Outland (Revised Edition)

by Dennis E. Taylor

  Calhoun paused, his hand not quite on his flashlight. That had sounded like a shot from a silenced rifle. Why would—

  “Four … three … two …” Chavez counted down, staring at her watch. As she reached zero, Charlie and Bill both hit the “OK” buttons on their respective tablets. As the gates shimmered into life, Monica and several soldiers jumped through, quickly followed by shouted orders to freeze, get down, drop weapons.

  One of the hostiles raised his rifle. There was a low crack, and he crumpled. As Chavez swiveled, evaluating the situation, another one of them grabbed a woman in a headlock and put his gun to her head. He quickly backed up against a palleted stack of boxes.

  “Back off. I will blow her head off.”

  He was talking, not shooting, so Chavez took the time to finish her sweep. The two remaining hostiles had not dropped their weapons, but had them pointed down. Maybe waiting to see which way the wind blew, but one of them was also pointed at the hostage on the ground. She briefly considered just blowing them away regardless, but reminded herself that that was the difference between a peacekeeper and a mercenary. She wouldn’t step over that line. Plus it might cause the hostage-taker to retaliate.

  Monica stepped up. “Well, hello, Adam. Time for that orchidectomy I promised you.”

  “Fuck off, bitch. You can’t get behind me, you try to shoot me, you’ll have to go through this bitch.”

  “Do you know any other words, Adam? ‘Bitch’ gets a little old after a while. Maybe try to shake it up a little.”

  “Fuck off, bitch.”

  Monica sneered at him. “You really are a mouth-breathing moron.”

  Bill had heard everything through the still-open gate. This was possibly the worst-case scenario—a hostage situation. One twitch by the wrong person, and everyone would start shooting.

  He looked around frantically, hoping for inspiration. Then he spotted the pole-cam. It was true that he couldn’t get behind Adam, but Adam was a two-dimensional thinker …

  Bill grabbed the pole-cam. He quickly pulled the various antennae back from the gate, leaving only the camera within the circle. Pointing to one of the soldiers, he said, “Get one of your high-powered flashlights. Bring it over and be prepared to turn it on in someone’s face.”

  The soldier quickly complied, while Bill raised the pole-cam into the air, about ten feet up, with the camera pointing downward. He juggled the pole and the tablet until one of the soldiers came over and took the tablet.

  “Press ‘OK,’ ” Bill instructed him.

  The interface shimmered to life inside the gate’s circumference. Bill moved the pole-cam slightly, then with an abrupt motion, slammed it straight downward. There was a crack, followed by an “Ow, fuck!” as the camera separated from the pole-cam and sailed into the air.

  Hanging in mid-air, at exactly eye level, a disembodied head stuck out of the top of the pole-cam gate.

  “Now! In his eyes,” Bill yelled.

  The soldier reacted immediately, shining the flashlight straight into Adam’s face.

  Bill grinned. “Hello, Adam. How’s tricks?”

  Chavez was sidling slowly to the side, hoping to get a useful angle, when Adam’s head abruptly disappeared. There was an “Ow, fuck!” as the headless body of Adam reached up frantically to where his head should be, dropping the rifle and releasing the hostage in the process.

  Chavez grabbed the weapon while another soldier pulled the hostage away. The two remaining hostiles, having determined the direction of the wind, dropped their rifles and put their hands on their heads.

  Monica muttered something that sounded like “Nice one, Bill,” strode up to Adam, and punched him in the solar plexus. He went down, his head popping out from an apparent hole in the air.

  While Monica placed the barrel of her gun against Adam’s temple, Chavez stepped forward and looked up through the hole. Just before it disappeared, she clearly saw the overcast night sky of Nebraska.

  Memo to self: don’t ever underestimate this Bill guy.

  Bill walked through the six-foot gate and looked around. Kevin was still on the floor, covering his head. Bill reached a hand down. “It’s okay, Kevin. We’re in charge now.”

