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CHAPTER 17

Sean Elliott watched the recoverees adapt back to twenty-first-century Army life. Some aspects moved quickly, others would take a long time, and some would be lifetime scars. For now, they were fit, healthy, in uniform, and enjoying the fine luxuries most people took for granted, like toilet paper, predictable food, and sweet things. Also not being infested with parasites, and comfortable beds to sleep in.

He had one troop detained, who had gone native in a bad way. One who was going to have to be dissuaded from trying to talk to lawyers and newspapers. One with an admittedly very cute kid who was going to complicate things, and a stack of other issues.

The kid was cute, and he was glad they could take her back. No doubt she would have fit in here, but if she had the facilities the future offered, she should take it.

He wished he had more downtime, but everything here kept throwing more duties at him. They had to recover those abandoned artifacts, and the ones at the village, account for the interpreter’s remains, and deal with two troops who were very reluctant to reintegrate, and who would be pains in the ass the entire way back and then some. On a personal level, the risk of them shrieking to the press back home and looking like deranged fools also led to the possibility that some investigator or other would determine some elements of the truth, and that could fuck up society and, more vitally, Sean Elliott.

Still, he had to take them back and let others deal with that.

The first thing was probably the stuff in the village. The locals were angry enough already. If they got over that and then got raided, it would be worse. If they were hit hard enough now, and became convinced this element of future people were magic or demons or just impossible to mess with, it might help. It certainly wouldn’t be as bad as a second round of betrayal later.

He’d write up a FRAGORDER, even though it would be destroyed later, because the formula was how he was trained, and it was good to stay in practice and not get out of the Army’s habits.

An hour later he had what he needed, and called formation. He included all his element, Arnet, Shug, and Specialist Hamilton.

Once everyone was in the HQ, he asked, “Arnet, can you secure us against observation or listeners?”

The man nodded. “Yes, done.”

“Thank you. I’ve drawn up a plan, subject to revision, on recovering the known artifacts in the village. We will conduct a raid, secure them, ID them as best we can, and then decide if a further action is needed.

“If the Guardians can assist with reconnaissance, I want to locate what items we can on the approach, to make it fast.”

“Sir, why not wait until we have as many items as possible in camp to minimize that?”

He shook his head. “We don’t have time. Between troublesome troops, a child, another stash to deal with, and we still need to find Shug’s village, we have to get it done fast. If we’re clear in a week and my only problem after that is keeping you guys busy, that’s optimal. I can’t assume that, though.”

“Hooah.”

“The raid will be Arnet, myself, Sergeant Dalton, Sergeant Caswell to deal with females. Dr. Raven for analysis, tracking, photos, intel and science stuff, and remember she’s a bit slow.”

“Not just a little slow. I have a gimp leg.” She pointed at the ankle.

“Right. Sergeant Oglesby to translate if we must. Shug because he can hopefully guide us on cultural stuff. Hamilton is here to advise on the village, and sorry, soldier, you’ll need to be monitored and kept secure until after we return.”

The man slumped his shoulders. He understood his status.

He muttered, “I’ll do what I can.”

“Please note you’re the one we trust most.”

“I appreciate that,” he replied, his tone making it clear he didn’t appreciate it much.

“We’re not taking Doc or any of the recoverees?”

“No. I’d like Doc, but I need two people here, and one scientist here. Cryder is holding their element’s end. They’ll be ready to stun anyone they need to for compliance.”

Raven said, “I’m a biologist, I know my way around anatomy, and I’ve done vet surgery on my family’s ranch. If anything gets through or past the fabric, I should be able to keep you alive until Doc can help.”

“Right. And we’ll have drone escort the whole way, with instant commo linkage.”

“Good.”

“So, Specialist Hamilton, in your opinion, what is the best way to get them to relinquish that property?”

“I really don’t know, sir. They’d want a lot of valuables in trade. Much stuff. Probably women, too. Argarak would probably like Dr. Raven. He likes fat women.”

She snapped, “The answer is no, and thanks, I’m aware of my weight.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” he said at once. “I didn’t mean…I meant, he likes…”

Her response was viper-like. “I’m versed in the culture of this type of society, I know what you meant underneath what you said. But I will burn the village to the fucking ground before one of them lays a hand on me.”

Sean rephrased, “Let me simplify the question, Hamilton. Can we do this peacefully, or do we need to stun the whole village, search for what we need, recover it, and then possibly go back for a second round when hunters return?”

“That’s probably the only way to do it, sir. I forgot you can just stun them.”

