Reanimated_Terminal Misery

by Jon State

  They agreed and scurried from the tent before Ben could address them.

  Ben’s glare followed them. In the long run, they will see that this is for the people's benefit.

  “Do you think they will cause trouble?” Manas asked, hushed toned, seeing how Ben had stared after the departing nay voters.”

  “You know, Manas—if there are lines your opponent refuses to cross, then how much of a threat is he to you.”

  Manas squinted, his lips a crooked smile. “I see your point, sir.”

  “But we will still need to keep an eye on them, nonetheless. People have surprised me in the past.”

  "It will be my pleasure," the tall man said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

  "Be discrete. I don't want another confrontation with my friend Dr. Spencer.”

  Chapter 41

  Unearthed

  New York Territory, USC

  June 12, 4067

  Rolling clouds lumbered overhead, adorned with pale streaks of purple, which bled through golden fringes. Lt. Pierce sometimes stared into the light-blue heavens, only to find himself home, if just for a moment. Malica had advised against it, but he missed Elain and Queenie. If he looked carefully at the sky, he could see Elain among the purple distortions, her hair waving in the wind, her laughing eyes, and her lush lips parting for a kiss, Queenie barking in the background, always chasing buzzing insects.

  “Earth to Lt. Pierce, over,” Sergeant Gonzales said through cupped hands.

  “Sorry. It’s a nice day,” Lt. Pierce said.

  “Hey, no sweat, sir. I go there all the time. If I stay long enough, I can almost smell my wife's favorite perfume. I do admit it takes me to a place I can't go and," Gonzales drifted pensively, "I gotta work on staying here and now, comprendes?” he said, shoving a black shovel into the white muck.

  “Yes, I understand all too well, Sarge,” the lieutenant said.

  Around them, scraping shovels and digging machines diminished all other sounds. Their proximity to the border had a few people unnerved, but the decision had been made to work far from the camp as to not disturb the waterway that crossed close to their encampment, plus higher concentrations of geo-f could be found up-river.

  They had found a separate pool of the white mud, and they worked it relentlessly. Everyone tried to concentrate on the task before them, but occasionally some would eye the nearby prancing woods as if expecting the vegetation to attack when they turned their backs.

  Meanwhile, a security perimeter had been laid out to protect the workers from any intruder.

  “Miller, you feeling better,” Efrem asked his hands working a machine's control panel, which borrowed a two-yard auger through the goe-f mire as if it were buttermilk. They had secured the bulky contraption with four cables, and Efrem used them as support because the goe-f acted like quicksand.

  “Much, much better. Doc said my equipment bag saved my ass. He repaired one vertebra and two ribs. I'm as good as a pecker on-a hound dog," Miller said, grinning broad enough to reveal gold-capped teeth.

  “Efrem, you must've been a badass Ranger. You carried Miller and ran like a freakin’ storm,” Gonzales said, heaving white mud into a cart beside him. The cart’s donut wheels kept it from sinking in the marsh.

  "Helps when you have a ten-yard gator chasing you," Efrem said chuckling.

  “I know you guys had to shit your pants, man,” Gonzales said.

  “Why? Did you?” Lt. Pierce cut in.

  “Oh no, sir! Our encounter with the flying lizard was freaky, but what they went through was like facing real-live, flesh-eating dinosaurs. What you smelled from me was not shit, sir, but pure, unadulterated fear,” Gonzales said, wiping sweat from his brow and exposing his large pearly whites as he squinted at the blazing sun.

  “I still think you soiled your panties, Sarge," Lt. Pierce insisted.

  "'Least I got us out," Sergeant Gonzales countered. "Stinky or not."

  “That you did, my friend,” Pierce said, nodding to Gonzales.

  They had dug a two-yard ditch spanning five-yards. Some loaded carts were already heading back to camp.

  “I got somethin’!" Miller said, his grating voice alerting everyone. Miller held up a muddy, black cord in his gloved hand. The cable protruded from the goe-f like a tongue. He pulled at the cable. “Hey, gimme a—" Miller disappeared as the ground gave bellow him.

  The others flung themselves at the support lines of the excavator as the geo-f threatened to pull them down with Miller.

