by Jon State
Mirra nodded.
“The people only see what Ben allows them to see, but fakers always get caught, at least in my experience,” Sammis said.
“Sadly, not in mine,” Malica said, her eyes drifting somewhere to the past.
************************************
“You doing alright, Stevens?” Private Johnson said.
"Yeah, but I still tire quickly. Dr. Spencer said the bat birds gave me some kind of virus which steals protein from my red blood cells. Says if I get a cold I'm screwed. It's almost like the ancient HIV virus we licked a million years ago," Corporal Stevens said, speaking with his lower lip, revealing sickly yellow teeth. He was carrying nothing but a bottle of water. His face had grown gaunt, his body frail, and his frame lean.
“Yeah, I guess it’s been a long time for all those things we left behind, even though we feel as if it just happened a few weeks ago.” Johnson eyed Stevens. “Bro-man, you look like a cadaver.”
“When we get there, Charlie 4 and Dr. Spencer wanna run some more tests, he said walking will do me some good." He let out a tired breath, then he turned his hand and to let Johnson see the bloody scratches that covered most of it. "Already kissed the ground on my way down the cavern's entrance," Stevens said, inverting a smile.
Johnson felt pity for him, but his sympathy wouldn't make the young man stronger. No one knew how hard tomorrow would get, and this world had no place for the weak of heart, I'll apply some antibiotic and bandages to those," Johnson said.
“Nah, I need to be tough out here,” he said, as if sensing Johnson's thoughts. “My father was an Airborne-Ranger, and he always wanted to make me tough. He would say that tough times make tough people. I need to man up. Stupid bird-shits messed me up bad. I was doing well, man. Back home, I had joined the National Guard while I was in college. Dad was so proud. He enlisted at seventeen, but he wanted me to be smart and go to college, so I did both. I was an expert marksman, maxed my PT, and scored high on all my tests. Despite all that, I wasn’t Ranger stock, as you’ve noticed, but I will prove my dad right. Suffering makes you stronger.”
“Or kills ya’, depending on the suffering,” Johnson said with a smirk, feeling Steven’s thin arm.
"Either way, I'm my Mom and dad's legacy," Stevens said, letting out a ragged sigh. "They live on in my memories."
“I feel you on that. My family was number one for me.” His eyes narrowed. “I think you’re a stronger man than you think. You were bringin’ up the rear. Could’ve happened to anyone back there, probably even the rough-n-tough Sarge.”
Stevens looked at him with pleading eyes. “Thanks, Johnson. That means a lot to me.”
“It’s the truth. Now drink your water.” Johnson said, looking away.
************************************
The convoy stretched for nearly half a mile. Every piece of equipment was crammed on IV walkers, pod carts, and all-terrain bugs. Almost everyone walked. The Security forces rode ATV's. The 976 survivors were weary, their eyes alert to any danger, despite being reassured their path was clear.
Ben stood alone at the cavern's entrance. He'd fallen from grace during his time at the University, where he headed the science department, due to questionable behavior with a student. His lofty dream to be discovered by CERN was staunched for all time, but now he had a clean slate. David was dead, and he would rise to the occasion, but he needed to win Dr. Spencer and Malica over. He knew how much they were cherished so he needed them on his side in order to keep the community safe from whatever claimed ownership of this archaic, evolved world.
I need to proceed with caution, but I must find a way to show them I'm a worthy leader and friend, but they make it so hard, though.
Chapter 36
Bridge
Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains
May 30, 4067
A sight rose as they sauntered up to the hill's crest, leaving Dr. Spencer speechless. An immense river spread before them, nearly a hundred yards across. The robust river lazily wound away in each direction for miles.
Many colonists were getting seasick or rather land-sick, due to the constant vegetation shift which caused them to turn to the sky or open path for relief.
“Mirra and Sammis, I think you should lead the march,” Malica said, unable to keep from smiling as she noticed the excited look on their faces.
“Thank you,” Sammis said, glancing at Mirra and taking her hand.
They led the human procession along the river for a few miles until the half-haphazardly strung bridge was in full view. From afar it looked like an ill twisted collection of cables. As they approached, they discerned large pipes bound together by what might have once been electric lines. A sandbar stretched under the jutting pipeline.
Two engineers broke free from the formation and headed toward the long-dead utility lines. They climbed the bridge, wielding several objects, and started inspecting their only means of crossing the massive river. Satisfied, they continued to the other end.
“Ben,” Malica called into her AID.
“Yes, Malica.”
“I wanted to dig a little to see where we are once we’re on the other side. I think the planet has made a considerable shift,” Malica said.
“Negative. We will do nothing to provoke this land. We’re sitting ducks out here,”
“I will COM the delegates and—”
Ben interrupted her. "I already have a signed statement from each delegate on how we are to have minimal if any, contact with this wild land. Please refrain from breaking formation or else I will hold you responsible for any tragedies."
“So now you’re the cautious one? You sent out parties to scavenge with no regard to how tired or weary they were.”
“That was different. We have to keep this convoy safe at all costs. One person can ruin it for everyone. I am not ready to place anyone in danger simply to quench someone’s curiosity,” Ben said, breathlessly.
