Shroud of Doom

by William Manchee

  Chapter 24

  Isle of Muhl

   

  The big transport plane took off from Gallion headed for Pegaport, the TGA training center on the Isle of Muhl. It was the first of twenty planes bringing five thousand mutants for their basic training. Threebeard unfurled the map Colonel Zitor had given him. He wondered if Muhl was manmade. Except for its jagged and jittery form it was almost a perfect square, 257 kylods in length and 258.1 kylods in width. The western third of the island was separated north to south by the Drogal Mountains climbing to a modest 3,254 feet at its highest peak. The Pegaport Training Center at Muhl was located on the southwest corner of the island, west of the Drogal Mountains. To the south lay the Southern Sea and to the northwest the Yulev River. The Yulev River looked to be quite wide and there appeared to be but one bridge across it isolating the base from the rest of the island.

  On the bottom left corner of the map was the layout of the training facility itself. It lay in the shape of a triangle with a large airstrip and athletic field to the north. Along the river were hangers, fuel tanks, and the enlisted men's barracks. At the foot of the Drogal mountains were an armory, officers’ quarters, and endurance course. A road wound through the center of the base making a large circle, within which lay the base headquarters, the nutrition center, classrooms, a detention center, and parade ground. A wide beach separated the base from the Southern Sea. Eight guard towers were situated along the river and the beach, but there were no towers along the foothills of the Drogal Mountains.

  Threebeard remembered reading about the Drogals, the big, feathery birds that were native to the Drogal Mountains. Its natural prey were mountain rats, dirkbirds, and range deer but if it was hungry or felt threatened it might eat humans as well. The mountains contained rich mineral deposits and before WW VIII mining had been attempted. But working the mines was dangerous business with the Drogals on the prowl. Eventually the Drogals won the battle and the mines were shut down. As the plane began to make its descent a second lieutenant came by and sat next to Threebeard.

  “You must be Threebeard,” the lieutenant said.

  Threebeard looked up from his map and nodded. “Yes.”

  “I am Lt. Marsen. Colonel Zitor asked me to make contact with you and keep him apprised of your progress.”

  “Oh. Excellent. I was hoping I would be able to stay in contact with the colonel.”

  “You won’t be able to talk to him directly but you can send messages through me.”

  “Good,” Threebeard said.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to give you a little orientation before we land. There are some things you should know about.”

  “Okay. Like what?”

  "Pegaport is a high motivation facility. The people brought here are usually conscripts who have little desire to be soldiers.”

  “But we all volunteered,” Threebeard protested.

  “I know. Colonel Zitor tried to get them to send you to Dalo but Central Command thought mutants would need special attention.”

  “Great,” Threebeard spat. “So, what do we have to look forward to?”

  “Well, the drill sergeants at Pegaport are tough and mean. They think they have to be to keep the conscripts motivated. Most of recruits who graduate will be foot soldiers. They have to be in top physical condition, so a special emphasis is put on PT. Long morning runs, rigorous weight training, and strict discipline is the norm. Those who can't maintain the pace or follow the rigid rules end up in Hell Squad.

  “Hell squad?” Threebeard repeated warily.

  "Yes. In Hell Squad recruits are treated differently. Central Command believes that they have to be given special motivation to break their independent spirit. It’s their philosophy that there is no room for independent thinkers—second guessers—in the TGA. Orders must be carried out quickly and precisely as given—command thinks, soldiers obey.

  Threebeard felt his stomach tightening. He wished he had been given this orientation back at Gallion where he could have changed his mind about becoming a soldier.

  Lt. Marsen continued. "Motivation is dished out in a number of interesting ways in Hell Squad—stick therapy, food or sleep deprivation, buzz gun motivation, or, if all else fails, electric implants. Stick therapy is pretty simple. The drill sergeant carries around a long white stick made of a hard rubber. It has a nasty sting and has been known to cause permanent scaring. It's used across a candidate's arm or back if he's not cooperating.

  Threebeard squirmed nervously, not particularly liking what he was hearing.