  Shouts alerted others, who began tossing lines to the clawing men. They pulled everyone to safety, except for Miller.

  Efrem moved closer to the newly formed three-yard crater. "Clip this end to the digger," he said to Sergeant Gonzales. Then he tied the other end around his waist and thighs. "Let me down easy," he told them, as three men converged around the line.

  “Miller!” he yelled into the daunting black hole, his feet sloshing at the crater’s brim.

  “Here!” Lt. Pierce threw Efrem a hand lamp.

  “Miller!” he called again. Efrem could see a spider-like web of pipes spiraling into a rolling dust cloud. Dribbling mud splattered onto the tubes below. The pipes interfered with the beam of light.

  "Here," came the barely audible response.

  “He’s alive!” Efrem roared over his shoulder. “How much slack can you give me?” he said, sliding his head over the hardening geo-f's rim. The goe-f thickened around the gap as if trying to heal the breach.

  Sergeant Gonzales slid the rope free of the hardening mud and let it rest on a dry patch that would allow them to lower Efrem freely.

  “Good, catch Sarge. We wouldn’t have been able to free the line from the goe-f if it had hardened.” Lt. Pierce said, evaluating the ropes length. "I estimate the rope at about forty yards or so," he called down to Efrem.

  “That’ll do.” Efrem nodded.

  “The three men let the line slide from their gloved hands.

  Efrem coughed as the stale, dusty air hit his nostrils. An odd odor reached him. As a Ranger, he had experienced smells which could make swine upchuck. The stench was old as if he'd descended into an ancient tomb.

  "Miller, you still with me?" he called out. The vibration of his voice dislodged soil from the flimsy walls. “Miller!” The word shot back from the deep gorge as if hitting a solid object.

  Efrem swung towards the twisted metal beams and tested the hard aluminum-like metal with his boot. The thick, dull extrusions pushed back at the earth around him, as if protecting something dear to it. The metal and wires became thicker as he descended. The alloys changed in nature, too. He felt soil slide down his neck, the still dripping goe-f hardened on his headgear.

  "Help--please," Miller's voice pleaded feebly.

  Efrem knew the man was only a few yards away. “I’m right here, brother. Don’t move.” He slid down a long pole and, on the other side, he saw Miller sprawled on an unusually flat surface.

  The rope snagged. “I need more slack he called into his AID.”

  “Ephrem, signal degradation is preventing link-up,” his AID informed.

  He leaned on a beam and tapped his computer, which he'd strapped to his forearm as a precaution. He only saw static waves on the screen. "What the hell?" He shook the device until Pierce’s image flickered for a moment.

  “I’m reading you, Ef-rem.”

  “I see him. He’s about three yards below me. He’s lying on a flat surface. There’s some kind of metal cage running all the way down. It seems strong enough to hold my weight. I’m going to need longer ropes and a harness. Not sure how bad he’s hurt, but he's conscious,” Efrem said as he broke into a loud cough. He heard Miller cough a few times in unison.

  “Roger that. Need another body?” Pierce returned.

  “Negative, not sure if this metal skeleton can hold two people. You’ll need to set up a hoist,” Efrem said, shaking dirt and hard mud off his head. The hard goe-f clung to it as if glued in place.

  �
��Roger that.” Pierce’s image winked out.

  “Miller, talk to me, brother. You gotta stay awake, Marin!” Efrem said, releasing the makeshift harness from his waist to ease his movement around extrusion and cables. He found an open spot and slid down the final length of the make-do ladder. He tested the surface. It proved to be softer than stone, but not dirt.

  Efrem slid in beside Miller, still not trusting the rubbery surface. “You’re a tough SOB.”

  “Mother’a God, I'm just staying in bed for the duration. Shit!" Miller moaned as Efrem felt for compound fractures.

  Efrem strapped the lamp around his head. “Can you move?” Efrem gently straightened Miller’s legs.

  “Shot down them roots, and didn’t miss’a one of ‘em. Bodies wrenched to hell! Think I broke my back again on the last drop. Damn shit stinks, too. I think I shit myself this time, man.”

