerky and water.”

  Behind Rush, a scurry of movement came from Avery, likely packing in the rest of the stash he’d found.

  Nedzad gingerly stood and accepted the refreshments, consuming them on the spot. Past his left side, Rush saw another couple drops in the hallway. He had suit power to spare so he went after the first.

  They leapfrogged each other to make quick work of the M-MAN droplets. Avery caught up to them as they neared the
exit of the hall into a hospital floor the dead had long ago used to heal their living. Rush switched to dive view to check through the many empty chairs and alcoves.

  Two living figures in a room to their right stopped his search cold. “Nedzad,” he whispered and pointed in their direction. He leaned his bike against the wall and hustled after Nedzad, Avery at his left.

  The smaller of the two figures was curled on the floor, as though in sleep, and the second may have been out as well, its head resting on its arms in a slumped-over posture on a desk. The one on the floor could be Cool, but the sitting one was thicker than any in his party.

  Nedzad reached the door, looked up at Rush, then quietly pushed the door open, hands unarmed, but poised to react if threatened. His steps landed without a sound. Dive view showed some M-MAN growth in the lying figure’s mouth, with traces in the tiny rivers of its veins. He didn’t see any M-MANs on the room’s surfaces. Dock view. The bright white glow of the ceiling light made Rush squint and reflexively shield his eyes.

  The sitting figure snapped awake as Nedzad lifted him, forearm to throat. The dark bearded, olive skinned man had a chalky colored glove on his right hand, tied by a rubber band around his wrist.

  “Stop,” he coughed through Nedzad’s grip. “Let me go.”

  Rush’s attention snapped left to the scuffle on the floor. Cool scooted up against the wall. “Rush?” He shielded his eyes with his arm. Recognition bloomed in his face. “Rush!” He pushed off the wall and ran into Rush’s chest, wrapping him in a tight hug, or as tight as he could as the dive tank on Rush’s back was too much bulge for Cool to lock his hands around.

  Awareness of M-MANs in Cool’s mouth forced Rush to push the boy away. His youthful face soured as he looked up at Rush. Rush grasped his arms in tight pinches above the elbow and didn’t let go when Cool tried to break free.

  “What are you doing?” Cool asked. “Nedzad, let Doctor Hannu go. He’s a friend.” He noticed Rush looking in his mouth, and resisted his fight. “He’s trying to help. Jeff infected me with M-MANs. He’s very sick, Rush. You have to help him.”