Scrambled, page 18
part #14 of Directorate Series
"That's great . . . but where are you going to get seeds?"
"Ha!" Umaya trundled past him, hands full.
"Potatoes?"
"I grabbed all sorts of things while the crazy was going on. Yams, tomatoes . . . I don't know if I can get viable seeds from the squash, but I'll try. Popcorn isn't ideal, but better than no corn at all. And beans and peas, of course."
"Of course." Nick grinned at Gamer. "Your Momma is good at this survival stuff."
A snort. "I am not a spoiled city girl. We always had a big garden and a few fruit trees. Papa always said we should know how to live without depending on others."
The Prophet Victor. "Yes, Dad said he was a scholar. Studying magic, inventing spells and techniques. You lived with him and your mother, didn't you? When Dad was traveling?"
"After your mother died." Umaya sighed. "I thought I'd be jealous of a sister-wife, but Eltia was like a second mother to me. And you! Horrible brat, spoiled. No wonder your father took you off with the soldiers when you were so young!"
Nick grinned. "Careful. For just a moment there you were being nice."
"Humph!" Umaya snapped her fingers with a spark of light.
Reminding me that she's magic. Not as well trained as a Warrior, or one of these Princesses, but better than the average Oner.
"I need to start teaching magic lessons. I wonder if we could get one of those Black Horse Guard Princesses to teach the girls."
Gamer perked up. She's sixteen, she should be getting regular lessons.
"Certainly not! Those women have no morals! And they're trained to kill!" Umaya plunked her potatoes down and started burying them.
"Nick's trained to kill." Gamer grinned at him. :: And no morals to speak of! Orgies!::
:: Only one. ::
"Ra'd ibn Nicholas is not a woman." Umaya snapped, then flushed a bit. "I mean, just because . . ."
"Stop." Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. "For your information, that healing potion, err, I regenerated some body parts. Okay? So let's stop . . ."
Umaya screamed. Jumped up and grabbed him and danced him around, and Gamer was laughing and the other wives came to see what was wrong . . .
Which turned into a party, which somehow included getting the gardens planted, and the dinosaur in a pit to slow roast. A hoarded package of cookies shared around. And Abbas scolded for deciding to wait.
Umaya's little house had four mattresses on the floor. "Since you've practically adopted the boy . . . you men and the dogs will sleep over there. Qamar and I will be over here, and when we get the plumbing in, there will be walls and a bathroom in between. And I will have a kitchen."
Nick grinned. And managed to not ask if she figured men and dogs were equally dirty animals. At least she let us in the house.
“Are all the other stray kids taken care of?”
Sniff. “Of course. Mostly they’re with school friends, but we’ve taken in a few extras.” Sniff. “You need to move those houses north of the pond around to this side. No one wants to be alone over there and Meisha’s taken in two extra children, so you need to make all three of those three-sided sheds into a single house for her. Then Mona and Jadida can each have their own house like this one, instead of sharing. Even if they do just have a single child each.”
Nick nodded. “So . . . Gamer. How would you like to try your telekinesis out on some house building?”
***
With both of them levitating, they disassembled the first three crude buildings and shifted all the pieces, truckload by truckload, around to the other side and set them up into a single building.
Then with a list and all the measurements, they raided the Black Horse barracks. Chunks of wall, doorways, sinks, bathtubs, and toilets.
“My head hurts.” Gamer was grinning, though. “Can we finish today?”
“Nope. I’ll go raid the hardware store for more pipe and we’ll see about running water to every house and try to improvise septic tanks that won’t pollute our drinking water.”
“Eww!”
“Exactly. Dad always said that public works saved more lives than antibiotics.” Nick took a deep breath and refused to get teary about the memory. “So we’ll do this right.”
He glanced up at the line of clouds to the north. “And it looks like we may get a chance to see how watertight these houses are.”
Gamer winced. “The center of the roofs . . . they aren’t actually connected, and sometimes they don’t even touch.”
