Wine of the Gods 1: Exiles and Gods (4 page)

Fortunately the bang of the rifle frightened the predators, because Chris wasn't sure he'd managed to hit a single one of the long low shapes circling the hospital just beyond the limits of the lights of the cars, trucks and bus surrounding the building. Two of the girls had little handguns. He had the only rifle on the bus, and shooting at moving shadows in the night was different than the target practice he'd managed to get in, over the last two months. Lance climbed up and relieved him, but no matter how wistful the looks, Chris wasn't about to hand the rifle to someone who'd never fired a gun.

"Just yell. I'll be right out." He climbed down and found Milly reorganizing the bus.

"Girls back here by the kitchen, boys up front. Little kids in the middle boys forward, girls back." She wrinkled her nose. "There are eight empty seats, I put them all at the very back, by the bathroom."

"I see. Umm, yeah that tent of mine looks a little impractical, all of a sudden. I guess we'll be sleeping in here for some time." Chris yawned. "I've got to sleep. If anyone sees anything at all that even might be a lion or hyena or leopard or . . . " he broke off as she made a rude gesture. "Well, you'll probably have to kick me to wake me up. But first I'd better clean the rifle." He yawned, and forced himself to get out the cleaning kit.
Suddenly this gun is very important. And I really need to be sure it stays in working order.

His sleep was disturbed by the occasional soun
d of hooves. Half the horses, cattle, and sheep people had brought with them had escaped. It looked like they were getting most of them back, though.

When he finally gave up and got up,
it was midday. The hospital was being dismantled and packed.

Jamie gl
anced over at him. "We're moving a bit west, to where there's a stream, and more trees. We're going to circle up and start building a wall to keep the predators out."

Chris eyed the foursome of cows being trailed by an exhausted horse. He did a quick double take at the rider. He dropped his voice. "Isn't that one of the, you know . . ."

Lillian snorted, behind him. "Naked guys. Gods. Whatever. Yeah. They sort of remember stuff, but they're way screwed up inside their heads. They aren't even sure about their
names
." She tossed her head. "And don't even think about inviting them into the bus. They're grownups, they'll take over. And, well, I suppose being a boy the dangers of strange, mentally unstable men wouldn't occur to you. But don't think you're immune." She tossed her head again and marched off.

Chris sniffed disdainfully. But he fetched his rifle and walked out ahead of both the bus and the RV
that was packed full of hospital. The bus wasn't built for rough country; the bottom of the luggage compartment scraped several times, but they never quite high centered. They even got across the little stream and into a position on the crest of the opposite ridge, as part of the village's temporary wall.

A big fat guy was yelling at everyone, and getting them almost organized.

"Those lions can jump right over most of the cars." Chris had to admire the way they were all, umm, en echelon, so their lights would shine out and cover a considerable area.

"You will sleep in your cars, all the livestock will be inside and loose. They will be running around, and damn near as dangerous as the lions. Stay in your cars unless you have a weapon and can use it." The fat guy put his bullhorn down and accepted a drink from a woman who waved and pointed as she talked.

Inside the bus, a couple of the girls were working the kitchen, and food started circulating. Chris checked that Sea and Sky were eating (of course; the girls had probably fed the little kids first) and then climbed up on top of the bus.

Lance and Mathew were already up there.

"I wish they'd made the roof flat." Chris balanced over to them. The cylinder of the bus was big enough that it wasn't that much of a problem.

Lance grinned. "I wish I had a rifle."

Mathew nodded.

Chris cleared his throat. "I have another, and two shotguns. I just learned how to use them a couple of months ago . . . We could ask someone for lessons, but what if they just take the guns?"

"I hate being a kid." Mathew made a face. "How about you giving us lessons with one rifle and one shotgun, then we’ll look semi-competent when we ask for further lessons. So they can't claim they're taking them for our own good. And if they do take them, they don't get everything."

"Good idea." His attention switched back to the fat man and the argument going on around him.

"I caught them, I ought to at least get something for my work." A man in a Padre's ball cap was glaring from the fat man back to the truck driver asshole.

The truck driver was shaking his head. "They're my cattle.
They're branded with my brand. They're mine. My animals are all I brought with me, and both the horses are dead, and probably the other half of the cows. Thank you very much for catching them, but no, you can't have them."

"Mike, that's the way it's got to be. Property is property. Now, I saw some
local critters that looked like big damn longhorns. As soon as we're safe, we can have a round up. Catch a bunch of heifer calves. Cross them with domestic cattle, and we'll all be set."

The ball cap man tossed his hands in the air and walked away. ". . . risked my life to help that asshole . . . "

Lance snickered. "Boy is he ever bad at making friends."

