by Wesley Chu
“There is an enemy on the island, killing and destroying our way of life. They enslave the tribes and take their buildings. Many of you have seen them firsthand and now flee for your lives. We know of this enemy. They are powerful, armed with technology and terrible weapons. The enemy are known as Valta and ChronoCom, and they are unrelenting. They came to Boston and we ran. They destroyed our friends and neighboring tribes, and we ran. Now, they are here on the Mist Isle and we know that there is no place to run. The Elfreth will stay and fight.
“As you can tell, we have technology of our own, and we have supplies. We are organized. However, we cannot do this alone. Help us. Join with us. Many tribes together can form a stronger nation than many tribes apart. If we work together, we can defend our floors and buildings. We can care for each other, share food and resources. Together, we can fight for the isle and push back the enemy.”
“Would we all bow to you then, Elise Kim of the Elfreth?” one of the leaders stood up and asked. “Would we all become Elfreth?”
A chorus of no’s rang across the room. Surprisingly, there were less than she thought there would be. It was a point of contention, though. These tribes were very independent and fiercely defended their identity. To ask them to join would be to tell them they were no longer the people they were. The grousing and arguments got louder, so much so that James moved protectively in front of the podium again. Eventually, the chatter died down, to her mild surprise, without her intervening. She waited patiently until all eyes focused back on her.
“Talk among us is good,” she said. “It facilitates cooperation and ideas. As long as it does not lead to violence, we all should talk more. Well, except for my friend Teacher Crowe of the Flatirons.” She gestured at him in the front row. “He talks far too much.” She was met by a chorus of laughter. The old chief grinned good-naturedly.
“You will not be Elfreth,” she continued. “You will still be your tribe. You can come and go as you please if it suits your people. However, we all will have an identity that binds us. The Mist Isle was once known as Manhattan. Why don’t we honor that name once more?”
A new chorus of calls erupted, but this time, the tone had changed. Instead of trying to find reasons to say no or to quarrel, the leaders of the assorted tribes were now asking for details. How would the work and floors be shared? How would influence be divided? Would there be a council? Would every tribe have a vote? Who would be in charge?
The questions were endless. However, it had taken a herculean effort to get all of these people into one room, and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. Elise began to jot down the many questions thrown her way and then began to knock them down one by one. All the leaders had their own ideas of what Manhattan should be, and they all agreed to disagree on the same and opposite things. Everyone wanted everything, yet at the same time everyone wanted to give up nothing. The next few hours were some of the most frustrating in Elise’s life.
In the end, though, well after night had settled over the isle, the Nation of the Unified Tribes of Manhattan was born—it was a dumb and tedious name, one that could only have been born from committee, where no one was happy with the end result, but they had wasted an hour debating it, and this was the best they could agree on. Damn bureaucracy. To her surprise, fewer than ten of the leaders had walked out during the entire process, and all but one eventually returned. All they had left to do was figure out the details, which, as her mom liked to say, was where the devil resided, but that could wait until tomorrow.
An exhausted but exuberant Elise walked up to a waiting James and leaned on him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Straight to bed, mister, because I’m going to sleep until next month.”
“You have to do this all over again first thing tomorrow,” he said.
“I was being facetious. Just hold me and tell me I did a good job.”
He squeezed her tightly. “Elise, that was spectacular. You accomplished something that no one in generations was able to do, and you did so without firing a shot. Or a third shot, anyway.”
“Well, fear and a common enemy help just a little,” she said.
James shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. These people came to this meeting because they saw something in the decisions you made, and they came together tonight as a group. I am so proud of you.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, and all the tension and stress she had carried fell away. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. When they finally came apart, she beamed. “Remember our first date back on Nutris? You finally figured out the right things to say to a girl. Come on, let’s go to bed and you can tell me more about how well I did today.”
THIRTY-ONE
UNSETTLED
James watched in the corner, out of the way, as Sasha worked in Elise’s lab. Titus had confirmed his diagnosis that she was indeed suffering from Terravira mononucleosis, commonly caused by a combination of an unsuspecting immune system and the Earth Plague. Franwil was able to barter for some herbs, Levin salvaged some medical supplies from the past, and Grace built a single-punch tablet machine on the fly. It was a group effort, and for that, James was grateful. Sasha was doing better, though her cough lingered, and she tired quickly, but the pink had returned to her face, and she was more active now than in recent memory.
Right now, his sister was dousing a row of plants with a chemical formula Elise had created. Prior to her coming to the present, Sasha couldn’t read or write. Now she was assisting scientists with experiments. James’s chest swelled with pride. His hands quivered—he blamed it on his emotions—as she hummed to herself and went about her business. He watched as she carefully checked the samples for traces of the Earth Plague and jotted notes on a piece of cloth.
Black abyss, he berated himself. He was starting to think like a parent. “Can you take a break and go on a walk with your brother?”