It rained all night, a steady soaking. Not too bad, inside.
“I’ll also look for sealants . . . flashing. When the rain stops, and the ground dries enough that the truck won’t bog down.”
Chapter Forty-three
More Soldiers
15 April 3513 ne
Lou eyed the approaching soldiers.
Nearly everyone was outside, lots of meat over the coals, and some experimentation with various sort-of-grains going on to one side.
They must be watching to see when we'd be worth robbing again.
"Only six of them. I wonder how much they'll steal this time."
The one in the lead heard that. He frowned at them. "We're not thieves . . . is that really Main Accounting?"
Paulette Hill stalked down the steps. "Yes it is, and we're the accountants. We're Earthers, same as you, young man. You're supposed to be protecting us, not stealing our food and leaving us to starve."
"Well . . . we didn't."
Lou joined Miss Hill. "Not you specifically, those soldiers were Orientals of some sort."
All the heads in the small patrol were nodding. "General Fu's Special Troops. They get all the perks."
One of the soldiers elbowed the speaker. "Sarge, remember last week? When they had the feast and we weren't invited? Bet this is where the food came from."
The sergeant inhaled deeply. "Yeah." Hungry and wistful.
Harrison stalked down to frown at them. "You guys are better equipped to hunt than we are. What's up?"
"General Fu. He wants us all ready to fight. No hunting for anything but Oner Mutant incursions."
Paulette sniffed. "I never did believe that nonsense. Just propaganda, I figure."
"No, we've got some captives, tested them. They may look human, but they aren't."
Lou's thoughts solidified. "Well, the meat's a bit rare and definitely tough, but you guys look hungry enough to manage. C'mon up."
Paulette frowned at him.
"Remember? We need to make friends. We're defenseless."
She sniffed and hustled to grab Nick's knife and a plate and start carving meat off a roast. "You two are doing an excellent job of keeping us safe. And hunting."
Lou grinned and grabbed more lumpy asymmetrical plates. "Yeah, I know. Not your fine china, but we're getting better."
"Wow. You guys are actually making dishes? That's amazing!" An eager private took a plate full of meat and savored his first bite. "That's delicious. We've got generators enough to run a couple of fabs."
Another pulled out a package. "Look at this crap they give us to eat."
"Crackers?" Paulette perked up. "We've been eating so much meat that crackers sound wonderful . . . is that chocolate?"
Two hundred and sixteen women stopped frowning and started looking hopeful.
Harrison snickered. "If you can swap around and bring us chocolate and bread, we'll gladly feed you meat in large quantities."
The soldiers shared what they had, not that it went far, then boggled over their tidy square pool of fresh water.
"We've been scavenging pipes from the building behind us, but there's not enough water pressure to actually get it into the building."
Sergeant Ron Matthis nodded. "You'd need a pump and electricity."
Mr. Ferguson nodded toward the top of the building. "Pity they never got the solar panels working. But I suppose it looks virtuous, even when it doesn't work right."
Lou sat up. "Do you mean to say we've got solar panels on the roof?"
"Eh, you're too new to know about it. They ordered a different inverter, to get the phase angle right or some such nonsense, and it never arrived.
PFC Shade grinned. "But with no grid power, that doesn't matter. Let's take a look."
An hour later they had power.
By unanimous vote, they left the lights turned off.
Probably no need, without battery backup the lights would be off anyway, but in the early evening they might be obvious before the solar cells quit altogether.
"We don't want to attract attention."
The soldiers all nodded. "We'll try to make you part of our patrol territory, and . . . jiminy. You guys are such a tasty target."
He almost hated to see them go.
We have allies. The Oner civilians and half our own army.
Gala walked up to stand beside him. "It's nice to know all soldiers aren't vicious killers."
"Hey!"
"Oh, you two are . . . you know us." She grinned. "Have I shown you my office? I'm experimenting with grass stuffed under an area rug for a mattress. It's not bad."
Lou prodded his loose teeth with his tongue. Not too painful. Really.
