Scrambled, page 22
part #14 of Directorate Series
"To hell with this world. I'm going home!" A stout woman elbowed through the crowd and marched down to the crawler. More people followed in a rush.
The Prime Councilor turned to his bodyguards. "Stop them! Shoot the first one who tries to . . . "
As the two guards lifted their guns, Ra'd stalked forward, dropping his shields to show his diamond hard power.
"Don't even think of doing that." The guards backed off blinking, shaking their heads.
"Who the One Hell do you think you are?" The Prime Councilor glared.
"I am Ra'd ibn Nicholas ibn Emre. This," Ra'd held up a rusty double rod, "is my father's bag of the prophets, and you . . . " swoop, "are in it."
He turned and faced the guards. "You want him back? Come with me."
***
"Well. That worked." Ebsa kicked back and popped a soda. Saluted Ra'd. "Now how are we going to get the Earthers to behave?"
Chapter Fifty-two
Allies and Plumbers
26 April 3513 ne
"Damn, things are starting to look up."
Lou looked over at Harrison. Spiffy in clean clothes. "Yeah. Clean clothes! My idea of a luxury has dropped like a rock . . . and my appreciation has soared."
Harrison snickered. "And no doubt Gala's appreciation has also soared."
"Huh. I think you have a girl on every floor."
"Only one? You have no idea what you and Gala missed once that wine started flowing. Speaking of which, we're going to need refills."
"Let's wait until we've worked over the pipes and see what fittings we need. Then we'll take the runabout over to the hardware store. If we can actually get water to the sixth floor, I'm moving into the big office. Gala's already talking about how to redecorate it."
"You may have to fight some other people for it. Mr. Ferguson got up and sort of walked this morning. He needs physical therapy, of which we can offer none at all. Everyone is feeling really good now that we've survived the hangover."
"We? You tried it too?"
"Everyone did. That stuff you brought home included some lemonade mix, and a couple bottles of vodka and well, the punch packed a punch even before we added that zowie juice of yours. Ooooeeeee! It was even worth the hangover."
"Judging by your grin, it must have been." Good thing I only handed over one bottle! "And it's Nick's zowie juice."
Harrison straightened, one hand reaching for his rifle.
Lou spun . . . relaxed. "It's Sergeant Matthis and company. Squad. Did you guys eat the whole cow, or can we feed the troops?"
"Nope, we were too busy to eat it all." Harrison waved at Matthis and walked out. "How's it going?"
"Weirdly. General Fu was out with the troops—patrolling, he says—and got his ass kicked. He’s raving mad, and half his troops are scared and . . . if I'm translating it right . . . whispering about magic and bullet proof demons."
"So you're taking a nice long patrol yourself?" Lou shook hand. "Good to see you guys again. Hungry as usual?"
"God yes, when the wind's right we can smell your barbecue. It's a wonder the whole army hasn't found its way to your doorstep." Sergeant Ron Matthis waved at his men. "I brought some extras along, just to get them away from Fu's people. They're . . . acting weird."
Lou gulped. I wonder what else Nick did to them? "Dinosaurs, maybe? Was anyone killed? Was there a fight?" Thank God Nick told me to keep low! Maybe I'll cut my hair, just in case one of them got a good look at me.
One of the soldiers looked up from the plate he'd been handed. "They kept saying 'one man, a demon' as best any of us can work out. We all know a little Chinese, yi means one, with any inflection. Heard that a lot."
One of the young ladies handed Ron a plate. "You hungry too, Lou?"
"Umm, yeah, actually." Lou blinked as a plate full of meat and some crispy things that were probably mostly acorn was handed to him. "So, Ron, while you're patrolling, how'd you like to, umm, accidentally happen to shoot one of these oversized wild cows to take home? Never hurts to start showing the troops how to live off the land before all the food synthesizers break down, eh?"
"Yeah . . . we keep talking about it, but . . . The officers are so paranoid about the Oners that they want us to save every bullet."
