World Wright Incorporated (World Wright Inc. Book 1)

by Vlad ben Avorham

  “Fuck you, Sir!” St. Claire replied with a grin.

  “Much better. Such a potty mouth at your age.” Davidson teased as he finished tying up the boots. Seeing St. Claire stiffen, he just asked with a grin, “What too soon?”

  “Only about twelve years.” St. Claire grumbled.

  Davidson sighed, and his tone got serious. “John, I know this isn’t easy. There isn’t shit either of us can do about it right now. So you’re just going to have to embrace the suck, son. I don’t have to tell you, we’re not getting out of this one anytime soon. Just sitting here isn’t helping our situation. In your current condition, you’d not be much help on doing a recon patrol. So what I need you to do instead, is get me an inventory. Try to get the egg head squad organized.” Davidson rubbed his eyes wearily, realizing exactly what a task he was leaving for the young man. “I’ll speak to Dr. Godfreed before I leave. Have him sort of put some authority behind your words, considering...” he just vaguely gestured at St. Claire’s current appearance. “Think you can handle it?”

  St. Claire let out a long sigh. “Yeah boss. I’ll get it handled one way or another. You just be careful out there and don’t leave me stuck here alone with them, ok?”

  Davidson grinned, “Good to know you care.”

  St. Claire snorted. “Never said that, just don’t want to be stuck baby sitting the egg heads by myself.”

  Davidson patted him on the shoulder as he moved back to have a word with Dr. Godfreed. Seeing the others still huddled in the back, mostly in shock, Davidson knew that this was the calm before the storm. When the shock wore off and the precariousness of their situation began to truly dawn on them, that was when the real danger would begin. Davidson really hoped to have scouted the area and returned with at least some hopeful news before then or things would go downhill quickly. Quietly Davidson motioned for Dr. Godfreed to join him in at the door between the cockpit and the basket. With his voice pitched low, “Dr. Godfreed, this is between you and the command staff for the moment. We’re not going anywhere soon. Tell them that power is down. Tell them to gather tools and brainstorm options for restoring power. Between you and me, it’s not happening, and probably wouldn’t matter if it did too much structural damage. So as not to cause a panic before I can get a better grasp of the over-all situation, keep them focused on a solution to the power problem. Lt. St. Claire also became younger.” He stopped as he saw Dr. Godfreed wince. “Physically, he’s about four or five right now. I need to run a quick recon patrol, survey the local area. While I’m gone, you’re the only one physically capable of mounting a credible defense should it come to that, as well as maintaining order. Can I count on you for this?”

  Marcus’s eyes went wide, but he quickly nodded. He took a steadying breath and in a voice loud enough to be overheard said, “Yeah Commander, I think we can handle working on that. Anything to get us back up and running.”

  Davidson gave him a firm, confident nod. Only Marcus could see the gnawing concern hidden behind the impassive face. He turned to the others and said, “Ok people huddle up. Here’s what we know so far...”

  Davidson started to pick up the crash axe, but thought better of it and tucked it inside the door to the basket before selecting a 9 inch long screw driver instead and slipping it into his pocket before cracking open the hatch and stepping out into the dazzling sunlight.

  Could have been much worse

  Davidson clamored out of the top hatch and on to the spine of the wrecked craft. As his eyes adjusted to the bright light, he realized that they had wedged into a small crevice about two-thirds of the way up a rocky cliff face. He was probably only ten yards from the top of the cliff, and maybe twenty-five or thirty above the roiling surf below. Skies were a bright clear blue, and the sea was calm as glass out away from shore and a beautiful sapphire blue.

  The warm sun was bright and intense but with the cooling sea breeze it wasn’t unpleasant. In other circumstances, he would have liked to sit and just watch the waves for hours. He noticed with a smile that there were many sea gulls in the area. If the birds could eat, then so could he. He sighed with relief. That was one worry out of the way.

  One down, only a million more to go. He shook his head to clear the negativity He looked over his bird and couldn’t help the sinking feeling that threatened to swamp him under. His initial assessment was too generous. This bird would never fly again. The left wing had completely sheared off when they translated back into real space and was sitting on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff face. The right wing and a portion of the nose cone were embedded in the cliff's rock itself.