A sigh from Gala. "Guess not."
"No! It's just . . . that first group of soldiers knocked some of my teeth loose . . . "
"Oh! Oh no. And no dentists here . . . unless the Oners have one? Maybe tomorrow, instead of hunting, you could walk way around the army base and find Nick? He might know where to find a dentist."
"Good idea." And somehow he'd been maneuvered inside and into the stairwell . . . I could use a distraction . . .
Chapter Forty-four
Black Horse Plans
25 Jumada 1400 nyp
"Oatmeal?" Ahco blinked at the bowl . . . "Ah. We need it more than the horses do, right?"
"Right. I mean, we're going to run out, so we might as well start the horses grazing now as later." Myyk sat down across from him, with her bowl. "Ahco, what the hell are we going to do, if no one comes to rescue us? Because no one's going to come and rescue us."
He nodded. "I suspect that was the preamble to telling me what we need to do?"
"For starters, we need to talk to the Ministry people. We need to persuade them to not initiate hostilities with the Earthers. Again.
"We're never more than a day ahead of going hungry. We really need to hunt every day, and find some salt to preserve meat. We especially need to hunt down the carnivorous dinosaurs and kill them before they start reproducing. And native predators as well, so we can extend our pastures.
“This is Yusef. The middle of summer. We ought to be cutting hay. We need to store food for people and hay for horses. Just in case this place has nasty winters.
“We need gardens. One only knows what we can grow. I wish I'd thought of that days ago."
Dipper joined them halfway through Myyk's list, listening quietly. Nodding.
Ahco sat back and pondered the list. "Yes to all of it. But all the talking to the Ministry won't help if the Earthers attack again. Dipper, are you feeling better?"
"No, dammit. I'm back to normal."
Ahco surprised himself with a laugh.
"However, I do have a few things to report. I encountered Nick—he killed three raptors with slices. Ten meters to thirty meters away. We really don't want to get on his bad side. In fact, we might want to ask him about magic lessons. He says he drank a whole bunch of that potion of his, then a couple more doses, and regrew his balls. He says the hormones are hell, and from his squeaky voice, I believe him. I suspect the geldings that got dosed probably didn't get enough for anything but a hopefully brief hormone flash. But when we're ready to get into horse breeding, I think we can skip the hybridization with the native wild horses step."
"That's handy. I wonder if it'll work on that Priest? Son-of-bitch needs a rude shock." Ahco ignored their startled looks. "I need to talk with Ijje about roving patrols. I'll see if there's any desire for peace, or at least a ceasefire, on our side. And hunting. And I'll ask if anyone there has any farming experience."
Dipper raised her hand. "I lived, and helped, on my grandmother farm until I went off to boarding school in the enclave when I was fourteen. Small truck farm and beef cattle."
Myyk nodded. "I'll start asking around the apartments. Surely with more than five thousand people we've got people with agricultural experience."
Dipper bit her lip. "Do we need to talk with all the Red Zone people? Start consolidating, blending our areas together? Most of them are our people, and even the Natives who are there are probably glad to be away from the Earther's. And . . . he said those four women in his gang are the widows of warriors who died at Rangpur. That's eleven centuries ago!"
Ahco thought back to his conversation with Nick, before . . . before he went full on Warrior and saved our asses. "I . . . had no sense whatsoever that he was lying. One Damn me. Actual Warriors of the One appear, and the Priests instantly turn them into enemies."
Dipper blinked at him. "You believe him."
"I questioned a priest who was in the clinic, and he confirmed it."
Myyk bit her lip. "He still killed multiple priests, and abetted the assassination of the Prophet Emre."
"Self-defense, perhaps." Ahco shrugged irritably. "Nick mentioned a need for a monetary system. Ask for . . . Oh One Hell. Anyone with micro manufacturing ability? If we can find something . . . Metal washers? Are there any hardware stores here? Or in the Red Zone? Then the Magifactors could work them over, create coins that are counterfeit proof?"
