Read A Long Time Until Now Online
Authors: Michael Z Williamson
Tags: #fiction, #science fiction, #time travel, #General, #Action & Adventure
A Long Time Until Now (58 page)
Cryder said, “One thiddy fi days.” Damn, they were tall, muscular, perfect specimens. Obviously better fed and exercised.
“In the area? Or did you just pass through now?”
“Yeh, area. Kep low for recon. Finly brainfuct all lone.”
He sympathized.
“I know how that is. Are we going to share food, or do you need something special?”
“We share. Got some flavings.”
“Oh?”
“Sure. Prosser genrate multi flaves.”
Oh, goddamn, that could be awesome. Pepper? Jalapeño? Something?
“That alone is probably worth the linkup. Glad to have you.” He offered a hand.
Cryder nodded and smiled as he shook it. “No prob. You need labor? We do some.”
“Absolutely. Whatever you’re willing to do will help.”
He realized they were clean shaven, too.
Two. The size fit the algorithm they thought they saw. So these guys should be relatively near future and from not far away. Could that explain the garbled English?
But, they had sci-fi gadgets, and hopefully some tools, so perhaps he wouldn’t have to hammer out some more substandard lumps.
“Do you need some kind of lodging? We might have to build another cabin.” They were quickly running out of room and would have to expand the palisade like this.
“We rest in vicle. Noprob.” Cryder extended a hand again, and he shook it. That seemed like a dismissal. Except . . .
It turned into back-patting and borderline hugging. Yeah, he could guess they were short-changed on contact. God knows he was. It got uncomfortable fast, though. Not because it was unwelcome, but because it was unfamiliar.
“That’s enough, please,” he said, and the embrace broke.
“Sorry. Good tsee pipl gain.”
“I know. It is. We’ve gotten unused to touching, though.”
“Nerstand.”
Arnet was more reserved, offering just a hand.
“Do you have any specific food needs?”
Arnet said, “Back home, yeh. Here, nah.”
“Meat, roots, rice and edible leaves are okay?”
“Yeh, yeh, and we add flavr.”
“Sergeants Barker and Caswell handle most of our food.” They had approached, so he introduced them. He noticed Dalton and Ortiz were well back with the M240 and a grenade launcher.
“Wooz. Hi.”
Cryder was a bit less clutchy with Bob, and when he got to Caswell, she raised her hands and said, “I don’t touch.” Her eyes were wide and nervous.
Cryder nodded. “Nerstood. Greeting.”
Good. Caswell looked bothered by more attention, probably because both were male. He did understand her caution. He just thought she dwelled on it overmuch.
“Can we look at your vehicle?” he asked.
“Sure, lemme scure.”
It locked with a keyfob that also dropped the screen that made it invisible.
Uncamouflaged, it was a dull tan-gray that could easily be mistaken for a rock at a distance. It seemed to have a rolling undercarriage, almost like treads but full width of the vehicle, or perhaps that was an air curtain, though it hadn’t blown that much air when moving. It had two seats with space behind for them to recline into couches, which in addition to the tent annex was apparently where they had been, and intended sleeping. Otherwise it was a relatively smooth, approximate ovoid with flattened sides and soft corners. There was space farther back for the apparent power plant and possible cargo. He rapped the shell. It was some form of plastic.
“It’s meant for two people only, then,” he said.
Cryder said, “Yeh. Per pair ishu.”
“Are you military?” They seemed to be in uniform, but he wasn’t sure.
“Simlar. Orders, equip, fighd az need.”
He noted, “You still have motive power.”
“Yeh, seval years.”
“Well, we’ll share if you can. I’m not sure if there’s a compatible trade, though.”
“Haul stuff, mayb.”
“Oh, we could use a salt run to the hills, yes. Possibly rocks for reinforcement.”
“Wooz. Can do.”
“Okay. Is there anything else you need right now?” They seemed to be entirely set, and he wondered why they needed anyone else. It could just be a need for human company, since they were only two and had been here alone five months.
“Designated dumper?”
“Trash or human waste?”
“Human.”
“That building there, or the stream below it, not above. We get cooking and drinking water right here, actually.”
“Wooz.” He nodded. “Wooz” seemed to be their “hooah.”
“Do you need food? We’ll do dinner, evening meal, around eighteen hours, of twenty-four. Clock starts at the middle of the night, approximately.”
“Will join. Wash place?”
“Washing or bathing?”
“Bathing.”
“We’re still working on that. We use the stream here when it’s warm enough, boil water when it’s cold. That hut will eventually have a tub with heated water.” He pointed.
“We can heat some.”
“That’s welcome if it won’t strain your fuel supplies.”
“Run wahder fr long time. No prob.”
Gina was curious about the newcomers and setup, and what they’d have for communication equipment and supplies. That, and she wanted photos.
“Did you say you have running water? Hot water?”
The taller male said, “Hot wa’r? Easy.”
He turned to the vehicle, opened a seamless hatch, pulled out what was obviously a siphon hose, and dropped into the water with a soft splash. The other side of the hatch extruded a nozzle.