Chris turned away. "That's not very smart of him, we all . . .
need . . ."

The first of the
"gods" was outside the circle of cars. The big muscular man. All he was wearing was a pair of pants, ugly green scrubs that ended about mid calf. The helmet was gone, his bald head and naked back looked scabby and nasty. He had a military style rifle in his right hand, not ready to fire, even though he was clearly stalking something.

A patch of dappled shade moved, turned into a leopard that clearly didn't like being treated like prey.
It turned to leave, but the bald man made an abrupt gesture with his left hand. The leopard leaped up in the air and came down in two pieces. The head rolled away, and the body twitched and spurted blood.

Chris sat down abruptly, scrambled to not slide off the bus.

"What did he just do?" Lance gawped out at the dead leopard.

"How did he do that?" Mathew's voice
turned gleeful. "Magic. Just like the rumors."

"Telekinesis and teleportation and telepathy and stuff. ESP. It's science, not magic." Lance retorted.

Chris choked faintly. "No. He must have thrown something. There's no such thing as magic, and dressing it up with made-up latin words from a science fiction book doesn't change that. It's not possible." He rolled over and scrambled down the ladder.
All the novels I've read, all the times I wished it was real . . . Don't go wonky, Chris. This is a dangerous place, and you haven't had a good night's sleep for . . . three days? Something like that.

He sat down abruptly
in the long grass. "I have passed through a dimensional gate to a parallel world full of savage beasts. Why am I caviling about magic? I'm in one of my books."

Jamie dropped down beside him. "And you
are talking to yourself. What a night! I . . . helped do stitches in Harry's chest. The real doctor did the ones in his leg, man, that lion came close to killing him! They did kill a couple of people. And there were a bunch of other injuries, too. The hospital is nearly full. We're just lucky the predators mostly went after the livestock."

"Yeah. I didn't think about, well, landing someplace really dangerous."

She nodded. "I remember the vids of the dinosaur planets."

"Yeah. It could have been a lot worse. Stupid company. Did they actually explore here?"

"The company, or the government? Did you know the government threw some of the company executives through the gate and then took over the whole place?"

"The go
vernment?"

"
That's why there were so many soldiers around, on the other side. And maybe the people who were handling the gate didn't know much about the gods. There were some people here, I heard them talking about driving to something they called a beacon, to report that some of the gods came here. I think the gods weren't supposed to come. I think they escaped. What if they really do need them to operate the gate, and we can't go back?"

Chris blink
ed at her. "We never could go back. Ever."

"But we could mail order stuff. Our parents could change their minds and come. They could at least visit us." She was starting to cry, and he wrapped an arm around her and let her bawl into his shoulder for awhile.

It wasn't a bit romantic, like in a book. Her eyes were red and her nose was running, and he didn't have a hanky to offer her. When they started chivvying the cattle and horses into the barricade of cars, he nudged her. "C'mon, we've got to get back to the bus. It's going to be wild in here, tonight."

Chris
didn't remember the leopard until midnight.

It wasn't magic. There's no such thing.

"We need to catch all the lost livestock." Harry scowled at his leg. He could barely walk.
All I can do is talk!
"Before they all get eaten by god knows what."

Romeau perked up. "I know cattle and horses. Damn, I wish
Sungold was old enough to ride." A vertical line creased his brow. “Except I seem to have misplaced him.”

A young man walking by heard him.

"Come on. If we can catch the horses, I'll loan you one. Leo Harding."

"Romeau . . . something. Old Wolf and you know Harry. And Dr. Gisele . . . something. God, I hope our memories return. These holes are disconcerting."

Harry relaxed while Wolf prowled, rifle in hand.

The man
looked quite bad, hairless and scabby. Tall, muscular and dangerous. When he found a leopard, he killed it with that "slice" of his.

That night the predators stayed away. Perhaps they'd cleaned out the local prides and packs. Harry sighed. That probably meant all the surrounding packs and prides would move in.

At dawn Romeau saddled up and rode out again. They needed to find all the loose livestock that had survived two nights out there.

Harry scowled at his leg and
turned to watch Old Wolf, out beyond the circled vehicles.

Waving his hands. Backing away as an entire building slid out of nowhere.

Harry grabbed his crutches and limped up the hill. Stared at the low modern building. "That's redwood, isn't it? From California."

"Yes?" Old Wolf frowned. "I . . . might have gotten it there." He walked up the steps and across the porch. The interior smelled fruity, the first room was large, with barrels racked along one side, tables, wine racks, glasses.

"This is a winery, isn't it?" A young man had followed them in. Boy. Sixteen years old, maybe. Wide-eyed, he looked younger.