  "Food or sleep deprivation is employed in cases where candidates have a high pain tolerance, or actually enjoy pain. It's pretty self-explanatory. Meals and kyloons of sleep are taken away for bad behavior. Recruits who need food and sleep tend to become much more cooperative. But even that is not enough for some. The buzz gun is harmless but very painful—ten times the pain of the stick. Electric implants allow the drill sergeant to impose pain from a distance for substandard performance or disobedience.”

  Threebeard swallowed hard. He was becoming angry at what lay ahead. “So, why are you telling me this. Are you trying to scare me?”

  “No. I just want you to know what you are up against so you’ll be careful. Do exactly what your drill sergeant says and don’t give him any reason to discipline you. Try to be inconspicuous.”

  “Inconspicuous is a little difficult when you have three heads,” Threebeard noted bitterly.

  Lt. Marsen laughed tentatively. “Right. Well, luckily with an entire class of mutants you won’t stick out as much. Anyway, your training here will be less than a phase, then you will be on to Pogo Island for officer training. You’ll be treated much better there.”

  Threebeard sighed deeply. “Right. If I live that long.”

   

   

  After Threebeard left for TGA training, Artis went back to the Ural Desert to see how the nanomite city had fared in the wake of the quakes and Mt. Alabash’s eruption. It had been six phases since the volcanoes on Tarizon finally became silent and the roads had been repaired enough for travel. The skies were still a dark grey and very little sunlight penetrated the shroud of ash surrounding Tarizon. Artis felt sad looking out over the ugly grey landscape remembering how magnificent it had been on her last trip. She was also fearful as to what she would find when she reached the site of the nanomite city. Could it have survived the quakes and the lava? She feared the worst.

  Once they got off the main highway locating the nanomite city was extremely difficult as all G.P.S. navigation was down due to the general power outage over the entire planet. When Central Authority decided to suspend nuclear power and rely primarily on solar energy it had seemed like a prudent idea. Solar energy was cheap, clean, and there was an inexhaustible supply, or so they thought. Fortunately, Giant had a good sense of direction and eventually got them to their destination.

  “I believe our camp was right over there on that bluff. We’ll be able to tell for sure if our monitoring station is still intact.”

  Before they had left, Giant had set up a camera to monitor the nanomite city until they got back. He had done it hastily so he wasn’t sure if it had survived. The camera was usually solar powered but it had a battery backup attached that was good for about ten kyloons. He thought that would have been long enough to capture the fate of the city, but he wasn’t sure.

  “Over there Giant said, pointing to a four foot square box sitting precariously on the edge of the bluff.”

  Artis looked over at where the nanomite city had been and her heart sank. There was nothing there. The nanomite city had vanished!”

  “Where did it go?” Artis moaned. “How could it just disappear?”

  Giant shook his head. “I don’t know. Hopefully, the camera will tell us.”

  Giant rushed over to the monitoring station and examined the camera inside. “It looks okay. After we set up camp we can take a look at the footage and see what happened.”

  Artis cl
osed her eyes and tried to focus on the nanomites. If there were any alive she thought perhaps she could make contact with them. Feeling nothing, she walked over to where she remembered the nanomite city to be and tried again. After a kyloon without success she went back to where Giant and Faruk had just finished setting up camp.

  “Give me a minute and we can look at the footage,” Giant said when he saw Artis walking grimly into camp.”

  Artis nodded. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see the demise of nanomites that it had taken her so long to befriend. She felt sick inside, but she knew Threebeard would want to know for sure what had happened. “Okay. I’m going to get me a Tekari. You want one?”

  Giant nodded. “Sure. We’ll probably need it.”

  Giant typed in the commands to view the tape in fast forward mode as they couldn’t possibly watch it in real time. The view showed the city motionless in its splendor. Then suddenly the ash began falling making it difficult to see anything. A little while later the ground shook violently and when it stopped a crack down the middle of the city could be seen. Ash continued to fall but Artis and her friends could see the nanomites fighting back.

  “What’s that?” Faruk asked.

  “It looks like they are building a wall?” Artis replied.