  "Save your breath, Marine. I'm connected to your wrist computer. It's reading no internal bleeding. Your back is fractured, though, and you have minor sprains and lacerations. I think you and the Doc are going to become bunk buddies from now on. Otherwise, you're going to be fine. You fell through metal beams, not roots." Efrem searched for large lacerations.

  “Twice I broke my back. Ain’t I got some shitty luck, bro.” Miller’s cough was dry and hard.

  Satisfied with Miller’s condition, Efrem decided to examine where they’d fallen. “Miller, I’m going to make sure we’re standing on solid ground." He squeezed the former Marine's shoulder reassuringly. The man winced. “Sorry, brother.”

  Efrem aimed the light away from the detritus. The indigo beam shot across the ground to where the surface flattened further away. There he noticed how black and smooth the ground appeared. He bent low to investigate, eyes squinting. What manner of soil is this? He used his Kershaw blade’s tip to examine the grounds consistency. The ebony goo gave with each probe, then returned to its previous state. It’s some type of PVC or TPO plastic, he realized. "We're on some human-made structure.” Efrem let the beam swallow the darkness, following the patterns of the structure. Beside an aluminum heap, he found a synthetic concrete wall with carved moldings. Insulation littered the ground beyond the metal.

  “What is it?”

  “Air filtration units—large ones. I can’t believe they’re still not corroded after all these years,” Efrem said. He wanted to go and investigate the scrap area but preferred to stay close to Miller.

  “What…” Miller said, trailing off.

  Efrem trained the light on him. “Stay with me, Miller. Don’t get cozy. I need you awake.”

  “Efrem, we're sending down the carriage. We've set up a hoist. Signal's still weak," Pierce informed, with a few breaks in the connection.

  "Roger that, LT. Miller has a broken back and some other none-life-threatening injuries. We're on a large platform. There's a lot of scrap metal down here. The cage saved miller from certain death. , enough to have broken Miller's fall." Efrem said, giving Miller a friendly slap on the cheek.

  “Glad to hear it. As for the materials, are they Part of a building?”

  “Not sure yet, but it's big. I can discern insulation, wiring, air unit casing, conduits, climbing iron rungs, and lots more. I think I see small cases that once held surveillance equipment.” Efrem paused to sneeze. “Thing is, sir—some are in good shape and not covered by too much dirt.” There was a long pause. He could see the lieutenant’s puzzled expression. “You copy, LT?”

  “Yes. I know cold earth can preserve, but anything from that time exposed in the thawing ground should look worn and brittle. This place has been warm for at least a thousand years.”

  "My assessment as well. I don’t get what’s going on, but once I get Miller to safety, permission to investigate some more?” Efrem’s eyes danced crimson against the reflected light.

  “You sure the thing is stable?”

  “Sure do. Whatever this structure is and whoever made it, insulated it well. One side is holding quite a bit of debris. Looks solid.”

  “Are you using red light? Your eyes look red, like those of night creatures,” Lt. Pierce said.

  Efrem blinked a few times. “Negative, sir. Possibly the chemicals down here. Smells real foul,” he said, then added, “I think Miller’s to blame for some of it. Last time he passed out too early to shit his pants. This time he succeeded.” Efrem chortled.

  "You would too if you'd fallen here, smartass," Miller managed, then grunted and moaned a bit more.

  Pierce smiled. "Good to see he's in good spirits. Okay, the cart's starting its descent. Keep your eyes down.”

  Loose soil cascaded on them, announcing the carriage. He covered Miller with his body as small chunks of geo-f struck the metal beams and rained around them along with dirt and grit.

  It took Efrem a few minutes to secure Miller and follow him up. The metal web network remained sturdy, though it complained a few times when he pushed Miller free from exposed, jutting metal that had snapped or bent long ago.

  Efrem watched the cart lift up and out of sight. “LT, tell Miller it’s the last time we take him on a mission or job sight.” Efrem chuckled.

  "He heard you. I think he's trying to use his middle finger, but all he can do is wince. You watch your six. The last thing I need is another body to carry back to base."

  "I get you, sir. "I'm staying tethered to a beam for my safety."

  "I'll feel better if you walk me through it," Lt. Pierce said.

  “Will do, sir. Stand by.”

