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May 2011 Main Page Snapshot Excerpt Part 8
Could Indians Have Destroyed One of the 13 Colonies? Exchange Sequel
Comments Section Point Of Divergence is an amateur press magazine and also a forum for discussing AH and AH-related ideas. Here is my comment section. |
This
is part of the second installment of the still unnamed sequel to
Exchange, my published novel. At the end of Exchange two
hostile groups were stranded in "Bear Country", an alternate reality
where humans didn't make it through a stone-age
bottleneck. This is not much past the rought draft
stage, but reasonably readable.
I don't belong here. Woody felt that even more strongly at the council of elders meeting than he did normally. Leo West looked unconvinced as he said, "He's here because his knowledge of the country may give him insights the rest of us don't have. He has over three times as much time in-country as we do." “But he’s a convict,” Pierce said. “Anything he hears could get back to Sam Kittle.” Yeah, Sam Kittle and I are buds from way back, Woody thought. Person he most wants to stick a spear in. That’s me. He didn’t say anything though, and was allowed to stay after a desultory debate. He watched the video Sharon had intercepted from the mystery surveyor. The video made him uncomfortable, almost nauseous, though the view was typical Bear Country until near the end—mostly animals that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Midwestern wildlife preserve, but with a scattering of exotics like kangaroos, mammoths, ground sloths, the giant predatory bears that gave Bear Country its name, and the ubiquitous little green monkeys. The cut-off between Bear Country and the exchanged zone looked clean as a knife cut. The country went from green rolling hills dotted with trees to steep mounds coated with purple-black vines. Woody said, “Somehow I don’t think a piece of Illinois came to visit.” No one responded. The video cut off before the surveyor got far into the exchange zone. There wasn’t much to see in the exchange zone, just miles of desolate mounds covered with the ever-present vines. Pierce turned to Sharon. “You risked our last surveyor to get this, without authorization?” “It was worth a shot,” Sharon said. “At least we have a good idea how big the exchange is when we combine this with what our surveyor saw.” “And why is that important?” “Because it tells us if the river is likely to break through the section of exchange that blocked it,” Leo said. “Answer: probably not for at least a week unless there is a low path we haven’t spotted.” The conversation moved on to other questions, and Woody tuned out, focusing enough to get the essentials of the discussions. How should they react to the actions of the surveyor? The consensus: not enough knowledge about the capabilities and intentions of the mystery surveyor to know how to react, beyond obvious things like drills on getting to the storm shelters quickly and mounting the heavy machine gun as an anti-aircraft gun. “The key is to not shoot first,” Leo said. “Not only because it might start a fight when we don’t have to, but also because it shows our hand. If they’re hostile, we want them wondering what we have as long as possible.” The discussion moved on to if and how they should explore the exchange zone. Sister West said, “We have to, but cautiously. They have defenses, as they proved by shooting down our surveyor. And even if we could walk in and search the area, we shouldn’t. Too much chance of bringing back diseases or other pests. Wouldn’t have to even be human diseases to mess us up. A crop disease would do it too.” “But we can’t sit here and wait for them to hammer us,” Pierce said. “We have to get a handle on who they are and what they want. We also need to know if we can get the water back where it belongs, and if it’s building up to be a threat to us.” “Didn’t say we shouldn’t explore,” Sister West said. “Just said we use caution. Also, since someone who may be hostile knows where we are we need to move up the timetable on Fort Refuge.” One of the buzz-cut guys scowled. “That’s not for public consumption.” “It’s not exactly a secret,” Woody said. “You’re worried about having all your eggs in one basket. One tornado and you’re finished here. One hailstorm. One disease outbreak. One of anything bad knocks you on your butts hard enough you never get up, as long as everything’s here. But dividing your forces makes you more vulnerable. So you find a spot close enough you can help each other, but far enough away that one of anything isn’t likely to knock you out both places. I would have known that, even if it wasn’t on the grapevine.” Leo grinned ruefully. “We’re essentially a small town. News travels fast in a small town.” He turned to Woody. “That doesn’t mean you need to know the how, the when and the where. We’ll call you if we need you again.” ***** “You made it into the inner sanctum.” Dave strolled over as Woody cloed the council chamber door behind him. “Yeah, briefly.” Dave grinned. “Impressed with yourself?” “Nope.” “Impressed with the council?” “Sister West and Leo, yeah. Who wouldn’t be? The rest, not really.” They sauntered out into the April afternoon. “See anything I shouldn’t know about?” Dave asked. “No. Actually, nothing they even asked me to keep secret.” Woody described the video. When he finished, he added, “It’s creepy to look at, and I’m not sure why.” “The old film masters could creep their audiences out with light