Project Dystopia (The Directorate Book 8)

by Pam Uphoff

  She shook her head at him. "We're probably going to be in trouble over it. But Dear One, this would have been so much worse without it."

  "I will be in trouble. You merely used it when things got desperate. I acquired it, brought it with me, through multiple gates, in and out of the home world. Multiple offenses."

  "Oh. Hmm." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I grew up much more law abiding than you. I try to do thing legally, even when it's not the best way. You . . . were prepared for the worst and didn't hesitate when it was needed. Legal consequences bedamned. You terrify me sometimes, when I stop and think about it. And I love you."

  "Yeah well . . . how can I resist something that makes it so easy for me to show off? And you're scarier than I am. You can see things I can't see and do things I'd leave to a team of surgeons to muck around with and not do as well as you do. And I love you, even though you shoot better than I do."

  She snorted and pushed him away. "It's not a compliment competition. Get. I'm on duty. Go away. I'll work on their ears a tiny bit every day, and they'll be fine in a week or two. And no joy juice for them. They aren't human, and we don't know how it might affect them."

  "Good point." Ebsa hustled the kids out and got to work on lunch.

  Iqgu stopped by. "I was wondering if I should put you on the watch rotation."

  "Yeah, might as well. How about midnight to oh-eight-hundred with breaks for breakfast prep? When all is quiet. If things are edgy, it'll be fab food."

  "You've got the schedule from hell don't you?"

  "Cooking is not for the faint of heart. Any days I'm off guard duty, I'll still be up by five at the latest, so you'll have an extra pair of eyes up and hopefully alert about then."

  Ebsa mopped sweat off his face and eyed the sun. "It's not officially summer yet. So . . . how hot is it going to be in two, three months?"

  "The instrument readings in the records topped out at forty-six centigrade. The doc's always talked about avoiding heat stroke as one thing to watch for, here. We ignored his talks all winter. Stupid of us." Iqgu eyed the dough he was rolling around meat and vegetables. "I never realized how dangerous flour could be."

  "The very fine stuff—and fabbed flour can be very fine—in a thin suspension in still dry air—is very dangerous. "

  "Yeah, Ocho explained it to me. He said we were lucky all of it wasn't in suspension like that. Most of it just burned, he said. Just."

  Ebsa nodded. "I . . . refuse to indulge in 'I should haves' or 'if onlys.' Can't have a redo."

  Would it have been better if I didn't go to the coast camp? Paer would have gone alone, or with one of Ocho's crew for the tire replacement. Maybe, if they'd had any sense, they'd have given up and come back. The kids would have died all unknown, in the museum. Or if I'd even just gotten back half an hour earlier and taken over the kitchen, I might have prevented the explosion and fire.

  Or been in the middle of it and died. So, just shut up, Ebsa, and cook your sausage rolls. And don't tell anyone that it's rat.

  ***

  The next two days were much the same. The kids loved the magic practice. He added a bit of basic karate. Which was totally cute in Ngorei's case. Ebsa suspected Zhodan might be quite good with practice. He had speed, even at his young age. Whatever that was, for an Elf.

  A few people eyed the meat in their meals, but no one asked. Then when he ran out of rat, he got complaints about the fab meat being too squishy. Ebsa rather hoped he wouldn't get a resupply of rat . . . and wondered if he ought not be hoping for a resupply. Under controlled conditions, please!

  Ocho bulldozed a track around the concrete slab. Six meters wide. Ebsa coated it with insecticides, and Iqgu eyed it and said he hoped they could keep the rats further away, but this would at least keep the insects under control.

  ***

  The bug swarms were getting smaller, and a recce out to the nearest sinkhole showed the water level only a dozen meters from the surface.

  "So with luck we've seen the worst of the bugs, there's no place left to flush more of them out of." Wxxo sighed. "So long as that doesn't mean they start breeding."

  Ebsa looked east, shading his eyes. "Still plenty of snow. Do we know anything about the drainage?"

  Ocho nodded. "The elevation drops to the south. Gradually, and there are rivers cutting canyons through. Under other circumstances I'd go take a look. I suspect there are springs and waterfalls all up and down the cliffs."