“Cold,” he said.
Then another extruded at the rear.
“Hot,” he said as he pointed.
She held her hand underneath and it started flowing automatically. At once she snatched her hand back, scalded. But . . . no, not scalded. It was regular hot water, the kind she hadn’t felt in almost a year.
“I’m tempted to strip naked and shower right now,” she said.
“Go head,” he agreed.
“Uh, I can’t right now, and I’d prefer some privacy.”
“Ah, yeh, yr cultr need priv.”
He touched a panel and a bar extruded. He dragged it out and around in a semicircle and reattached it to the rear. Then he pulled on it somehow and a curtain fell from it.
“Holy shit.” They had a field shower in their vehicle.
She reached in and felt it on her hand again. It was hot, clean water.
“How much is there?” she asked. “Is it an onboard fuel supply? And how long does the power last?”
“No wor,” he said. “Go do.”
That settled it. She reached down and unlaced her boots, stripped out of everything. She stepped through the curtain into a small tract of paradise.
She turned under the water, letting it run all over, relax her muscles and make her feel the cleanest she’d felt since they got here, even without soap. Her feet were in a puddle of mud, and what did it matter? But even that changed texture and became a plastic floor with a bowl, and her feet rinsed clean. That was an amazing feeling.
Reluctantly, she stepped out, shy again. Everyone had gathered.
Caswell tossed her a towel, then said, “Is that all you’re going to take?”
“I thought I was in there for an hour.”
“No, about five minutes.”
“Well, I can always get back in line,” she said, wrapping the towel and tying it at her breasts. She chilled off fast in the fall air, but so what? The shivers added to the sensation of being clean.
It was tragic and amusing how fast everyone else got in line. They didn’t even pay attention to her naked, washed body.
Spencer almost had to shout.
“We’re taking numbers,” he said. “We’ll go from lowest rank up. Everyone else back to work, you won’t be waiting long. Oglesby, get clean.”
Her feet were muddy, but she was clean, really clean, for the first time in two years. How good was the future people’s power supply? Could they manage a shower a month until they had something of their own set up?
With winter coming, that was a distracting idea.
CHAPTER 35
Ramon Ortiz was ready for a hunt. Barker was managing it today, with his bow. The man had gotten pretty damned good with that thing, and he had to admit Barker and Spencer had done a respectable job of making them. It had a heavier draw than he’d ever use, but that did mean an occasional antelope without wasting ammo.
Barker came up, his sleeve wrapped down with leather, quiver on his back with his Camelbak, and bow in hand. The quiver was made from a tube of wolf fur with the head still attached, arrows inserted through the mouth. That was still funny and sick at the same time, even six months later.
One of the future people, Arnet, walked over, as calm as if he did this every day. Certainly more comfortably than Americans did around the others.
“Huntin?”
“Yes.”
“I join?”
Ramon looked at Barker, who said, “Sure, if you wish.”
“What game?”
“Depends on what we see.”
“Fair. Please lead.”
They headed over the bridge and out. Caswell was in the kitchen, and he said, “Caswell, Arnet is coming with us.”
“Roger that,” she agreed, eying the three of them.
He didn’t think Arnet planned to shoot them in the back, but it wasn’t impossible. He deliberately lagged back and took the rear. He had his rifle ready and a knife.
It was interesting how game came and went. Periodically, the herds would get the idea that the soldiers were a threat, and give distance. When that happened, they switched to hunting with rifle. The animals had a threat radius, and rifle was outside that. After a while, they’d get bored or lazy and move back in to bow range. For now, they were moving back out.
Barker said, “Well, we have those saiga over there, or there’s probably deer in the woods down by the river.”
Arnet said, “Warabout aurx?”
“Aurochs? It would take more than one bow. Occasionally the Urushu bring us one they hunted as a group. They took to the fletched javelins I made for them real quick.”
“Want that one?” Arnet asked. He pointed at a young bull a few hundred yards away.
“If your gun can take it, sure. We’ll need help hauling it back.”
“Wooz.”
Arnet raised his . . . thing. It shaped into something like one of the high tech European rifles, and then let out a bang with a hollow hiss, like a silencer. It didn’t seem to recoil much.
The aurochs in question shuddered once, staggered, dropped and twitched.
Barker said, “Headshot.”
He started walking that way.
Arnet said, “Creed, Ani, banged aurx, need lifts, wooz?”
It took a moment to realize he was talking on a radio.
“Arup. Pend. Goo.” Arnet turned and said, “Urushu send lifts.”
Barker asked, “Lifters? Haulers?”
“Yeh, same.”
“Goddam, dude, thanks. Steak for dinner. For several days. Next time we should get a pig.”
“Bacon?”
Ramon said, “Bacon, hell yes, my man. I am so glad you still have it in the future. They’ve learned to like it here.”
The tall man smiled and said, “Real bacon is wooz. Do us. Soon?”
That was something neat to have in common. Bacon. And yes, that helped a lot.
