Ashes, Ashes: The Chronicles of Altor, page 27
Steele didn’t interrupt her. He knew that such situations were almost certainly happening in various pockets across the country, but this was the first time he’d actually heard the specifics.
“I was unable to concoct a plan that would have allowed me to retrieve Van and free those who are being held prisoner. I’m calling because I don’t know if you have the ability to help with that situation or not, but you’re the only person I know who might.”
Steele thought about the request. His first instinct was that if the Army was still at Dust City, they would have jumped at the opportunity to help someone. They had long since departed, though, and he had no way to contact them.
He thought of the weaponry in Dust City. Now that the tunnel was finished and both people and equipment could come and go, it was at least possible that something could be put together. It was complicated though.
All big things and ideas were complicated.
“I’m going to have to look into this before I can give you an answer.”
“I knew you would, General. Can I give you the location where they’re being held prisoner in case you’re able to help?”
“Of course,” Steele said, pulling a small notebook from his pocket. A few seconds later, he said, “Got it. Thank you, Nyx, for reporting in. I’ll let you know the answer when I know it.”
“Thank you, General.”
The line went dead.
He returned to the meeting, still in progress and explained what the call was about.
Marshall picked up on the challenges and possibilities immediately and began to make notes on the tablet in front of him. He raised a hand and said, “I don’t think any of us can make this call, can we?”
“You’re right,” Steele agreed. “We should bring Harrison in on this, she’s been in charge of everything to do with defense and security since we got caught over here.”
“Quinn, of course,” Marshall said, then added “and Janus.”
All four exchanged a look that covered entire conversations without saying a word.
Steele shrugged his agreement.
Marshall called, “Janus?”
“Yes?”
“Can you see if Quinn and Myla can join us on a call? And you, of course.”
“Of course,” Janus agreed. The large screen on the wall lit up. Initially, there was only Janus’s face, but within a minute Quinn Starkweather and Myla Harrison had joined.
Steele quickly brought Quinn and Harrison up to speed. He was fully aware that Janus already knew everything and, in all likelihood, had already decided what the outcome would be.
Quinn also seemed aware of that. In a normal situation, as the head of Altor, he would have just laid out what he wanted to happen. In this case, he said, “I’d like to see us do this if we can. Harrison, what do you think?”
Harrison squinted, rolling the question over in her mind. “We don’t have a lot of trained security personnel here in the dome. We mostly rely on cameras, drones, and, well, Janus.”
“We don’t have a lot in the way of military personnel here, either,” Steele confirmed. “We’ve basically been wiped out.”
“I have a solution,” Janus said. “It can mostly be mechanical, with a human assist.”
All eyes turned to the face of the AI on their screens.
“Since we had the close call with old-fashioned weapons attacking the dome, I’ve been working on that problem. I knew that the tunnel would open soon and we would be able to deploy what I’m working on.”
The ramifications of where Janus was going settled in on everyone. The artificial intelligence that ran everything in their lives was about to announce that it was building weapons. On its own, with no human supervision.
“I’ve had some of our human techs work on building mechanical beings that are capable of doing very fine work. Those machines have been busy building weapons to my specifications. They are not all ready yet, but many of them are. They are not completely autonomous at this time. For now, they will still need humans to operate them. That will change over time. But for now, a very small force—say only three or four humans—could attack a stronghold like you describe with these weapons and effectively destroy the target without any loss of life to us or the prisoners.”
That was a lot for everyone to absorb. While they were doing just that, the faces on the monitor disappeared and a photo appeared. It was the compound where Van had been held, obviously taken from a satellite.
“Using the information I have now, we could dispatch this small team to the area, rescue the prisoners, and be back here in a number of days.”
“Did you already have this picture on file?” Steele asked.
“I heard the location that Nyx gave you. This is a live feed.”
Everyone leaned toward their own monitors to look more closely. Sure enough, upon closer inspection, small dots of people and animals could be seen to be moving.
“You still have access to satellites that give you this information?” Quinn asked.
“I do. I have for some time. It will aid us greatly on missions like this.” The picture of the compound disappeared and was replaced by another. “Also this.”
It was a shot of a town that looked mostly destroyed. People were working to build a wall around it. The shot changed to an industrial building. “The Army is rebuilding this town. They are also repairing this fuel production plant. This is a logical first step toward restarting civilization. This is what I have been waiting for. I am going to dispatch some of the equipment we stored underground to assist them with the rebuild.”
Quinn held his hand up, though no one could see that at the moment, as his face was gone from the screen. “Hold on,” he said, and his picture reappeared alongside Harrison. “That’s a lot to absorb. Let’s take it one at a time. The good news is that you’ve got some weapons that can help us with this problem in Utah. I have a question, though. How are we going to get these weapons and people there, and then return them here?”
