by R. K. Sidler
“What’s for lunch?" Bishop asked inclining his head toward the fires.
“Roast lion,” Weston said with a smile, “By some coincidence, the men brought two of them in just yesterday.”
“Good. Nothing I hate more than stale lion,” Bishop said returning the smile.
As the meal was served they made small talk. Bishop had never had lion before, and thought it was quite good. As they were eating Bishop said, “One of your men said Mochtp when we met. What does that mean?”
“Monster,” Weston replied. “He was referring to the Raveners. At least that is the name we’ve given them.”
“Why did he call it by that other name?”
“It’s Russian. Sasha here was an engineer on a Russian submarine. When we first came here, some of us were from an American submarine, some from a Russian sub, and the rest we picked up along the way. A few others found us over time. Everybody speaks some English, but we’ve become a mix of three languages. Sometimes, a word in another language just carries more meaning and we may revert to using it, as the man you spoke of did.”
“What exactly are the Raveners? I’ve seen them twice before. They look mostly human, but they don’t act it.”
“We think they were people who went mad, or at the least, survived physically when they probably should have died. But be assured, they are not human any longer. They will walk right by you, but if there is blood on you, you'd better be quicker than they are, because they will attack without a second thought. They can smell blood from great distances. They can run without tiring, their strength is more than that of an average man, despite their fragile appearance, and they are quick.”
“Do they ever come in here,” Bishop asked.
“They did in the past, but we’ve learned to keep the area free from what attracts them. We are careful in how we preserve and process our animals.”
“I saw one of them eat a wild dog alive, out on the plains.”
“They don’t care whether something is alive or not. I don’t believe they really think much at all. I’ve seen several of them attack a wounded lion before. The lion killed two of them before becoming dinner himself. They are more of a mindless animal than anything else.”
“Good to know.”
They retreated to Weston’s lodge after the meal. Bishop enjoyed both the meal and the company. He had not had fresh vegetables in the mountain, nor fresh meat. It was all genetically modified protein sources, created in their own labs. It was eating out of necessity, not out of desire. When the two men were alone, Weston offered him a seat.
“So, you know a little about us, and how we got here, how about you?”
Bishop looked at him and decided there was no threat in revealing himself. “Alright, we’ll take turns. You get an answer, you give an answer,” Bishop said reasonably, and Weston agreed.
“How did you survive in the mountains,” Weston asked.
“Cheyenne Mountain―underground military base. They had been preparing for something like this for a long time, and they knew about the event before it happened. My father was one of the ranking members on staff, and he ensured I was inside before it happened. I didn’t know what was going on until after the fact.”
“Makes sense,” Weston said.
“How many of you are out here,” Bishop asked.
“Now, we are about eight hundred and counting. When we first arrived, there were over twenty-four hundred of us. We lost about eighty percent of our numbers in the first few years. Our birth rate has improved and we are finally growing.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Very hard; I lost many of my men and many others I came to know.”
“I didn’t see that many people at lunch,” Bishop stated.
“We are divided into two villages; this one, and another several miles down in the valley on the north side. We used to have three villages, each protecting a way into the valley, but when the numbers became too few, we decided to reinforce the two, and keep a manned outpost at the third. It is a choke point at the opposite end of the valley.
“That was more than one question, so my turn,” Weston said with a smile.
“Why are you out here while your father is inside?”
Bishop looked at him, expecting the question at some point, but it still was a sensitive subject. “Let’s just say my father and I don’t see ’eye to eye.’”
“Okay. What is their goal? What do you think they would do if they found out about us?”
“I think they would take what you have. I think they would study some of you, but if you are asking if they would help, no.”
“But there are many of us that were in the service just like them. We’re fellow countrymen,” Weston replied a little taken back by the statement.
“No, you ‘were’ like them. Now you are what they call MuTerra, mutants of the land. They don’t get sick. They have been cured of every known disease. They are a perfectly functioning society just waiting to re-populate the surface and make it theirs. At least, whenever it is safe for them to do so. When that time comes, you won’t want to be in their way.”
“We’ve learned to adapt to and survive many things,” Weston said.
“Yeah, well, when they find this valley, and they will, those spears, and crossbows, and whatever other primitive weapons you have will do little against a well-armed, well-trained, fighting force. They have several hundred trained soldiers, some of them prior Special Forces like me, and they have the equipment.”
“We haven’t survived this long to go away quietly.”
“No, I don’t expect you did. And you now have an advantage.”
Weston looked at him in expectation of an answer.
“Me. I will not let my father succeed. And, after seeing what you have done here, I’m not about to let him ruin it.”
“But you only have a couple of knives and a wooden spear, how do you think you can stop him, yet say we cannot when we have greater numbers?”
“You have no idea what I am capable of. I’ll help you make preparations for the inevitable, but for now, just be glad I like you and I’m on your side.”
“You don’t seem to lack confidence, I’ll give you that.”