and shadows,” Dave said. “They knew how to play people.” “I don’t think they’re human. The video probably works for them.” Woody surveyed the fort. “People are too comfortable here. Feeling too safe. Even after the surveyor, they’re sloppy. It isn’t safe here. My guys could—“ He let the sentence trail off. Dave peered at him. “How much of that guy is still in there? Do you even know? Play a role long enough and it sinks its tentacles into you. A month or two, you can do that and still be the same person. Ten months, that’s close to the limit. Of course sociopaths can do it forever. You’re a murderer. Are you a sociopath?” Dave sounded interested rather than judgmental. “What am I? A lab experiment?” “Nope. A test of how strong-willed people change when they’re around people nothing like them. When is the last time you dropped the F-bomb?” “I—“. Woody paused. A good nine months ago. “Haven’t felt the need.” “Sure you have. I bet it was a third of your word count when you were with the Aryan Kings. But nobody says it here and people react when you do, and your lizard brain notices, even if your mind doesn’t. And you act more like the people around you every day because the lizard brain says it’s dangerous to be different. People won’t help you if you’re different. People steal from you and don’t care if you’re different. So you try to stop being different.” Dave grinned. “We’re herd animals. We want to be like the rest of the herd, deep down, below where our thoughts can get at it.” “I couldn’t be one of them if I tried, and I’m not trying.” “Your mind says that, the conscious part. But that’s just part of your brain, the suds floating on top. Lots of stuff happening below those suds. You and me, we can’t be part of the herd. I’m the college guy with the doctorate in weird animals. You’re the murderer. So we can’t be part of it, but we want to. We sit on the fringes, talking with nothing in common, because then we aren’t sitting alone with our lizard brains screaming at us not to be different.” “Wow! That’s quite a head game you’re laying on me,” Woody said. “Change of subject: They don’t have defenses at the edge of the exchange.” “The…” Dave paused. “What should we call them? The Others?” “Sounds Twilight Zone.” “That’s where we are, my friend. So the Others don’t have defenses at the perimeter. How do they keep Bear Country animals from hitching a ride back?” Woody thought about that. “There’s something I haven’t told anyone here. We—the convicts—we didn’t break out of prison when we got exchanged to Bear Country. The marines took us out, all of us, guards, prisoners, people from the farmhouses unlucky enough to come over with us. There were a few women. There were kids. There were even a couple of old farmers wandering around on their canes. They took us all out to Bear Country and burned everything they could, then doused everything with chemical, gases.” “Why?” “The flu, or something similar. People started dying from it, and they didn’t want it going back with us. So we didn’t go back. They didn’t let us.” “What happened to the marines and guards and women?” Dave asked. “Flu hit the marines and guards harder than it hit us. We figured that as they got weaker they would see where things were headed and shoot us down while they still could. So we jumped them before they jumped us.” “And the women?” “Didn’t last,” Woody said. “You’d think they would have. They were scarce and valuable, and fought over. Some committed suicide. Some got caught in the crossfires. Eventually there weren’t any left to fight over. That didn’t stop the fighting, of course.” “The kids? Old people?” “If they had something we wanted, we took it,” Woody said. “What happened to them then? We were too busy staying alive to notice. I suppose they died. Any large group we would have found. One or two… “ He shook his head. “Bear Country country has too many ways to kill you, and no matter how tough and smart you are, you have to sleep.” “And nobody cared?” “Prisons aren’t full of caring people anyway, and what there is goes away when you’re scrambling for moldy bread-crusts. I figured we’d all die over here eventually. I wondered if I would be the last. I wanted to be, but was afraid of it too.” Woody stopped, mentally kicking himself for saying so much. Never show your weakness or they’ll turn on you. “There is a point to all of this, right?” Dave said. “Something to do with the others?” “Yeah. Maybe they get everybody out before the exchange, and wire something to firebomb the whole area before the exchange reverses.” Dave didn’t look surprised. “Could be. We’ve seen surveyor pictures that could be from something like that—burned out circles from the exchanges—ones we know weren’t with our reality, and dead streaks downwind for anywhere from twenty to sixty miles.” “Up to sixty miles.” Woody stared off to the southwest. “Prevailing winds coming in from directly over the exchange zone. And I’m guessing we’re less than sixty miles from it.” “Maybe forty-five,” Dave said. “I’m sure Leo West and company are thinking about that. No guarantees that’s the way it’ll play out. They could be really good at hiding their defenses. They could have some energy field. They could have good enough long-range defenses that they don’t need fences and guys standing on the perimeter.” “But releasing something right before the exchange ends is the way to bet,” Woody said. “Unfortunately, that it is.” **** Sharon left the council meeting shortly after Woody, when it went into