Plaguelands (Slayers Book 1) (7 page)

BOOK: Plaguelands (Slayers Book 1)
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The boat ride back to the capital was a silent affair. Alistair barely spoke a word to me, probably embarrassed about the situation in Ebenezer’s office—or possibly upset with me that I hadn’t complied with the old man’s wishes.

As he wheeled the boat to the dock in the capital, I jumped ashore and he handed me my bag.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said politely. “It was nice meeting you.”

Alistair smirked, “No, kid: you never met me.” He threw the boat into gear and raced away toward the grey horizon.

EPIC TRAVEL

I crept through the freight yard, picking my way between the shiny metal mag-lev trains. When in operation, they hovered a meter above the track, giving a smooth and seamless ride at over four hundred kilometers per hour. When powered down, the trains simply rested on the track.

Giant forklifts and towering cranes hoisted metal crates into the waiting cargo holds of the trains, destined for destinations across the western hemisphere. Most of the population of the Cascadia Republic is centered on the capital, but there are resource and research outposts as far north as the Arctic Ocean and as far south as Patagonia. Also, equipment and bulk commodities are sent as far south as New Guayaquil where they are shipped to the space elevator for export to other planets. The capital freight yard is the largest hub for all human commerce on the planet.

I picked my way among the loading docks until I found a blinking marquee indicating that a particular train was bound for Yellowstone. I found an open cargo door and jumped inside the car. I climbed through the dark and crawled between some crates marked
Research Supplies
to find a cozy and isolated hiding spot. I lay down my backpack and used it as a pillow. The door closed a few minutes after I found my spot, and the interior became completely darkened.

After an hour or so, I heard the humming of the track being energized. The train slowly and imperceptibly lifted off the ground, then began creeping forward. It took five or so minutes for the train to depart the freight yard, and then it rocketed to full speed in only a few seconds. The gentle hum of the train soothed me and I fell asleep on my backpack, expecting to wake up in Yellowstone.

The train decelerated from its top speed and the change in G-forces awoke me from my nap. My watch showed that only an hour or so had elapsed since our departure.

The darkened freight car had no windows, so I couldn’t see what was going on outside. I fumbled for my headlamp in my backpack and, switching it on, I found an emergency door release latch. I contemplated pulling it open, but then feared I might set off some type of alarm. I waited with my hand on the latch for a few minutes, then decided to pull it open. The door slid open a few centimeters and I jumped outside, closing the door quickly.

It was bright and sunny in a way that I hadn’t seen in a very long time. The earth was brown and covered by sparse grasses. Some mountains rose high in the west. I could only assume I was now on the east flank of the Cascades.

“Goddamned power flux,” I heard a voice yell.

I dropped to the ground and crouched against the side of the train. I peered around and didn’t see anything. The train operators were likely on the opposite side of the train. Since the track was powered down, they couldn’t see under the freight car.

“Control says they’ll have the grid reenergized in just over two hours,” another voice grumbled. “We’ll just have to hang out here for a bit in the sun.”

“At least we’re not in the Plaguelands,” the first voice stated. “Better here than there.”

“Ellensburg isn’t much better than the Plaguelands,” voice two replied.

“The women here aren’t as attractive as the plague fiends,” voice one chuckled. “Tired, old hags.”

Both laughed.

I crept around the train until I reached a break between the cars. I poked my head through and saw the operators heading back to the front of the train. In front of me, just a few hundred meters away, was a town.

The townspeople were staring through their windows at the stalled train. I didn’t even know there
were
towns on the east flank of the mountains until my father and Ebenezer had recently told me of their existence. Our geography courses focused on our place in a giant galaxy, not on the tiny villages over the mountains inhabited by the rejects of the medical procedures.

Curiosity got the best of me. Confident that the operators were safely aboard the front car, I bolted for the village. I looked at my watch as I ran. 13:40 hours. I could be back aboard in a half-hour and still make my destination. I closed the distance between the train and the buildings and hid around the corner of one, out of sight of the train.

Two older women were eyeballing me curiously from the sidewalk. I looked at them and smiled weakly.

“Uh, hi?”