  Wxxo stared down into the flooded sinkhole. "Ebsa, how are we doing for food?"

  "The fabs are probably good for two months. If I stretch it out with rat, four months."

  Wxxo winced. "Dr. Ijho ran a genetic analysis of the rats. They were genetically engineered with some cattle genes, and their size genes altered. Best guess is the colonists lost all their livestock and tried to make their only meat source more . . . palatable."

  "Hmm, what about the bugs?"

  "Those are all native. A response to the conditions here."

  Ocho glanced upward. "The Sun? I've heard the theory that it's more variable than ours, with occasional extremes."

  Ebsa nodded. “There was a picture, a chart of the sunspot cycle, down in the museum that seemed to indicate that . . . well, no doubt the scientists are studying it.”

  "Yeah." Wxxo turned away from the sinkhole and headed back to the ute. "And of course then they started arguing about whether this is one of the bad cycles."

  ***

  By the fifth day, the rats had finished off their cannibalistic feast and turned to hunting bugs, and scouting around the camp.

  They killed two overnight, as they jumped the wall. They dragged the carcasses further away the next morning.

  Iqgu glared when he saw Ebsa eyeing the bodies. "I'm not ready for rat meat, yet."

  "And hopefully never will need to be." Ebsa kept his expression indifferent and walked away.

  The day guards reported a dozen rats fighting over the remains, and by mid afternoon, twice that many heading toward them.

  Ebsa loaded up and joined the others on the roofs. "We could take the crawler out and meet them."

  Iqgu shook his head. "We haven't got enough people to split up. The outer perimeter is too long and too low for us to defend against this, and there's no inner wall."

  Ogly was staring out over the camp. "There's more coming. A lot more."

  Ebsa looked around twenty-eight people with rifles and shotguns. Shotguns? Are we that low on ammo we can't even give everyone a slug thrower? He thought about the state of his own ammo. Yeah.

  Two men with lasers. Do they have enough penetration to kill a rat?

  He had a long barreled 10mm slung across his back, and the 20 mm in hand . . .

  He caught Iqgu eye as he gestured with it. "Ogly's a better shot than I am with this. Is there anyone else you'd rather have it?"

  "Nope. Ogly, you take the big gun. Sling Yeahza's shotgun and give him the 12mm."

  Ebsa handed it over. "Eighteen bullets left. The first eight are slugs. The rest are explosive." He looked back at the rats as they reached the wall. A few turned, a few climbed easily over.

  He flicked a glance around. And of course we all have clubs and crowbars and magic. One help us if it comes down to that!

  He looked toward the other side of the camp. Fewer people there, and less fire power. Paer was minding the northwest corner and not pleased to be out of what would probably be the main fight. :: Paer? Slice worked really well on the rat at the coast, remember that if they get close. ::

  :: Right. Fiend's chopping firewood style slice. ::

  :: Exactly. I'll bet fireballs would work too. ::

  A mental snort, and a picture of giant flaming rats running about setting everything on fire.

  Ebsa nodded slowly. :: Then again, maybe not. ::

  He turned back toward the flood of rats and studied them. They were leaner than lab rats, with heavier limbs. Their front paws were much more paw-like than hand-like. And, of course, nearly two m
eters high at the shoulder. He hadn't made much of a study of the carcasses, but he'd noticed the heavy bones of the head.

  Ogly steadied the 20mm using a crate for a rest, and started firing methodically. Ebsa nodded approvingly as Ogly lined up shots so that any bullets that penetrated would hit a second rat. The rats mobbed the dead and injured in a swarming mass.

  " . . . must be close to a hundred of them . . . "

  Ebsa had no idea who muttered that. He had to agree. And an unfortunately large number of them skirted the mobs and came on. Heads up, noses raised.

  "I guess we smell like food."

  Ebsa raised the rifle as the rats entered his range. But held his fire. They needed closer range, to kill each rat with fewer rounds.

  "Ready?" Iqgu sounded as casual as if they faced paper targets on the rage. "Fire at will."

  Ebsa sighted on a rat as it started to turn its head, aimed for where he hoped its neck would be and squeezed the trigger. Sighted on another, squeezed. Kept going until the empty click registered. He stepped back and set the rifle down.