  The good news is that would stabilize it and likely keep it from falling into the sea. The bad news was that it meant that they weren’t moving. There was no easy way up or down. Ok, down was easy but not a good idea. He took a moment to gather his wits about him and ducked back in to the hatch. The crew emergency escape hatches on the sides of the craft both had a solid twenty foot long, 1500lb test nylon cable attached just inside the hatch for emergency egress. With a little effort, he could connect them and have a safety line in place for future trips. Assuming of course he made the first one in one piece.

  Davidson sighed as he squinted up at the rock face. ‘standing here looking at it would get nothing done’, he thought to himself as he settled the coiled cable over his shoulders and began to climb. He found it slow going. He wasn’t even halfway up when he really missed his old calloused hands, if not his old arthritic fingers and knees.

  A long and sweaty half hour later, he pulled himself up over the rim. He knew he should be looking around for danger, but the climb had really taken a lot out of him. He lay there for a moment, just panting and staring up into the sky. His body may be young again, but it hadn’t been hardened at all. His hands were a raw mess, and despite the boots, his feet were already getting blisters, and unless he was completely mistaken, he was already well on his way to a very fine sun burn. He needed to get this little scouting mission over as soon as possible and give his body a chance to adjust. Or he would be no good to anyone by tomorrow morning.

  With those thoughts in mind, he looped one end of the cable securely around a large boulder and threw the other end over the side. He smiled happily to himself when it coiled slightly at the bottom, with about fifteen feet to spare. Davidson took a moment to take in his surroundings. The top of this peak he found himself on seemed to be the high point of the small island. The entire area was covered in short scrub land and sparse trees, though lesser vegetation grew thick and abundant. There was a small harbor off to what he, based upon the current position of the sun, decided to consider east and what looked like a small village on it. Further inland a a bit north of the village was a large area with a glistening black surface. It seemed too big to be a parking lot, and too irregular in shape. Out ever farther on toward the northern tip, it looked like he could see smoke curling up from more fires, so potentially another little village. It seems likely as the surrounding land appears to be broken up into fields by the patchwork design that Davidson could make out, even from this distance. Stretching as far as the eye could see, off to the south the Island was just rolling hills covered with more of that scrub land. If there were any people or resources to be had, there Davidson couldn’t figure out what they would be from this vantage point. What he could see, or at least thought it could, it was far enough not be be able to be certain, was possibly another little dot of an island off on the horizon.

  Not wanting to be gone from the others any longer than he must, and not willing to over stress his body, Davidson set off at a brisk walk to inspect the nearest clumps of trees.

  Abundance Report

  Davidson had spent longer away than he had wanted, and the sun was getting low in the sky as he brought back the last crude leaf lined twig basket to the top of the cliff. He could feel the burn on his skin and knew it wasn’t a good sign. He’d spent as much time as he could in the shade of the trees while wild gathering. Food would not b
e a problem, at least in the near term. Water would be worse, but they had brought enough along that with rationing, they would still be fine for several days.

  At the top of the cliff he stopped and called out, “John!”. When he got no reply and not really wanting to get louder for fear of attracting unwanted attention, he hefted a fist sized rock and hurled it at the top of the ship. BONG! “John St. Claire!” he called out again.

  This time it wasn’t long and his efforts were rewarded by the hatch sliding open and a tiny head popping up through. St. Claire waved up at Davidson, “Glad you’re back!” He was up the chute in an instant but as soon as he put a bare foot on to the sun baked metal skin of the XDC-131 he howled in pain and nearly fell back through the hatch. Davidson cursed himself for not thinking of this.

  Moments later, Marcus Godfreed stepped carefully out of the hatch and squinted up at Davidson. Davidson called down to him, “How is he?”

  Marcus shook his head. “Got burned pretty good. It should heal up fine, but he won’t be doing much walking for the next day or two.”

  Davidson swore under his breath again. It was careless minor accidents like this that can be life or death in survival situations. They were going to have to be more careful. He just took a deep breath and released. Can’t undo what’s done, only learn from it. “I need you to help with the groceries. I went for takeout.” Davidson said, as he started to lower the first three baskets that he had tied to the end of the rope.

