Scrambled, page 9
part #14 of Directorate Series
"They're checking us out now. Someone is up there with binocs."
Chapter Twenty-one
The Gang’s All Here
13 Jumada 1400 nyp
"Black Horse Guards. Oh bloody Hell." Nick lowered the glasses.
"Versalle? Have we got Versalle here with us!" Qamer bit her lip. "It was southwest of the Red Zone . . . "
"About right to be the tip of the last vane." Nick looked the other way. "They'll be heading toward Government House. Let's swing around to the west and worry about them later."
He closed his eyes and reached mentally to the north. :: Fatima! Mona! If you hear me, swing wide to the west. We are coming. ::
He checked that the Black Horse Guards were still heading north, then followed Gamer down the stairs.
They drove past a long stretch of half empty tide pools, cut across desolate sand and rock back into the grasslands and turned north.
More Earth buildings to the right, tide pools ahead . . . and two vehicles bumping across desolation to the left. Filled with familiar auras.
Gamer steered for them and stopped nose to nose with the van driven by the beaming Mona. Fatima pulled up beside them, and everyone debarked for a round of hugging and kissing.
Fatima sniffed. "I hope you know what's going on, young man! I spotted a dinosaur! One of those duck billed things!"
Gamer turned and looked at him. "I never did ask. Do you know what happened?"
Nick nodded. "Sort of. You all know about how we nuked the Earth's gate, and gates haven't worked right since?"
"The government says there's no relationship between gate tests and earthquakes." Umaya sniffed.
"Except I think there is, but it's whenever either One or Earth tests them now. The Earth finally got a gate to attach in East Plaza. There was a big battle, and a guy got through to the other side and set some charges on their gate. When they went off, all this weird stuff happened."
"A guy?"
"The one I told you about. Who said he was a Directorate Agent from a close parallel One World." Nick shrugged. "Personally? I'm getting out of here. Off into the wilds where if this stuff all goes back where it belongs, I won't go with it."
The women looked around . . .
"Good idea." Meisha waved at their vehicles. "We threw a lot into the cars, but in great haste. We'll inventory what we grabbed, but we'd better plan on scavenging for a few supplies. Especially for the seeds of domesticated crops."
Nick nodded, grinned. "I think you just volunteered to plan out everything we need."
"Humph!" Umaya rolled her eyes. "As if we'd leave anything this important in the hands of a Warrior! We'll need allies. We should go talk to those people in the Red Zone."
Nick gulped. How many of those women am I going to have to face . . .
Gamer grinned. :: All of them. And the winos and bikers. ::
He swallowed. "The Red Zone. Good idea. Let's follow our tracks back to our camp and start talking to people."
But he detoured and cut across between the vanes"8" and "7."
Something that might be the collapsed roof of the Black Horse arena was indeed out at the end of vane 7. Then it changed to a small, dense forest that thinned out into a different sort of grassland that ended at the lichen covered rocks. He was halfway across the strip when he spotted the buildings tucked into the forest. And the people watching him. Women.
They parked at what he hoped was a respectful distance and Meisha walked up to talk to them, turned and waved them in.
"They're miners' families. Wives working in the mining company offices here." Meisha waved at the buildings.
One woman edged forward and eyed them cautiously. "The Earthers all drove off, trying to get home. We stayed. It looked more dangerous to go. Have you seen any men, any miners?"
Nick sincerely hoped the men they kicked out of camp weren't any of their husbands. "There was a guy with purple hair. Rude, we kicked him out of our camp. We'll ask around."
"Or you can come with us. I'd guess it's seven kilometers to the next patch of your world." Meisha looked at the three packed vehicles and frowned.
"I'll walk." Nick looked southward. "I'd like to scout out what's happened to Versalle."
:: Be careful! Use an illusion! :: Gamer looked worried.
***
Versalle was a mess.
Nick eyed the collapsed ruins of what had once been the homes of the Black Horse Guards.