  Not many guns firing.

  He stepped forward, squeezing down a ball of power in each hand.

  Six meters. I can hit anything on the track.

  One trotted confidently into range. Ebsa conserved his energy and sent a narrow slice across its neck. It fell, twitching and spurting. Two close together. He got them both with one slash.

  The only shots now were from the far side. From the northwest. He squeezed down a fireball and threw it hard, as far back into the pack as he could make, trying to reduce the pressure pushing the horde forward. Agonized squealings. A few rats turned. Not enough.

  He sliced two more as they entered the dirt road.

  "Fuckin A! You've got a hell of a reach." Iqgu rearranged his troops. "Don't try for his range. You know what you can do. Slash down at any that get between the buildings."

  The last two shooters managed to bring down one rat . . . and then they were all out of ammo.

  :: Paer? Ready to go full Warrior on these critters? ::

  :: Ready. ::

  A scream from the next building. A rat had grabbed a man and pulled him off the roof.

  Ebsa bolted across to the edge of the building. Sent a slice ahead to decapitate the rat as he jumped. Landed on the quivering body. Killed two more rats as they turned toward the blood and screaming. Jumped up on a rat body and slashed across the opening between buildings. Quick check behind. No rats alive.

  He leaped out to the track and slashed both directions.

  Let his Speed go for a moment. Glanced up at the roof. A bleeding man was being hauled up to one building. Iqgu paced back to the end. "Hang on, Ebsa, we'll get you up in a sec."

  "No . . . I think I'm more useful down here. Toss me my crowbar, and point me at the nearest problem area."

  "Are you crazy?"

  From the northeast corner, Wxxo laughed. "Yeah, he's crazy. In fact he's barely gotten started."

  Iqgu shook his head. "Looks like four rats to the south, then the rest to the north. "We'll deal with the south. You trim back the north, then you'd One damn well better get back up here." He dropped the crowbar.

  Ebsa caught it and trotted out to meet the next wave of rats. They came already blood flecked, no doubt from feasting on their fallen fellows.

  He reached for Paer, and felt her position . . . also on the ground. "Right. You dirty rats . . . die." He slid into Speed and dashed forward. Stretched his slice to the limit and swept his arm across the mob. Spun and snapped the crowbar across the nose of the one running up behind him. At Speed the metal bar was brutally effective, crushing the rat's jaw. He danced, spun out of the way of the thrashing beast and slashed. Blood spurted as the head rolled free. He leaped, got up on the body. Two quick slashes, then everything looked clear to the south. He spun back and went for the mob of rats ripping at the dead and injured from his first attack.

  And he ripped them, dipping into the mob and withdrawing, leaving bodies behind, trotting around the heap of rats, alive and dead, and meeting Paer, coated with sticky blood and as determined as he to kill every rat in the camp.

  Back into the mob. Hard to tell living rat from dead, and his head was hurting now.

  He slashed up at a rearing rat, dived out of the way as it fell. A thrashing tail caught him from the back, he rolled, came to his feet, turned and slashed. The rats were running now, terror breaking through the feeding frenzy.

  He gathered power and threw fireballs until they were out of range.

  . . . no threats. He let the Speed go and closed his eyes, the better to see the few live rats in the pile. Two slashes, and there were none.

  The gory apparition beside him grinned. "Dibs on the shower."

  Chapter Thirteen

  28 Jumada 1408

  Main Camp, World X 22845

  Ebsa strolled back around the heap of rats, sticky blood under his boots. He tossed a crowbar salute to Iqgu and walked on to his kitchen, thankfully bare of rats. The water faucet for the kitchen, the hose he'd cleaned the slab with . . . The water was unfortunately tepid, but he stepped off the slab and got all the blood out of his hair, off his face and hands, took off his shirt and soaked himself. Got a few wolf whistles. And respectful kidding . . . a bar of soap, a bottle of boost.

  Iqgu thumped his damp shoulder. "So . . . I take it that really was you at the Conclave?"

  "Yep."

  "And what year were you born?"

  "1383. Ra'd's the accidental Time Traveler. Umm, Wqlw, if you've never met him."