  Marcus was shocked to see the amount of food in each as he untied them and watched Davidson started pulling the rope back up for the next load. Fifteen minutes later, the twenty mid-sized baskets of wild olives and figs, and various greens were all lowered down. Before Davidson could begin his decent, Marcus stopped him. “Hey, not yet! You’ve got one more job. Hold tight, I’ll be right back.” He said as he took the last of the baskets over to the hatch. After handing the last of them down, someone handed him up a bundle which he tied to the bottom of the rope and said, “Pull ‘er up!”

  Davidson’s brow wrinkled a moment but hand over hand, he figure it wouldn’t be long before his question was answered. It wasn’t a horribly heavy package. He was only confused for a moment when he saw it. They had found cargo netting on board. With some quick alterations, they had cut it into thin strips two grids wide and fastened the ends together. Just like the marines used in the second world war to get from the deck of the navy ships to their landing craft, he could easily go down this much more secure than the rope. Damn, but this might just save his poor shredded hands. Picking up the crash axe and the four long steel spikes that had been rolled up in the middle of the webbing, Davidson set about driving them deep into the solid stone and securing the top of his ladder.

  Strangers in a Strange Land

  Early Morning

  Johnny wasn’t happy. Oh, the mix of aloe and freshly pressed olive oil that Dr. Gupta improvised had helped, but they had all been cooped up in this tiny tin can for two days while he and the Commander recovered. It was hot; It was cramped, and it had started to smell like a like a locker room after the first day, and this was the morning of day three. Water was rationed. The diet, while far from starvation, wasn’t what they were used to, and made the rationed toilet paper situation more of an issue than he wanted to think about. To top it all off, all he had to wear was this improvised loincloth made from some curtains that were originally used to hide away a small section of the galley where cleaning supplies were kept. Out of eight extremely accomplished adults, none of them knew more about sewing than how to repair a button. The mind boggles.

  He looked resentfully at the improvised harness made from the seat restraints. While everyone else would get to carry improvised back packs full of useful items scavenged from the wreck, because of his small size and lack of shoes, Sam Roth would have to carry him. The Commander had assigned the job to Josh Roth, but he had put up such a bitch about it that Johnny had in frustration said in his best Yoda voice, “This young padawan is not worthy. Teach I will not. Young Master Samuel, instruct I shall!”

  In a tin can full of tired geeks on the raggedy edge, it was funny enough that Sam now took on the chore without complaint. Even Josh laughed. Johnny wondered how many times he was going to need Yoda before the long day was over. He sighed and began strapping into the harness and attaching the various small items he had gathered that might prove useful. Including one of the flare guns and six of the flares. The other was with Dr. Gupta. The Commander had the crash axe, and said as soon as they were up top, they would cut a large club for Dr. Godfreed. They might not be as armed as they would like to be, but for an unarmed craft, it was the best they could do on short notice.

  Damn Neanderthal

  Georgia had been trudging through the wilderness for the last four hours. She had blisters on her feet and she stank. She had been sleeping in this damn flight suit for two days, and while her expensive silk stockings had crumbled to dust, her cheap rayon underwear survived untouched. Too bad it was about six sizes too large for her now. How crazy was that? She never thought it would upset her losing almost two hundred pounds and over forty years off of her looks? It’s just, did she have to trade her entire world for it? Yeah, the work she was doing now was classified at the moment, but when they went public in a few years, this was the stuff legends were made of. Georgia sighed as her feet slid around painfully inside the boots with each step. She didn’t know if the liquid she could feel squishing was sweat or blood.