"Hmm, you know, those cows will sometimes charge if you accidentally get too close . . . "
"Forcing us to shoot it. And then, well, there was no danger, so . . . "
"You recruited some of those civilians to help you get it back to HQ."
The soldiers were grinning and nodding.
Empty plates were whisked away to be washed.
"It's amazingly handy, being around about a hundred middle-aged women who like to cook and are dedicated to cleanliness." Lou glanced around. Pauline's not using her cane, Mr. Ferguson's walking small distances, even though he stays close to his wheelchair. Zowie Juice.
Ron smirked. "Not to mention the young women?"
Harrison glanced toward the crowd of mostly females. "Umm, occasionally I feel a bit like the lamb invited to the wolf family picnic. Really, you guys ought to come around more often."
Lou eyed their guests. "How many of you soldiers over there are General Fu's and how many of you normal, civilized types are there? And why are there two different groups over there?"
"Oh, we're the guards and gofers for the HQ types inside the Gate Complex. We've also got the Close Staging Area, you know, where the troops organize before they zip down the street and through the gate to terrorize some poor Natives?"
"So you're the Home Army and they're the Away Army?" Harrison sat down with them, his own plateful of food in hand.
"Exactly. Fu planned to send his lead armor and infantry companies through first, and was going to go through with the second armor company, followed by two arty and three more infantry . . . Luckily most of them got left behind, what with being parked outside the . . . "
"Travelling patches?" Lou suggested.
"Yeah, that's good. Well, most of our brass was at the gate, observing. So when it was all over, General Fu—don't say Brigadier where he can hear—was the ranking officer."
"So, General Fu's rearranged things all neat and tidy. He's got three full companies, plus the armor . . . if he ever gets it repaired . . . And a bunch of officers and such. We've got two partial companies, and then there's the office and clerical staff, for the bureaucrat types permanently assigned there. But like I said. Most of the brass was observing. Our ranking officer is Captain Garlin, and Fu just runs right over him."
Denny Seitz, PFC, nodded. "So there's a hundred and fifty of us, fifty civvy office staff and about nine-hundred of them. It ain't pretty over there."
"No place to sleep, the women are flat out terrified, and the food . . . " Ron shuddered.
"We're just keeping our heads down while they figure out what job and what troops belong to whom." The new trooper was definitely on the petite side, and the voice obviously forced to deeper tones than natural.
Lou nodded. "Huh. I hadn't thought about that. Most of you guys were out at the big army base north of here. What happened? Were any of you in on the assault though the gate?"
"Yeah, and let me tell you it was strange." Ron bit his lip. "We're not supposed to talk about it. I guess they don't want everyone to know how we got beat up by two guys."
"Two guys?"
"Yeah, first on the other side, then they came through the gate and blew it up." Ron hunched his shoulders. "We were some of the troops that went through. General Fu was pissed that he didn't get all the glory, but he told us off to guard the gate while his men took out all the Oners . . . "
"Guess it didn't work the way he had planned."
"No kidding. Things started getting weird, patches switching around." Ron waved at the building. "Small and close in at first, then they'd go back . . . and the next round was bigger, longer . . . Then the Gate blew. We were Across, and one of those guys told us to back up onto a concrete patch and maybe it would take us home. And it did. And we ran for it. Fastest two kilometers in company history. It kept switching around . . . We got back to HQ . . . and wound up here. Most of us, and almost half of Fu's troops."
Lou nodded. "We forted up inside, when we ought to have run for it, gotten off this patch the first time we spotted something normal outside of it."
Ron nodded. "Do you think they'll ever find us?"
"Who? The Oners blew up our gate, and we don't even know if they have one working or not." Lou looked over to where the women were clustering around Ron's squad. "Not dead sure I want to be rescued."
"Yeah . . . I just wish Fu was acting like an involuntary colonist, instead of . . . he's not even acting like a general. He's acting like he's going to make himself the King of the World."
"Oh . . . umm, that's not good." Lou shifted. "You know, if some of the women feel threatened over there, they could come here. Ten kilometers due north, and pretty safe. We shoot predators on sight."