One of them waved gently, with a confused look on her face.

“What are you doing here, kiddo?”

“Um, I’m hitchhiking to Yellowstone,” I replied meekly.

“But the trains are free….” she trailed off, now with even more confusion.

“They can’t know I’m riding the train,” I whispered. “This is a secret trip.”

“Are you in trouble?” the other lady asked.

“No, no, no,” I said. “I promise, I’m not. I just have to get to the Preserve without them knowing. Please don’t turn me in.”

“You’re sweating,” the second lady noted. “You’re a real boy.”

“We’re not going to turn you in,” the first lady said. “We’re not exactly on the best terms with the Republic, if you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know until the other day that communities even existed on this side of the mountains,” I said.

The two old ladies looked at each other and didn’t say a word before looking back to me.

“I’m Athena,” she said, smiling. “This is Hera. Welcome to Ellensburg.”

“I’m Pax.”

“We don’t see too many young people,” Hera said. “We can’t breed, of course, just like you can’t.”

“Why don’t you come inside and have some tea?” Hera asked, motioning me to the door.

I entered the building and they closed the door behind me. The house was sparsely furnished but clean. Old, but with modern lines. Hera went into the kitchen just off the sitting area.

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Oh I’ve been here for, let’s see, fifty-three years,” Athena said. “And you, Hera?”

“Sixty,” Hera answered quietly, returning with cups of tea. “Sixty this year.”

“We couldn’t undergo the surgery to achieve the enhanced form,” Athena said. “After a few years of being treated like a zombie, we just left. We found a support network for rejects and ended up here.”

I sipped my tea, which tasted earthy and bitter. “How many people are here?”

“About seventy or so live here,” Athena stated, “but there are a dozen such communities across the Eastern Flank, as far south as Burns.”

“What about Tahoe?” Hera corrected.

They politely argued for a few seconds before agreeing that there were no more Outcast communities south of Burns.

“We all worked hard in the gravel quarries and mines and whatever until we reached the age of sixty-five,” Athena recalled, “at which time we were allowed to retire. Enhanced forms don’t need to retire, but our human bones just don’t work the same way anymore after decades of hard labor.”

Hera slurped her tea. “The Republic keeps us fed and watered in exchange for staying out of the way. Fewer children these days are pre-rejected for the surgery so our population has dwindled from the few hundred it used to be. Eventually we know there won’t be any of us left.”

“So you, Pax, why
are
you all the way out here?” Hera asked.

I briefly explained my story. The old women looked all misty-eyed and Hera even sniffled a bit.

“That’s beautiful that you love your friend so much,” Athena cooed.

I wanted to change the subject and learn more about life in this town before I had to run back to the train. “When did you get your last new resident?”

Athena looked puzzled. “About fifteen years ago, Hera?”

“Yes, about that long, Athena,” Hera stated.

“Do you stay in contact with the other communities?” I asked.

“Oh, occasionally,” Athena said. “We have an administrator who contacts the capital if we have any major needs. He also contacts any other reject communities to share resources and labor. Some of our villages are older and much more…uh…retired.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call yourselves ‘rejects’,” I said softly. “You’re both wonderful.”

“You’re a sweet boy,” Hera laughed. “But we’re old and no one wants us, so we’re forced to live out-of-sight and out-of-mind.”

“You’re not
forced
to live out here,” I countered. “It’s just easier to live among people of your own kind. I get it. Now can you show me your town before I have to run?”

Athena smiled and took my hand, leading me back out into the sunlight. There were about thirty or so buildings, including a clinic, a library, a city hall, and a few dozen homes. It wasn’t a particularly beautiful place—in fact it was rather dusty and dirty—but it wasn’t the exile that Ebenezer had me believe existed here.

After meeting a few more people and hearing a few more stories from the aging population of the community, I looked down at my watch. I had less than ten minutes to get to the train. I bid them farewell and started running toward the track when I heard the hum of it powering up—earlier than I’d anticipated. I felt my stomach leap into my neck and then plunge into my feet. All of my gear was aboard. I had to get back or I was stuck here with no equipment and no way to get home, or to the Preserve.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Athena and Hera holding hands, waving with their free hands. I faced forward and kept running. The train was now fully elevated on the track and starting to move forward. My lungs burned as I pushed myself to the limit. My feet buckled on the dirty, rocky ground. I kept running straight at the train even though it was moving faster and faster. I started running alongside, groping for something to hold on to.