“Okay. Attack in force it is. Looking at the terrain, if we detour around there, we can walk down the riverbank. That’s stealthier. Arnet, how long can you set the stun for?”

“Reliably, about an hour. Beyond that risks death.”

He asked, “Roger. Can you summarize how these work so I understand the mechanism?”

“The discharge creates an ionic path, and then electricy flows through it.”

Raven said, “Oh, an Air Taser. Those exist now. Our now.”

“I expect ours have more range.” Arnet grinned.

“I hope so.” She grinned back.

Hamilton said, “I need to learn how to use that. Familiarization at least.”

“You will not be armed, Specialist. Sorry.”

“Oh. I understand, sir.” He seemed embarrassed, again made aware of his status.

“Recovered POWs, which you effectively are, have a status in limbo until properly debriefed. We are not equipped for that. Though if it does come to life or death, you will have access to some spears and we may have a spare firearm.”

“Hooah, sir.” That seemed to mollify him a little.

Shug’s demeanor made it clear he knew he was involved, but not to what extent until Hamilton translated with Oglesby helping with concepts and making sure Hamilton was honest. He had been all along, but Sean was taking no chances.

Hamilton reported, “He says he can help describe things and look, but he wants to make sure they won’t be hurt. He’s very nervous, since these are distant cousins.”

“They will be made to sleep only, and will wake up. Our gods insist we have to take our items home, even if they were given as gifts in good faith. We’ll make sure they are given other items of value in exchange.”

“Hooah, sir. I’ll tell him.”

Shug was agreeable to helping, but not thrilled. His presentation was that if his hosts insisted, he’d come along. Sean made a note to find a way to make it up to the kid.

With a small, organized group it took about an hour to get everyone geared up and ready. By then, Cryder had aerial photos and an interactive 3D map that let them plan an approach.

It was a damp, cold day, and he had everyone in what looked like Gore-Tex and was a lot warmer. The Byko field gear was amazing.

Cryder pointed on the map. “You can take a vehicle to here, then walk down to the river path here. From there it’s about a kilometer to the village, downstream.”

Arnet noted, “I don’t need to worry about any power-plant signature. Long as we’re slow and shrouded, we should be invisible to observers.”

Dalton said, “Yeah, within a klick starts risking random hunters, love couples, whatever.” He pointed at marks that indicated wear from walking. “That bank sees notable traffic.”

“Zap as needed.”

“Hooah.”

Arnet hefted his weapon. “The stun is set for about an hour. It will vary several minutes either side.”

Raven asked, “Is there any danger to small children or the elderly from the shot?”

“Not significant,” Arnet replied. “It’s a neural effect, not energy release. Nothing is one hundred percent, but there’s no noted risk.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed.

Arnet spoke to all. “I will tune the commo now.”

“Comms, Arnet, broad, test, all receive?”

They nodded and concurred.

Sean responded, “Comms, Elliott, Arnet, confirm.”

“I confirm,” Arnet replied with a nod. “Note the system is aware it’s in use and didn’t require a prompt.”

The Byko tech was just there. You needed it, you asked or reached for it. It was amazingly convenient. It also hadn’t had any functional issues so far, unlike so many US military-issue items, or foreign ones that were frequently worse.

Sean ordered, “Everyone have a bite and some water. We’ll take five minutes for latrine. I want everyone fresh for what’s going to be a combat mission, even if we don’t anticipate any casualties either way.”

Five minutes later they were saddled up. Arnet started handling and waving controls. Even with Sean knowing how it was done, Arnet’s familiarity and casualness were striking. He fluttered hands, they started moving smoothly downslope and through the wards. It took very little time to reach their advance point.

It took little enough that Sean considered they should move their bivouac farther away.

When they stopped, he gave instructions. “Weapons, water, navigation gear, and we’ll get humping.”

There was acknowledgement.

“Arnet, I will take point with you. Oglesby, Hamilton, and Shug five meters back. Caswell, you and Dr. Raven next. Dalton, rear.”

“Roger.”

“Hooah, sir.”

“I intend to stun everyone on first contact. As we discussed, it is probable many will run away. If they respond en masse, I will order ‘Close up.’ We’ll keep a tight group. Specialist Hamilton will advise where to search. Caswell and Oglesby will assist. Shug is on call as needed. The rest of us will provide muscle around the perimeter. We need to search fast, then unass the area. Walk quietly, we’re in their area. Does everyone know basic patrol hand signs?”

Raven said, “No.”

Caswell told her, “I’ve got it. I’ll make sure you learn them.”