  Lt. Pierce’s screen blurred, went dark, then flickered. The image cleared with the help of Efrem’s powerful lamp. Before him, he saw a jumble of iron and aluminum sheets, mixed with insulation. The attacks they'd suffered during their stay below ground came to the lieutenant, the memories still fresh. He broke his mind's ranting and returned to the view screen. Efrem attached the hand held to his chest. The range of the handheld was limited to a few hundred meters. The interference of the surrounding metals made the image rainy.

  “Efrem, Miller's on his way back to camp. He seems fine," Lt. Pierce said.

  “I can tell. It doesn’t smell as bad anymore. Guess Miller was to blame after all.” Efrem laughed, then noticed that his chest felt congested. He had once contracted an air born pathogen during a bio-attack while confined to a mud gutter. It took him months to shake the bug—it nearly killed him—and here he was, exposed to God knew what gasses.

  “I see a path. Well, more like a drop.” Efrem grunted. The image jostled back and forth, scrambling the auto-image refractor.

  Lt. Pierce and Sergeant Gonzales watched uncertainly.

  “Sergeant, put on a mask and get ready to descend,” Lt. Pierce said abruptly.

  “Sir, why not bring him up now, and we can go down in two’s in proper gear. I know Efrem’s tough as train rails, but I think we should take a step back on this one,” Gonzales said. Sweat rolled down his tanned neck in rapid beads.

  “I hear you, but the man’s already there. Just take him a mask. The air quality concerns me. The ground looks solid enough.”

  Gonzales sighed. “You vaqueros. On my way, sir. I’ll take a med pack and an extra lamp?”

  “Good idea. I’ll have a team ready in case you guys run into trouble. Harness yourselves at all times.”

  “Do we have any string?” Gonzales asked.

  “What for?” The lieutenant frowned.

  “No mapping drones mean we can get lost if this thing starts splitting up in all directions,” Gonzales said, spreading his palms apart.

  “You’re ever the cautious one, Sarge,”

  “When I was a kid, I got lost in some caves in Quebradillas, Puerto Rico, my hometown. I never forgot how that felt. I was only thirteen," Gonzales said, shaking his head. “The dumb things kids do.”

  “I see. There’s some twine in the gear bag. Be careful,”

  “Born careful, sir—the Boricua way,” Gonzales said smiling.

  “One day, you’ll have to bring me up to spe
ed on these glitches in your speech." Lt. Pierce smiled.

  “My Spanish’s too much for the alien translator,” he grinned, readying himself.

  “Efrem, you still good? I’m getting blurry, dark images up here,” Pierce said, renewing his concentration.

  “Yes, sir. I can see a lot better now—haven’t the faintest idea why, though. I found a thick glass pain. I can see a hall or something on the other side,” Efrem said.

  “Maybe small plants or worms are emitting light, like in the forest,” Lt. Pierce offered.

  “Haven’t seen any critters yet. Okay, I’m going to break the window,” Efrem said.

  “Belay that Efrem. Gonzales is on his way with a mask. I’m sure two Rangers are better than one, plus any gasses trapped behind the pane could be toxic," Lt. Pierce said, watching Gonzales disappear into the white goe-f's maw.

  “Gonzales, I sure hope you grabbed at least one chow pack and some water,” Efrem said, as the sergeant neared.

  “Dude, Puerto Rican men think with their stomach, brother. Sound of stomach, sound of mind," he echoed, fading in and out as he descended the railing.

  “You’re a lifesaver.”

  Efrem watched Gonzales’s form approach. The man looked like a lighthouse, with one lamp strapped to a duffel bag and another strapped to his headgear. The dirt walls appeared to drink in the sharp beams. He blinked his light, revealing his position to the sergeant.

  “Eat first or gas mask?” Gonzales asked, shaking the meal pack temptingly.

  “I’d rather not die on an empty stomach,” Efrem said, reaching for the pouch.

  “I’d rather not die at all,” Gonzales said, as he fumbled for forks in his backpack. “Chicken again, that’s all I ever get, plus pork. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I was hoping for beef.” He sighed.

  “Can’t help you there. I got diced pork, rice-n-gravy.” Efrem pressed the heating element.