by Jack L Knapp
I decided I would take a small patrol out if they hadn’t returned by the fifth day. I let Lilia know what I had in mind and she just nodded; she was worried too.
I had converted a small shelter into a shop, and Lilia found me working there late on the fourth day after Robert had gone.
“Matt, you need to see this.”
“Is it Robert? Is anyone hurt?”
“It’s Robert, but come look.”
I put down the bow I’d been working on--I was wrapping leather for a handgrip--and took time for a drink of water. After that, I had no excuse to stall any longer, so dreading what I might see, I went outside.
It was Robert, sure enough. But where he’d led out a party of seven, I counted thirteen returning! They pulled loaded sleds, and most of them carried packs as well.
I looked on, bemused. Who were these people? One man looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t remember from where. Had he been one of the kitchen workers? If so, he looked a lot different now.
“Robert, I didn’t expect you to be gone long enough to have babies!”
He chuckled. “Matt, I didn’t plan on this. But I had to decide, and this was the only solution I could come up with.”
“OK, why don’t you get your people fed and find someplace for them to sleep. Get some food yourself and after that you can let me know the highlights, if you’re not too tired.”
“I’m not tired. I got four hours sleep last night, and we’ve got decisions to make.
“Three of those, the big man and the two women with him, were part of the mine’s kitchen staff. Half of the kitchen people and most of the miners have left the mine, the other three were part of the maintenance crew.
“Colin, he’s the kitchen guy, told me that the guards have been making alcohol. They got drunk three days ago and the guard sergeant--they use military ranks now--and two of his men caught Colin’s wife and raped her. They chased his daughter too, but by then Colin had heard the yelling and came out with a cleaver. One of those guards won’t be guarding anything until he grows a new arm. The others finally went back to their barracks, and Colin’s family has been barricaded in the kitchen ever since.
“The guards have gone hungry unless they cooked for themselves. Colin had control of the kitchen and most of the food supplies, but the guards broke into a storeroom and took what they wanted. No one’s seen the mine supervisors since this happened, so they may be dead.
“Anyway, Sal--he’s the maintenance foreman--brought his family into the kitchen with Colin’s. They forted up there and they’re in good shape, but they only had enough food for a couple of weeks more. They told me I could have anything I wanted, but only if I brought them out with me.
“So that’s what I did. We took everything we could haul or carry and made tracks out of there. I set up an ambush the next day, but no one was following us. Some of us got a little sleep while we were waiting, the rest remained on watch. We hit the trail after that and traveled as fast as we could.
“We made tracks while the moon was up, slept when we got tired. The mine people weren’t accustomed to pulling the small sleds and we didn’t have spare snowshoes, so I doubt we made ten miles that first day. We probably didn’t make a whole lot more the next day. We were moving faster by the time we got here, though, the new people got used to the snow and pulling the sleds.
“We brought more food with us, so that will help. We got some large bags of salt and some spices too.
“I don’t think the guards will come after us, but sooner or later someone will check on the mine. I don’t know what they’ll do. The guards will probably hang around until the food runs out, but there’s no telling what will happen after that. They may decide we’re their best source of food and women and come after us. We’ll just have to keep watch.”
“Robert, I don’t see what else you could have done. You said Colin’s wife was raped; is she able to travel now?”
“She’s kept up with the rest of us since that first day. We hauled her on a sled until she’d recovered enough to walk. All three of them apparently took her and they were trying for seconds when Colin got there. Two of them hauled the third one away, less that arm that Colin chopped off. He looked after his wife as soon as they took off.
“She blames the guards and also the people running the mine for what happened. I think she’s pretty much recovered physically, but it’s got to have been traumatic.”
“Lilia and I have been talking, Robert. She thinks we should go now. She says we’re only using up supplies if we wait any longer. At least, on the trail we’d be making distance and the people are ready. They’ve learned a lot since we got here.
“We need to get off the snow as soon as possible. It might take us weeks to get to where the grass is greening up. Two or three weeks from now, depending on what supplies you brought back, we’ll have to reduce the ration allowance.
“The animals won’t come back north until there’s something to eat. They’ll follow the new growth, and that won’t happen until the ground warms. The roots will be sending out new leaves, seeds will also sprout about then. It could take two months before the animals return, maybe even longer. And we don’t have enough food to last until then.
“We have to push the pace as much as possible while we’ve still got enough food for a full ration. It won’t be fun if we have to reduce what we’re feeding people. Working hard on short rations--well, it’s a good way to make them sick. Even if transplanted people are resistant to local diseases, the ones born on this timeline may not be, and anyway no one’s immune to starvation rations. Plus there are the kids, they’ll suffer more than the adults; even if they survive they may not develop normally. Later on, after we get to where there are animals, we can slow down.