Turned away to eye the only half-collapsed stables. And started back with a burst of adrenaline.
The young woman was pointing a rifle in his general direction, but not ready to shoot. Studying him.
How did she get so close without my noticing her?
He eyed her Presidential Guard uniform and cleared his throat. "Hi. Umm, I guess Versalle isn't going to rescue us all, is it?"
"We've got people out . . . searching."
Ha! "Checking on the president, first, I'll bet." He swept a look around. "No vehicles left?"
"Protecting the president is our job." She shrugged. "Some of us went out while things were still coming and going, and some since it settled down. But Government House may or may not have come through. Where are you from?"
"The Red Zone. I got up high enough to get a good look. There are eight of these curved vanes radiating out from a really mixed up center. Each vane has swatches of four worlds." He gestured over his shoulder. "One World is the third patch on that vane, and on the far side the second patch looked like those big apartment towers on Yusef. Good engineering, they're still standing."
"So the vane beyond that might have another chunk of home?"
"Yeah. Haven't been there. My first priority was finding family."
"I don't suppose you've found any doctors?"
"No . . . I have a potion with healing spells imbedded in it, if you've got injured people." Nick glanced aside at movement. A foursome of black horses eyed them, then limped away. "I don't know if it'll work on horses."
"Well, come on in and talk to the boss. It's . . . beginning to look like we're marooned here."
The boss was an older woman, glowing despite a firm shield. Trained Princess! Oh Hell, they all are.
"I'm Myyk—call me Mike. And that's Muuz, call her Cow . . . "
Nick blinked at the third princess. "Sure, whenever I feel suicidal."
His . . . guide snickered. "I'm Diep. Dipper. And you are . . . ?"
He sighed and looked them over. Might as well dive in!
"Look . . . the Red Zone is full of whores, pimps, winos . . . A whole pack of Skinners, complete with bikes . . . until they run out of gas." He bit his lip. "If you are willing to treat us all as blank slates, prove ourselves honest or untrustworthy . . . or dangerous . . . we can all work together. If you're going to carry on like cops, forget it. We'll go our way, and you can attack us at your peril."
"Oh? And what category do you fit into?"
"Mass murderer." He banished the illusion.
The three women recoiled, the casually held guns were suddenly not casual.
"You're Azho, the Priest."
"I am not and never have been a priest. I was assaulted and mutilated, and fought to keep my mind, my personality, my self intact and get my family out of there and away from those sick leeches. I have attempted to live honestly since."
He gave them a minute to think it over.
"Call me Nick. Now, you want this healing potion or not?"
Dipper frowned. "Why aren't you afraid of us?"
Nick kept his voice gentle. "Because there are only three of you, and my shields are more than strong enough to deal with that caliber of weapon."
Mike stepped forward and hit his shield. Felt it, walked around him. "All right, I'm impressed with a dome shield of that size and strength. But you are still the worst of criminals. One! Is your sister here?"
Nick growled, raised his voice a bit. "Gamer was holding the whole freaking building up. Everyone got out alive because she stood there in plain sight of the police holding it up! And you tried to kill her! You are idiots." He sidestepped and picked a paper cup up off the ground. Blown here from who knows where. It looked clean. He shrugged off his back pack and fished out the jam jar of potion. Half a cup in the paper cup. He reached through his shield and set it down.
"It spreads to other wine, if you need more." Nick turned and walked away.
That didn't go well. We won't be able to stay anywhere near the Red Zone.
Chapter Twenty-two
The Ministry of War
13 Jumada 1400 nyp
The slices of odd territory ended at a broad circle of chaotic mixes of worlds.
"That red brick . . . might be the East Plaza." Captain Ahco looked right. "Those are the high-rise apartments down Yusef . . . and across the mess, that might be a slice of the police building, and those are the Ministry of War buildings . . . The office tower looks bad, the rest are still mostly standing."