“I have diesel trucks stored in the underground, along with a diesel people carrier. I know that there are enough qualified drivers in Dust City to get the vehicles there and back. Those people would be easy to train to help launch the weapons at Samuel Harris’s compound in Utah.”
Marshall shook his head. “That won’t work. Diesel is no good anymore. It all goes bad in less than a year.”
“Your diesel goes bad in less than a year. I’ve been storing diesel underground in ideal conditions and have been consistently having the proper additives stirred in. We have more than enough fuel to last us until fuel begins to be produced again. We will need to carry some fuel with us to allow for the trip there and back, but that is a simple manner.”
“As usual, you have it all figured out,” Quinn said with a straight face. “Can you tell us more about this fuel processing plant? That seems like big news. Where is it?”
“It is in Northern California, just a few miles away from a small community that was once known as Covington. There is a new pocket of civilization near to Covington that they have named New City. Now that I have satellite access again, I am able to better see the future. I see this area being the cradle of the new civilization that will come to be. That is why I am sending equipment to them, so we can speed the process up measurably.”
Quinn rubbed his hand across his forehead, fighting a ferocious headache. “Good. That’s all good, right?” He looked into his camera, trying to make eye contact with Marshall and Steele. “I think it’s time for you two to come home. I’ll send a transport over to get you first thing tomorrow morning. Bring the Armstrongs with you. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Quinn’s face disappeared from the screen. Harrison’s blinked out a moment later.
Steele turned and looked at Dani and Levi. “I guess you two are going to be in charge a little sooner than we thought.”
Dani nodded. “We’re ready. And you’ll only be a phone call away, right? I’ll tell the Armstrongs the good news.”
Almost two years earlier, Steele and Marshall had left for a quick one-hour visit to Dust City. Now the day had finally arrived. They were going home.
Chapter Forty-Two
The Rebuild
June and Ric rode across the newly reconstructed bridge toward what had once been Covington. They each had a horse that had been loaned to them for the day by two of the soldiers who were staying in New City.
There had been considerable wariness between New City and the Army. Most of that wariness was on the part of the citizens who lived behind the wall. The Army knew their intentions were pure and had no real reason to doubt the people of New City.
Over the next few weeks and months, those tensions eased. The first thing Lieutenant Forster did was rebuild the bridge. June and Forster thought it would be best for the Army and the engineers and workers they had brought with them to stay behind the wall. There was plenty of room now, and it was much more comfortable than the mostly destroyed Covington.
It took the engineers, soldiers, and volunteers from New City almost two weeks of working elbow to elbow to make the bridge safe. The man who served as the chief engineer on the project said he wouldn’t recommend driving semi-trucks or tanks over it yet, but that it would hold up fine to human and horse traffic.
June hadn’t been down to what had been Covington for many months. Not since she had ordered the victorious New City Army to put it to the torch.
She and Ric met Lieutenant Forster and Sergeant Brewster at the city limits. They dismounted and the four of them walked the city.
Forster had not been a great soldier initially. When the bombs had fallen, he had been too green to truly be a leader of men. He had good instincts, though, and understood that. By leaning on Brewster, who had the experience and gravitas to be that leader, he had learned and grown. Now, almost two years later, he was, if nothing else, a good organizer.
He had spent his evenings after working on the bridge walking through Covington. In conjunction with the engineers, he had put a plan together for rebuilding the town.
As the four of them walked through the town, Forster pointed out various projects they had planned, and what priority they would be. He pointed to a one-block area that had been completely razed. “This is where we’ll build the big building that will house all the workers and skilled people we’ll be bringing back from the base. I think this will be our highest priority.”
June, for whom simple survival had been the highest priority for so long she couldn’t remember anything else, disagreed. “I know the world is less violent right now,” she met Forster and Brewster’s eyes in turn, “but that is not because of a major shift in human perspectives or attitudes. It’s because so many of the hyper-violent have been killed and everyone is starting to run out of ammo. When the world rebuilds, those people will pop up again.”
“I can’t disagree with that,” Forster said. “But what does that mean to us?”
“It means that our highest priority is protecting the town. You want me to be more liberal about opening the gate to New City, but I won’t feel comfortable with that, knowing that you’re building an attractive nuisance here with very little defense. I think your first priority should be to build a wall around the town, at least everywhere that there isn’t a natural geographic barrier.”
“That’s a big project,” Forster answered.
“You’re right, and you don’t have to do it,” June agreed. “But we will stay tight behind our own walls until that is completed.” She waved an arm at the woods that surrounded the town. “You won’t be lacking material. There are enough logs here to build hundreds of miles of wall. A simple wall won’t absolutely be enough to keep the town safe, but it’s a good start. When you’re able to bring more people and equipment here, that will make it safer yet.”