“There’s another problem to consider. According to what Lilia’s told me, we’ll still have meat when the rest of our food is gone. We’re already short of vegetables and dried fruit. Lilia had some dried berries, but she’s only got one more jar of those left. When the vegetables and berries are gone, we’ll need to watch out for vitamin deficiencies. Scurvy can cripple people, cause them to lose their teeth, and lack of iodine causes brain development problems in kids. So I’m going to start restricting the dried fruits and berries immediately. The adults can have vegetables, not many but some, but only the kids will get dried fruit.
“If you agree, we pack the sleds tonight. Tomorrow morning we put our sleeping gear on top, tie it down, and get on the way. We’ve done enough practicing, it’s time to go. If the mine people decide they want whatever you took, we can at least make them chase us.”
“Let’s do it, Matt. I’ll tell my people, the ones who were on the trip. You pass the word to Lilia and she can tell the rest. I’ll talk to Colin and Sal too, they’re good men. I’ll let them get a night’s sleep, and I’ll talk to Monika about sleeping arrangements and food.”
Robert and I met with Monika before the two of them went off to begin organizing the tribe, I talked to Lilia and left her to organize our group. I packed my few tools before deciding to bed down early myself.
Lilia and Monika would be working tomorrow, but they wouldn’t have to make decisions. Robert and I would be responsible for that, and neither of us could afford to be tired. Making decisions when you’re short on sleep is a good way to forget something important or make a mistake. Mistakes on Darwin’s World get people killed.
I stowed my tools and supplies on one of the three large sleds we’d be using, then went to bed. Lee was out with some of his crew, watching Robert’s back trail. The women were doing the last-minute packing. I could hear one of the young ones, a little boy, fussing at the change in routine. Well, he’d soon get used to it.
Sometime during the night Lilia and Cindy joined me in bed, but I didn’t wake up.
Chapter 34
We needed increased security on the trip, so I put Lee in charge of that.
I had no idea what the guards from the mine might do and the same he
ld true for the mine operators, despite what Robert had said. His analysis had been based on what was normal when he worked at the mine, and things had changed in ways he might not know about. So we had to assume we were facing increased danger and would be until we’d traveled a considerable distance away from the mine.
The guards would know something had happened when they found Colin, Sal, and the women gone. As for the mine operators, I had few clues to their thinking. They were certainly Futurists, but whether they were from the same time as the ones who’d ‘harvested’ me, I didn’t know. From what I’d been told, the Futurists who’d taken me had no need for mining. Their technology produced everything they needed. So who were the mine operators?
There couldn’t be many of them available or they’d not have needed Robert’s people to do the mining. If they used the same technology as the harvesters to cross timelines, perhaps there were limitations on their version. They’d not have needed me to provide supplemental food if timeline-jumping had been easy and cheap. There was another possibility, that the food the Futurists were accustomed to downtime wasn’t what the local people here wanted to eat. If the food downtime was too different, that would give the supervisors a motive for trading with me to supply meat for their local hires.
Were the mine operators perhaps from earlier in the harvesters’ timeline? Perhaps from shortly after the device was invented? They might need the mine’s product to build the timeline jumper.
That explanation appeared to fit what I knew. Maybe the mine produced some sort of rare-earth element; something that was, by definition, rare. Something that was scarce enough for them to seek it on another timeline, something that had almost been used up downtime. And this timeline, uptime on Darwin’s World, still had untouched mineral deposits and people to mine them. There’d be no need for extensive training before the transplanted people could begin work. And the transplants were desperate enough for metal that they could be hired cheap.
Were the operators, the bosses and supervisors Robert had mentioned, always the same people or did they work in shifts? Perhaps spend a week or a month here before being replaced? Had the guards killed the Futurists when they’d taken over the mine? If so, what would the other Futurists do? The kitchen crew hadn’t seen any of the supervisors since the guards, fueled by alcohol, had taken over.
If I had guessed right, the Futurists needed the mine’s output. They wouldn’t give it up without a fight. And people who could build a timeline-jumper would also have advanced weapons. They might limit the spread of those weapons to the transplanted people, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t bring in well-armed commandos to wipe out the guards…and maybe come for us. They might even bring vehicles or time hoppers.
It might be simple, timeline crossing, or it might require enormous expenditures of money and energy. The implication, based on the one member of that Futurist transplant corps that I had met, was that timeline crossing for them was routine. And yet, the mine operators wanted us to supply local foods rather than simply bring food for the miners from downtime.
I mulled this over and thought of something else. I’d assumed that the people from that abandoned dwelling were dead. But suppose they had been examples of what the transport corps had tried to achieve? Had they been harvested, to become educated in the same way that I’d gotten some of my memories, then sent out to rejuvenate that suicide-ridden future civilization?
Lee was back in camp. I told him of my fear that the guards or the operators might be looking for us.
He nodded and said, “I’ll grab food and water and go back out. I’ll move out a reasonable distance, keep one man with me, and watch Robert’s trail. I’ll leave a third man halfway between where we’ll be and the camp. We watch for a raiding party, he watches us. I’d like to put someone with him but we don’t have people to spare. If something happens to the two of us, he can still warn you. I think that’s necessary. I hope we can spot any raiders before they spot us. They won’t have had much time to react, so I doubt they will be here this soon. And we’ll be concealed while they’ll be following Robert’s trail across the snow, so I expect we’ll see them before they can see us. What will you do, Matt?”
