Time Siege (23 page)

“You have really good reflexes,” Titus observed, admittedly entertained.

The second honor guard charged in closer and fired his trident as well. Titus's chest puffed up a little. He recognized one of his babies. It was a kinesis spear, one of his later inventions, which could wrap a kinetic field around an object and manipulate it. He watched as the blue field shot out and enveloped the stranger. Then, to his surprise, nothing happened. The field that was supposed to surround the guy just popped like a bubble.

“You must have a defective spear,” Titus commented, his face turning a little red. His mouth dropped when a strange yellow crackle of energy leaped out of the stranger. At first, it looked like the battery trident had malfunctioned and was causing energy feedback, then Titus realized the stranger was surrounded by a nearly translucent field of yellow light.

The kinesis spear exploded in the honor guard's hands, and then the stranger seemed to have somehow teleported, or moved really, really fast, next to the guard. There was a clumsy exchange, and the honor guard flew into the air and slammed into the wall on the far side of the silo.

The remaining guard fired again; this time, his lightning arc hit the stranger square in the chest, but the blue arc harmlessly fragmented into thousands of pieces off the stranger's yellow field. A similar yellow surge followed, and an invisible force struck the honor guard, cracking his chestplate in half. The impact slammed the guard into one of the railings.

The stranger turned to Titus. “I'm sorry that had to happen, Grand Juror. If you do not wish to come with me, I will not force you.”

Titus, a lifelong pacifist, harrumphed. “You young men, always thinking with your dicks and biceps. All right, now you've really piqued my curiosity. If I go with you, what's my guarantee what you're offering is true?”

“Would you like a cyanide pill before we leave? If you change your mind, you are free to still commit suicide.”

Titus looked as the Light Burst began its final sequence. Sixty seconds until they were both burned to a crisp. It was too late to get away and too late to get into the rocket. It was the story of his life, always taking too long to make decisions.

On one hand, that's why he never got his proper due, and why he was only considered the second-best mind of his generation. He was much smarter than Novein, that hack. The only reason Novein always got the credit was because he knew how to work their peers at the Praetorian. He was also always first to market, decisive, and admittedly had better taste. That was why he was ranked first while Titus was always the bridesmaid. Analysis paralysis was what his second wife called it. On the other hand, his careful decision-making had allowed him to live this long. Well, except in this case, where his indecision was going to kill them both.

“Oh, fine,” he grumbled. “Though I flaming think it's too late…”

In a split second, the stranger grabbed Titus and cradled him close to his body. Just as the rocket ignited, the stranger and Titus launched up the tube, as if they had their own invisible rockets strapped to their asses. They shot straight through the launch opening and cleared the planet.

A few minutes later, in the black depths of space, Titus and the stranger watched as a spark of light erupted from Venus's surface, leaving a thin yellow trail. They floated for twenty minutes, watching his coffin disappear toward the sun.

“Like watching my own damn funeral,” Titus grumbled.

“A spectacular event, Grand Juror,” the stranger said.

“Now what? Why are we still floating here? It's making me dizzy. Makes me want to shit my pants. Where are we going next?” He paused. “How are you doing this?”

The stranger smiled for the first time. “Please stand by. We will need to wait until we are cleared to jump back.”

“Go figure. You hurry me up and make me wait. How flaming rude. What do you mean, jump, anyway? Where are we going?”

“To the future.”

Titus wasn't surprised. He had surmised as much when he saw all the stranger's powers. “Holy hell. I knew it! Talk about burying the lead. You know, boy, you should have opened with that line. I'd have hopped in your sack right away if you hadn't beaten around the bush and wasted my time. I look forward to the medical developments that will make my life more bearable.”

“Apologies, Grand Juror, there isn't a cure for old age.”

“Fuck.” Titus paused. “Is the future at least nice? Like a utopian paradise?”

The stranger shook his head. “I hate to disappoint you.”

“Flaming fuck. I might as well have stayed in the rocket, then.”

“Would you like your cyanide pill now or when we get there?”

*   *   *

There was a bright yellow flash. Followed by intense pain. And then nothing. A few seconds later, James woke up to a voice screaming in his head as he stared at the abandoned Venusian colonies against the planet's angry red landscape. His skin burned from the intense heat of the sun, yet at the same time, he felt a bone-shaking chill spread through his body. He looked to his left and saw Titus floating next to him.

The old man's skin was rigid, and he had a look of panic frozen on his face. It was then James realized that he had fallen unconscious and that the atmos was off. Quickly, he willed it back on and enveloped both of them, raising the temperatures and pumping air into their protective bubble.

“For space's sake, James, answer me, damn it!”

“I'm here, Grace,” he thought back.

“You goddamned flat-lined when you jumped back,” she said.

“How long was I out?”

“Just a few seconds. Hang on. We're picking you up.”

James checked Titus's pulse; at least the old man was still breathing, though his pulse was weak. He was lucky. The Grand Juror probably would not have survived much longer. James took a deep breath and promptly threw up. A splitting pain erupted in his head, pounding him like a hammer on a melon, threatening to splatter the contents of his brain next to the contents of his stomach. He hunched over and watched as the bile floated away and congealed on the wall of the perfect sphere surrounding him and Elise's newest recruit.

He could really use a drink. He remembered he had snuck a small flask of whiskey from the Drink Anomaly on board while packing the ship. It wasn't much, but it was something, especially since that last jump seemed to have twisted his insides something fierce.

In the distance, he saw a small two-color spark approach. Then he looked down at his wet shirt and the contents of his lunch floating inside his atmos shield. How embarrassing. At least the wait for his ride wouldn't be too long. He was fortunate that Grace had taken precautions and had outfitted him with an emergency life support band on the chance that this might occurr, which of course it did. Otherwise, both he and Titus would be dead right now. She would never have let him live it down.

