CHAPTER 11
The next morning, Rich Dalton rose, offered a quick prayer of thanks, and hurried for breakfast. This was the day.
They all dressed in their updated uniforms, checked off the gear, loaded it onto a broad, rolling dolly, and prepared for departure. Shug came along in his linen and leather, and it was fascinating that linen dated that far back. Though the Bible certainly referenced fabrics early on. Another myth of primitive savages failed in the face of evidence.
Cal the cat seemed to grasp the humans were leaving, and came by for skritches. He was happy to see his people again, and he seemed to have a comfortable life here, as mascot for the temporal group.
They had cloned Bibles and AR-10s, future weapons, rucks, personal effects, electronics and paper for documenting everything, a bale of material to fabricate uniforms for the displaced element—assuming they found them—defenses for the perimeter, cold climate clothing, tools. Whatever they’d need for a wartime deployment was on hand, though at a fraction the weight of their own era’s equipment.
The walk to the processing center in the dome was becoming familiar. They arrived at the platform with their dolly, and the two vehicles were already present. Cryder and Arnet indicated for them to bring the gear, and showed where to stow it, depending on how quickly it might be needed. They even helped this time.
Rich made another quick prayer, for their safety, and that of the unit they were trying to recover. With faith in God, this could be done. And if any of them needed ministering, he’d do his best.
Dr. Twine was there to see them off, in a long purple robe tied in at the waist. Another woman was with her. She was tall as they all were, dark and exotic looking with a slight slant to her eyes. Modern Siberian, possibly? Then Larilee Zep arrived, along with Ed Ruj. The gang was all here.
“Good luck to you all,” Twine offered. “If this works as it should, I’m told we’ll be standing right here when you return. May your recovery efforts be effective.”
“Thanks, ma’am,” he replied. It was nice to be supported.
“Good luck to you all,” the other said.
Spencer replied, “Thank you, Maralina.”
So he knew who she was. Interesting. She was strikingly beautiful even by the raised baseline of this time. He remembered her from the other night.
They stood waiting on the platform. Rich looked around and tried not to be tense. Caswell appeared to be praying. Shug seemed to grasp they were about to move, and was nervous. Spencer was breathing steadily. The two science chicks were each looking in a different direction, Raven toward the control panel, Sheridan at the people. Oglesby and the captain were agitated but he couldn’t tell which way. Arnet and Cryder were completely casual.
There was the familiar BANG, not overly loud, and longer in duration than an explosion. Now that he had a chance to hear it while relatively unstressed, Rich realized it was more of a displacement shock, sort of like lightning. Which made sense.
He looked around and saw landscape, but no immediate threats. He looked down. They had less of a chewed-up area under them this time. He looked again in detail and saw it was a prairie-looking slope with wildflowers and brush. In the distance, trees were just barely starting to show some color. So it was early fall. Late September, perhaps? Off to the east was a herd of something, and the juveniles were a good size. Definitely reaching autumn.
Shug suddenly looked much brighter. He recognized this as his home environment.
Cryder said, “Wer through, nd everthn seems to’ve ccompnied us. I’s slightly worrd bou that, but they calced the mass crecly n here we are.”
His native accent returned when he wasn’t paying attention. That was something to note and mention. It could matter in an emergency.
Sean Elliott said, “I understood you but that was slightly uneven.”
“What? Ah. Okay,” the man acknowledged.
Cryder followed with, “Think that clearing a good place for camp. We’re visible enough, have decent fire fields, and are on the southeast of the crest. Minimizes weather and maximizes sun. Thoughts?”
Arnet said, “I concur.”
Cryder nodded, and looked at Sean.
Well, it was nice to be consulted. It did mean he was part of the team leadership.
“Yes, that’s fine for now. I’m not opposed to moving if we find something better as we search.”
“Probably’ll have to,” Cryder said. “May not be that close. Sar’int Spencer, your comments?”
Spencer said, “I see nothing to disagree with. I’m confident in you and the captain. If I see a reason to raise any comments, trust me, I will.”
“Very good,” the man agreed with a nod, then pointed. “That’s camp. If I may: Spencer, Arnet, move Rollers, drone will mark the positions. Everyone walk, then pleece the area for obstacles and positions.”
That was clear enough. Sean said, “Spread out, two-meter intervals. Obstacles are boulders, stumps, holes, anything we might have trouble with on foot. Positions I assume are useful points for a defensive hasty. We’ll prep those.”
Sheridan said, “So this is a lot like the Romans. Move in, secure, then either fill or mark for later use when we leave.”
“Exactly that,” he agreed. “Some things, once developed, never change.”
He turned, hefted his ruck and shrugged into it, and started walking.
The local animal noises started to resume. Apparently the transition had startled them.
It wasn’t more than couple of hundred meters, but it was upslope on broken terrain. It felt a good five times that, but he was in decent enough shape. It wouldn’t hurt to find a way to keep working out, though.
