Yanked (David Brin's Out of Time Book 1)

by Nancy Kress

  "Notice how clean the outlines are. They must have had robot help...at first," Sharon pointed, then at the end of the long row, where the last few graves looked more ragged, and four rusted hulks could be seen, still looking like moldering, larger, older versions of da Vinci. "The kids, they must have dug the last few themselves by hand."

  Again, the Yanks lapsed into silence. It was one thing to talk about this calamity in the abstract, but this graveyard brought it all home, and Jason felt his eyes start to go blurry. One reason he did not speak was that he did not trust his voice not to shake.

  "I can draw no information from the memory cells of these robots,” da Vinci said. "They have been ruined by exposure to the elements. But we can tell two things.First, human survivors directed this work and finished it themselves, by hand."

  "And second?" Robbie asked. He was clearly the least affected by this tragic scene.

  "Second, that someone or something recently disturbed these graves. Note that they all feature a small hole in the earth at one end as if an animal had burrowed within.”

  Jason stepped back from the nearest burial, made nervous by the image of some snakelike thing. He now saw what da Vinci meant.

  "Could...could this disturbance of the graves be connected to what happened to the ship-kids?"

  "Impossible to say without further data."

  Jofrid was staring, wide-eyed. "If faerie creatures did this, then it might have terrified the children. They may have fled, seeking safety in yonder hills.

  “Improbable,” da Vinci said. “More likely, they are barricaded inside.”

  “But why?”

  “Just good sense,” Robbie repeated, with some satisfaction. Jason could see that Robbie wasn’t unhappy that Jason was wrong. “Keep locked up tight against thievery, guv’nor.”

  “Like yours, I suppose,” Sor said coldly. He was carrying the baby again. This time Jason said nothing about that. He’d antagonized everyone enough already. Time to act like a leader.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. It’s almost dark. We’re going to make camp over there, a good distance from this cemetery..." He saw some Yanks nod quickly in relief over that. "but close enough to see if anybody comes out of the ship during the night. We’re going to light a few fires, both so’s the kids inside can see us and so’s we can use torches against any pigbirds that bother us in the night. We’re going to stand guard in shifts, two hours on each, all night.”

  “A good plan,” Sor said, nodding. “Is that how life is arranged in your native Manhattan?”

  Actually, Jason had seen the guarding-the-camp-all-night stuff in some movie, but no need to tell Sor that. Instead, Jason said, “Does anybody have anything to add?”

  “What do we eat?” Robbie said.

  “Good question. Sor?”

  “In the morning, I can test the fruit on those purple bushes for edibility,” Sor said. “I have the right instrument to do that. Meanwhile, our packs have a limited amount of liquid nutrients. The colony kids had better open up tomorrow, or we’ll run out of food and have to t-port back tomorrow at sunset.”

  “We aren’t t-porting back without that communication cube,” Jason said firmly. “Unless you mean we just send somebody for a quick trip to pick up supplies.”

  “We can do that,” Sor said.

  “Good. What about water?”

  Jofrid said, “This land has many springs, like Iceland. I noticed two as we walked here. If the water proves clear and clean, we could camp beside a spring.”

  “Okay, back to the spring,” Jason said. “That’s water solved. Now all we got to do is last twenty-four hours in the cold.”

  Sor smiled. “Not even that. You’ll be surprised how warm your s-suit keeps you. And the liquid nutrient is laced with hormonal additives to quell appetite.”

  Jason wasn’t sure what that meant, but he decided not to ask. No use looking even more uninformed than he already felt. Trying to look in command, he followed Jofrid to a sheltered place between two slight hills with a clear view of the Discovery. A small spring bubbled from a fuzzy purple hillside. Sor tested the water using a device in his pouch, and said, “Clean and drinkable. You each have an expandable cup in the sleeve of your s-suit. Use it this way.”

  Sor was right; the water tasted wonderful.

  Without being asked, Jofrid gathered sticks and hands-full of old-dead vines to start two small fires.

  “Hey, thanks, Jofrid,” Jason said, smiling at her. She didn’t smile back. Still mad because he criticized the baby.

  “You did that so fast,” Sor said. “How did you know what would burn? And how did you start the fire?”