The pink was coming back to Titus's old crackly face, and he seemed to be breathing normally again. He was curled up in a fetal position, as if encapsulated in a womb and rotating like a planet without a care in the world. He was even starting to snore in the otherwise dead of space. It was almost cute.

The past hour had been traumatic for the old man, and he had complained and corrected James every step of the way until nap time. James already knew he was going to be a handful. That was the problem with gathering some of the greatest minds in one place. You also ended up with the biggest egos, and every one of them was used to being in charge. Well, Titus was Elise and Grace's headache now. They wanted a master inventor and fabricator, they got one. As long as he was a good enough doctor for Sasha, James couldn't care less about the rest.

“How's the old geezer doing?” Grace asked as the bulky transport came to a stop alongside him.

“Still alive, if that's what you're asking,” he said, maneuvering to the rear hatch and floating inside.

“Take him to the bunk,” Grace told Levin. Then she walked up to James and checked his vitals. “That's it, James. Never again. Next time you jump, you will die,” she snapped. “You were already playing against the house on this one. You will not make it back, and then you'll be useless to all of us. Promise me on Elise's and Sasha's life.”

He nodded. “This is it.”

“Get some rest. I want to observe your life signs for a few hours.”

“I need to pilot the ship back to Earth.”

“That wasn't a request. Levin can take care of that.”

James nodded and stumbled into the crew quarters. He was met by Smitt's ghost, who whistled as he looked at the unconscious Titus. “What the heck, right? Once you break the one Time Law no one dares breaks, who cares if you break it a few more times, right?”

James tried to ignore him. At least he was only being haunted by someone who was actually dead now, unlike Sasha and Grace.

“Come on, my friend.” Smitt grinned. “The past is already dead. A person cannot simply un-die.”

“Don't you have anything better to do?” he grumbled.

“You'd think so,” Smitt replied.

“Your brain patterns are spiking, James. I told you to get some rest,” Grace spoke inside his head through his comm band. “Are you talking to your phantoms again?”

“Just one.” James hadn't told her about Smitt yet. He wasn't sure he should. This one felt different. He went into the back room and lay down on one of the lower bunks. His body hurt all over. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he remembered the flask of whiskey hidden in the storage locker. It called to him. For a second, passing out felt like the better plan. Instead, James dragged his exhausted body out of bed and snuck next door.

 

TWENTY-TWO

A
DMINISTRATIVE
T
ASKS

The Co-op completed the takeover of another building, a large 133-story high-rise with twenty-three bridges connecting to adjacent buildings along 125th Street. The building served as a central hub to many of the other blocks in the Harlem region of the island. By the hounds' estimations, there were nearly four thousand inhabitants in just that building alone. The density of savages was increasing, but Kuo's forces had become more efficient, more adept at capturing and subjugating. Already, they had conquered a quarter of the island, encountering hardly any resistance as they steadily moved down its length.

Kuo, standing on the 114th floor on the south end of the building, looked down at a large jungle clearing a few blocks to the south. The haze was light this morning, allowing several hundred meters of visibility. The EMP fog had proven more problematic than she had anticipated. With limited numbers and no modern means of communication, her forces initially had problems maintaining their control over many of the blocks they had taken over. Sometimes, as little as two days after her troopers had cleared an entire building, another savage tribe would wander in, forcing her people to reclear it. There was simply too much area, horizontally and vertically, for the resources she had at hand.

Kuo found the solution to this problem in leveraging the thousands of savages they had captured. Uprooted from their homes with no place to stay, these doe-eyed primitives seemed to have lost all hope and direction. She was doing them a service by offering employment as indentured servants. In her eyes, she was elevating these wallowing primitives to civilized standards.

It hadn't taken much to convert them. Kill a few to instill fear among the rabble. Find someone with a semblance of authority who could keep them in line. Relay your commands and make sure they were followed. If any of the savages acted up, kill a few more. Then you fed them. Within a few days, all of the defeated tribes had fallen in step with the new order.

In the case of the Northwoods, Ewa had had to kill over a dozen of their leaders before she found someone who agreed to follow orders and keep the rest of them in line. In the weeks since, the Co-op had steadily increased its presence, taking over building after building. It had now indentured over a hundred savage tribes. Some were as small as twenty while others numbered nearly a thousand. With these additions, the Co-op was able to stabilize its holdings and make steady gains as Kuo's forces gobbled up block after block of the Mist Isle.

The original plan was to assign the stronger of the savages to menial labor, use the children as couriers, and to put the weak and old on watch. The last group was strategically placed at every building entrance and intersections dividing the blocks already conquered and the ones the Co-op hadn't cleared yet. If there was any disturbance, those on watch would tell the children, who would run and report it to a nearby monitor outpost. This setup was primitive, but it should have worked if everyone had done their job.

The first week of managing this system, however, had been a disaster. Her operations suffered from these savages' poor work ethic. They had no sense of responsibility or employment. Many times, her people caught them shirking their duties, sleeping on the job, or even wandering off from their posts. Usually, Kuo wouldn't have tolerated such insubordination, but as much as she hated to admit it, she needed them. She needed twice the number she had now to hold the line across the entire island as they continued south. Her reinforcements weren't enough.

Kuo blamed herself for this oversight. The savages didn't know better. They had descended from generations of takers and leeches and wanted the welfare—shelter and food—but didn't want to work for it. All this required the monitors and troopers to vigilantly manage the savages, which defeated the purpose of having indentured servants to begin with.

It took her a few days to come up with a solution. She found it in the past, after studying the economic models of the Neptune Divinities and even further back in a tiny totalitarian regime known as North Korea. It was a sound short-term strategy that would pay dividends.