The train kept accelerating and I reached up, trying to pull myself aboard. My hand banged painfully against the metal, groping for any surface, when finally my hand wrapped around an extended handrail. I was yanked off the ground, and swung my other hand up to reach the bar. My legs were hanging in the air behind me as the train accelerated ever faster. It was frightening, but exhilarating at the same time.

Once the train reached full speed and stopped speeding up, I crawled my way forward until I got to the car I’d occupied previously. I pulled the door release and the cargo door slid open rapidly. I dove into the freight car as the train started slowing down again—presumably as the result of some door sensor shutting down the train—but as soon as I closed the heavy cargo door, it accelerated again.

I was exhausted. I curled up on my bag and fell fast asleep.

MISSION QUEUE

The train came to a halt and the door automatically opened. I hadn’t been back to the Preserve for many years, and when I slid out of the freight car into the frigid autumn air, I almost didn’t recognize the place. There were new labs and buildings interspersed with huge satellite dishes and radio towers. The tiny little trees I had planted during my first summer with Semper had grown to immense proportions; the Yellowstone Lab was experimenting with genetic engineering and terraforming techniques to help speed up the process of cultivating life on other planets.

Interestingly enough, now I realized that the entire process of making planets “habitable” —cleaning the air and growing food—was all for the children. Adults didn’t need those things. Their enhanced forms were almost invulnerable to toxins and noxious environments, and to heat waves or cold snaps. Their bodies had been designed as a response to an unstable world with collapsing ecosystems and climate. The next stage of evolution was one of unnatural selection: intelligent and willful design. For a brief moment, I wondered if children were actually holding back the species.

I heard one of the operators say, “I’m gonna check the door latches on 37B. The computer says it opened twice in transit.”

I bolted for the cover of the nearest building, with my backpack bouncing on my shoulders. I reasoned that sneaking around would look suspicious and would probably result in getting caught, so I walked around like I owned the place. I didn’t know where Semper was, however. I knew he liked hanging out in the geothermal power station when we were kids, so maybe I’d head there first.

Enhanced forms really don’t have to carry food or extra clothes or tents—they could sleep out in the open air without getting cold or bitten by insects and they’d never get hungry. My backpack was entirely too full of camping gear, so I definitely stood out as a child instead of as an adult while walking around. After a dozen or so passersby asked if I needed help, I decided to ditch my bag behind one of the buildings.

I wandered the main outpost of the Preserve. It was an ancient set of restored buildings on the shores of Yellowstone Lake, reminiscent of the original lodges that tourists had once stayed in. The village was humming with activity. Large track-wheeled ground transports arrived and departed carrying freight and passengers to the various research sites. The occasional hovercraft would buzz overhead. Monstrous instrument towers reached to the sky and deep into the Earth. A giant electrified fence encircled the compound. Darius turbines spun, generating wind power, but the primary power source came from beneath my feet, and the active volcano of the Yellowstone Caldera. A massive geothermal station sat on the shore of the lake just south of my location, and power lines from the station now reached all the way to the capital and the rest of the Republic. Clearly the site was much more than just a research station now, although the large animal pens and biolabs still held importance among the bustling village.

I had hoped to find Semper hanging around in town, and the few people I asked said they hadn’t seen him. For the better part of the morning, I checked out our old haunts and even ventured as far as the power station trying to find him, but to no avail. That night, I checked in at the café, a small dining room for the few human visitors they received here. A couple of children lived at the Preserve with their researcher parents, and a few were always present for a fellowship or study program, so real food was a necessity.

It was in the café—speaking with a scrawny thirteen-year-old girl named Hathor—where I got my first clue. She told me she had seen Semper two days ago while hiking near the old Canyon Village camp. He had asked her to scrounge up an energy pack for him as he was starting to feel weak. The petite blonde had done so, without question, and Semper was as good as new within a few hours. Hathor told me I could probably still find him there.