“If they get here before we leave, I just don’t know. We’ll do whatever we can, fight if it looks like we’ve got a chance, scatter into the woods if there are too many of them. If it’s the mine operators and they bring a force with modern tech, infrared maybe, we can burrow into a snowbank. That might disperse our heat enough so that they miss us. Some of us, anyway.”
He gave me a blank look when I mentioned ‘infrared’. Well, he understood the part about fighting or digging into the snow. That would have to be enough.
Lee went off to finish setting up his early-warning system and I began chivvying people to finish packing.
#
I had hoped to be on the road early, but it was not to be. The scene was mass confusion, despite all Robert and I could do. Lilia and Monica helped, but for the moment it seemed that all the teaching we’d done had been wasted. Well, the tribespeople would remember as soon as we got on the trail, or they’d relearn it the hard way.
I finally recalled Lee and he organized the rest of his small crew for security while we were traveling. One would scout ahead, two others would be off to the left and right sides for flank security.
Lee wanted Pavel on the left flank, but got an argument. He finally sent him forward to scout. The Pavel question was clearly not resolved.
But with Pavel out front...where was a saber-tooth when you really wanted one to show up? Or a pride of lions, maybe a pack of dire wolves, a shortfaced bear, anything?
#
I doubt we managed to get ten miles away from the village by mid-afternoon. I had hoped for more, but if everyone was as exhausted as I was, they weren’t going any further. We set up our first temporary camp and managed to get people fed and bedded down under thick furs. The sky was clear, so we decided not to build shelters. Our fire was out and guards were on duty before dusk, with reliefs notified which shift they’d be taking during the night. Robert and I walked through the camp, making sure people were as well taken care of as we could manage.
Colin, the former cook-supervisor, had proved to be a gem. He and his family, assisted by some of the tribe’s women, had the kitchen set up and food heating in much less time than I would have expected. People had been able to stop, take care of necessary personal business, lay out sleeping furs, then eat a hot meal. That part of our planning had worked well, so far.
We’d build snow shelters when the weather threatened, but tonight we slept out under starry skies. Two sentries circled the camp during the night, the first ones relieved by a second pair and those relieved in turn by a third.
Pavel took his turn without complaint. Lee paired him with Lilia. Colin’s efforts had freed her from any need to supervise the kitchen activities, so she now worked with whichever of us needed assistance. Tonight, she watched the camp and also made sure that Pavel did his share.
Robert had been busy getting people bedded down. Neither of us planned to take a turn on sentry duty, but the rest of the men and most of the women would do so during the trek. We intended to pair two women together and only pair men with men, except for Lilia.
Lilia was up before her turn, and when she checked on the pair that she and Pavel would relieve, they were alert and watchful.
No problems were reported that night and we got on the trail early next morning. The moon gave us enough light to pack and go. Morning starts would have to wait for daybreak when the moon was down, but by then packing up every morning and setting up camp in the late afternoon would be routine.
#
We settled into a routine as the days passed. Robert and I got up early, woke Lee and Colin, and then let them get their own people working. Lee’s three-person security team would eat something while they moved out to their positions. The rest of the people would get up and take care of morning chores. Children wo
uld be seen to and bedding packed. A quick meal, usually cold meat and bread; then finish packing and move out.
Sandra, Millie, and Cindy led off, because they woke up when I did and got a head start on packing. Lilia looked around the empty campsite to make sure nothing had been left behind, then took up position behind the last sled.
We’d pause for lunch at midday, the kitchen crew would pass out jerky and bread and sometimes a few dried vegetables from our dwindling stores, and half an hour later we’d be on the trail again.
Pavel became more of a problem two weeks later.
He loudly complained that Robert and I weren’t pulling night duty. I attempted to make him understand that we were never really off-duty, but often got called to solve minor emergencies that always seemed to crop up during the night. That explanation wasn’t good enough; he saw himself as a kind of deputy-leader because he still had influence with his group of easterners. Finally, Robert and I simply laid out his options.
“Pavel, you have a choice. You cooperate with us, and that means doing what you’re assigned to do and working for the good of all the tribe, or you pick any other direction and go your own way. If your people decide to go with you, so be it. But we’re not giving up any of the tools or equipment that we got from the mine. You can take your furs and personal possessions and the sled they’re loaded on. Nothing else.
“As for the rest of us, we’re packing. When we’re ready, we will move out. If your group isn’t packed, you’ll get left behind. You have a few minutes to convince your group to follow you, but after that the decision will have been made.”
Robert and I kept an eye on them. They argued loudly and then the discussion got quieter. Finally, they hurriedly packed their equipment and joined the rest, now about fifty yards behind us. We didn’t slow down but they caught up and I took a moment to question Lilia, still following as rear security.