“You used to be a scientist, Ben, but now I see you’re just a politician,” Malica said, tight jawed. She cut the transmission abruptly, noticing the two engineers heading back across the bridge.
Dr. Spencer joined Malica. “You Okay?” he asked, sensing anger in her usually calm expression.
“Come,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the two men. “What did you find?” she called out before reaching them.
“The pipes are solid,” the taller one said, eying his partner. A bewildered expression etched on his face.
“That’s great news,” Dr. Spencer said.
“What else did you notice, gentlemen?” she said, staring into the tall man’s spooked eyes.
“The pipeline belongs to Old New York, specifically to New Manhattan.”
“So continents have merged,” Malica said absently.
By 2043 the mighty Atlantic Ocean began menacing the island of Manhattan. Efforts had been taken to save the city with the help of Vienna engineers. They reinforced the buildings, and a massive wall of boulders had protected the metropolis from the thrashing waves and strong currents. ManVienna became Manhattan's unofficial name.
“That means I’m home,” Dr. Spencer said, his eyes glazing over.
“We need to get back. Ben wants to cross immediately,” the tall man said hurriedly.
The sun favored the west by the time the last person in the convoy touched the bare soil on the other side of the river that belonged to ManVienna. Before them, the dirt-paved path waited, ready and clear to the horizon, as if a black carpet had been unrolled before them. To each side, the oscillating landscape soaked up the natural light, utterly oblivious to the alien procession that crossed their domain. Had there not been a truce, the land would have swallowed the fragile convoy like a tidal wave.
While crossing the sturdy pipe bridge, Malica read some etchings across the pipes which distinctly claimed the pipeline belonged to Old New York City. She had visited New York a few times, but ManVienna fascinated her the most. They had constructed the
priciest restaurants on the rooftops. The barrier and a steel girdle that covered each building protected them from the salty green ocean. She tried to recapture the experience, but like some memories of her past, this experience remained vague. She and many others struggled with memory loss—some missed small chunks, others massive amounts. Before their final multi-millennial sleep, speculations concerning memory loss were abundant. These predictions were based on a two-century sleep cycle and not a two thousand year one. Considering the length of the sleep, Malica thought they were all pretty fortunate.
Malica scanned the land before them, while Dr. Spencer offered her his hand. If this new place had some similarities to Old Earth’s, she would probably feel some closeness toward it. She grew up in Belgrade's vast wilderness, but these trees were more closely related to octopuses and spiders. The only similarity was the blue sky, despite a slight purple hue that seemed pinned to the horizon and the clouds having various colors which shammed the ones of her past life. She didn't recognize the clouds themselves. It was as if even the gases in the atmosphere had mutated.
Malica snapped back to reality by a familiar roar—an elephant’s cry, nasal and trumpeted. Despite knowing this, she asked, “What was that?”
“Not sure, but I think it came from the other side,” Dr. Spencer said, one hand on his pistol but he hoped he wouldn't have to use the fatal thing. Guns were new to him, and he had only practiced a few shots with Sergeant Gonzales's aid. He felt Malica’s hard grip on his shoulder as she strained her neck hoping to catch a glimpse of the trumpeting beast. “We’ll be fine. I spoke to Mirra before we embarked on the journey, and she said the clearing is close to the river.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Malica said, removing her hand from the doctor’s shoulder, surprised she had clung to him.
Chapter 37
Enigma
New York Territory, USC
May 30, 4067
“Just as Mirra and Sammis described it,” Lt. Pierce said. It reminded him of Oklahoma's wheat fields following the harvest. He loved the open areas where he was born and raised. The westerly sun made him squint. I’m back on US soil. He wondered how it would’ve felt to have been with Elain and Queenie during those final moments. In fact, he would’ve preferred it.
“Incredible, sir!”
“What?” Lt. Pierce asked, startled back to reality.
Gonzales noticed his surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your private moment. I said this place is incredible.”
“I agree. I wonder what commanded the land to open its doors to us?”
“Whatever it is, I’d rather stay on its good side.”
“Again, I agree wholeheartedly, Sarge. Hold on,” Lt. Pierce said stepping away and answering his AID.
“Roger that, Ben. Sarge, set up a circular formation camp, about fifty yards from the waterfront, over there should be fine," he said pointing toward the small river.
“I’ll get on it right away, sir.”
Lt. Pierce watched Sergeant Gonzales as he set out to the task. Why do I have the feeling this is too good to be true, he thought, as he whirled around and taped his AID to start coordinating with his teams.
*****************************************
Malica sat with folded legs on the river bank. The meandering water's enticing shimmer made her mouth grow moist. Since their awakening, this was the first time she felt relaxed.
The doctor reached for a syringe, eying Malica curiously. Dr. Spencer saw Malica slide her hand into the pristine water. He almost laughed as her mouth stretched, her teeth chattering. “I warned you about touching the water until we had it analyzed. How is it?”
“It’s cold, but it felt good, fresh. I hope it’s drinkable. Having to purify the water makes it taste funny.” She smiled.
“Distilled.”