  Jofrid did smile at Sor. “This land looks like my homestead at Langarfoss. There I feed the fires for cooking when the thralls are busy elsewhere. I lit the fire with this.” From a pocket on her green dress, she pulled what looked to Jason like two rocks.

  “A flint fire-maker,” Sor said. “Good." Then he added in a low voice tinged with respect, "I am descended from ingenious folk.”

  The five Yanks sat with da Vinci around the fire, drinking liquid food from long flexible tubes that turned out to have been sewn into the backs of their s-suits. Jason hadn’t even known they were there. The stuff, whatever it was, tasted good. Even Tara sucked at it greedily. The night air felt cool and bracing on Jason’s face, but everywhere else, his suit bathed him in warmth.

  “Hey,” Jason said suddenly. “What about Tara? She doesn’t have an s-suit to keep her warm.”

  “I know,” Sharon said.

  Jason remembered how he’d first seen Tara: tucked inside Sharon’s bulky winter coat. “Can you stick that baby down inside your suit with you?”

  “I tried. She won’t fit.”

  Jofrid said, “I can give you my wool dress to wrap her in overnight. Only...” Her voice trailed off.

  She doesn’t want to wear a tight suit in front of guys, Jason thought. How did he know that? In his time, babes turned up at the beach―even at school―in clothes that left nothing to anyone’s imagination. But Jofrid, Jason sensed, was different. Girls from 900-whatever Iceland didn’t go to sleepovers without lots of body-hiding wool around themselves. Still, here was Jofrid offering anyway, so Tara wouldn’t freeze.

  The only other one with personal clothing on top of the s-suit was Robbie. Jason waited for him to offer his clothes to Tara, but he didn’t. The runty street thief went on sucking his dinner from a tube, smacking his lips and ignoring Sharon and Jofrid.

  What else besides a knife did Robbie have hidden in those loose inside pockets? If Jason asked, Robbie probably wouldn’t tell him.

  Sor said coldly, “Robbie, Sharon needs your clothing to keep Tara warm.”

  Robbie said cheerfully, “Can’t do it, guv’nor. Robbie don’t part with his togs for nobody.”

  Sharon said quickly, “That’s all right. They’re...never mind, it’s all right.”

  “They’re filthy anyway,” Sor said. “You’re right, Sharon. The baby would probably come down with the bubonic plague.”

  “Bubonic plague was not active in London in 1810,” da Vinci said helpfully. “Although it should be noted that Robbie’s garments do indeed carry fleas. However, the—”

  “Fleas!” Sor said in total horror. He and Sharon instantly moved farther away from Robbie. Jofrid looked puzzled. All of a sudden, Jason realized that Jofrid might have fleas too. In 900-whatever, weren’t fleas common? Or not? Jason wished he’d paid more attention in history class.

  Da Vinci was still talking. “―problem of keeping Tara warm is easily solved. I am able to generate heat along the length of every limb. Give me the baby.”

  “Well...” Sharon said.

  “It’s quite all right, Sharon.” Sor smiled. “Da Vinci is absolutely reliable about his own programming.”

  Sharon handed Tara, who was nodding sleepily, to the robot. It laid her on a cushion of vines, then lowered its tin-can body to the ground beside her. With its tentacle
s, it made a circle around Tara. Sharon put her hand inside it.

  “Why, your arms are just like electric heaters, da Vinci! It’s like Tara’s lying in a heated bed!”

  Jason had a sudden unpleasant thought. When the pigbirds had gone howling by, da Vinci had gone into “contemplation” mode, shutting down. What if some new alien animal showed up during the night and da Vinci shut down again? Would Tara freeze?

  Jason decided not to mention that. Probably if Tara got cold enough, she’d wake up and start yelling. Anyway, it was Sharon’s problem.

  But there was a problem that was his. He sat up on guard shift, thinking about it. There was nothing to see anywhere around him except darkness, smelling a little like lemons, and the low flames of the two small fires, so he had a lot of time to think.