He gave the women this, they didn’t protest about the hike. That had been partly his doing. The rucks could have gone on the vehicles, but since they were already carrying them, there was no reason not to continue doing so. He wanted to see how they handled it.
They didn’t complain. They were a bit unsteady at first on rough terrain, but they trudged along, keeping pace with the rest. For two hundred meters. It was a good first test, though.
The chosen area was fairly clear. A half dozen bushes were visible enough. There were two sizeable boulders near the surface but not high enough for cover. The terrain had just enough slope for drainage, and they’d want to put their heads uphill to sleep.
Cryder and Arnet handed out gear and directed. He took it on himself to post Dalton near the crest and Caswell toward the woodline on sentry.
Arnet floated up a drone. Sean recalled the model from their last trip.
“That thing is solar powered?” he asked.
Arnet said, “Yes. Is very light, with a durable capacitor, and solar recharging. It droops at night and climbs in day. It has IR spectrum sensors and also acts as a commo relay.”
“Line of sight, I recall.”
“Yes. Don’t go more than forty kilometers from here.” He grinned in irony. Although, given the vehicles, he might be serious.
Arnet popped up a shelter and pointed inside. “This is the light switch. I recommend five lumens for reading or personal matters. Brighter, your vision will be affected, and above forty lumens will start to show. It has monochrome six none zero nanometers for best nighttime vision protection. Limited capacity enviro unit. If you need it, it will last all night for several nights in this climate.”
Cryder and Spencer had spent this time setting out posts, about ten meters apart.
Cryder said, “Wards are now set. Don’t exit except between vehicles. I have them set for a heavy stun, assuming predators.”
Sean sighed. The work his element had done with logs, bark, hand tools, and backbreaking labor over weeks was duplicated in an hour with futuristic tools.
He asked, “What about the latrine?”
“Behind Roller One. It will drain into a ditch we’ll fill tomorrow.”
Arnet was pulling the curtain around right then. Field primitive, but with privacy. Good enough.
Sheridan hurried that way and said, “I need to test that right now.”
Arnet then said, “If you want fire, it’s acceptable. I recommend that hollow there.” He pointed at a depression. “You can take a wagon out for a load of wood. I’ll start warming food at Roller Two. There’ll also be a small alcohol ration. We’ll eat in one hour.”
Dalton and Oglesby took the collapsible wagon for wood. The conveyance had tall, grippy off-road tires and a decent capacity. It had its own power supply, like a powered dolly. With one of the flex tools, that Sean knew could be turned into a silent chain saw, they were off and back in twenty minutes with enough cut wood for the night.
Dinner was ready right on time, and it was great not to have to use field spacing for rations. Sean urged everyone else ahead.
“Commander eats last,” he said. “By rank from the lowest.”
Raven seemed amused. “I’m pretty sure my contract rate is well above captain, but I appreciate it, Sean.” She and Sheridan lined up after Spencer. Doc was next to last.
“Rank is also a position,” he agreed. “I want to make sure everyone is fed.”
Oglesby asked, “Where do we put Shug?”
Sean replied at once with, “That’s a good question,” while he thought quickly. “Put him with you so you can help him, and explain that his status is that of an advisor and subordinate leader.”
“I think he’ll like that, sir.”
The young man’s eyes widened as Oglesby translated, and he did seem very flattered.
Oglesby helped Shug choose foods suited to him. The boy had grasped how to use knife, spoon, and fork efficiently if not neatly enough for formal events. He looked much more comfortable in breechcloth, leggings, and tunic than he had in the ersatz native Afghan clothes or US uniform.
The Guardians’ field kitchen setup was very efficient, and included dishes. Dinner was close enough to pot roast to be called so, with minimal gravy and crisp carrots and onions he’d swear had not been preserved in any way. There were baked potatoes stuffed with some sort of cheese, ham, and onions with a sprinkle spice on the side that seemed reminiscent of Hungarian. He tasted it and decided to skip that, but added a shaking of very flavorful pepper to the beef.
They sat on rolls of something that were good enough for a hasty setup. Spencer and Doc just stood over the hood of Roller One and ate off it.
Dessert was a frozen fruit ice that was quite light on the stomach. It was very refreshing after a couple of hours in the field, even laid back as it had been so far.
He was still hungry, so he wandered over to the kitchen awning and looked at what else was there. Some sort of bread rolls, and stuff to spread on them. Cheese? Yes.
There were eleven cups, each with liquor. It smelled like rum.
Arnet came up and said, “Mix that,” and pointed at a small tube of flavoring, “with the liquor.”
It was suddenly spiced rum with a nutty finish.
Arnet took a small tub, poured powder and water into it, stirred it, then drew a hose from the kitchen apparatus, much like a drink dispenser. He gripped it, and a blast of vapor rose from the tub.
Oglesby asked, “What’s that?”
“Liquid nitrogen. Field-expedient ice cream.”
The man exclaimed, “Holy shit! How do I enlist?”
Arnet grinned and noted, “You have this technology.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of engineer and medical units doing similar stuff, but it wasn’t built into the truck.”