  That damn neanderthal Davidson wouldn’t let them sit and rest either. He just kept issuing orders. Oh, she knew he was the mission commander, but the “mission” didn’t seem to be going so well. Besides, wasn’t it his job to fly the plane, not crash it? She knew this wasn’t really fair, and she knew he was the one with all the survival training, but she was tired, and her feet were killing her, and she really didn’t enjoy being bossed around. Ok, well maybe... he did have a nice set of shoulders... she blushed and looked around as if sure someone could read her mind. Ever since the age regression, her hormone levels had reset, and it seemed like all she ever thought about was sex. Which was CRAZY since everyone, including her, smelled repulsive. The only thing positive about this grueling death march the barbarian was insisting on was that he promised that there was a spot where everyone could get a bath. These men didn’t understand that without proper hygiene there were infections us girls could get that in a world without antibiotics... she shuddered even thinking about how long it might take to naturally run its course. It was one of the reasons why oral sex was considered so ‘dirty’ up until about seventy years or so ago. Her eyes went a little wide, and there she was thinking about it again! This really was too much. Power goes out and suddenly she’s being drug on this long march by her hair by some cave man, with his heavy pack on her back like a pack animal. Sweating in the hot sun. All her intelligence and all of her education, and it comes to this. Then to top it all off, no lofty thoughts, just a burning lust to find some savage to rut with. The veneer of civilization on humanity really was thin, and not just for the sexy cave man who’s dragging me through this mess...

  Her thoughts were interrupted when in the shade of a small clump of trees ahead, she could hear the sound of running water! They had found the stream! That meant a rest, and more importantly that meant a BATH!

  On the Move

  Davidson reached the small shaded grove of trees with a sigh. The tan was helping as was the aloe and zinc oxid powder mix from the emergency medical kit he had made everyone smear on their exposed skin before setting out but between the sweat and just the intensity of the sun; he was glad to have everyone under the shade. It had taken him a little more than an hour to reach this spot on his own, but nearly four hours to make it with the entire crew in tow. This might end up taking longer than he had anticipated.

  Walking over, he dipped his hand in the cool stream and drank deeply. Turning to the others when he was done, “Water is clean. I drank from it the other day with
out problems.” he pointed to a small pile of rocks where you could see the water bubbling up. “Spring fed. If you venture further downstream, you’ll want to boil it first. Set up camp here. It’s likely that we’ll be spending at least one night. NO ONE GOES ANYWHERE ALONE! Am I understood?” he waited, and made eye contact with each one to get confirmation before continuing. “If you need to relieve yourself or want a bath, I understand. Take someone to stand guard. They don’t have to stare at you, but they need to be able to glance in your direction if you make any call for help. We know we’re not here alone. Listen to Lt. St. Claire.” Davidson sighed, “I know he looks five, but you all know that he isn’t. He’s had all the survival school training. He knows how to set up camp so that we won’t pollute our water source or expose ourselves to the locals. If he tells you to do it, just do it, there’s a reason. Once it’s done, if you want to learn the reason just ask, I’m sure he’s happy to teach you, it might just save your life one day.” Davidson shrugged off his pack and partially unzipped his flight suit before sitting down. “I’m going to take a few minutes off of my feet, and then if he doesn’t mind, Dr. Gupta, who has had a lot more experience through his charitable foundations in the developing world working with villagers who don’t speak his language, and I are going to make the trek down stream and observe the small village we saw below. Assuming that they aren’t lizard men who would be completely shocked by our appearance or head-hunting cannibals,” he said the last two with a forced grin to belay the real concern that was gnawing at the pit of his stomach, “we’ll try to make contact and initiate some basic trade. After this, we’ll make our way back to you here.” Easing his boots off with a grimace of pain, he slid his raw feet into the cool water of the stream. “I don’t expect we’ll be back tonight. We may not make it back by tomorrow night. However, if you haven’t heard from us by the third night, pull back to the ship, taking as many supplies with you as you can. Do not attempt to come after us, assume natives are hostile and make your plans accordingly. Let’s hope that won’t be an issue. Just the same,” he turned to look at Dr. Godfreed, “If you know anything about building simple survival bows, etc. it might not be a bad idea to make up a couple of them. If nothing else, maybe you can add some meat to the menu. Though until we know the score around here, be careful what you shoot. We wouldn’t want a problem because we inadvertently bagged some farmer’s cattle or poached game from the local nobility. Historically speaking, both were dealt with fairly severely in many cultures around the world. Any questions with the plan?”