Sasha, face full of concentration, shook her head. “Elise needs to spend more time talking to the other leaders of the tribes. She’s depending on me to make sure all these samples are cared for. It’s a big job.”
“It is indeed,” he said. “When will you finish?”
“When Sammuia and Rima come back. They’re going to teach me how to make traps and Sammuia says I should learn how to cut a spear from a blood stalk.”
James wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It was a good skill for the Mist Isle, though. The floors on some of these buildings were as wild and dense as any jungle he’d visited. This may not have been the life he had envisioned for his sister, but the more time they spent with the Elfreth, the more he was confident that he was giving her a good life, no matter the challenges.
“I guess you don’t have any time for your big brother anymore.”
“Don’t be silly, James,” she replied. “We’ll have all the time in the world. Just later.”
He had to remind himself that they looked at things differently. For him, she had been gone for almost twenty years. Twenty dark, painful, guilt-ridden years. Sasha standing here was a miracle, one that had only existed in his dreams.
To his sister, he was still the same old James, her brother who took care of her, made sure she was safe, and told her what to do. Sure, he was different, bigger, more wrinkled, and not as funny, but he was still just James. Sasha hadn’t had many good memories or friends as a child, so James wasn’t going to fault her for making new ones. She was just a kid, and boring old James was just that. Boring. He reminded himself that this was just Sasha being a typical ten-year-old girl. This was normal.
Elise too had other priorities. The line out of her office—she actually had an office!—sometimes stretched all the way down the hall. People had to make appointments with her. She even had an assistant. Elise had changed from a frightened, temporally-displaced woman into the leader of the Elfreth, and now the new figurehead of a new nation, all in the span of a year. That woman was amazing.
Both had moved on. He wasn’t
the center of either of their lives anymore. Hell, he wasn’t important to anyone. It had been weeks since anyone had come to him for help, with a request, or even questions. At first, it felt great not to have that responsibility, but now, now he felt useless and unwanted.
A shrill whistle snapped him back to reality. He had a sour taste in his mouth. Self-pity was a weak trait quickly weaned out of all initiates at the Academy. Those who wallowed too much usually washed out within the first year. He had to be better than this. Sasha and Elise deserved it. Still, the hurt in his chest was there.
“James,” Sasha said, “can you take the kettle off and put a thermometer in there? Let me know when it’s exactly twenty-seven degrees Celsius.”
“Yes, Dr. Sasha.” He hopped off the table and walked across the room to the electric grill.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m not a doctor yet, but Elise and Grace said I can be one day if I work hard and read the books they got me. Grace calls me a doctor-in-training.”
James’s heart almost leaped out of his chest, and tears welled in his eyes. “You sure can,” he choked. “Explain what you’re doing, doctor-in-training Sasha?”
Sasha was happy to chatter on about what she had learned. He could feel how much she loved and trusted him, and that meant the world still. James couldn’t believe how much she had picked up in such a short time in the lab.
“Elder James,” Wari, one of the guardians, called. “A voom approaches from the south.”
“The Frankenstein?”
“Flyguard Chawr says no. He says the Frankenstein is not expected for seven days.”
James grabbed his large gauss launcher from the counter. It was an older model Levin had scrounged from the Tech Wars. Its accuracy was awful, but the thing could take a beating, get wet and dirty, and still do its job. In a place such as this, reliability was an important attribute to have. It was also the only hand cannon in the tribe that had the kick of a tank. He jogged to the southern side of the building and leaned against the wall next to the window.
Ships rarely got this close to the All Galaxy. The density of buildings in this area made it hard for them to maneuver. Nonetheless, Co-op patrols had increased as of late. Three times this week, a scout ship had passed nearby, weaving slowly through the fog. All of the tribes in the area knew the importance of staying below the enemy’s radar.
Any time one of their ships came close, a network of younger children would race through all the floors shouting warnings. The All Galaxy would change from a well-lit and bustling hive to just another dead husk in a sea of darkened buildings. Entire city blocks could go completely dark and quiet within minutes. This was critical, because if the Co-op ever found them, they could make a beeline right to their location.
At first, he heard nothing but the squawking of birds. The Mist Isle had a life of its own, with several species of predatory birds flying above the city, and thousands of other species living inside. Then he heard it, barely perceptible over the white noise, a soft grinding roar. He could tell that now-familiar sound from half a kilometer away.
“It’s the Frankenstein,” he said to Wari. “Stand down. Alert the others.”
James trotted down to the landing deck on the seventy-third floor. Already, a dozen Elfreth had congregated on the balcony. The flyguards were there as well, ready to service the collie and prep it for its next flight. He wandered to the edge and looked down the skyscraper as the Frankenstein climbed up its side. One of these days, the Co-op was going to figure out that they were using the Battery Tunnel to sneak into Manhattan. Most of the underwater passages were blocked, but that particular one was wide enough for the collie to navigate slowly around the debris.