executive session. She heard enough before she left to understand the worry over a weapon of mass destruction, to be triggered near the end of the exchange. She wandered outside and looked for Bethany. Her daughter was lurking near the high board fence that separated the no go area from the the rest of the settlement. Sharon strolled over. “No cracks big enough to see much unless you get close, and then the guards shoo you away. I’ve tried.” “They’re digging for our future. For what happens when our machines break.” One of the guards on the nearest watchtower yelled, “Visitors!” Sharon spotted three men riding toward them on tough little mustangs, descendants of the old North American ice age horses rather than European ones, and much more difficult to handle. The three men carried white flags. Sharon recognized Sam Kittle’s tall form on one of the horses. The convict leader spotted Sharon seconds later and smiled at her. She didn’t return the smile. Leo and the rest of the elders showed up near the fence as the convicts approached. Sam nodded to them. He gestured toward the river, now reduced to puddles with trickles of water between them. “You lost your river.” “We know where it is,” Leo said. “I do too,” Sam said. “That brings up questions we need to hash out.” “Nothing to hash out,” Leo said. “Release the women you kidnapped from Rockport and we’ll treat you like just another town. Until then, we have nothing to say to you.” Sam surveyed Fort Eegan. “There was a time you could have rescued them. But you didn’t. And now we’ve moved on. Water over the dam. Facts on the ground. Baby bumps. The pitter-patter of little feet. Proud daddies.” Sharon said, “Women screaming every night when your men rape them, I imagine. There was a time when the kid I knew would have tried to stop that.” A shadow flickered over Sam’s face, gone so quickly Sharon wasn’t sure it had really been there. “More babies than women screaming these days. I feel like I’m running a day care.” “You were in charge and you let it happen,” Sharon said. “Anna Morgan could have stopped it, and she let it happen too.” Sam made an impatient gesture. “And now we have visitors. There are a couple thousand people on this continent, maybe in this version of the world. Are we going to fight over things it’s too late to change, or are we going to figure out how to handle what’s coming at us?” “What do you think is coming at us?” Leo asked. “Something not human, but just as smart, maybe more so.” Sam rode up to the fence and stared down at them. “Maybe we’re already dead, just waiting for some scale-headed thingus to push a button. Maybe we’re about to get hit with peace on earth and an end to old age—everything we want handed to us. And maybe it’s up to us. Are we smart and brave enough to come away with knowledge and power?” “What do you want from us?” Sharon asked. “Common sense stuff. We’re going in—going to find out what the other reality sent us. You will too. I figure first boot on the ground owns the piece of territory until it moves on. We don’t go within a hundred yards of each other without asking. That way we don’t get fights we don’t want. If there is plenty of something useful we share. If we find anything dangerous, we tell each other about it. If we run into something that wants to chat, we don’t chat with them as you or us. We team up.” Sharon glanced at Leo. His face gave nothing away. He has to be wondering if he should tell them there may be bio/gas/nuke defenses in there. If he doesn’t Sam and company could trigger them. If Sam does know, he might grab whatever it is, and use it against us. Leo said, “We won’t try to stop you from going in there, and we won’t start a fight if you do, but you would be better off leaving it to us. We have biohazard gear. You don’t.” Sam shrugged. “Everyone in my crew should have died a dozen times since the exchange. We aren’t afraid to take chances.” “Is that all you wanted?” Sister West asked. “Nope.” Sam dismounted and strolled to the thick chain-links of the fence. “We want to trade. If we have a spare nail you need and you have spare washer we need why should we both go without? Yeah, we were prisoners when we came. You were some weird religious something. But we’re the only humans in this reality. We need to help each other.” “You’re running out of the stuff you looted from Rockport, aren’t you?” Sharon said. “Gas and beer and cigarettes.” “If we were you might not want to put yourselves between smokers and their cigarettes. Going cold turkey makes a man poison mean, and most of us started out mean anyway.” “We don’t have any cigarettes,” Leo said. “We tried to screen out smokers, and the two who snuck through ran out months ago.” “What I want right now is antibiotics.” Sam turned to Sister West. “You have a personal stake in this. I bet you didn’t know you’re a grandma. But you may not be much longer. Something going through the kids. We already lost two. We’ll lose more without medicine. We’ll trade you gas or booze for it, high-quality vodka. Think about it, but not long. Kids won’t be around to help in a few days.” He held up a portable two-way radio. “You have these, right?” He gave them a frequency. “Let us know.” He strolled along the fence until he faced Sharon. “How is happily ever after going?” Sharon didn’t say anything. He grinned, got on the horse and rode away. She watched him go, trying to push his question out of her mind. Leo spoke behind her, so close she jumped. “So now we have a race. Can anybody