Ixeos: Book One of the Ixeos Trilogy

by Jennings Wright

  “You can do that? Free them?” Marty asked.

  “Usually,” Vasco answered. “But we’ve lost some.”

  “Lost some?” Neahle face became pale.

  Vasco leaned forward. “The GPS trackers are not small sensors in their clothes or in a phone. The are built into neck collars that are surgically implanted into the spine at the base of the neck. There is a barb that clasps the vertebrae and gets covered with new bone. Sometimes it encroaches on the nerves or the disc, especially in an older person or one who had a neck injury sometime in their life. We can remove it, but it’s dangerous for several reasons. We have to do it in a place that the slave is expected to be, or the Firsts would track us with the GPS and we’d be captured. That means we operate in unsterile environments and in a big hurry, and it limits what instruments we can use. Sometimes removing the barb shatters the bone and paralyzes the subject.”

  “Oh, my gosh! What happens to them?” Neahle became even more white, only small spots of pink coloring her cheeks.

  “We give them something, and they die peacefully,” Vasco said matter of factly.

  “You kill them?” Marty asked, horrified.

  “They know the risks going into the removal. We don’t do it otherwise. The punishment for rebellion and escape is death, and it’s not a quick, painless execution. Usually, the Firsts do experiments on their captives. Without anesthesia. When there is nothing left to ‘discover,’ if the slave is still alive, they generally prefer death by electrocution. So if a removal procedure goes sideways, the deserter knows that we will give them a pharmaceutical cocktail that will put them to sleep peacefully, and from which they won’t wake up. Most find it a fair trade for the chance of freedom.”

  “Why can’t you just put them all somewhere and care for them? Why do you have to kill them?” Neahle cried.

  “The humans on Ixeos can’t use the tunnels. We have no way to get them anywhere, and even if we did, we don’t have the doctors, nurses or medicine needed to keep them alive and comfortable.” Vasco put a hand on Neahle’s shoulder, his face solemn.

  She covered her face with her hands. “Where do they go, when they’re free?” she whispered.

  “We have helped establish hundreds of rebel cells near to our tunnels so we can help as much as possible. We can’t allow more than a dozen people per location; that way they can stay under the radar. They’re in communication with each other through us, but only rarely directly so if they’re captured, they can’t be tortured into giving away others.” Vasco knelt down beside Neahle.

  “We’re in a war here, sweetheart. People are dying every day. What we’re doing is ultimately to put a stop to that, but right now it’s war and it’s ugly. The Firsts aren’t human. They don’t have emotion. Remember Mr. Spock? They’re like him.”

  “Spock did have emotion—he was half human,” Marty said.

  Vasco looked at him and laughed. “True enough. Vulcans then.”

  “And he had a meltdown in the movie.”

  “Movie?”

  “Yeah, couple years ago. Oh. After your time. You’re talking about the TV show.” Marty shook his head. All the time and space travel made him feel like he was in Star Trek himself.

  “Anyway,” Vasco continued, smiling, “We’re helping the rebels, and if we can find Darian and free him, that would be huge. That’s what we’re all here for. That’s what we’re all fighting for.”

  Landon walked over to the map. “There are still places to find here,” he said, pointing to the map. “And much of the world isn’t accessible: most of Africa and South America, for instance. We’re trying to find people who are alone and struggling and get them connected with the rebel groups. The more we can get on our side, the better. And we need to keep adding to our cache of technology…”

  “Technology?” Marty said, perking up. “What kind of technology?”

  Abacus pointed to some locations on the world map: London, New York, Beijing. “In the cities where the Firsts live they have electricity, internet, vehicles, phones. We’ve managed to appropriate some, and we’re trying to hack into their networks. That’s the only way we can figure out where the prison’s going, for one thing, but it would also help us if we knew any intel they had on the rebels so we could have advance warning of any raids.”

  Marty stood up, unconsciously rubbing his hands together. “Okay, now you’re talking. I know exactly where I’m going to fit in this outfit!”

  Chapter Ten

  The entire group left to join the rest of the tunnel residents for lunch. Neahle found Clay in the library reading “The Lord of the Rings.”

  “It’s weird they have the same books,” Clay said, marking his page and closing the book. “I don’t get that.”

  “I don’t get it either. But I guess we don’t need to get it to be able to help.” Neahle sat down at the table.

  “This was always my favorite book. Favorite movie, too. Everybody had a job to do to fight Sauron and evil to save Middle Earth, and even if they were scared or alone, they knew they had to do it, or it wouldn’t get done.”

  “Kinda like here, huh?” Neahle smiled at her brother.

  Clay shrugged. “I always thought that kind of thing only happened in books. I mean, in real life back home things aren’t so dramatic, you know?”

  “Not for us, maybe, but in parts of the world they are and always have been. You know that. World War II is your favorite part of history—that was a good versus evil fight.”