“Thanks.”

Sean led off with Arnet. Behind him he heard each element start in turn, though they were quiet enough it shouldn’t be audible more than a few meters. Anyway, humans wouldn’t be surprised to hear other humans, but might note the difference in footsteps or voices.


Rich was very alert at the rear. He didn’t have a buddy, so he was it. He also had to watch in case the females needed backup, because as good as Caswell was, she couldn’t handle both herself and Raven in an emergency. Then, Hamilton was an unknown, and Shug couldn’t do much. He might also just unass and leave, since he apparently had an idea where he was.

This hadn’t been covered in training at all.

Ahead, hand signs indicated observation contact. They’d seen something. He sank slowly to a squat and waited, ears open for anything human sounding.

Yes, there was a young male, not that far ahead.

Elliott muttered barely audibly. Rich couldn’t make it out.

Right then, the man turned. Had he heard even a whisper as being out of place? Or was it something else?

He turned away again and wandered about. He was just flinging rocks and being alone.

There was a boy with him. Younger brother?

Duckwalking closer to the front, Rich heard the captain and Arnet discussing.

“Well, that’s fine for us, but we can’t get closer until they head back, or we lose a few minutes on him.”

Arnet whispered, “That might be a fair trade.”

“It might be. We’ll give them ten minutes.”

The man did wander in that general direction, tossing rocks as he went. The boy followed idly along, picking up whichever rock seemed coolest at the moment, then swapping out for better ones.

As the men moved, Elliott slowly followed, letting them increase the gap. There was no rush.

Rich hadn’t considered that he’d be stunning women and children. Better than shooting them, at least. There’d been that one kid in A-stan, big enough to know better, with an AK. Someone else had hit him. Then the two men he’d shot in their last time trip, for whose souls he prayed from time to time.

At least these would just be unconscious, but it was still going to be a horrible experience for them.

“We’re within sight,” he heard the captain whisper in his earbuds. “We’ll start with these two, then pick up the pace and swarm in.”

“Hooah,” he replied quietly. It was really neat having the captain see all this on that visor he wore.

Two zaps sounded, softened by growth and breeze. The man and boy slumped to the dirt and flopped.

“Go!” he heard.

He rose and started running, automatically shifting laterally and taking cover behind trees as he moved. He realized it wasn’t necessary, and continued anyway, because it wasn’t going to hurt anything and he didn’t want a bad habit. Besides, there was a slim chance of a spear in the face. He paused, sprinted, ducked behind a tree, came out the other side, sprinted in two zigs, behind the next tree.

There was the clearing along the beach. A man and a woman were relieving themselves. Two were gathering water in skins. Kids were playing. Ahead, he heard the zapping sounds and watched people fall.

The woman and one kid fell into the water. He muttered, “Crap,” and angled that way.

And the dogs started barking.

“Shit!”

He grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled so she was half on the bank, then jumped over to the kid and pulled him far enough back he wasn’t going to fall in and drown.

Shouts, screams, and angry voices sounded among the weapon zaps. This wasn’t going to be quick. There were four just jumping out of somewhere, one man, two boys, and a girl. He raised the weapon and squeezed. They were just looking his way as they dropped in a heap.

A dog came at him, teeth bared, spittle frothing, and he pointed and shot. It went limp, landed, and tumbled into a flop.

On the other hand, it didn’t take that long, as quite a few just dropped what they were doing and ran into the woods. It took about two minutes, but then they had complete control and no dispute.

It was eerie, the village being totally devoid of human noises. He’d forgotten about the large number of kids, too. They stunned easily, but he felt like crap even though he knew they’d wake up. They’d be scared. Some were definitely just past the trees, hiding and watching. It was a real dick move.

He thanked God again he’d had the element he’d had, with their skills and determination. This could have sucked badly.

Hamilton pointed at what Rich recalled was Argarak’s hut. Oglesby and Caswell entered first, sweeping with weapons. They weren’t bad, considering. Raven jogged in, there was obvious movement in the shadows. In about a minute, she came out with a pack and two items clutched in her hand. She stuffed them in the ruck and tossed it toward the middle of the village.

They moved to the next one, which belonged to the subchief, Argarak’s son. The rummaging took a bit longer, but she emerged with a small item. One of the empty brass, possibly? She put that in the ruck.

She moved from hut to hut, into the longhouse, then through the other family lodges. By the time she was done, she had four rucks with some small stuff. She looped them all up over an arm, shifted it across her shoulder, and started walking.