Bishop smiled at the response. “I’d like to see the rest of the valley. Would that be a problem?”
“No. I’ll send Sasha along with you. He’s become my best friend. He’ll make sure no one from the other village causes you any problems.”
―
There was a dual-purpose laboratory and clinic in Mezzo. The staff consisted of Dr. Ramirez, Professor Bayek, and four others. One of the others was a young man named Stephan. He was a student of Professor Bayek’s prior to their coming to the valley. His family was a casualty of the environment and passed on years before, which prompted Stephan to attach himself to Mr. Bayek. He lost his ability to speak as a side effect of the radiation exposure; he suffered with open sores and he was thought to have outlived his life expectancy. He was a delightful young man whom people took an instant liking to. He would not leave Bayek’s side for any reason. Mr. Bayek was of two minds about this. He had no children of his own, as he had never married, and never had any friends he would consider ‘close.’ He was made even more uncomfortable dealing with the affection and attention of a child, or childlike person.
While Stephan was an adult in age, his mental acuity had suffered along with the rest of his body. The only reason they could formulate in explaining his continual survival was an indomitable will to live. The two lived together and Stephan worked hard to do whatever he was tasked with.
Once a month, they went out on the rim to obtain specimens for study. At first, Bayek tried to explain why it was dangerous for Stephan to go along, and that he should remain in the village, but his attempts to restrain him were without effect. Stephan went anyway, and after the first few excursions, Bayek was happy to have the company. Where they traveled there was little threat from predators, and the extra set of hands
proved to be valuable.
They would leave early in the morning with the intention of returning to Mezzo before mid-afternoon. To be caught out at night was an entirely different proposition. On this trip, they were returning to an area quite distant from the village giving them little time to work when they finally arrived. The area was abundant in its supply of fungus, lichen, and other samples of life they did not have in the valley. They had been successful in making several elixirs, which served to treat many different maladies. Bayek was one of the few who adapted to the radiation with no noticeably severe side effects, and this was why he was the only medically trained person permitted to leave the protection of the valley.
As they were almost finished collecting what they had come for, Stephan made a noise and gestured at professor Bayek. When he turned, Bayek saw four men in charcoal colored suits casually aiming automatic weapons while walking in their direction. There was no place to hide and no possibility of escape.
―
Before they left for their tour of the valley, Sasha escorted Bishop to their Smithy. He advised him that while it was a rare event for anything dangerous to be in the valley, it would still be wise to have better protection than a wooden spear. When they reached his forge, they found him working outside on a wagon. They shook hands as they were introduced, and the smith was quite surprised that not only could he not crush Bishop’s hand in his, it was in fact the opposite. The men smiled at each other in respect, and with the Smith, an added indication of surprise. Sasha explained why they were there and the Smith showed them inside.
“I’ve got some nice larger and some small crossbows. I make the metal darts myself, hollow on the inside. Different sized swords, shields, and a variety of other novelties,” the Smith said showing his creations with pride.
Bishop looked around, and thought he was living in medieval times. What he saw was of advanced design, but primitive when compared to the technology he was used to. He walked to a corner, and grabbed hold of what looked like a digging bar except that it was simply a piece of solid round steel more than two inches thick, and close to seven feet long. He picked it up and the weight felt good in his hands. “What about this,” asked Bishop.
“That’s just raw material. I haven’t decided what to do with it yet. Besides, it’s too heavy to be wielding as it is. It weighs close to forty-five pounds.”
“Can I take it outside?”
“Sure, if you want,” said the Smith as he followed him through the door.
Bishop swung the bar in a series of moves, walking as he did so, finally releasing the energy on a large boulder. It sent small pieces of rock flying in all directions. He had a smile on his face. He could only imagine hitting some living creature with it. Nothing would withstand that amount of force. He manipulated it as easily as someone would a wooden stick. Sasha and the Smith were impressed. “I’d like this if I could have it.”
The Smith looked at him in surprise. It had been sitting where it was for a long time, and he still had not figured out what, if anything, to do with it. “If that’s what you want. Would you like me to bevel an edge on it; make it into a spear or something?”
“No. Don’t trim it. Maybe just turn the ends into a point without removing too much material. Can you do that?”
“Sure, no problem. I could have it done by morning, tomorrow afternoon at the latest,” the Smith said reasonably.
“Great. Could I maybe just borrow something else until then,” Bishop asked.
“Absolutely, take anything you want.”
―
Sasha explained in more detail, the events leading up to finding their valley, and what they had gone through to survive until now. He described conditions outside on the rim involving both the dangers, and the payoffs of venturing out. He recited stories of others who had come and gone in search of another way of life, and of those who just refused to accept what fate had dealt.