Dalton called, “Did someone say ‘ice cream’?” and arrived at a brisk walk.
The ice cream was also a base with flavor. One took the mixed liquid, added the contents of a packet—the strawberry included freeze-dried strawberries that puffed back to full volume quickly—set the container in the kitchen cubby, and pressed a surface switch. The nitrogen fumed and hissed, and five seconds later, the bowl had ice cream in it.
“That’s amazing.”
“It’s not bad,” Arnet agreed. “I understand you had much better rations than the generation before.”
Spencer said, “Or the ones before that. The military went from gruel and scavenging, to crackers and beans, to bland packages, finally to something almost good. It looks like you’ve taken it another level.”
Sean and Spencer took strawberry. Doc had butterscotch, as did Oglesby. Dalton had chocolate. Caswell went for vanilla and gave a couple of spoonfuls to Shug. Raven frowned and took one bite herself, thanking Caswell for it. Sheridan dug into the chocolate all out, and Arnet and Cryder both had pear, which Sean was willing to try next time.
After dinner, Oglesby and Arnet wiped the nonstick dishes, which were then UV sterilized in their compartment. That was it. The onboard cistern was full of water for drinking and limited washing, would be refilled by rain or when they crossed a watercourse.
“You certainly make field conditions easy,” Sean commented. “As much as I like movies and expect you have some, I think I want to check out the stars.”
“They’re very vivid in this time,” Cryder agreed.
Everyone gathered to watch the sun set, the sky clear, bright, with orange blazing to light blue to violet then black. Stars appeared, more luminous and plentiful than could be seen in either future era, though Sean seemed to recall the future sky was clearer and less obscured than the twenty-first century. It was refreshingly cool with a gentle breeze, cooling steadily as the night progressed.
“Wowww,” he heard Raven say softly. Doc had an app up on his phone and was checking the ephemeris, probably, to compare actual versus predicted.
Sheridan said, “I recognize constellation patterns, but they look battered.”
Doc looked ecstatic to have a way to place himself. Shug seemed very pleased to recognize stars, and be able to see them clearly. That was probably something he was keenly aware of. Everyone else just stared. There were animal noises, insects, wind sighs.
“You know,” Sean said, “if I have to bivouac, or even just camp, this is the way to do it. You could set up tours and make a fortune.”
Cryder replied, “That’s a thing we’re afraid of. Too much presence will eventually affect the Temporality.”
Sean asked, “Yeah. How much?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know the figures, but I know Bycop and Suhrny are concerned about it and greatly restrict travel. My reward, and Arnet’s, for being displaced is to be two of the very few trusted as escorts and recon.”
“I hope it’s enjoyable, not a chore.”
The man sounded calm, but said, “It’s very enjoyable. I also find myself tense with concern.”
“I hear that.”
They resumed watching the sky, completely black where the stars weren’t. Then more, faint stars appeared behind those, and the Milky Way, spilling across the sky to the south. Was that the faint trail of a meteor?
After a while, Cryder said, “We have sensors on the perimeter. Arnet and I are armed for response. You’re welcome to post watch but need not.”
Sean said, “We’ll trust the equipment. Anyone who wants to stay up is welcome. What time are we waking up, Cryder?”
“Oh eight hundred your time is good.”
That late? This definitely wasn’t the US Army.
“Fair enough. We’re likely to wake up around sunrise.”
“Keep noise moderate, please. We’ll eat as soon as we’re up, recon, then hopefully strike biv and move to contact.”
“You heard him,” he said to make it official on his end.
He went to his shelter to get his toothbrush, and headed for the latrine behind the first vehicle.
Shug found the knowledge of the others frustrating. They had these moving huts. Veeculs. They could shake a piece of fabric into a portable lodge. They could have hot food without a fire, and with no time taken.
The lodge was just enough for him, very comfortable, and magic. He would have slept under grass or a hide if he had one. They just waved hands and a rolled piece of weave magically became a tiny lodge to sleep in.
He had no idea what to do, so he climbed in and thought about sleeping.
He actually felt alone and unsure with everything closed, even though he knew Dan and the others were only a few steps away. He left the end open. It wasn’t that cold of an evening. Also, the sleeping hide he was wrapped in was quite warm. He was very comfortable and, once he could see the fire and the others, relaxed and calm.
The sky held lots of stars and they looked right. There was the Cup, and the Mountain, and the Raindrops. That made him feel a lot better.
The fire by the veeculs was a good size. Just large enough to be seen and provide warmth to those around it, with some smoke to warn animals that people were here. Fuel didn’t seem to be a problem. Besides wood, they had those small bundles that burned for a long time.
He really felt unsure without his spear, but Zhenny and Martin were up with their magic weapons. He understood they could stop a lion with one. Then they had their magic seeing thing. Fedeo, it was called. This was a strange camp, but it should be completely safe. He did have his knife, and he put that next to his headroll.
All that done, he curled up in the hide and went to sleep.