Combined with the collie’s stealth technologies and the EMP fog on the island, it was all but impossible for surveillance to track the ship’s movements. As long as the enemy continued to overlook the underwater passages, they could continue their operations.
The collie, still dripping wet, rose to the third roof, two-thirds up the building. James moved out of the way as it hovered over the platform and parked with a soft hiss. A few minutes later, Grace and Levin stepped out. The flyguards leaped into action and began to prep it right away for another flight. At the same time, a dozen of the younger Elfreth ran inside to unload the cargo. James walked to the edge of the roof and scanned the area: nothing but gray haze.
He looked back at Grace as she approached. “You’re back early.”
She jabbed a thumb behind her. “We had a little incident with a major ripple. The good auditor canceled the last jump.”
James raised an eyebrow. “I told you he was awfully sensitive about stuff like that, and about the Time Laws specifically. Good job writing them. The rest of us have had to deal with those rules for centuries now.”
She scowled and stomped away.
Levin appeared from inside the collie. “We need to talk.”
“Can it wait until we finish unloading and get the collie covered up?”
“No, James, it can’t.”
James had known the man long enough to know he was serious. James was reminded of the many times he had been called into the auditor’s office for a dressing-down. He noticed the Elfreth porters shooting glances their way. Every community gossiped, even wasteland tribes living in ruined decaying cities. Especially them, actually. The last thing the already-frazzled tribe needed was more gossip.
He motioned for Levin to follow him to the other end of the deck. He rounded on him once he was sure they were out of earshot. “First of all, don’t voice your disagreement in front of the Elfreth. They are following us on loyalty and faith. The last thing we need is to give them doubt.”
“The Elfreth will do as they’re told,” Levin said.
“They’re not chronmen you can order around,” James snapped. “They require a more delicate hand.”
“Like yours, James?”
“Don’t start with me, Levin. Now, what’s got you all knotted up this time?”
Levin didn’t bother lowering his voice. “We’re doing this all wrong.”
“That’s a little broad,” James replied dryly. “Which exact part of this are we not doing right, because I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of things we’re messing up.”
Levin motioned at the group of Elfreth unloading the supplies. “I just almost caused a major time ripple getting a bunch of bullshit supplies.”
“Those bullshit supplies are what’s keeping you fed and the lights powered on.”
“It’s a bad use of resources and an even worse use of the chronostream.”
None of this was news to James. He had had these exact same thoughts when he was the one doing jumps. He sat down at the edge of the roof and glanced over, seeing the writhing mist roll and bubble in the air. The drop was hundreds of meters, but the fog looked so thick it seemed like he could step onto it. If he squinted and angled his head, he could just make out a figure dancing in the mists. The figure stopped, and then walked directly toward him. James recoiled as Smitt appeared and leaped onto the edge of the balcony.
“You should try it sometime,” his former handler said, balancing precariously on the ledge. “If I jump over the side, will you catch me, my friend? Oh, yeah, you’re not wearing your bands anymore. You gave them to Levin. Now why would you do something so foolish? Remember what he did to Landon?”
“I’ll never forget,” he muttered.
“Did you say something?” Levin frowned. “You’re acting strange.”
“What’s wrong with the Elfreth?” James asked, tearing his gaze away from his dead friend. He felt a sudden prick of anger at Levin’s words. “The Elfreth took Elise and me in. They fed and sheltered us while you assholes tried to kill us. Not only that, they’re the ones living off the land that the rest of us destroyed, and they’re the ones trying to help us save it. Not the planetary governments, not ChronoCom, and as sure as abyss, not the megacorporations.”
James never realized how protec
tive he had become of the Elfreth until an outsider—James still considered Levin one—spoke ill of them. It was less than a year ago that he had been just as disdainful. Now, after everything they’d done for him, he was ready to defend them with his life. He didn’t even realize how angry he was with Levin until he caught himself balling his hands into fists.
To his surprise, and for the first time that he could remember, Levin backed down. “You’re right. Those were unkind words. The Elfreth have been supportive, and I had no right speaking like that. However, I stand by my point. We’re doing it wrong.”
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“We’re trying to solve a global pandemic with local resources. We, the Elfreth, and Elise, won’t be able to carry out the plan even if we did find a cure. These primitives are barely able to keep the lights on, let alone work on a problem this big. We’re going into this alone and it’s not getting us anywhere.”
“Says the guy who’s been with us for, what, a couple of weeks? Says the guy who was responsible for attacking the Elfreth in the first place.”
“I was doing the right thing at the time.” Levins voice grew louder. “You’re in this situation because you got emotional. That’s what got you into trouble in the first place.”
“Seems doing the right thing got you into trouble as well, except you took a detour through prison.”
“Only because I went after you.”