"This looks like a tasting room.
I've toured wineries." A young woman stepped in carefully, as if she expected the floor to disappear beneath her feet.

More people
peeked in the door.

They explored, and found rooms with glass and metal vats, presses, bottling equipment. An office and bedroom on one side. A fully automated fabber kitchen on the other. Laundry room, bathroom. Several other rooms, unused. An unfinished attic.

Harry squinted. "What is in those bubble things?"

Wolf frowned, looked
where he was pointing. "I'm not sure." He reached and pinched one.

The black animal startled back, then stopped and looked around.

"Why do I have a horse in my winery?" Wolf looked baffled, but reached out and scratched the animal's neck. "And how am I going to get it out of the attic?"

"He looks like a baby. A big one, mind you." The young woman proffered a tentative hand. "I'm Milly Prentice."

"Old Wolf. That's Harry."

"Chris," the boy put in.

Other introductions circled. The horse was escorted out. It had no problem with the stairs.

They
got some odd looks as the building drew everyone's attention.

Harry eased himself down in one of the chairs on the front porch. He could hear the comments circulating.

"They're gods. Of course they can do magic."

"There's no such thing as magic. It's . . . an odd effect of the genetic engineering."

"They look disgusting."

Harry pried open an eye. "Don't you kids have parents you could go help?"

A general shuffle. Chris got juggled to the front to be the spokeskid. "No. Our parents didn't come with us. The government people split us sudden 'orphans' up into bus loads, with enough of us old enough to drive and sent us through."

"Damn. How many of you are there, and what supplies do you have?"

"Forty-two. We have clothes, hand tools, seeds and a few weeks worth of food. A small fabber and auto-kitchen."

Old Wolf shook his head. "Good thing they stopped making babies five years ago, otherwise there'd be little ones too."

“They stopped making babies?” Harry’s alarm collapsed as the kids started laughing.

“
Genetically engineered
babies.” Chris wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. “That’s why they exiled us. They think we’re all freaks, especially you gods.”

Harry b
it his lip. “There was a . . . gate?”

“To a parallel w
orld.”  Milly waved at the prairie around them.

Yes.
They
were exiled, but how did we four get here? They drove through a gate and we . . . hitch hiked?
Looking over the kids, Harry estimated them from Milly and Chris's upper teens to a blue haired pair that looked about five. "We'll all band together and survive. Walls first. Then cabins."

"A store." Miriam Wilson was a tiny woman, slim and athletic, in the way of girl gymnasts. "I'm starting a list of everything everyone is going to order, when the gate opens again. I'll order a bunch of stuff as well as what we brought."

Harry blinked. "Oh. Right. Once a month all colonies get a connection to Earth, right?"

"Right. That should be in a month
, twenty-six days, actually."

Jack
Otts was big man in every sense. Darker than Harry, nearly as tall and much wider. "That's too soon. I need to get all the livestock owners to register brands before we get any more arguments about who owns which damned cow. Then we need to co-ordinate with all the nearby villages, get an agreement to honor brands. We should get an order out for branding irons as soon as possible." He shrugged. "There's always the month after that. I just don't like the idea of starting with fights over ownership of all these strayed cows."

"Surely we've got a blacksmith around here somewhere." Romeau protested. "We should do as much as possible ourselves."

Miriam nodded. "We need to make things locally; transportation is going to be a problem. The magnetic anchor is at the western-most end of the line. I’ve been talking on the shortwave, getting orders and payment information straight with the lady who has taken charge there. We figured it’s at least a thousand miles, but if there aren’t any major rivers blocking the path, we can probably get in enough of a road and temporary bridges to send trucks for our stuff, the next month. But what about the groups that landed further away? It's going to be a problem, getting stuff to the far east."

"We need a boat." Harry looked north, to the lake. "I wonder if all the lakes are connected."

"I think I have a boat." Old Wolf glanced at his bubble-filled winery.

"The far east and the near east are both on salt water bodies."
Jack shrugged. "When I saw the lions, I thought, Africa, but those fresh water lakes aren't the Mediterranean. From what people have told me on the radio, there's no outlet to the West, just a river on the east end."

Chris
bit his lip and blurted out. "I don't think you gods were supposed to have come. You may need to hide, if a search party comes through, looking for you."

Romeau and Gisele swapped startled looks, and then they both nodded.

"I don't think you'd better plan on that gate." Old Wolf frowned, obviously tried to remember. "I think we may have been a necessary part of the gate mechanism. So when we escaped we may have broken something."

"Broken . . . " Miriam looked at him, wide-eyed. "You mean we won't ever be able to go home? George and I were just going to pioneer for twelve years, until the boys were grown up and established. Then we were going to retire in Vermont. Visit for a month or two around Christmas every year." She looked around at the raw beginnings of a primitive village in horror. "Do you have any idea what old age will be like in a place like this?"