  "The guy that berserked on Team Twenty-nine? Put half his own team in the hospital?"

  "Yeah. Making a joke about raping his sister—the daughter of the Prophet Nicholas—was a really bad idea. By the laws he grew up under he should have killed the offender, rather than just beaten him to a pulp."

  Ogly and Yeahza walked up, Yeahza limping.

  "Told you guys that was them." Ogly stretched his back. "I counted. You took out thirty-eight with that slice of yours. A mere fourteen with the crowbar. Five with fireballs. Paer was a piker by contrast. She only killed twenty-eight, total."

  Yeaza grinned. "Plus any either of you two shot. We were too busy to count, just then."

  Ebsa pried his feet out of his filthy boots, turned the hose on them. "You know . . . I'm really glad I'm not one of Ocho's cleanup crew."

  Iqgu snorted. "Wanna bet we get drafted?"

  Ebsa moaned. Poured the water out of his boots and put them back on. Sloshed back to the crawler.

  The kids were quiet and wide-eyed, scurrying to get him booster, a towel . . .

  "Hey, don't you guys go overboard on the respect thing. Brains are more important than brawn . . . except when there are hordes of rats descending on your camp."

  Then he went out with tubs and sacks to find plump young rats to butcher.

  Wxxo caught him at it, and shuddered. "Why so much?"

  "I'm hoping that we've killed enough that they'll be hard to find, from now on. So I'll need ten kilos of meat a day to maintain adequate protein intake." Ebsa sighed. "If we don't get found in two weeks, I'm going to have to triple the meat and cut everything else drastically."

  Ocho had walked up in time to hear that. "I guess this wasn't the best world to get marooned on."

  "Well, the air's breathable and we've got water. I wish I knew more about the climate, how hot the summer is going to get. I've got survival seeds, but when do I dare plant them, eh?" Ebsa shouldered his last sack. "So this is fifteen days of supplemental meat. The rest is all yours, Chief."

  He popped all the meat into Paer's bubble. Very handy, that time dilation.

  Then he took a hot shower and washed all of his filthy clothes. Collapsed in bed and slept until dinner. Fabbed, of course.

  Paer sat down beside him. "Well, Uhfa's arm is repaired and a dozen minor injuries dealt with. Dr. Atly grabbed a couple of the Directorate assistant archaeologists and made them clean the OR after surgery. He was quite
impressed with the micro manipulations and spells, especially the nerve reconnection techniques. Finally, respect. And I'm too tired to appreciate anything but not having to mop the floor."

  Ebsa nodded. "I don't know how Iqgu is going to manage a patrol, tonight."

  A sniff behind them. Dr. Itchy and his wife settled at the next table.

  Dr. Tieh smiled at them. "You two did three-fourths of the work. The rest are in fine shape for guard duty. Well, baring a few injuries."

  Ebsa eyed them. "Do any of your group have any farming experience? Ever grow a garden? Ask around, will you?"

  "Young man . . . do you have any idea how terrifying the implications behind that question are?" Dr. Itchy reached out and took his wife's hand. "I'm a city boy. I can't even keep a houseplant alive."

  After breakfast he had a trio of women scientists waiting for him to finish.

  "Tell us about these seeds." The scientist speaking was a gray-haired woman, short and stout.

  "I have a standard survival pack of a variety of fruit, vegetable, and fiber seeds. If you know what to do with them, they are all yours."

  They trailed him to the crawler as if expecting him to try to escape, then looked affronted when he invited them in.

  "As if!" The tall thin one huffed.

  The little pink one eyed him dubiously. "Everyone knows you're really an Action Teamer."

  Gray hair snorted. "We'll wait out here."

  Ebsa rolled his eyes. But it made it easy for him to only hand over one of the two sets of seeds. Just in case they don't know how to . . . adapt their gardening techniques to this world. The sealed can had instructions; a thick book printed on waterproof sheets. The incipient gardeners had it open and were reading as they wandered slowly off.

  The kids were ready for lessons, but a bit leery of the heavy machinery dealing with the rats, so they took over the dining area. Ebsa shifted tables and settled down, ignoring the audience he seemed to be drawing. A grinning Paer joined them. Some of the Teamers looked a bit wistful.