  He was supposed to be the leader of this mission. But they’d only been on Jump a few hours, and already Jason had everybody on his team mad at him, except da Vinci. Sharon and Jofrid were upset because Jason didn’t like Tara. Robbie was out of control―he’d never been in control. He’d use knives or anything else he felt like, no matter what Jason said, and smile sunnily while he did it. Sor was polite to Jason― that guy would be polite on the Titanic while it sank under him―but Jason had also seen the doubt in Sor’s eyes. Sor wasn’t sure Jason could lead this mission. All Jason had done so far was yell at the girls, make Tara cry, and give Robbie orders that Robbie didn’t follow.

  And I was wrong to rush ahead to meet the t-port deadline. That's the biggest thing. Overconfidence and bravado. One day. Just one and we'd have been organized. We'd know each other. Have the weapons and supplies sorted out, but we're stuck with the decision and must make the best of it.

  Things were going to have to change, Jason realized. He was going to have to turn it around. By himself. Think more before he spoke.

  Accept that Tara was here, at least until the t-port opened tomorrow night.

  Remember that these kids weren’t like the buds and babes at Benjamin Franklin High. They were whole different stories. Jofrid believed in trolls and evil spirits. Robbie was used to stealing whatever he needed and fighting to keep it. Sharon had some kind of weird super responsibility thing for that baby. And Sor turned pale at the first sign of anybody dissing anybody, even at stuff that in Manhattan would just be buds hanging together and joshing.

  He sighed. This mission was going to be more complicated than he thought. And that was before they even got inside the Discovery to look for the communications cube!

  Still, it was his mission. His, Jason Trayvon Ramsay. And he was going to do it, and keep his team together in the meantime. Stay focused. Make it work.

  He even had some ideas on how he might do that.

  Chapter Eight

  When Sharon awoke in the morning, everybody else was already up. Instantly she groped by her side for Tara. Then she saw that the baby sat on the ground a few feet away, sucking on a tube of nutrients left over from the night before. Bits of leaves clung to Tara’s hair and overalls, but she smiled happily and waved her chubby fists in the air.

  “Hey, Sharon. Morning,” Jason said. “How you doin’ today?”

  Sharon looked at him. He seemed a lot friendlier than he had the night before. Maybe something good had happened. She said, “Good morning. Did the colony kids open up the Discovery for us?”

  “Not yet,” Jason said. “But they will today. You need anything for Tara?”

  Sharon just stared. Jofrid, sitting on a rock nearby, rolled her eyes. Sharon managed, “No, thanks.”

  “Then you get yourself put together soon as you can. We’re going to crack that starship!” Jason went off whistling.

  Sharon whispered to Jofrid, “Why is he in such a good mood?”

  “I don’t know. He praised me much for my rope.”

  “Rope? You know how to make rope?”

  Shyly, Jofrid showed her. Jofrid had cut some of the vines that grew all over the ground and stripped off all the tiny purple leaves. The stems were long, flexible, and very tough. Jofrid had braided them together for even greater strength.

  “Great,” Sharon said. “What will you do with the rope?”

  “Set snares for a pigbird. Robbie can kill it with his knife, and we'll roast it.”

  Sharon was horrified. “Eat one of those awful pigbirds? Ugh! And Jofrid, you don’t even know if it’s poisonous. Besides, Sor is going to go back through the t-port tonight and bring back supplies.”

  “What we wish does not always come to pass,” Jofrid said. “It’s best to be prepared for the worst. Sor can test the pigbird meat in his device. He already tested the purple fruit. We can eat them. Have one.”

  She held out a piece of fruit to Sharon. It was the color of a plum but the size of an apple, with smooth, shiny skin. Sharon said, “No, thanks. I better see to Tara.”

  “I changed her wrappings,” Jofrid said. “I hope you don’t mind. Jason said to let all sleep who could do so.”

  Sharon went over to Tara. How could Jofrid have “changed her wrappings”? Sharon had no extra diapers with her, a fact that worried her. She opened Tara’s snowsuit and investigated.

  Jofrid had removed the baby’s dirty diaper, washed her, and put on a new diaper made of Tara’s thin tee-shirt filled with a soft moss that Sharon could see would absorb moisture just fine. “What a good idea!”

  “It is how we do at Langarfoss,” Jofrid said. Her eyes glowed at Sharon’s praise.