  “Like this,” he said, holding the book up. “I never really connected those until I was sitting here reading. I was looking at some of the history books first, trying to make sense of this war they’ve got going on. And then I saw the Tolkein and realized that all three—World War II, The Lord of the Rings, and this War of the Worlds thing here, they’re all the same when you get down to it. Good versus evil, freedom versus tyranny, love versus hate. All that stuff Dad’s always talking about.”

  “So does that mean you’re going to help?” Neahle asked.

  He stared at her, his blue eyes troubled. “Sam Gamgee says, ‘Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going.’ I’ve seen the movie a dozen times or more.”

  “And why do they keep going?” Neahle asked, knowing the lines just as well as he did.

  “Because ‘they were holding on to something.’ Frodo asks what they were holding onto, and Sam says, ‘That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it’s worth fighting for.’” Clay looked at her intensely. “It’s not our world, but it is. They have the same books, the same history. And if they have people like us, then it must be true that there’s some good still in this world, too; that’s got to be worth fighting for.”

  Landon spent the afternoon visiting with the four dozen or so outsiders currently living in the tunnels. He knew them all, knew their stories, and his comforting middle aged persona made everyone think of their favorite relative. At some point in the late afternoon they realized that he was gone; no one remembered seeing him leave.

  “That’s what he does,” Hannah said as she chopped onions with Neahle. “He’s here, then he’s gone.”

  “Where does he go?” Neahle asked, trying not to rub her burning eyes.

  “I don’t know. I get the feeling he doesn’t just visit our two Earths, but he doesn’t say. He makes us all feel stronger when he comes, so I don’t complain.” She looked over at the newcomer. “Your brother looks like he’s on board.”

  “Yeah. He can be kind of slow sometimes, but he’s a good guy. Even for a brother.” Neahle smiled. “He knows a lot about war. Our grandfather fought in World War II and he’s always been fascinated by it. I guess he never thought he’d be in World War III.”

  Marty accosted Abacus outside his office, bouncing on his toes
in excitement. “I can hack!” he announced. “I don’t brag about it—it’s kind of illegal—but I can do it. I’ve been hacking since I was fourteen. If you can get me to a computer, I can do it.”

  Abacus looked at him speculatively. “They call me Abacus because I’m good at math, engineering, that kind of stuff. When we first got here, the rebels had nothing, not even a slide rule. Not that anybody knows how to use a slide rule anymore. No calculators, nothing. I had some experience with computers, but I’m obviously decades out of date. We’ve had some pretty decent computer geeks here and they’ve made some progress, but none of them have been able to get inside the First’s network.”

  “I can!” Marty said grinning. “I know I can! Really, I’m good. Once, I hacked into the Department of Naval Intelligence. And once into American Express. It’s not as easy or fast as they make it look in the movies…” He looked at Abacus and frowned. “Not that you’ve probably seen any movies with hacking since you probably haven’t seen a movie in over thirty years…”

  The older man laughed. “We tried to watch some DVDs with a group in Chicago who had a generator, but it didn’t work out so well. We got halfway through something called Mama Mia and the generator died.”

  Marty made a face. “Who picked that out? Surely someone could break into a Blockbuster and find a decent movie! Jeez. Anyway, really, I can do it. I’d have to do it slow and steady, make sure I learned their systems, firewalls, all that. But it makes sense that they would use the internet structure that was in place before their attack, so unless they have some sci fi freaky space link or something, I can figure it out.”

  Abacus studied the teenager. “Besides Paris, there are three locations where we have stable power and internet where we’ve been able to house equipment. London, Washington DC, and Maastricht, in the Netherlands. We’ve got a few people in each that are trying to slowly worm their way in without raising any alarms.”

  “I can help! Wherever! Okay, London would be awesome… But wherever you need me, send me there, and I’ll do it.” Marty looked like a four year old with a grand plan for more chocolate cake.

  Abacus laughed. “Well, we all have a job. I would say we’ve found yours.” He held out his hand and shook Marty’s. “We’ve got some training we put everyone through here, trying to get you up to speed on just what things are like out there, how the tunnels work, the basic geography, all that. Vasco takes you through some safe portals; we give you a tour of Paris. A little self defense training if you need it, guns, even bow training for anyone who wants to join the hunting parties for food. That takes a week or two, depending on how things are up top. Meanwhile, I’ll put out feelers and see where you’d be the most help on a computer.”

  “Wow.” Marty said, looking at Abacus with amazement. “You, you’re taking me seriously. Not like I’m a kid. That’s never happened before!”

  “Here, you’re not a kid. You’re part of the team. If Landon brought you to us, you have something to offer, now. So, if you say you’re a hacker, I believe you’re a hacker; I’m going to get your butt in a desk chair as soon as I can.” He clapped the young man on the shoulder. “Glad you’re on our side.”

  Over dinner, Marty told his cousins about his upcoming job. While both of them could use the internet neither had the slightest clue how to hack into anything. They were amazed as Marty detailed his illegal activities over the past few years.

  “Your mom would have had a cow if the FBI or somebody turned up at your house!” Neahle said.

  “Yeah, true. But I’m not there anymore, and here, I don’t think there is an FBI anymore.” Marty grinned happily.