"Yes, I yearn for something natural, especially a freshwater bath, instead of the steam baths which make you feel as though you were in a sauna," Malica said, sticking her tong out in disgust.
The doctor laughed. “Actually, it’s a jet mist shower.”
“Whatever it is makes me feel, yucky!”
“You know, I’m just happy to feel the open breeze once more. It seemed like we were never going to leave those dreadful, mossy caves.”
“There is much to be grateful for, especially since we lost no one on the way here,” Malica said, easing back on the bank.
“Now, that is something to be grateful for, considering I was getting used to losing friends and colleagues. Let’s get back. The sooner I test these water samples, the faster you can go arctic swimming.”
************************************
Ben Greer, Ruby Patel, and Manas Sterlengo stood away from the bustling commotion the colonists were making, their contemplative gazes sweeping the camp.
“As our minds are coming up with images, ideas, and machinations, so is everyone else’s. How do we keep them safe against themselves? One slip up and this Mother character will send the devilish hoards in this savage land upon us,” Ben said, his dark eyes never straying from the camp.
“I agree, but how do you keep nine hundred plus people from making a mistake—or just one person, for that matter?” Ruby offered. Her hawkish nose pronounced by the morning sun.
“We need more security recruits, as much to protect the perimeter as to keep the people safe inside the camp’s confines,” Manas said, his gruff tone carrying further than theirs.
“Keep it down, Manas. We wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea. Anyway, what you propose is going to be difficult. This camp will stretch out for two hundred yards, even if we keep the tents close—which knowing how people like their privacy, won't be easy. These folks have been living atop each other for weeks. They're craving for their own space." Ben said, glancing at Manas and Ruby.
Ruby shook her head. “I see no other option, Ben.”
“I do, but it will have to wait for another time. In the meantime, ask for volunteers. We prefer anyone with prior military experience. I’ll leave the training up to you Manas. Ruby, can you prepare a questionnaire. We don’t want to recruit anyone that wishes to explore the habitat beyond our perimeter.
“I’ll have it ready tonight.”
“Ruby and I will be doing the recruiting. We want to keep it as impartial as possible.”
“How about if the doctor and Malica want to know why we need the extra people?” Manas asked.
“The truth, we don’t know how long this truce is going to last so we have to be prepared. I need them to realize that isolation is our only hope.”
“And if they don’t come around?” Ruby said.
“Then we’ll have to force their hand.”
Manas nodded.
Chapter 38
Mockingbird
New York Territory, USC
June 10, 4067
“Hear that?” Sammis said to Mirra.
“Can’t be the camp—it’s out of earshot by now.”
“It’s a melody, like a bird’s song, but none I’ve ever heard.” He spun his head to get a fix on the rhythmic whistling.
“Do you think it may be the giant enticing orchid again?” She stopped in her tracks.
“No. This is like a sing-song whistle, a spectacular one, too," Sammis said, trying to emulate the song with a few whistles of his own.
“I can’t hear it if your whistling.” Mirra arched her head in several directions, her red curls bouncing as she came around Sammis. "I think it's stronger over there." She pointed.
“Alright, but at the first sign of danger, we leave,” Sammis said, not wanting to repeat his previous encounter with the flower that impregnated him.
"We set up camp ten days ago, and so far we have had no attacks, nor have we seen any dangerous animals. Some plants have crossed over and have given us their fruits in exchange for nutrients, and so far they are harmless, or at at least I hope they stay that way.”
“Thankfully,” Sammis frowned, “
we produce a lot of nutrients. Bagging our feces and putting them in a compost pile is repulsive work. Hope we can come up with a better method soon.”
“There,” Mirra whispered, halting so fast Sammis stepped on her heal. She yanked free of his foot and drew him to a crouch by her side. “It looks like a Mockingbird, but it's ten times larger than an Old Earth Mockingbird," Mirra whispered in his ear.
“It’s doing something with the riverbank’s white muck,” Sammis said.
They watched intently as the bird rolled the mud into two balls. It then paced around the balls, singing the melody Sammis had heard.
“What is it doing?” Mirra narrowed her eyes at the spectacle.
“Maybe it’s incubating its eggs in the mud. This is a world full of wonders.”
“It’s walking with its wings and holding up the two balls with its claws. They look pretty sturdy now,” Mirra said, leaning in to get a closer look.
The bird wobbled towards a bamboo-like protrusion and simultaneously whacked it on both sides with the sturdy rock clay. A worm-like creature popped out and the Mockingbird snagged it in midair. It repeated the technique several times until no more worms sprang up.
“That is amazing,” Sammis said, louder than he had intended.
The bird turned to them. It bobbed its head and started toward them.
Mirra turned to Sammis. “Now what?”
“Hello, little friend. You are very clever,” Sammis said, coming to his feet.
"Sing so. I do so. Friend, pleased I sound," the bird sang.
Sammis and Mirra went rigid.
"Feeling well? Do you need a spell?" the bird stopped as if noticing their confusion.
Mirra and Sammis turned to each other dumbfounded.
Mirra finally broke the silence. “Are you speaking to us?”