Once at the carcass, he sliced the throat and let the blood go. They got enough from the goats anyway. This thing was huge. He started at the loins and hooked the guts. The hide was thick enough it was a fight. He had to pull and stretch to get a knife under it and rip the belly open.
He was halfway through pulling out ropes of entrails when a half dozen Urushu arrived. He let them take over the dirty work, since they seemed to enjoy it, shouting, singing, hooting and splashing each other with blood. In an hour, it was skinned, sectioned and en route back to the COB.
Trying to keep relations good, he said, “Nice shot, Arnet. Impressive weapon.”
“Tang. Works. Be’r stuff at home. Gah.”
“Gah, indeed.”
They all missed home.
Felix Trinidad took it upon himself to study the newcomers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them. If they’d had designs on enslaving people, and the means to do so, they could have done it. And, there were only two of them. Worst case, a large fire should cook them inside their vehicle, even if they closed up inside it. They’d need oxygen at some point.
It was interesting to watch them, though. They didn’t socialize much, even after the five months they said they’d been here. They showed up for dinner. They helped with occasional chores regarding food or building, but few of the heavy lifting jobs. Of course, they were providing hot water and clean drinking water, filtered through their vehicle. It was hard to demand more of them.
It had only been a week, too. They might acclimate more. But he got the distinct impression they thought of him and the Americans as primitives, the same way he considered the earlier people.
They’d offered more help. They had references on their devices, and the number of edible plants suddenly increased.
Still, he wanted to discuss his findings with the captain.
Elliott was already talking to them, and he approached visibly, in case he wasn’t welcome. The captain waved him over.
“This is Felix Trinidad,” he said.
“Hi, Felix,” Arnet said in reasonably accented English. He was tall but not as broad as Cryder. He wore the same fitted coverall, or one just like the one he’d arrived in, but didn’t act cold in the fall air.
“Hello.” He turned to Elliott. “Sir, I have some numbers to go over when you have time.”
“Sure, in a few. We’re trying to compare some here, actually.”
He paused and waited, and Cryder spoke again.
“It’s hard to spesfy. Power cell inten’ed life is two years stanard use. Replacemen ad one point six, nomnal. When we arrived, fairly fresh ad point four years use. Expec one point six, but safedy marjn of twenny pecent. So two years. Assumes reglar road use. Off road is harder. We’ve driven less. Used power for some heat last winner when we arrived. Solar gives extension, like yours. If it’s only wa’er and some tool use, indefnite.”
“But I assume that’s subject to equipment wearing out?”
“Inevtable, evenchly.”
“Well, we’re very grateful for what you do offer. Your knowledge is even more valuable.”
“Wooz. Keeping scan for tempral effec. Still hope to go back.”
“What do you know about that?”
He shrugged. “Messing about our time. Obvious something fuct. Happens once, can happen again.”
“So you know of a cause?”
“Possible cause. Def involvement and research.”
Felix felt a ripple at that. A good one. Just the fact that someone knew of a possible cause was a relief. And the logic was sound. If it could be done once, it could be done again, assuming they knew what they’d done. Though analyzing the effects would aid that, even if they weren’t sure.
Of course, they’d have to know who went missing, where and when. It was all a tease unless someone actually showed up.
Elliott said, “I’ll let you get on with your tasks, then. If you need help, let us know, and I will schedule that run for salt and other supplies. Thanks.”
“No worries. Wooz, Captain.”
Elliott looked at Felix and inclined his head toward the tepee. They walked over that way, through weeds and across gravel.
“What’s up, Felix?”
“Some observations is all.” He waited until they were behind the tent. “I don’t know if they can hear us here, but they can’t see us at least.”
“Noted. Specific concerns?”
“Not really. They’re remote and almost seem lazy. I’m wondering about their culture, or psychology after five months alone.”
Elliott tilted his head and said, “Well, five months alone with any one of you would drive me bugfuck insane. So that’s possible. I guess it depends on how much interaction they need, though obviously some.”
He said, “They keep looking at their glasses, like they’re playing a game or surfing the net or something. But I think they also have cameras and such in there.”
Elliott nodded. “That makes sense, and they watch us a lot.”
“We watch them a lot. They seem to be as cautious of us as we are of the Romans.”
Elliott replied, “I can see that. Their technology is more sophisticated, and they apparently aren’t quite military. I don’t know how they view the notion of war.”
“They spend most of their time near the vehicle, like we did when we arrived. They seem more dependent on it than we are on ours. They use it for power, water, shelter, entertainment. Other than food, they seem self-contained.”
“You’re right,” Elliott agreed with a squint in that direction, even though the tent was in the way. “I’d seen that but not noticed it. It makes sense they have better tools. The Neoliths weren’t really inconvenienced. The Romans were up to speed in a couple of months. The Indians were too few to really matter. We barely know they exist. We’ve taken over a year and are still building up to what we consider field conditions. They’re only two, and have more tech but no way to exercise enough manpower. I gather they needed someone for companionship and work, just like we have the visiting Urushu. We don’t interact with them as much as they do with each other.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, then that helps me understand how they think.”
“How we think they think, sir.”
“Hooah.” Elliott grinned and shrugged.