  Why, she likes me! Sharon thought, wonderingly. She wants to be friends!

  The two girls smiled at each other. Sharon said, “Would you show me how to make rope from vines? And to start fires, the way you did last night?”

  “Yes,” Jofrid said happily. “Will you teach me the sagas of your homestead?”

  “What are sagas?”

  “Stories and poems. I would like to be a skald one day, even though the Allthing says no woman must do so.”

  “Sure, I’ll teach you poems and stories,” Sharon said. “I love English class. What’s a skald?”

  “A teller of sagas and ballads,” Jofrid said.

  “Pooh, girls can do that,” said Sharon. “Hey, why is Jason waving at us like that?”

  Jofrid looked. “I think he wants us to go with him and Sor. Where’s Robbie?”

  “I don’t know, but we better go with Jason. Maybe the colony kids have opened up the Discovery to let us in.”

  That, however, had not happened.

  The five Yanks and da Vinci approached the Discovery the same way they had the night before, circling the whole ship and knocking on every door or bay. Nothing opened up. When they were back where they’d started, da Vinci said, “They don’t respond.”

  “No kidding,” Jason said. “The next move is up to us. Can they see us out here, even without opening any windows?”

  “Oh, yes,” da Vinci said. “The Discovery is equipped with 360-degree viewscreens.”

  “Great,” Jason said. “Then we’re gonna give them something to look at.”

  “What?” Sor said.

  “First, the whole story of why we’re here. The t-porting, the communication cube, the Third Step for humankind, the Panurish...all of it. Da Vinci’s gonna do that.”

  “I am?” da Vinci said.

  “You sure are,” Jason answered. “You tell information real good, so you stand here and say the whole story over and over, da Vinci.”

  “As you wish,” the robot said.

  Sor said, “And what are we going to do?”

  Jason said, “We’re going to play football.”

  The others looked at him as if he’d gone nuts. Football? Sharon thought. What good would that do?

  Sor said, “What’s football?”

  “See, that’s the thing,” Jason said. “You don’t know football in 2336."

  "We do have games, you know. They can feature exertion and hard competition." Sor seemed a bit miffed. "We are not decadent and useless, Jason. And there is even a version of foot
ball." Then, as if fearing he had been rude, he admitted, "Of course, we stop all play if anyone is injured, and the problem is investigated."

  "Okay, great!” Jason slapped Sor's back in a comradely gesture.

  "The kids inside the Discovery—if they're there—may be too scared of us to answer our calls and knocks. When they see us all running and hollering and having a great time playing, they’ll be curious. They’ll also know for sure we're kids from Earth.”

  Sharon found the whole idea dubious. But maybe it was a guy thing? Or Jason reaching for a solution from the part of life he knew best.

  “Me and Robbie will be one team,” Jason said, “and Sor and Sharon and Jofrid will be the other.”

  “Me?” Sharon said. “I don’t know how to play football!”

  Jason smiled at her, the same smile he’d given her at the campfire. He was certainly being nicer this morning. “That’s good, Sharon,” Jason said. “It’s good you don’t know, because neither does Sor or Robbie or Jofrid, so we’ll all be sort of even. Me too, because even though I know what the football rules are, my high school doesn’t have a football team. I played basketball.”

  Sor said, “Then why don’t you teach us basketball instead?”

  Sharon said, “We are not even. Look how much bigger you are, Jason. What if somebody gets hurt?”

  Robbie said, “Robbie’s not much for games, guv’nor.”

  Jofrid said, “Perhaps we should try to snare an animal to eat instead?”

  Jason went on smiling, but the expression looked a bit strained, and he ran a hand over his hair like he didn’t know he was doing it. Sharon felt a little sorry for him. He was trying so hard to be a leader.

  Carefully Jason said, “We’re not going to play basketball because we got no hoop and nothing to fasten a hoop onto. It’s true I’m the biggest one here, but the teams are sort of even because mine only has two players and you got three. Nobody’s gonna get hurt because we’re going to play touch, not tackle. We don’t need to trap an animal to eat because the colony kids are going to open up soon. And Robbie, you’re going to be fine as a player. Good. Great. You’re fast, and you dodge well.”