  As Kevin slowly levered himself off the ground, Bill finished his scan. One asshole was dead on the floor, and three more were standing with hands on their heads, staring at gun barrels.

  In Adam’s case, the gun barrel led back along the rifle to Monica’s grinning face. Bill admitted to a small bit of surprise that Adam was still alive. The woman was definitely wound a little tight.

  Yeah. I’m in love.

  84. Aftermath

  August 15

  The truck gate opened up, showing Lieutenant Collins and Corporal Chavez Earthside, with a row of military vehicles behind them. Erin and Richard walked through from Outland, with a couple of men trailing them, holding weapons. The troops looked around and took up guard positions.

  Introductions were made, and Richard said, “Thought you might want to come across and have a quick look. Then we’ll see about getting your vehicles placed.”

  Collins walked back through the gate with Erin and Richard. The lieutenant staggered a bit as he stepped through, as if he’d been bracing for something that turned out not to be there.

  Chavez, right behind them, chuckled. “Stevenson is probably peeing himself with excitement.”

  Collins swept his gaze over the colony, and Erin smiled as she copied his actions, trying to see it with fresh eyes. A sea of tents, large and small, occupied a large fenced area, with no discernible organization. Residents were scattered around, some working on tasks, some just enjoying the sunny day. In the distance, ranch-style fencing had been put up for cattle, sheep, and horses. Near at hand, people were getting up from whatever they had been doing and coming over to rubberneck. The buzz of conversation rose steadily in volume.

  Some adjustments were necessary to make room for the refugees and military personnel. Tents had to be moved. In a couple of cases, campers had set up small green spaces in front of their tents, which had to be given up. But the Guard personnel were quick and efficient. In no time, accommodations were up for the new residents.

  Along with many others, Erin was doing a bit of rubbernecking, when a familiar face caught her eye. “Oh my God! Professor Collins!” she yelled, and rushed over. Just in time, she noticed a woman and two adolescents standing near the professor, so she aborted the intended bear hug, instead grabbing his hand as she reached him.

  “Yellowstone erupted and it blew more than seven hundred cubic miles of ash into the air and on this side it blew sometime in the last one hundred thousand years and that’s what killed off humans over here and I think it left Nebraska with more hills and a higher ground level and the climate is cooler and wetter here and I don’t know if that’s global warming and without people the Pleistocene animals aren’t extinct!”

  Erin stopped and took a large breath. Professor Collins smiled at her and said, “We’ll go over that in detail later, I think. I’m glad to see you alive and well.”

  Erin smiled back timidly and turned to the woman beside Professor Collins. “I’m Erin. I’m one of his students.”

  The woman returned a friendly smile. “So I gathered. I’m Mary.” The two shook hands.

  Erin turned back to Professor Collins. “So how did you end up in the National Guard refugee camp?”

  The professor gave an embarrassed chuckle. “You’d think I’d know better than to stay in town, wouldn’t you?” He shrugged. “But it took too long to gather my family together, and by the time we were ready to head out, everything was gridlocked. We stayed home until the ash-fall stopped, with the intention of trying to get out of town then. But who should show up on my doorstep but my little brother in a big Hummer?”

  Erin was blank for a two-count. Then, “Lieutenant. Collins. Duh!”

  “Yep. Always good to have connections in the military. So how did you end up here?”

  Er
in looked down for a moment and considered. Where to begin?

  85. Redux

  August 16

  “There will be a memorial for Pete and Phil this afternoon. Scouts have found as much of their remains as they are likely to.” Richard looked around the table. Expressions ranged from unhappy to angry. “I guess we need a cemetery now.”

  “Maybe we should bring the thugs’ corpses through to Outland, and leave them out for the scavengers,” Monica suggested. “As an ironic justice kind of thing. Sure as hell I’m not interested in burying them.”

  “No one is, Monica. I just question if it’s worth the effort. On the other hand, Krista thinks leaving them in the parking lot is even worse, disease-wise. So go ahead, organize it if you want.”