"Good . . . because we have a bad case of human predators over there." Ron’s head jerked around as one of his squad yelled, and pointed.
Lou looked. “It’s all right! Relax. We’ve made friends with some of the Civilians on the other side—Miners and Purps, and yes, Oners. They aren’t monsters. And umm, Nick’s a bit scary. Just, just relax. And come meet them.”
He headed for the side of the building, where the pipes bringing water to the building had been sheared off. Nick had stopped, but at his wave started the truck again.
Ron trailed, looking apprehensive.
Nick stepped out of the truck and eyed Ron. Looked at Lou. “One of your friendly ones?”
“Yep. Sergeant Ron Matthis, Nick . . . Whatever.”
Nick grinned. “If we’re being formal, Azho Withione.”
“Ouch!” One of the other soldiers winced. “I hope that’s an unfortunate word that means something completely different in another language.”
“Nope. I was named by people who hated me. So, Nick, please.” The Oner walked over to the exposed pipes and nodded. “That will be your water line and the larger one sewage. Once you start using water, there’s going to be a problem. But let’s check if I’ve got pipes and fittings the right size. I brought a bunch . . .”
The soldiers jumped cheerfully in to help.
“We do field exercises, disaster relief work, and fixing stuff like this is right up our alley.”
“We’ll keep it all above the hard limestone, not to mention over here on a down slope away from your water supply . . .Holy Toledo! How do you do that!” The soldiers lined up and stared at Nick as he cut and lifted a long rectangle of grass and soil.
Ron looked from the hole to the young man. “Uh . . . do it again?”
The rather amused Nick didn’t seem to mind digging ditches for a sewage drain field. He caught Lou’s eye and grinned. “I’m taking notes. I wasn’t sure how to proceed, back home, on the one we need.”
By nightfall they had running water and flushing toilets. It seemed amazingly decadent, after weeks of, well, squatting in the grass.
Chapter Fifty-three
Black Horse Recruiters
7 Rajab 1400 nyp
"Minister Wmcu. Good to see you recovering." Captain Ahco braced himself. The man had been out of the docbox for two days and Ahco had heard enough to realize he wasn't pleased with the situation.
"Rumor has it that you are cooperating with that criminal." MacU scowled. "Captain Ijje has told me all about it."
Ahco nodded. "Now that he's got most of his troops back on their feet, he's strengthened the wall and has roving teams keeping their eyes on the Earthers. They won't surprise us again."
Nick's potion had had its usual effect on the troops, instant cures of the stomach problems, and even broken bones healed well enough for light duty by the next day. The worst of the burn victims . . . looked better. The docs were spooked.
"They tried something yesterday, Ijje said."
"Yes. Nick didn't approve of their getting near his people and stopped them cold. He's . . . useful to have on our southern flank . . . for now." And forever, you stupid ass. "In any case, with your Ministry Guards on the wall, I've put my people out hunting. I think we can easily supply everyone with meat. If we can keep your fabs running for nutritional balance we'll do well enough for the short term."
MacU crossed his arms and stared. "And the long term?"
"The civilians are starting to get into the pioneering spirit. We'll see how long that lasts . . . but I need to get them out of those apartment towers. I've got enough water pressure to supply the apartments, but there's no electricity for the elevators or kitchens. Or lights. But the clinic is running smoothly. So long as the gasoline holds out." Less than a day's worth left. I need to send someone to the Red Zone . . . but what do we have to trade?
"I need that gas for the fabs."
"And the docboxes, sir. Exactly. So I'll be encouraging people to move out. Build cabins and plant gardens."
Narrowed eyes. "I'll bet the Earther's have plenty."
Ahco braced himself. "The only long term answer is to find crude oil and refine it. Or alcohol. I think the generator we've got will also run on alcohol." He pulled out his pad of paper and a pen. "I'll make a note to hunt down all the 200 proof alcohol around and cut the gasoline with it."