  “A wall for what?” Giant asked.

  But before anyone could comment the sky turned red and they got their answer as the lava hit the nanomite wall. Artis gasped in shock and wonder at how the wall diverted the lava around the nanomite city. They all laughed and cried tears of joy as the rains came and the nanomite city had somehow survived. But they knew the story wasn’t over and waited for the final chapter. It came quickly. Just as the city seemed miraculously to have been repaired, the ground shook violently.

  “Oh, my God! Another tremor!” Faruk gasped.

  Artis leaned forward willing the tremor to end but instead the nanomite city collapsed and disappeared.

  Giant stood up abruptly. “What happened?” Giant asked. “Where did it go?”

  “The earth swallowed it,” Artis replied dejectedly.

  They watched in silence as the quake stilled and the camera continued to shoot at the spot where the nanomite city had been. Then suddenly clouds began to build and it got very dark. An ominous feeling came over Artis as torrential rains came followed by a flash flood that poured into the sinkhole that had swallowed the nanomite city. Artis had been hopeful that some of the nanomites had survived the quake, but she knew there’d be no survivors of the flash flood.

  Giant shut off the video. “Skutz! I can’t believe after all they went through, God would let them die that way.”

  Artis looked at Giant. She loved God but shared Giant’s dismay at how He would let tragedies like this happen. She wondered what purpose God had for all the volcanic eruptions and the destruction of Tarizon’s atmosphere. Hadn’t man done enough with its nuclear wars? Was this God’s punishment for all the evil in the world? If so, why punish the good along with the evil? Why destroy innocent nanomites who only sought to live in peace? She got up and gazed out over the landscape and saw the nanomite city in her mind’s eye. Thank God I still have the replica. Finally, she decided she better let Threebeard know what happened. She closed her eyes and established a link.

  “Brother.”

  “Yes, Artis. I hope you have good news.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  She explained what had happened to the Nanomites.

  “I feared that would be their fate. They were too close to the volcano.”

  “Do you think there are any nanomites that have survived?” Artis asked.

  “Hopefully. I believe there are other desert locations where they live. You will have to search for them. We can’t let all our hard work go to waste. The nanomites are a wondrous life-form and we must make contact with them again and help them recover from this terrible disaster.

  “I will search the corners of the world until I find more of them,” Artis promised him.

  “Good. I wish I could help you but I will be tied up here in Muhl for some time. Then I have to go to Pogo Island.”

  “Why Pogo Island?”

  “Colonel Zitor has arranged for twenty of us to go to officer training school. It’s critical that we get this training so we can train officers for the mutant army.”

  “How is your training so far?” Artis thought.

  “Incredibly demanding. Our drill sergeant, Sgt. Greer, obviously wasn’t happy being assigned to a mutant squad and he’s taking it out of us. I think he wants us to fail.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “I’ll survive, but there are some in the squad who may not. I have tried to help them but I can’t be seen doing it or I’ll get in trouble.”

  “I’ll pray for you, brother,” Artis said.

  “I’ll do the same for your quest to find nanomites who have survived the tremors and volcanos.”

  Artis broke the link and went back to camp. She found Faruk and Giant sitting where she’d left them and looking rather forlorn.

  “All right. Our next task is to find any nanomites who have survived. We’ll stay here a few days in case there are any here. If we don’t find any we will have to search other deserts for them.”

  “Other deserts?”

  “Yes, nanomites have been seen in the Duesi Desert in Synclaire and Rezoon Desert in Darkland. Hopefully, some will have survived.”

  That night before Artis went to bed she tried to connect with the nanomites but got no response. After finally giving up she went to bed but had trouble falling asleep. Finally, when she dropped into a shallow slumber she began to dream about the nanomites and the memories they had shared with her. In the middle of the night she woke up, tears flowing down her cheeks. She wondered if she’d ever share their thoughts again. She feared she wouldn’t.