  Richard waited for more comments, then gestured to Lieutenant Collins, who was seated at the table, and said, “We’re going to be having some in-depth discussions with the lieutenant, once the Guard is settled in, about government, law enforcement, and what to do with our failed revolutionaries. A firing squad being unlikely, we have to decide if we want to build a jail, exile them, or put them to work in leg irons for a few years.”

  Collins leaned forward. “This isn’t time-critical, so it’s better to get it right than to make a fast decision. Much harder to change direction later. For the moment, the Guard will take charge of the prisoners. There are latrines to dig and vehicles to wash, and my troops will be happy for the help.” He gestured to Monica. “We don’t do law enforcement, though, so you should probably vote your sheriff pro tem into a permanent position. I should also mention that my corporal has requested a discharge and will be joining your police department.”

  Bill started humming the Jaws theme, and Monica laughed.

  Richard nodded and swept the table with his gaze, signaling a change of subject. “On a happier note, I guess you’ve all heard the news. One of our scouting group got another of our scouting group pregnant. First of many, probably.”

  “Correct, as it turns out. I’ve had a couple of other women report that they’re late. We may be setting up for a baby boom next spring.” Krista looked down at her hands. “I’m going to have to make sure I’m ready for it. Matt, I’ll be updating my list. Beware.”

  Matt groaned theatrically and made as if to get up and leave.

  “How much of a problem is it? Or is it a problem?” Richard said.

  “Well, medically, yes. In about eight months, it will be,” Krista replied. “Before modern medicine, up to fifty percent of newborns didn’t survive past three months of age. We’ll beat that statistic, of course, because we know about sanitation. But we’ll be nowhere near the zero point six percent we’re used to in the modern world, not without some help. A lot of the supplies I’ll need will be in the University Health Center.”

  “If I could get the plumbing supplies from the Home Depot,” Bill said, “we’d have clean water.”

  “If we could go find a couple more vehicles,” Matt added, “we could do several of these important things at once!”

  “Actually, we can help you out there, since we have these army trucks sitting around now,” Lieutenant Collins pointed out. “But it would be handy to have fuel storage tanks on this side.”

  “Which also would be very handy,” Dick said, “for getting us construction supplies for those buildings for the winter …”

  “And I remind you, gentlemen,” Anita said, “that we still have to break ground before fall if you want spring wheat!”

  Richard put his head in his hands. “I quit.”

  Bill and Richard stood outside, surrounded by tables and stands covered with equipment, parts, and tools. Bill had two wind turbines up on stands. The turbines were slowly turning in a breeze that, Richard admitted to himself, didn’t seem strong enough to move anything.

  Bill watched his handiwork with obvious pride for a moment, then turned to the measuring instruments on the table. They had gathered a lot of equipment from one of those sustainable energy supply stores, most notably a large number of storage batteries and a charging system to buffer the generator output. The store had also contained a stack of solar panels, which were now leaning against the south side of one of the sheds.

  “We’ll put the solar panels on top of the sheds and add their output to the grid when we have time,” he said, as much to himself as to Richard.

  Richard stood there and waited. Bill would get there when he got there, and meanwhile Richard was content to let the day wash over him. The sun was shining—amazing, the weather on this side—and felt good warming his face.

  He’d had an unexpectedly good time today at breakfast when he ended up seated beside a girl named Suzie. She had told a fascinating tale of kidnap, revenge, and military night ops. Suzie was bright, interesting, and didn’t kill people. Richard felt a little ashamed of himself, but he had to admit that his budding interest in Monica hadn’t survived her display of bloodthirstiness. Bill was welcome to her. Or possibly Chavez. It was hard to tell with Monica.

  And for maybe the first time since he was eight years old, Richard felt at home. He had people whom he considered friends, whom he would trust with his life. As far as he was concerned, Earthside could go jump.

  Meanwhile, Bill’s monologue seemed to be running down. Richard started paying more attention.