Elliott signaled for everyone to follow, and they trooped back into the trees and upstream.

They traveled in closer proximity now, less concerned about human interaction.

The captain asked, “How did it go?”

Pointing, she indicated, “That’s four rucks, three cartridge cases, the knife, two of the bracelets.”

Elliott said, “A good start. Do we know who we need to find?”

“Well, I don’t know their names,” she said, “but I do have their DNA samples, several items off the list, and a way to collate other occupants against the items recovered. Will that let you trace things better, Arnet?” She held up sample bags, marked with some sort of nomenclature she obviously understood.

“Yes,” he agreed. “We can mark off negatives and reduce the search.”

They hiked fast back to the vehicle, loaded, and rolled back.

They drove into camp without issue. At the HQ tent, she laid out the findings.


Dan Oglesby watched as Cryder logged everything for their records, with photos from a tiny drone and his wrist gadget. When Raven showed him the DNA samples, he replied, “Excellent. If readable, we can use to find them by drone. Also, I sent two drones to look for chemical traces of expended cartridges. Nothing so far, though.”

Spencer said, “Boy, I can’t imagine they would after months or years.”

“Likely won’t, but the attempt must be made. Positively, no such items were discovered prior to your time, and after that, they’ll be assigned to your time. Nonetheless, I must be thorough.”

“Makes sense.”

Dan said, “So we need to find this guy Rasatuk’s ruck, and up to seven casings—”

Spencer interrupted, “Cases, please.” He looked sheepish and said, “Sorry.”

Elliott asked before Dan did. “Is there a difference?”

“The case contains the propellant, primer, and projectile. A casing contains sausage.”

Elliott sighed, smiled, then said, “Okay, we will use proper nomenclature. Up to seven cartridge cases.”

“Hamilton, which lodges would those be? Here’s the image.”

“Uh, that one, that one, and possibly that one.”

Raven rummaged. “Here they are.”

Cryder took the bags.

She asked, “Do you know how to properly ID the DNA for tracing?”

“I don’t,” he said, and grinned. “But the system does.”

“Fair enough. Either of us can help if you need it.”

“I’ll note that.” He did seem to mean it.

Elliott said, “I don’t want to go again immediately, but we’ll need to do so, soon. Or else we get them alone. I suspect they’ll stash their precious gifts as soon as they realize the others are gone, though.”

Dalton put in, “Or, they may decide to keep them on their person, which helps us in recovering the rest.”

“Good point. They might. We’ll have to see.”

Sean wondered if forty-seven days were going to be enough. They’d already used eight.


Amalie rubbed her eyes and leaned back from the screen. The Byko did have really comfortable reclining camp chairs, complete with headrests. They folded down to the size of a bucket lid.

There were some fascinating leads of the Q1a and Q1b sequences that certainly supported the Dene-Yeniseian hypothesis. It would be interesting to see if any of the present traces carried through to ancient American haplogroups. That would offer a very good cross-check and calendar.

The Army wasn’t doing badly, but they were sociologically unprepared for this type of event, or even many cultural events. Though it was unlikely they could get sufficient training for enlisted or even company-grade officers. Caswell was about as close as they got, all her schooling being civilian, and all of it contaminated with woke apologetics that only rephrased the problems without actually addressing them in a meaningful fashion.

She hated to think her presence had thrown off the transition. The Bykos had done a detailed scan by their standards, and she’d even made notes about some of it.

She caught a snippet of conversation between Armand Devereaux and Letitia Oyo and decided to listen more closely. It would be rude to do so without acknowledging, so she pushed out of the chair and walked that way.

As she approached, Devereaux said, “Whatever you want to tell us and can.”

Oyo shrugged in response, and then nodded to Amalie.

She said, “I guess it’s not been too bad. Argarak didn’t like black people, especially girls. Never touched me. I mean, I would have, to help the guys, but he only looked at Frenchy. I also kinda hinted I was with Jake Uhiara at first. I told the LT if we just pretended we had mates in the group, it would be fine. But then he was worried about fraternization with us. And then it was fraternize with them to make things cool. His brain really wasn’t working.” She looked exasperated and put upon.

Devereaux said, “Yeah, we handled things differently.”

The woman added, “But you really do need a family here. Breotah was decent enough, and was quite pleased with my skin.”

Amalie got close enough to participate and asked, “Mate?”

Oyo admitted, “Yes, but all he knew was hunting, and I’m an MP. We didn’t have a way to explain my role other than warrior, but here warriors are also hunters.”

Amalie replied, “Makes sense.” The cultural gulf was uncrossable, really. The locals didn’t even comprehend a wheel.