   

   

  Threebeard’s mental clock woke him up just a few loons before the lights would come on in the barracks. He dropped to the floor and then began shaking beds to wake everyone up. Satisfied everyone was awake and preparing for the drill sergeant’s arrival, Threebeard quickly dressed, made this bed, and took a quick trip to the relief station. As he was walking back to his bunk the lights came on and to his horror he noticed Gin Slitter was still sound asleep. He remembered shaking him and telling him to get up, but apparently it hadn’t worked. Threebeard rushed over and began shaking him again.

  “Gin! Get up. Come on. You only have a few tiks!” Threebeard said.

  Gin blinked a few times. Noticed the lights on and jumped out of his bunk.

  “Get dressed. I’ll take care of your bunk.”

  It was strictly forbidden for one recruit to do another recruits job, but Threebeard didn’t care. He wanted all his men to survive boot camp, and he would do whatever it took to insure they would. The door to the drill sergeants quarters opened and Sgt. Greer stepped out with a malicious smile on his face. He quickly scanned the room until his eyes fell on Threebeard helping Gin make his bunk. He walked over briskly and stood before them.

  “So, is Gin incapable of making his own bunk?” Sgt. Greer spat.

  Threebeard turned around and stood at attention. Gin, who had very large, barrel shaped arms, pulled on his last boot and straightened up. Sgt. Greer looked at him in disgust.

  “No, sir. He is quite capable,” Threebeard replied.

  “Then why are you making it for him?”

  “Ah. Just helping him out, sergeant.”

  Sgt. Greer looked at his watch. “Well, could it be that he had trouble getting up this morning?”

  “Ah. I don’t know, sergeant. I just noticed he was running late and decided to pitch in and help.”

  The sergeant got up close and looked in Gin’s eyes. “You have trouble getting up, you little slubdub? Are we working you too hard? You going to complain to your mommy?”

  Gin leaned back in terror. Stuttering, he replied. “N...n...n
o, sergeant. Just ov...ah...ov...overslept. Sorry.”

  “Sorry? You’re sorry?” the sergeant taunted. “When you are a soldier, sorry is not good enough!”

  “Yes, sergeant. It won’t happen again.”

  The sergeant turned back to Threebeard. “As for you. I’ve had my eye on you from the very first day you arrived. Who the skutz do you think you are? Getting up early and rousting everyone out of their bed before the lights come on? Reminding everyone of what they’re supposed to be doing? Keeping everyone out of trouble. What are you trying to do? Take my job?”

  Threebeard shook his head. “No, sergeant. Just trying to keep everything running smoothly.”

  “Well. That’s not your job! That’s my job. So, since there isn’t room for two drill sergeants in this squad, I’m going to ship you out somewhere where your talents might actually be appreciated.”

  Threebeard frowned. He didn’t like where this was going but he didn’t know what he could do about it.,

  “Where would that be, sergeant?” he asked warily.

  The sergeant laughed. “That would be Hell Squad, son. I’m shipping you out to Hell Squad and I’ve already talked to Hell Squad’s drill sergeant, Sgt. Zolt Hovic, and he can’t wait to see your sorry ass. He said he’s been wanting to go on holiday.”

  Threebeard swallowed hard. Somehow he didn’t think Sgt. Hovic would be going on holiday.

   

   

  After studying her brother’s research on the nanomites, Artis decided that the Duesi Desert in south central Synclare was her best bet for finding living nanomites. Numerous formations had been spotted there and they were far enough away from the two closest volcanoes, Mt. Pohl and Mt. Rumbia, that they wouldn’t have been destroyed by lava flow. Fearing that the nanomite life-form might be in danger, Artis, Giant and Faruk took a freighter from Bama Uza in southern Tributon to Keba in southern Tuht. From Keba they acquired an ATV from the local cell there and drove to Roshaunda, the capital of Synclare which sat just fifty kylods southwest of the Duesi desert. There they picked up a local guide named Phen Cantis.