  “There’s a pretty steady breeze from the west most days, and on balance it seems to be enough for us when we’re not running too much equipment, with a little left over to keep the batteries charged. The solar cells will add to that. And of course we can always add more turbines.”

  “So we have full-time electricity then?” Richard said.

  “For now. This is where I go on my rant again about becoming self-sufficient. We can’t rely on scavenging indefinitely. And once replacement parts become scarce, some of our tech won’t be sustainable.”

  “Yep. Got it. But this equipment”—Richard gestured at the windmill—“can be replicated with a lot less advanced engineering, right?”

  Bill looked over the assembly, silent for a few moments. “Suppose so. Worst case, we could even wind our own armatures for generators. Real pioneer stuff.”

  Richard grinned. “Next thing, we’ll be churning butter.”

  “Mmmmm … butter …” Bill replied.

  Richard laughed, gave a casual wave, and walked off, whistling the Andy Griffith theme.

  86. Planet Four

  August 17

  Bill put the panel back onto the portal generator that had been shot by the thugs, while Kevin watched.

  “And, done. I think we may have managed to salvage the device. Among their many failures, the morons shot it in the power supply. Those we can get anywhere.”

  Kevin considered. “We should probably test it.”

  Bill nodded, then a slow smile spread on his face. “Yes we should, Kevin. You know, we could test it by just connecting up to Earthside …”

  Kevin looked at Bill quizzically.

  “But we’ve done that so many times …” Bill continued.

  An expression of alarm quickly spread on Kevin’s face.

  “And we do have the pressure vessel, so it would be safe …”

  Kevin’s head began shaking back and forth, faster and faster.

  “And you can’t tell me you aren’t curious …”

  Kevin backed away, while continuing to shake his head emphatically.

  “Oh, come on, Kevin. Don’t you wonder even a little bit?”

  “Wonder about what?” They both turned to see Monica walking up.

  “Bill wants to test the portal repairs by trying to find a new Earth,” Kevin said.

  “So what’s the hold-up?”

  Bill laughed, while Kevin looked at them both and said, “Oh, God, I’m surrounded by lunatics.”

  “It’s okay, Kevin,” Bill said. “We’ve got the pressure vessel, like I said. Richard’s dead-man switch is a good piece of engineering, though you didn’t hear it from me. We’d just have it on fo
r a second or two.”

  Kevin looked back and forth between Bill and Monica, then slumped, defeated. “Okay, but if anyone asks, I’m telling them you threatened me.”

  Bill and Monica both laughed, and they started setting up. Bill moved the pressure vessel into position, while Kevin disassembled the pole-cam. In a half-hour or so, they had everything set up, and the video image on the tablet showed a deactivated gate.

  “Should we stand outside the shed?” Kevin asked.

  “Honestly, if we end up destroying the shed, I think I’d rather go up with it,” Bill replied.

  Somehow Kevin managed to look even more alarmed.

  “Enough jawing,” Monica said. “Push the button, dammit.”

  Bill smiled at her, held up the tablet, and pressed “OK.”

  There was the usual momentary blurring, then the video showed an image of dense forest.

  “Maybe more like jungle,” Monica said in response to the unspoken thought. “There are a lot of ferns and vines in there.”

  As they watched, an animal entered the field of view. It was bipedal, about four feet tall, with bright patterned plumage in a predominantly red pattern. It also had taloned forearms and sharp teeth.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Bill said. “Is that … a velociraptor?”

  “It just might be,” Monica replied, awe in her voice. She and Bill exchanged grins. “Guess what we’re doing next?”

  “That’s it,” Kevin said. “I quit.”

  END

  About the Author

  I am a computer programmer by day, a writer by night, and a snowboarder when in season. I’ve been reading science fiction for {mumble} years, and now find myself on the other end of the pen.

  About the Publisher

  This book is published on behalf of the author by the Ethan Ellenberg Literary Agency.