It was nearly nightfall, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep until I found him, so I grabbed my bag and headed north along the highway. I walked in the brush and trees adjacent to the road as not to be seen by one of the returning ground transports. I kept my headlamp pointed downward and flicked it off whenever I heard a vehicle nearby. If they’d been looking for me, they’d have found me, but I didn’t need to draw attention to myself and all the questions they would have for why a child was wandering the woods alone. Being out here wasn’t illegal—just suspicious.

Several hours passed. It was only thirty or so kilometers to the old Canyon Lodge but my constant stops and starts through the brush and dodging vehicle headlights had slowed me down substantially. I left the forested area along the river as it opened up into a wide prairie and rolling hills spotted with bison in the distance. The moon was tucked behind some clouds, but there was enough light to see without my lamp, if I needed to switch it off again. I checked my position on my GPS-enabled digibook and found I had only a few kilometers to go.

It was then that I heard a branch crack behind me. I turned and saw nothing, but then heard another rustle to my left. Nothing there either. I thought I was imagining things until I saw the pointy ears of a dog-like animal sticking out above a large stand of sagebrush. I hoped it was a coyote, or maybe even a lone wolf. I wasn’t that lucky: a second later another head popped up from the bushes. Then another. Soon, there were a dozen hungry sets of eerily glowing eyes reflecting the light of my headlamp.

I was panicked. If I could activate my P.O.I.N.T. beacon, someone from the outpost could be at my position in just a few minutes for a rescue. I might not have enough time. I needed to find a weapon. Anything would do. Without the forest, there were no tree branches. Maybe I could find a rock.

I crouched slowly and felt along the ground for a stone. My fingers grasped one and pulled it free from the dirt. I hurled it in the direction of the first wolf and it crashed harmlessly next to him.

“Go on! Get out of here! Shoo!” I yelled.

But they just circled closer, licking their chops. I flung another rock and actually hit one of the canids; it ran away yelping for a few seconds, but rejoined his pack after the shock had worn off.

I reached down to pick up another rock and only looked down for a second when the closest wolf lunged at me. He closed the distance in only a few seconds and had his teeth sunk into my backpack and started shaking. His weight knocked me over and I started screaming.

The rest of the pack charged, howling and snarling as they dove in. Time seemed to stop. Everything disappeared. I was back home, in my back yard, playing with Adara and Semper. I knew my mind was trying to protect me from the carnage of being eaten alive. I frantically reached out to find my digibook to activate the beacon. At least my parents would know what happened to me.

Then out of nowhere, the wolf chewing on my backpack was flung off of me, and it crashed in the bushes fifty meters away, yelping. The rest of the pack was now snarling and yelping and crashing about. I couldn’t see much of what was happening without my headlamp, which had fallen off somewhere during the fray.

After another minute of howls and yelps and barks, the pack was in full retreat. I was too scared to roll over, but when I did…there stood Semper.

The synthetic skin of his forearms was ripped from the battle with the wolf pack. He was dirty and emotionless. But he stuck out his hand and helped me up without saying a word.

I brushed myself off and picked up my headlamp.

“Thank you,” I said to him.

“You’re welcome, Pax,” Semper replied.

“You were…so fast….” I said, still stunned by the ferocity of the wolves and the savagery of Semper’s counterattack.

“It’s this body,” he grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help you,” I coughed.

“Help with what, Pax?”

“I can disable your neural web. That buzzing in your head. It’s them trying to contact you. It’s them tracking you. It’s your connection to them.”

I withdrew the device Henry had fashioned for me and turned it on.

The machine buzzed and whirred for a second like a computer booting up. I instantly saw relief in Semper’s eyes. He relaxed, almost to the point of falling over.

“Oh, that is so much better,” he moaned “That sound was driving me nuts. I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t been able to shut down in two weeks since I ran away.”

“What have you been doing out here?” I asked.

“Just trying to find some peace,” he replied. “I’m not sure I can go back there. Not after what they’ve done to me.”

Semper sat down on a rock and looked at me.