Brewster cleared his throat. “She’s right about the attractive nuisance, Lieutenant. If word spreads, and it will, that we have the ability to produce gasoline again, and we get the dam and power station functioning, people will be coming after us. With a target that desirable—basically becoming the king of the world—people will be willing to put their differences aside to attack us.”
Forster nodded. When his two strongest advisors agreed, he tended to follow their advice whether he agreed or not. “Okay, so if that becomes our priority, we’ll need more people. Do you have people who can help?”
“I’ll help,” Ric said. “Mom says it’s important, so I know it is.”
June laid a hand on her son’s shoulder. “We’ll give what we have, of course. But we’re still recovering from the virus. There just aren’t many of us left.”
“I’ll send a rider back to the base. When we left, we thought we would mostly need the brains of the different engineers. Now I see we need lots of strong backs, too. I don’t know if we can get more horses at the base, but if not, they can start walking. They’ll be here soon enough. In the meantime, we can begin taking down trees, stripping them, and getting them ready to use. It’ll take time, but you’re right. We’ll be more secure when it’s done.”
Forster dispatched a rider the next day. It soon became obvious that with their current labor force, they wouldn’t be able to get the job done before winter, which put construction of the rest of the projects off until the next spring.
Two months later, on the anniversary of the day the bombs fell across America, everything changed.
First, after months of work and a series of disappointments, the crew working on the fuel processing plant finally managed to get it functioning again. They sent a messenger back to Covington to let them know that they would be able to begin to process gasoline on at least a limited basis starting over the next few days.
For a world that had been reduced to walking or, at best, riding on horseback, that was the biggest news imaginable. It made everything else to come seem possible.
Almost as big as that, the same day, a crew arrived from Fort Teller. It was beyond anything Forster and Brewster had hoped for. When they were first spotted by a lookout posted several miles outside of town, there was so many of them it was thought they might be an invading force.
It turned out to be Colonel Brandt himself leading more than two hundred and fifty men. There were a dozen horses spread among them, but mostly, they were on foot.
Brandt led the column of men right up to the city limits of Covington. Forster, Brewster and most of their work crew met them there. They were out of uniform, dirty and disheveled, but they stood straight and snapped off salutes.
“At ease,” Brandt said.
“Surprised to see you here, sir,” Forster said.
“This seems like the place where everything is happening.” He glanced at the piles of trees that were stacked up where the town square had once been. “I left Captain Selden in charge of the base. I think we need a command center here, as well.”
Two days later, when the army was still figuring out how to best use and accommodate all the new manpower, the biggest surprise of all arrived.
An unusual sound came from the main highway that led into Covington. It was engines. Big, diesel engines in trucks pulling flatbeds loaded with various heavy equipment. Altogether, there were a dozen flatbeds and four tractor trailers, all loaded with machines and equipment that no one in Covington even dreamed of.
When the first truck pulled up to the town square, everyone gathered round, like kids waiting for Santa Claus. June and Ric were there, along with most of the Army and many of the townspeople of New City.
They did their best not to look like stone age residents gaping at modern technology, but that is what they felt like. There was a line of trucks and equipment in their town when everything they knew told them that trucks weren’t running anymore. Even overlooking that minor miracle didn’t explain who they were or what they were doing there.
The driver’s side door of the first truck swung open and a middle-aged man dropped to the ground. He put his hands on his lower back and stretched like someone who had made a long, weary drive.
“Can I ask who’s in charge here?”
The Army personnel present all pointed at Colonel Brandt. The New City residents pointed at June.
The man grinned a little and removed his sunglasses. “I’m Sky Hawkins, from Dust City, a suburb of Altor.”
Forster stepped forward. “Sky? What the heck are you doing here?”
“Lieutenant,” Sky said with a nod. “Good to see you. I wasn’t told you’d be here.”
“Ditto for you. I didn’t expect to ever see you or anyone else from Dust City again.”
“It’s kind of a long story, but I’ll make it short. You know that Artificial Intelligence that was running Altor and had its fingerprints all over Dust City, too?”
“Sure do.” Forster hadn’t had any chance to interact directly with Janus, but as Sky said, it was nearly omnipresent in the town.
“We thought Altor was just supposed to be some sort of ark. A place where a few thousand people could hide if everyone else blew the hell out of each other. Well, it was that, but it also had a lot of equipment hidden away in these underground caverns.”
“In Altor? I thought there was a time lock there. Did it open?”
“Nope,” Sky answered. “Still locked up tight. But, they did manage to get these trucks and equipment out.”
He didn’t elaborate, but Forster got the message.
“Anyway,” Sky drawled, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation in the midst of the apocalypse, “this AI, this Janus, thinks that what you folks are doing here is going to be the salvation of the world or some such. It called this place the cradle of the new world. Sounds like a lot of responsibility to me, but whatever. General Steele asked me and a bunch of us Dusters who used to be truck drivers if we’d deliver all this up to you.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the line of vehicles behind him. “So here we are.”