"And nothing but grass, where Government House ought to be." Wiz rode up beside him. "What shall we check first?"
"Ministry first, to see if there's any part of the government around . . . then we'll check the apartments." He turned Panther and trotted out. It was only a kilometer or so across the chaos, but they had to detour around several drying tide pools and the stubby remains of walls. Then he started seeing people . . .
And recognized the man giving orders at the ministry site, or rather, standing with his arms crossed, radiating irritation. The people doing the actual work seemed to be getting on without bothering him. Black uniforms, red piping. Ministry Guards. Mostly ex-military.
Ahco slid off and handed his reins to Wiz. "Minister Wmcu?"
"That's pronounced Mac You." The man turned, irritated frown giving way to raised eyebrows as he took in Ahco's uniform and the horses. "Black Horse! What the hell has happened? Where is everyone?"
Ahco looked north. Where there was a notable absence of Government House. "I suspect, sir, that they are where they belong, and that we have been transplanted to a world that, at least locally, has a lot of grasslands. Now, do you have people still trapped? Show me . . . "
MacU huffed and waved at the half collapsed building. "We can tell that there are still people alive under there . . . but we don't have the heavy equipment we need."
Ahco waved in the rest of the troops. "Park the horses. Let's see if we can slice our way in."
Because the Black Horse Guards are some of the best Magic users in the Army. Unlike the huge number of Ministry Guards, who are mostly Halfers and Servaones, and a few powerful officers. Retired from the army, and taking up a cushy job.
Magic slice and levitation got holes through three slabs of concrete, and with some sideways slices they helped the last of the trapped crawl out. One of the workers had organized triage, and the worst were carted off immediately.
"There's a working hospital?"
"No, but there's a clinic and three doctors who live here came in to do what they can. We got two docboxes out of the clinic here, that weren't damaged . . . too much. Added them to the Yusef Street Clinic's single docbox." The guard brushed off his very much not immaculate dress uniform. "And they're working fine. We need more. Just hope the worst heal quickly. Life is going to get nasty fast once the generators run out of fuel and everything, the docboxes included, stops working."
"Right." Ahco looked around. Wiz and Booze looked beat. They were the strongest magically, and had done the lion's share of the slicing and levitating. The rest were in good shape. "Right. Let's see what we can do to help there, and check out the apartment towers."
Panther spooked as he mounted. He grabbed leather and stayed aboard, hauled the horse around to face . . . a dinosaur. Bipedal. Head-to-tail it was a good five meters. It lowered its head like a bull threatening to charge, but it only had a big bulbous skull . . .
"That's a Packy-something-or-other." Igloo pushed his mount up closer to Ahco. "Scientists think they charge and bash heads like rams. Umm, I think it's a herbivore."
"Right . . . if one . . . or more . . . of these worlds are full of dinosaurs . . . we're in trouble." Ahco eyed the Packy. It seemed to lose interest in them, and walked over to sample a bush. "Right. We'll stick to rescue right now, and . . . keep one man on watch for dinosaurs or other predators. Hi? Get on the radio to Mike and tell her we've got dinosaurs." He turned Panther away and headed for the still standing towers.
Across the street from the towers, the three surgeons manning the neighborhood clinic begged him to find a pharmacy.
"We need antibiotics, painkillers, and bandages. Pretty much in that order."
The towers, without power or water, and missing a lot less window glass than he expected, were not going to stay habitable for long.
Most of the inhabitants refused to believe that and stubbornly refused to move "Until the world goes back where it belongs! I'm not leaving my stuff, and that's final. And on your way out, tell the super that he'd better get my power back on pretty damn quick!"
"They'll come down soon enough." Ahco flopped on a convenient slab of concrete. "We need to find a good source of water, and start thinking about food."
"Umm, umm. Pachysaurus steaks!" Wiz eased down beside him. "There's a small stream two klicks thata way. I watered the horses."