find their bioweapon and disarm it? Who finds it first? That’s not a race we want to be in, but we have to win it.” “We should have gotten those women out.” Leo stared out at the horizon as Sam and his men disappeared. “That’s one reason I wake up in the dark hours of the morning and don’t always like myself.” He turned to her. “Some choices I make are hard to live with. Still want to be part of my world?” “There is a wedding in a month that says I do,” Sharon said. “Are you going to send the antibiotics?” “Not totally my choice,” Leo said. “But if they can prove it’s going to sick babies, then I’d say yeah. No choice.” Chapter 4 Woody missed the target from an embarrassingly short distance with two out of three arrows. He glanced around the practice field. He wasn’t quite the worst shot among the roughly two-hundred people on the field, but close to it. The misses earned him a scornful look from their instructor, a wiry-looking woman who stood a couple of inches over six foot, with long arms and legs to match. “You might hit a mammoth if it was broadside to you.” “Or I could use a gun.” “Ammunition won’t last forever, and reloading only extends it a little.” Woody held the bow in front of him. “I probably made this one. That’s why it’s crap. You need someone who really knows how to make bows.” The instructor didn’t respond, but Woody could fill in the silence. But my buddies in Aryan Kings killed the bow maker and his apprentice knows what’s in the books but can’t make his hands do the work. The instructor took Woody’s bow, flexed it, and grimaced. “It is a sad specimen, but…” She put five arrows into the target in a group smaller than Woody’s fist. “At this range you don’t need anything better.” “You don’t. I do.” “Better bow wouldn’t make much difference. How did you get stuck making bows?” “I told someone I tried to make bows for the AKs. I also told them it didn’t work. But they drafted me because they didn’t have anybody better. I did carpentry before I did time, so with the books I can sort of get the job done.” The instructor laughed. “I wouldn’t call this getting the job done. Any real bow maker would tell you to throw it away and start over. But it’s sort of usable and maybe we’ll have something better in a couple of years when people get good enough to use bows. That assumes they take the practice seriously. This is the first time most people have.” “Too many other things going on.” Woody retrieved his arrows. “Most of us are dead tired just keeping alive.” Leo West strolled by. He nodded to Woody. “Do we have a natural archer here?” “Nope. I’d never make it in the middle ages.” Leo grinned. “Middle ages is optimistic for our tech level once we use up the stuff we brought with us.” “Why? We have books. We can look up how to make anything we want.” “Sure, except then we have to look at every piece that goes into making what we want and figure out how to make that. We have to train someone to make it, and we have to make all of the machines to make it. It’s like one of those organization charts, with what you want to make at the top, and all of the parts you need to make it going down, level after level, each level with more boxes than the one above it. You can’t do modern civilization with a thousand people. You probably can’t do it with ten thousand. You might recreate the 1900s with a couple hundred thousand.” “So why did you come?” “To build something new,” Leo said. “At least that’s part of it. It will take generations though. We tried to give ourselves ten years of the vital stuff. We missed stuff though. We’ll run out of toothpaste in two years. We’re running out of food with refined sugar too, so hopefully we won’t all have Billy Bob teeth.” “There are at least a thousand people in Sam’s camp. I won’t say they’re choir boys, but the dumb ones and the lazy ones died in the first two years.” “But not the violent ones.” “Not all of them. The dumb violent ones, yeah they died. The ones who can be violent if they need to, a lot of them made it. Another thousand people. That would help.” “Maybe. And we would be telling them and everyone here that we accept what they’re doing to those women.” “You won’t get the women out without a fight and you can’t afford a fight. If you could you would have already gone after them.” “We make our choices and we live with them.” Leo turned and waved to a man riding an adult tricycle with heavy baskets full of chopped wood. “That’s the kind of thing we can keep going for twenty or thirty years. Hopefully that will be long enough to build the next generation of tech and pass it on to our kids. If we keep the books and knowledge, the generation after this one may get back most of what we lose. We don’t need everything. Our grandkids can live a good enough life without disposable razors, plastic water bottles, monster trucks and reality TV.” “Hey! I like monster trucks.” “I’ve always wondered who watched those things,” Leo said. “Happy here?” “These aren’t my kind of people. Waiting for my leg to heal, and then I’ll be on my way.” “It’s been healed a while.” “Want me gone?” “You do a good job when you’re working. I’m not in any hurry.” “It’s spring. It won’t be long now. Waiting for spring and for my leg to heal.”
Posted on Jan 3, 2012.
More Stuff For POD Members Only What you see here is a truncated on-line version of a larger zine that I contribute to POD, the alternate history APA. POD members get to look forward to more fun stuff.
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