Myyk nodded. "Farmers, gardeners, magifacturing. I'll also run a census, and locate vacant apartments so we can move the people at Fatma Place."
"And spread out a bit, ourselves." Ahco nodded. Scraped the bowl. "Damn I'm going to miss things like this."
Then he straightened his uniform and headed for the ministry.
The Ministry building itself was rubble. But the smaller office buildings beyond it had survived. They were now Army headquarters. Beyond them, a patch of weathered gray rocks, a patch of desert set down in the lush high grass. Filled with makeshift shacks built from rubble and brick scavenged from the fallen buildings. If it hadn't been for the straight rows and the lack of trash, Ahco would have taken it for slums in one of the desperate hellholes that still lingered in remote pockets of the world.
"How the mighty have fallen." But he kept his voice down and walked down to an actual guard post. Returned the salute of the Ministry guard there. "Emil, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir. Sir? Is it true that Azho the Priest Killer is a Warrior of the One?"
"Apparently so. All those stupid movies with the Bags of the Prophets . . . I'd never realized that it was known to have happened. Where might I find Captain Ijje?'
"First building, there. Top floor." The guard's face went expressionless. "He's temporarily using the Minister's office."
Ooo. Jumped himself up a bit from number three guard officer to subbing for the boss.
"Thanks. You guys doing all right?"
Emil glanced over at the rubble shacks and grinned. "Ask me after the next rainstorm. We’re . . . fixing the drainage and we’ve located all the leaks in our roofs. Rumor has it you guys are all cushy in upscale apartments."
"Seventeen of us in two apartments. We're running a survey of empty apartments, but I doubt we can fit you all in."
"And no elevators, electricity or water?"
"Water, on the lower floors. We need to get more pressure. Do you guys have water?"
"Toted in from the stream. Half the guys got the trots."
"We nabbed a sump pump and scavenged pipes. Highly recommended." Ahco headed for the office building. That explains a lot. Half of them sick, the rest are toting water. No wonder there's so few on duty at any given time. Not to mention a friggin' guard outside the patch, and another at the door of the office building.
This one wasn't known, and Ahco had to give him a frosty glare until the man saluted and stepped out of the way.
Three flights of stairs. He stifled the thought that the Minister had chosen this building because he could be on top without too much personal effort . . . No, he'd chosen this one for the setup and décor. Bright beautiful rugs, gleaming mahogany and leather furniture, expensive art on the walls. A sweeping view of grasslands, punctuated by ruins and exotic trees . . . "I hope that's not a huge long patch of dinosaur habitat over there."
A grunt behind him. "It is. Once we get rid of the Earthers, we can do something about them." Ijje was glowering at him. "What do you want, Captain?"
"A monetary system would be nice. More men on outer perimeter guard duty would be even better."
"I don't have enough who are healthy."
Ahco paused. "Major Atzw fielded something around four hundred troops. I know we lost forty, but surely there weren't that many more wounded!"
"Oh, you smarmy Black Horse Guards with your shields and your magic . . . "
Ahco choked. "Is that why the Minister wasn't shielded? Not one of his guards could put up a physical shield?"
Ijje glowered. "Our best men died to get him out of the ministry building." He pointed over at another building. "By-and-large the rest are dying in a makeshift hospital."
"I . . . did not realize that. I will send some healing potions immediately."
"Potions? Have we descended to Granny Magic, now?" Ijje sneered. "Come into my office."
Don't you mean the Minister's office?
:: Myyk can you hear me? ::
Something fuzzy but unreadable in return.
:: Get that healing wine and send it over to the second building from their outpost. ::
No idea if she'd heard him, they were probably close to two kilometers apart. I can send it over later.
Ijje led him, not to the big corner office, but the one next to it. A tiny sign of sanity. Good. Ijje circled the desk and sat down. "A monetary system? Are you kidding?"
"No sir. We have almost ten times as many civilians as military. We need to get them working, producing stuff, and we need a medium of trade."