  “Here the Firsts just kill you,” Clay observed, chewing a mouthful of venison stew.

  “Also true. But we’re all gonna have jobs where that’s the downside, right? That’s the whole point! And I’m good at this. I can really make a difference. Abacus said they have some people working on it, but honestly, doing it wrong could make things way worse. I’m hoping to talk to some of the people not just where I’m headed—which I hope is London, because I always wanted to go to London—but also in Paris and DC and wherever it was he said in the Netherlands. Try to make sure they aren’t leaving a trail or raising any alarm bells along the network. I’m the newest one here, so I should have the most up-to-date knowledge, right?” His eyes were shining with excitement, and he was chewing but not tasting his food.

  Neahle leaned her head on his shoulder for a quick second then sat up. “Proud of you, cuz. And jealous. I don’t have any skills. I had a hard time cutting up onions for dinner!”

  “Abacus says we’ll have a week or two of training, learning the tunnels, and going up top into Paris. You might find something you’re good at during that, but if nothing else, you’ll get to see Paris.” Marty smiled.

  “I’d rather have gone on a study abroad, but I guess I can’t complain about seeing Paris, however it happens.”

  “Did he say what the training would be like?” Clay asked.

  “Um, yeah, sort of. Like I said, the layout of the tunnels. He said Vasco would take us through some safe portals. I don’t know if there’s some trick to using them, or what. And self defense training, guns, and, if you want to help hunt for meat, bow and arrow.”

  Clay’s eyes lit up. “Awesome! I’ve done a little hunting with Bryan’s dad, deer and turkey and ducks. Okay, the duck hunting didn’t go very well. But I can shoot fairly well, and I’d love to use a bow.”

  Neahle smiled. “Two down. Now, if I can just find my own thing, we’ll all be good.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Vasco stuck his torch in the sconce next to the short dark tunnel and smiled. “So here’s your first excursion. It’s kind of like when you followed the ducks—you’ll go on a little bit in the tunnel and then it will change in some way you’re not quite sure how to describe. Then you’re somewhere else. This one is really stable. The older the tunnel, the more permanent the portal is.”

  “Does that mean you could get stuck somewhere for good?” Neahle asked, horrified at the thought.

  The older man shook his head. “No, although, to be honest, the first time it happened to me, I was afraid of just that. What we’ve discovered is that the location of the doorways is fixed. But if the tunnel system is new—say a subway system or an underground mall—it’s not always open. It may take a few days for it to come back. The longest we’ve had to wait so far is two weeks, in Crystal City, Virginia. That’s a part of DC with an enormous underground mall. There’s a second portal to DC, through some old sewer tunnels that are no longer in service, so we try to use those unless we need to be in the southern part of the city fast.”

  “What happens if you can’t get back for two weeks?” Neahle asked.

  “You just keep on with your mission. If you have a short assignment, say to deliver a message, and you can’t get back, the rebels or any of our people on the ground can put you to work. If you are participating in a long term operation you just get back to work and check the door every day. It always opens eventually.”

  “Eventually. Great.” Neahle blew out a sigh.

  Laughing, Vasco entered the tunnel, stooping over. “Watch your head, this one’s low!”

  “Where are we going?” Marty asked.

  “To one of the oldest tunnels we have—a city that was called Gadara in ancient times. It was part of the Decapolis in Jordan. It’s got an old Roman aqueduct that was originally about ninety-five kilometers long. Where we’re going, it’s only about four hundred meters long and not super exciting. Just a tunnel cut out of rock. There’s nothing in Gadara—or Umm Qais as they called it in modern times—anymore. It was eliminated. But it’s pretty, with hills and fields, and it’s not far from the Sea of Galilee. We’ve got a couple of bikes there so we can go down to the lake, maybe even a swim.”

  “A swim!�
�� Neahle said. Their bathing to date had been sponge baths from plastic buckets and one soak in a small reservoir. “That’s excellent!”

  Moving forward, they quickly lost any light from the torch they’d left behind. Neahle had her right hand on the wall to keep her bearings; she realized that the rock had changed. Whereas the rock in the Paris tunnels was cool and always at least a little damp to the touch, the rock under her hand now was crumbly, dry, and slightly warm. She saw that there was dim light ahead. As her eyes adjusted, the walls looked no longer dark brown; they were now light grey. As the tunnel roof receded and she could stand upright, she looked around.

  “Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Marty whispered.

  They wound their way out of the ancient tunnel following Vasco, who had lit a new torch. The stone walls were roughly chiseled and Neahle learned quickly to tuck her arms tight to her sides to keep from being scraped.

  “The Romans dug wells first, then chiseled through and connected them to each other in a line. In some places the aqueduct was two hundred and sixty feet deep,” Vasco told them as they aimed for a dim light ahead.

  “How come there’s no water now?” Clay asked.

  “The pipe started in Syria and ran above ground for about sixty or sixty-five kilometers to the cities of the Decapolis, then went underground. The swamp where it started has been dried up for centuries, and the pipe that was above ground was destroyed centuries ago, which is good for us.”