Sasha also talked about hot spots, or dead zones, outside on the rim. They were areas completely devoid of life. Even the earth appeared dead in those regions. They reasoned it was because of an excessive amount of radiation, possibly due to a meltdown of a nuclear facility. He advised Bishop to keep his distance from such places. He explained their burial procedure. They discovered a place where the land accommodated a burial ground, and they transported their dead there. They were buried deep enough so as not to attract attention from predators, or from Raveners. Any animal remains which were deemed unusable, within the valley, were burned.
They hunted out on the rim as much as possible. They wanted the domestic and wild herds to remain healthy in the valley. They knew the animals were contaminated, but they reasoned that over time they were becoming accustomed to the side effects as their numbers had reversed their previous decline. The communities followed basic guidelines in behavior. If someone was determined to be a threat to the community itself, they were brought before the residents as a whole, and their fate was voted on. In most cases, they were simply banished. People worked together to ensure survival. They were really one family with one goal. Weston and Dr. Ramirez functioned as the leaders in the two remaining villages. It was not a position of prestige, simply one of responsibility.
Bishop was surprised by the variety of wild life they saw. He too explained what he could about his journey before entering their valley. Sasha was interested in every detail, often interrupting when he did not fully understand. Bishop thought he had probably made a fine officer with such an attitude for detail. Either that or his experience here facilitated an attitude to learn everything possible.
As the sun began its fade, they encountered people working in the fields. Structures could be seen; many of which looked similar to those in Gateway. He heard the name for the first time that morning. Now they were entering Mezzo. As they drew close, it was evident that they all knew who Sasha was, and no one knew who he was. They stared at him as he walked by, and he nodded and spoke a few unanswered greetings as they went. Sasha led them to the largest structure and walked inside with Bishop trailing close behind.
―
Bishop was introduced to Dr. Ramirez and his staff. A few others made their way to meet the stranger; the rest would do so at tomorrow’s afternoon meal. Bishop noticed that this village ran almost identically to the other. If it isn’t broke, don’t try to fix it, he reasoned.
After Bishop had answered, or at least tried to, every conceivable question they could think of, Sasha took him to his friend’s house to stay the night. He was a former shipmate from the Nevsky. They had a light dinner, and some homemade wine, while sharing stories.
As the shock of surveying their valley, and the life in it, dissipated, Bishop became more aware of the physical effects on the people it contained. Even the ones who had adapted were affected. He did not know how long they could continue, but if they had overcome the worst, they had passed the threat of extinction, and were in fact making gains in their population, their future here was likely secure.
Shortly before they were ready to bed down for the night, Dr. Ramirez knocked on their door, “I don’t mean to disturb you so late, but I thought you should know that professor Bayek and Stephan never returned from their trip today.”
Sasha and his friend had concerned looks on their faces.
Bishop said, “Trip? Trip to where?”
“Once a month professor Bayek goes out on the rim to find medicinal supplies. There is not much threat in the daytime, but the nighttime is different. They are always back before nightfall. I thought they might just be running a little late, but they are still not here.”
“Will you send someone out to look for them?” asked Bishop.
“No,” Sasha said, “Everyone knows we don’t leave the valley in darkness. There are those of us who see just as well at night, as we do in the day, but there is too much danger at night. We will wait until morning.”
“If something happens to the professor, it will be a great loss to us here,” Ramirez added
.
Bishop looked at him with a degree of contempt. Ramirez understood the look. “Don’t misunderstand me,” he said to Bishop, “Everyone is important here. Professor Bayek is the one who has been responsible for much of our survival. What he has contributed has prevented many deaths, and allowed others to continue when they should not have.”
Bishop nodded in understanding, and silently berated himself for jumping to a conclusion when he had little understanding of life as it was here.
“We’ll go out in the morning,” Sasha said to Dr. Ramirez.
“I’ll go with you,” Bishop offered.
―
The search team had little trouble following the trail. There were eight in all. Keith noticed they were solid looking men, no doubt somewhat immune to the environment; one was a giant. Bishop had learned that some of the people had been affected with a second period of growth as a side effect, similar to an adolescent growth spurt, and thus became as giants among the rest. When they arrived at the scene, they saw boot prints in addition to the soft shoes made by the villagers. These prints led to tracks made by motorized vehicles. When they spotted these, they turned to Bishop.
“It could be a scouting party from the mountain. It is quite a distance from here, but they must have found a way to make it,” he said before he paused in thought, “If they have your men, which seems likely, there is nothing we can do.”
The other men were not happy, but they understood. All but one of their group had served in the military, and they knew what they would be facing if they continued in pursuit. They searched the area for other signs suggesting they had made an escape, but it was clear what had happened. They returned to Mezzo before nightfall and reported their findings.
―
The next day, as Bishop and Sasha were about to leave for Gateway, there was excitement on the path leading out to the rim, as professor Bayek made his return. The two men followed Dr. Ramirez, and a host of others, as they went to meet him.
The doctor walked up to his friend and embraced him. While Bayek reciprocated, it was clear that he was uncomfortable with that type of affection. “What happened to you my friend,” Ramirez asked.