“They lied about everything,” he glared. “Why should I want to be a part of that society anymore?”

“They were doing it to protect our way of life,” I reasoned, echoing President Sandstrom’s words. “They need to keep our society moving; that doesn’t involve a biological aging and dying process.”

“But it’s not a choice if they don’t tell you the truth!” Semper yelled.

I couldn’t argue with him. We sat in silence for a while—me staring at him while he poked at the ground with a stick.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I dunno, Pax,” he grumbled. “Probably just stay out here in the woods. I like it here. I’ve always liked it here.”

“Why not just finish the process and then move back here? Really, Semper. You can work at the Preserve like you’ve always wanted.”

He groaned. “I want nothing…
nothing
…to do with them. They took everything beautiful and real away from me. This is like living in a video game. These aren’t my eyes, they’re cameras. This isn’t my nose, it’s a sensor. I have microphones where my ears used to be. I have pumps where my guts used to be. This is all fake. I’m not real. Say what you want about the zombies but at least they’re still flesh and blood.”

There was nothing I could say or do. I had hoped to find my friend and save him, but he didn’t want to be saved. I looked up at the starlit sky and let countless minutes pass until he broke the silence.

“I’m staying in the ruins of some old park lodge,” he said. “They’re not great but they keep the rain and dew off. Not too far from here. You’ve had a rough night. Let’s get going.”

I brushed the dust off my pants and heaved my bag over my shoulders, following him into the darkness.

We trudged along through the woods, his very heavy steps splintering the brush and branches underfoot. He led us through the dark without needing a flashlight, my headlamp actually making it harder for him to see.

After another few kilometers, we found our way to the ruins of the old Canyon Lodge hotel and visitor center, from the days when Yellowstone had been a National Park in the time of the old republic. The roof was collapsed in a few places and the walls were charred with the scars of the rampant wildfires that had scoured the ancient park. He pushed aside one of the heavy doors and tromped inside.

It stank of mildew and animal feces. I thought for a moment about the threat that hanta virus and plague posed in these kinds of spaces.

“Semper, I can’t stay in here,” I whispered, fearing discovery by some unknown entity. “What about the Plague?”

Semper sniffed the air.

“There’s nothing in here,” he said quietly. “I could tell if there was.”

“How do you know what plague smells like?” I retorted.

“I know everything there is to know. In addition to the neural web communications system, I have an uplink to the Central Library. I can access anything that’s ever been written or catalogued.”

I was astounded.

“Wow, Semper. That sounds incredible. You know everything that our entire species knows. It’s a true hive mind. That’s just
amazing
.”

“It takes all the fun out of life,” he glowered. “There’s no more wonder and no more curiosity. Instant gratification is miserable.”

We stepped inside and strode through the remains of an old cafeteria. Most of the windows were shattered or blown out entirely. We crunched over broken glass and past overturned tables.

“I wish there was food,” I said aloud.

“I wish I could eat,” Semper immediately countered.

He led me through the kitchen to an office in the back which was dark, but surprisingly clean and smelled less disgusting. There was a thin, dirty mattress along one wall, and the rest of the office furniture was piled up in the opposing corner. Some words were carved into the wall, but I couldn’t make them out.

“I’ve been staying in here for a few days,” he stated. “The animals can’t get in here, so it stinks less.”

He motioned to the mattress. “You can sleep there. I can shut down anywhere, and in any position, so I don’t really
need
a bed.”

“No, Semper, it’s okay,” I protested.

“Seriously, dude. It’s fine. Get some sleep. I’m shutting down over here.”

He moved over to the corner and slumped against the wall. He closed his eyes and said, “I’m on standby. I’ll be awake in an instant if you need me.”

I curled up on the dirty mattress, turned out my headlamp, and closed my eyes. I don’t even remember falling asleep, I was so exhausted. The last thing I remember was thinking how cool it would be to have access to all of the knowledge of mankind. Omniscience. Once upon a time, our species gave that imaginary ability to gods and immortals. All I had to do was undergo the procedure and I would be in the company of Zeus and Jupiter and all the gods that the minds of men had ever dreamed up: the embodiment of what men always wished they could become.

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