Ahco levered himself up and climbed a pile of rubble. "Right. Seventeen of us at Versalle. Several hundred Oners around here."
"Thousand. I've been trying to keep a tally. A bit more than five thousand in all these towers."
"One! Right. I didn't see any people outward of these two strips. So let's think about how to secure them."
"We have enough rubble for walls. Keep the outer face close to vertical and the whole thick enough that a dinosaur can't push it over . . . "
"Right. Did Hi get ahold of Myyk?"
"Oh yes. The good news is they've got everyone on their feet. The bad news is that another chunk of Home that came along is part of the Red Zone. And—brace yourself—Azho's here."
Chapter Twenty-three
The Search for Water
13 Jumada 1400 nyp
By morning the office ladies were so thirsty they headed out, dinosaurs or no dinosaurs.
With every possible vessel in the building. Coffee pots and mugs. Trash cans. Two big, wheeled, garbage bins that very badly needed to be scrubbed. Disposable drinking cups. Discarded beverage bottles.
Lou took point . . . and headed away from the dinosaur swamp.
We want cleaner water than that . . . and I hope we don't get thirsty enough to not care anymore.
They circled the block, first. Stepping off the alley that ran up the east side when the boundary got too close to the edge . . . the northeast corner of the building was shaved off. just missing a few centimeters . . . it looked like it never got deeper than the façade, then clipped off a chunk of the roof.
Lou looked back . . . Two hundred and eighty-eight people. About three quarters women. About half over fifty. And I left the three in wheelchairs and the five with canes behind to guard the building. I ought to have left more.
The back of the building faced a small parking lot. Seven cars.
That one is Sergeant Baldwin's . . . I'll search his desk and see if I can find keys, but like as not it works on implanted ID.
He looked over his shoulder and raised his voice. "Anyone know who the cars belong to? A couple of the execs, maybe? Where the heck are they?"
A laugh from the disorganized mob following him. "They were invited to watch the glorious army advancing to destroy the One World."
"Probably dead."
"Maybe they just aren't here."
"We ought to go look at the gate area . . ."
Lou turned his back on the babble of speculation, and walked across the lot. It looked like ninety percent of the Department of Native Education and Training’s executive office building had made the transition . . . before partially collapsing.
He eyed the interior from a safe distance. No reason to expect them to have hoarded water. No bodies in sight, that's good. And if they had sense enough to run for a normal looking place, they're safe at home.
He walked on . . . to a half empty tide pool, barnacles on rough rocks, slimy seaweed starting to stink. More dead fish . . . he detoured around a very large shark, even though of course it was dead. He dabbed fingers in a bit of water caught in a stone basin and tasted.
"Salt water." He stepped off the narrow slice of tide pool and walked to the end of it . . . the end of the displaced land. Grass stretched in all directions. A few stands of trees . . . hills in the distance . . . a darker line of vegetation to the northwest. Trees or brush along a stream?
He pointed. "I think that's our best bet, for fresh water."
A mass groan from behind him.
"Any of you who don't think you can make the hike there and back, and carry water back, please return to Main Accounting." He didn't wait for an answer, just forged ahead through the tall grass.
Lou was heartily sick of grass and rough hummocky ground by the time they found the ravine. Not much water flowing, but some deep pools that looked . . . not horrible. They drank their fill, and filled containers, and drank more. Scrubbed the garbage bins with swatches of grass, and filled them. Dumped out half the water, and still had trouble getting the big bins out of the ravine.
Harrison straightened his back. "It's going to be a slow trip back. Why don't I take half the people ahead and get them back inside the building. Then I can come back and help with the garbage bins."
Everyone turned suddenly at the sound of motors. Motor bikes roaring straight at them. Halting close enough for both sides to get a good look at each other. Far enough away to make a gun fight unlikely. One guy finally got off his bike and walked forward.
"So, where are you people from?"
"Main Accounting . . ." Lou trailed off as he took in the mans weird clothing. "Earth . . . "