People had been listening, and gathered closer.

"Retirement, nothing. What about childbirth?"

"What about electricity?"

"What if we can't find oil nearby?"

"Are you saying we're stranded here? Forever?"

"What have you done?"

In the back of the small crowd a man snorted. "They're building another trans-dimensional gate in Pennsylvania. Remember? It won't be finished for another two years. But no one is stuck here forever. The next generation of computers will render your live assistance unnecessary."

Harry looked over the intervening heads. The man looked familiar. Oriental. "Chou. You're one of the Chou's aren't you. In accounting or something."

The man glared. "Yeah. Want to make something of it? With luck, once they get the gate up, I can get permission to move to the world that most of the family was exiled to."

"Most . . . Other world?"

"Fried your brain properly, didn't you, Frankenstein? Yeah, they sent all the engineered to five worlds. The family planned on finding a nice one just for themselves, and wound up arrested and shoved through randomly. I was on vacation. By the time I got home, everyone else was gone." He gave a disgusted snort. "Two years."

Harry nodded, vague memories, knowledge without context started surfacing. "There were protocols . . . if you were stranded. Marooned. Fire up the beacon on the solstice
, summer or winter, because that could be found easily enough. They said that the week after was when they'd search for people. Weren't there classes?"

Old Wolf nodded. "Right, how to track the sun and identify the solstice. The beacon needed to be
boosted if possible. Batteries or a generator. They'd start searching on the solstice, and for a week after."

The stolid man stepped
up beside Miriam, nodded. George, her husband. "Well, we'll all just have to get by with what we brought for a couple of years. Not the best situation, but hardly a disaster. And anyway, you could be wrong. Maybe the gate is just fine."

Old Wolf opened his mouth, then shut it.

Harry kept his mouth closed, and didn't say anything about, oh, sabotaging the beacon so they wouldn't wind up wired back into the machines. Leaving the matter alone was the best idea. When the gate opened, it would be time to worry about the personal dangers. Today they had other challenges. "So, getting back to building, which we need to do, with or without a gate, how are we going to build this barricade?"

A man of about thirty nodded. "There are plenty of trees. We need to start cutting
them and ditching to plant the poles."

Wolf walked off to the side of the patio and stared at the ground. Chopped twice with his hand then gestured, as if inviting a guest in. A strip of ground obliged, fl
ew into his face and exploded all over the patio.

The kids
laughed and they all crowded around to see.

Harry estimated the hole three feet deep and twice as long. A foot wide.

The man cleared his throat. "Yes. Just about like that. Perhaps I'd better round up some people with saws. I'm Dave, by the way."

Old Wolf concentrated on the ditching, while the chain saws roared in the forest, and their single harness-trained team of horses hauled the long trunks to the ditch. A
young woman named Muriel had a tractor and started ditching on the other side of the little valley.

Harry
organized the orphans. Then more children gravitated his direction. He put them all to work. They packed the dirt in around the poles, fetched and carried supplies for the other groups, took water to the workers, and in a few hours, sandwiches some women were making. The littlest kids spent most of their time running and playing, making instant friends. The teenagers spent half their time eyeing each other, too socially inept to simply walk up and introduce themselves. Well, not immediately. The groups slowly merged, then new groupings started showing up. The little kids wore out, and Harry parked them in Wolf's tasting room with a movie on the vid screen there. Star Wars, the third remake, his own favorite.
Of all the things to remember clearly.

All day long, riders returned
, herding exhausted cows. Harry spotted Chris trailing after a thin girl to check on some big tame red and white cows. The boy ran off to the bus, and returned with a first aid kit. Ah yes. Kindness to animals. One of the easiest ways to a girl's heart. Although kittens were usually easier than cows. One of them kicked. Chris landed on his butt, while the girl giggled.

The wall lengthened, log by log.

Romeau rode in with a dozen cows. He gave the winery an odd look. He was back in a few minutes, sans animals. He walked to the end of the completed wall and pulled out a building of his own.

"Temple of Love" was engraved over the wide columned front porch. The Grecian style white marble edifice had a full catering kitc
hen, two large open rooms and an ornate apartment in the back.

Harry limped through it all and smothered laughter. "Romeau, this is not a house, this is a wedding chapel. Generic
. It even has a honeymoon suite. Probably rents out with or with-out a generic semi-religious person with a license to perform marriages."

"Me?" Romeau looked doubtful. "To be honest, I don't recall ever sleeping in a round bed." He shrugged and invited everyone to sleep indoors.