  Roshaunda was situated in a dense forest just north of the Weeping Mountains. Usually the landscape in this area was breathtaking, but Artis and her companions found it bleak and depressing. Six phases without the sun and a hard coating of ash had turned the dense green forest into a dismally gray wasteland. Artis couldn’t tell for sure, but it appeared fires must have rampaged through the area leaving nothing but devastation in their path. Whereas, normally a forest fire would only cause temporary damage and trees and vegetation would immediately begin to emerge from the fire’s ashes, this hadn’t been the case this time. Without the sun’s rays nothing could grow and the destruction appeared to be permanent.

  Artis hoped this wasn’t the case. Threebeard had told her that he believed Tarizon’s atmosphere would gradually heal itself over time, but it may take twenty cycles for that to happen. As they drove through the dismal landscape she hoped it wouldn’t take that long.

  The Duesi Desert was no more picturesque than the Weeping Mountains. Whereas the sky was lighter and visibility much better, the endless gray landscape made Artis long for color. She remembered the Ural Desert the first time she had visited it, and tried to imagine what the landscape around her would have looked like had it not been for the volcanoes wreaking havoc on the world. She wished for a yellow flower of a green cactus, but saw nothing but depressing black and grey. When they finally reached their destination, a stark valley where nanomite formations had been reported just two cycles earlier, Artis was depressed and not optimistic they would find anything living in the desolate valley where they found themself. Nevertheless, they set up camp and started searching for anything that remotely resembled a nanomite formation.

   

   

  Hell wasn’t a strong enough term for what Threebeard found in his new squad. They were a diverse group of recruits who now had one thing in common, they were all terrified of Sgt. Hovic. Most of them had already felt the sting of his white rubber stick and many had already spent time in solitary confinement. Threebeard was appalled at the tactics being employed and one day made the mistake of complaining about it.

  Sgt. Hovic had been picking on a mutant named Tuckh who was a slow runner due to his feet being slightly out of alignment. Threebeard knew he was running as best he could but Sgt. Hovic insisted his problem was laziness. One afternoon Sgt. Hovic decided to place a motivation collar on Tuckh. It was the first time such a training tool had been employed and Threebeard was sick watching the sergeant placing it around his neck. Once it was in place he ordered Tuckh to run five laps. Tuckh tried to comply but every time the sergeant thought he wasn’t running fast enough he’d give Tuckh a little jolt. Finally, Threebeard couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Sergeant. Stop doing that. It won’t help. He’s slow because he has a congenital defect in his feet. Haven’t you seen it?”

  Sgt. Hovic glared at Threebeard. “Did I ask for your opinion, soldier?” Sgt. Hovic spat.

  “No, but—”

  “Shut your mouth then, you dirty slubdub! If I want your opinion I’ll ask for it. If he’s been assigned to this platoon then Central Command must think he’s physically fit and who am I to second guess them?”

  “Just look at his feet,” Threebeard pressed. “They are not fit for running with any speed.”

  “I said shut up!” Sgt. Hovic snarled. “You don’t get to provide input unless I ask for it.”

  “It’s just that this man has volunteered for service to Tarizon and this is the way he is treated?”

  Sgt. Hovic tapped his wrist array and spoke into the microphone. “Corporal Leether, get out here at once. I need you to escort someone to the tank.”

  A jolt of fear stabbed Threebeard. He’d read about the sensory deprivation chamber and how mentally debilitating it could be. The tank was the last place he wanted to be taken, but he knew resistance would be futile as the sergeant could summon the MPs with his wrist array. His stomach was in knots when Corporal Leether came to get him. He took deep breaths trying to calm himself. He thought perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad in the tank since he knew what to expect and could take counter measures to keep from going mad. Still, he was tempted to squeeze Corporal Leether’s lungs with his third hand until he passed out and then escape into the Drogal Mountains. Unfortunately, that would end all hope of raising a mutant army and, therefore, wasn’t an option. He’d simply have to survive the tank somehow. He wondered how long Sgt. Hovic would keep him there.