"Or we could attack the Earthers."
"Sir, I made a quick head count, during our first assault. They have close to double our number of soldiers. We can defend our area, but attacking would be suicide."
"Bah. We have thousands of civilians. I want you to actively recruit at least another company, preferably two, and train them."
Ahco closed his eyes in disbelief. "Sir . . . I will get together with Captain Ijje, about a schedule and training equipment and ammunition. And further inquire of him about personnel with experience training recruits."
The doctor hustled in then, glaring at Ahco. "He needs to rest. Leave."
Ahco saluted the Minister and fled.
Think. We need hunters. I will . . . start recruiting hunters. Those familiar with guns . . . I'll recruit for this amazingly stupid . . . fuck it all, we're marooned on a planet full of resources and all we can do is shoot at each other?
Why? Does MacU think he can crown himself emperor and rule over a wilderness? I suspect that if the guards were active duty, they'd tell him to take a hike.
Maybe by the time he has enough troops to be dangerous he'll have regained his senses.
He veered over to a bunch of guys standing around the outdoor grilling area. "So . . . any of you guys ever hunted?"
Chapter Fifty-four
The Warrior and the Princess
8 Rajab 1400 ne
Nick rounded up people to join him on another raid on the flattened hardware store for more pipe, and hunted through the debris of the garden department tools, seeds and even some surviving plants.
The women pounced on the fruit trees.
The men split the little seed packets among the gardeners and then cleaned up.
"Not," Nick pointed out, "that Umaya—and probably all the rest—won't have me digging holes for the trees."
Gamer snorted. "As if we can't dig our own holes? Just because women didn't get proper Warrior training doesn't mean we don't know plenty of magic."
Nick grinned. "And probably wider applications of magic than mere warriors." His attention jerked to a woman dismounting from a horse he hadn't noticed approaching. My Princess. He kicked himself mentally. Not mine, dammit.
"Princess Deip. How may we help you?"
"Actually, we've been discussing magic as well. Specifically, training both the guards and the civilians in defensive and offensive magic." She shrugged. "I figured we should try to rope in a Warrior, since we've got one handy."
"Yeah! Us too!" Hakim raised his hands and gathered power.
Zog copied him and his palms glowed. He yipped in surprise and shook his hands like they were wet.
Nick quickly redirected the shower of little fireballs into the cooking fire. Zog dodged back behind Hakim, but he was too late to avoid notice. Of the Princess. Neither dog had seen any of the magic. Diego was sitting up alertly. Lady Fang was flopped on the ground beside him.
Dipper was standing with her mouth open in horror. Shut it, put on her poker face.
Marco and Enuf were nodding. A couple of the women looked hopeful.
"I never much tried." Enuf shrugged. "But you know, even the little I've picked up from you is pretty handy."
"Right." Nick looked around. "The lessons ought to be taught on bedrock, so there's a power sink available."
Dipper nodded. "Pretty much straight out from the apartments there's a limestone outcrop at the crest of a hill."
"I'll check it out tomorrow morning. Perhaps Captain Ahco could send out a few people he wants trained and we can . . . figure out how best to do this." He glanced over at the boys. "A beginners class before school, perhaps. And intermediate after that?"
Gamer crossed her arms and glowered.
"And perhaps a class in advanced battle magic, for people who are strong and already well trained." Nick grinned. "Although the thought of Umaya with a hundred meter punch is a bit scary."
Gamer tried to glare, but a bit of a smile leaked through.
:: You already know damn near everything. A couple of days training and practice, and you'll be utterly terrifying. ::
Nick stepped closer to Dipper. "What training do the Presidential Guard Princesses get? Or does that Princess School train all their students?"
"None of us have any experience teaching magic." She backed away, leading the horse, and walked beside him. Glanced back.
Nick nodded. "Yes. I recognized him. He's safer here, where he's just one more kid, than heavily guarded in a war zone. He's calling himself Zog, and thinks himself well hidden. The dog hasn't bitten anyone yet."