“He was decent and appreciative, but we’ve got nothing in common.”

Devereaux said, “I don’t know if you wanted kids—”

She shook her head, “Not here, no.”

He finished, “—but it’s easier at our end that you don’t.”

Oyo almost smirked. “Yeah, I gave a lot of strategic blowjobs, which are very popular here. But it was reaching the point where they were strongly urging me to bring forth youth.”

“Ah. Well, I’m glad this worked in your favor.”

Amalie said, “I’ve made a note to go to the deployment prep cadre, and to the SERE schools, noting ways to avoid getting intimate with locals even under pressure. Other than with Inuit, Sami, or Yupik tribes, of course.”

Devereaux looked puzzled and asked, “Why not them?”

She explained, “It’s not uncommon to provide a woman to guests to avoid freezing to death. Though there are still acceptable ways to avoid sex.”

He replied, “Ah. Makes sense.”

Oyo asked, “So once we get back, what do we do about training and promotions and stuff?”

“You pick up where you left off. Remember, it hasn’t been five years back home.”

“I remember,” she said. “But I’ve gotten rusty on a bunch of things.”

“You can get refresher training, and you’ll be paid a bonus and such. General McClare takes good care of us, and his assistant will carry on when he retires.”

“Awesome. Can we have music in camp?”

Doc replied, “You mean a group dance? Yeah, we did that. We have a pretty good library.”

“Damn. Orange juice, coffee, ice cream, R&B. I’m feeling a whole lot better already.” She stretched and smiled.

Amalie asked, “Did you hunt?”

“Not really,” she shrugged. “A few runs. You have to hand-carry everything back. That’s more of a male thing. They were teaching me things like scraping hides and draining guts for rope and sausage. Disgusting work.”

Amalie remembered seeing demos on the reservation, and handling some recent kills in field studies. “Hell, yeah, it is.”

“I was trying to learn flint and bone working. That’s also usually a male thing. And that’s when they kept telling me I should have a baby. I’d given up and actually tried, but didn’t catch.”

Amalie hinted, “There’s various reasons that might be.”

Oyo shrugged. “Cool either way. I want kids, but not out here.”

“Any other skills?”

“I did teach them some new ways to braid ropes and hair. The women liked me well enough once they knew I wasn’t a threat, so there’s that. But I was pretty alone out here.”

Devereaux replied, “I know what that’s like. I was literally the only black person in the world. And same in Bykostan. They’re…evasive, but they have Asians, Euros like them”—he indicated the Guardians—“and some Pacific-looking types, but I never once saw anyone African.”

Oyo said, “Some of our guys were a bit dickish, too. Partly me being black—and to Izzy as well—but also because I was basically on patrol to check local females. Some of them were treating me as a leech. Once here, it was worse.”

Amalie had studied anthropology for a reason. “I can guess which ones.”

Oyo sighed. “Yeah. Burnham was good, though. Honestly, I wish he’d been in charge. I don’t know if he could have done much, but he kept order.”

Devereaux agreed, “He does seem to have a decent grasp. He also had to defer to the officer for most matters. Given the circumstances, it’s hard to blame anyone.”

Actually, he seemed pretty pissed at Cole, but it was diplomatic not to say so.

“It’s all good now, if we get home,” she said. Though that seemed like a diplomatic comment, also.

Dalton came by. He had a sandwich as a snack. “How’s it going?”

Devereaux replied, “Hey, Rich. Mostly social stuff. We distracted Dr. Raven from something.”

Amalie grinned. “While I love haplogroup tracing, it’s not the most exciting process to read fine charts and sequences.”

Dalton asked, “What do you have?”

She gestured at the screen. “Pretty solid evidence for a Yeniseian MRCA for Amerind populations and contemporary Siberians, which we were sure of, but this hammers it down. The split was about twenty KYA, though interbreeding continued and will do so for a while. There are three immigration waves to North America, and what I’m finding here is the major link between the continents. There were others before and after, but this is the one that ties almost all American groups to the Asian lineages.”

“Twenty thousand years,” Dalton said, looking awkward.

Amalie sighed. “Yes, I know about your religious background. I didn’t make all that data up for fun,” she explained, waving at the screen. “It’s as solidly scientific as gravity. We’re just refining details.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to denigrate your work.”

“No harm,” she said, and didn’t mean it. How could the man still be a fucking Creationist nutjob when he was literally standing in the Upper Paleolithic?

At least it had created enough distraction for Oyo to slip away.


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