  The tank was in a bunker below ground. Several platoons were marched to the bunker so they could watch the insubordinate recruit being led inside to the tank. Just watching a fellow recruit being subjected to the sensory deprivation chamber was a tremendous deterrent to future disobedience, so all of the drill sergeants brought their platoons to watch as often as possible. Threebeard noticed a group of officers loitering around with bemused expressions on their faces. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could get a thrill out of torturing another human being. He cursed the sadistic group of skutz and vowed someday to wipe the smiles off their faces.

  Once inside Threebeard was stripped naked, dropped into the tank of green slimy water, and secured so his head was barely above the water line. He had no idea how long he was to be subjected to this torture as Sgt. Hovic hadn’t bothered to tell him. He tried to relax and suppress the terror that was stabbing at him. He knew from his study of the sensory deprivation tanks that he was in no physical danger. This was mental torture so all he had to do was go to another place in his mind and ignore what was happening to him. Just as he was starting to feel a little better the chamber door was rudely closed and Threebeard was plunged into total darkness.

   He let out a gasp and struggled to get free but this movement just caused the water to slap over his face and get into his nose and mouth. He swallowed a mouthful of the green gunk and nearly choked to death. When he finally quit coughing he held his
breath until the water calmed. He didn’t dare move after that and resolved not to ingest anymore of the wretched liquid. Get hold of yourself. Calm down. Relax. He told himself.

  After finally calming down he thought about Artis and tried to connect with her but felt nothing. How could that be? I’ve always been able to connect with Artis no matter how far away she was. He finally realized the tank must be made of lead or some other dense substance that could not be penetrated. A sick feeling came over him knowing that he was isolated from the rest of the world. Then he wondered if somehow the Purists had found out about the Loyalist plan to build a mutant army and decided to kill the one responsible for its creation. Depression consumed him and he wondered if he’d ever again see the light of day.

   

   

  Artis and her companions searched every square foot of the valley where the nanomites had been seen but found nothing. Between the tremors and the ash all signs of the nanomites had vanished. After traveling to the other sites in the Duesi Desert with similar results, she decided to contact Threebeard and see if he had any ideas. But, when she tried to make contact with him she felt nothing. Alarmed she thought about Nic and immediately made contact.

  “Nic. Have you talked to your brother lately?”

  “No. Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve tried to make contact with him but I can’t do it. I wonder if anything has happened to him.”

  “I don’t think he’s in any danger. Colonel Zitor assured him he would be safe. He said the training would be tough, but nothing he couldn’t handle.”

  “Well, something is wrong. I’ve always been able to connect with him. I’m scared.”

  “Okay, sis. I’ll try to connect with him. If I can’t I’ll call Colonel Zitor and have him check on him.”

  “Good. Thank you. I’ll feel better once I know he is okay.”

  “So, how is your search coming?” Nic asked.

  “Not good,” Artis thought.“ There is no sign of them here in Synclare.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Go on to the Rezoon desert, I guess.”

  “That’s a long way,” Nic noted.

  “I know, but we can’t let an entire life-form be destroyed. We have to help them survive somehow.”

  “Right. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. We’re going to travel to Rallis on the coast of Merria and take a freighter to Pulugas in Darkland. It will probably take us a fifteen days to get there.”

  “Well, be safe. I hope you find the nanomites.”

  “I hope so too. I can’t believe they are all dead. How could that be.”

  “Well, there is no guarantee that any of us will survive. On the news they say twenty million humans have already died.”

  “Oh, dear God. How could that be?”

  “Be careful of marauders. There are a lot of desperate people out there trying to survive.”

  “Yes, so I have heard. So far, we’ve managed to avoid them.”

  “Keep in touch. I’ll pray your quest is fruitful.”

  “Thank you, brother. I love you.”

  “Me too. Be safe.”

  Artis opened her eyes and looked around. She felt better having talked to Nic but still was worried about Threebeard. She couldn’t imagine what could have happened to him. The next day they left Synclare and traveled to the coast for their voyage to Pulugas in Darkland. She’d heard that Azallo had been hit particularly hard by tremors, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis and wildfires. This was to be expected since there were eight volcanoes currently erupting on the continent. So, she wasn’t optimistic about finding any nanomites alive there, but she still had to try.