A Long Time Until Now (56 page)

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Authors: Michael Z Williamson

Tags: #fiction, #science fiction, #time travel, #General, #Action & Adventure

BOOK: A Long Time Until Now
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“You will be.”

“Let me know when. I’m still turning out blankets and hammocks.”

Her crocheted blankets were much in demand as trade goods. She was basically off labor details, between managing information and turning out textiles.

And with her health obviously failing first. She was perpetually exhausted, prone to sleep, forgetful, and losing muscle tone. He thought her hair might be thinning, too.

Once they’d worked out the details on trade, they were advancing quickly, with lots of labor in exchange for goods. Without TV or other time sinks, the older cultures didn’t value labor time very much, and were quite willing to work long hours for luxury goods. He wondered how much that had to do with the development of slavery.

Then there was the other item.

“I don’t really know how to say this. I didn’t need to last time, but . . . would you consider marrying me?”

She clenched her face and went tense all over. Crap. That wasn’t good.

“As much as I’d like to, I have to refuse.”

“I understand.” Damn. Well, there were always two possible answers . . .

“I keep some faint hope we’ll someday get home. It wouldn’t be fair to give of myself to you, and have to snatch it back. It wouldn’t be fair to my husband, and it wouldn’t be fair to me.”

“Yeah, I understood it from body language and context. I guess that comes from being so close for so long.”

She said, “I am flattered. I guess I’ll inevitably change my mind, and if you’re still free, you’d be my choice. But please don’t wait for me.”

That just made her that much more interesting.

Crap.

“No pressure. Thanks for being honest.”

He left before it got awkward.

He went to check on the embassies.

The Urushu had two minor casualties, one with some sort of female problem, and one with a nasty, infected boil. Doc had fixed that, was working on the first one, and the escorts were helping haul firewood in between watching their charge.

The Gadorth were waiting for blankets, and moving rock in the meantime. The outside bottom of the palisade was being faced with stone, and some maintenance was being done to the grounds. With slate sickles, they cut down the grass.

That left technical work to the Americans.

Elliott came over, with a tablet in hand. The ancients had gotten used to the Americans having strange devices, lights at night, and knives that seemed to never go dull. They accepted that these were magical devices that involved complicated wizardry and spirit intervention, which was about as readily as the processes could be explained to savages who didn’t really keep calendars, much less precise measurements of anything, and didn’t know what metal was other than occasional shiny bits of pyrite and gold.

“I’m thinking ahead,” Elliott said.

“Yes, sir?”

“Is there a way to dismount the AC from one of the vehicles to make a fridge, and could it be powered by a waterwheel?”

He thought for a moment only. “I would say not, sir. The gas would leak out, and we’d need circulating fans. It would be some steampunk, or I guess stonepunk, bastard, and I’d love to see it, but I don’t see any point in trying to do it.”

“I thought so. I was hoping you had some brilliant insight.”

“Short term, enough nut oil and hemp oil means we can run the engines now and then.”

“I was thinking of food preservation. Refrigeration. Any ideas?”

Oh, of course.

“That I do have. Pile up a bunch of snow in winter, pack it down, cover it in a tepee or even two. It will probably last all summer.”

“That’s brute force and a lot of labor, but I guess that’s what we’ll have. Can we put drain tiles underneath?”

“We’ll have to. Mortar as well. I don’t think we can do it before winter.”

“I’ll add it to my project list anyway.”

“Yeah, next year if not this year. It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

Nor was he getting a wife any time soon.

Armand didn’t pull watch very often. He noticed the shortage and asked, and Elliott had had Alexander put him on a three-quarter schedule, since he often stayed up with patients. Even then, someone often took his watch so he could keep with his charges.

He hated being here, though was gradually getting used to it, and having good people helped. But the influx of Urushu women reminded him that he needed to get laid. Then he needed someone to live and cuddle with. This Army community thing was okay, but it would be nice to ask for a meal of choice and not be stuck with whatever they turned out. Not that it would be better, just different.

The dawn shift was always the chilliest and dampest. That wasn’t bad in July, except it then got hot and nasty. In October, though, it was shivery.

He hoped they’d gotten the message through that pregnant women really shouldn’t be hauling water and rocks after the fifth month. The spirits didn’t like it, which was why those fistula formed. He hoped they wouldn’t just shrug and continue, or figure some native ritual would fix it.

He was getting pretty good at minor GYN surgery, though. Professionally, he knew his way around a vagina.

Socially . . .

Dammit.

Next to him, Ortiz said, “Okay, I’m down. You’ve got it until breakfast?”

“Hooah.” It was light enough they didn’t need two. It was also misty and foggy as hell. He couldn’t see anything outside the wall anyway. NVG showed little, either.

He was bored with his entertainment. He’d seen every movie everyone had, burned out on the ones he cared about, listened to all the music. He was losing connection with his own time, and sliding into the daily tedium of this place. The work was productive. He was glad to keep others alive and improve their well being. He wished he had more knowledge and a lot more tools. He was pretty sure that guy two weeks ago had an aneurysm, and there was nothing he could do. As far as the stroke victim, they already understood most of the basic field therapy. They weren’t stupid by any stretch.

He needed something for him.

A deep animal noise sounded to the northeast.

It wasn’t a bison, nor a rhino. Whatever it was, it was nothing they’d heard before. It was deep, but shrill.

“That almost reminds me of . . .” he muttered to himself, as Ortiz stopped at the door of his hooch and came running back.

Through the rising mist he saw them.

“Fucking mammoths.” He stared in shock.

Ortiz said, “How? They don’t come this far south. They’re supposed to be almost extinct. We’ve never seen any, the Urushu have never seen any . . .”

He wondered, “Did they get pulled through time, too?”

“No way to know. They can’t tell us.”

Elliott came up, then Barker, and shortly everyone was outside. He realized Caswell was wearing only panties and T-shirt, and that he was less interested in that than the pachyderms.

Everyone clambered up the vehicles or the corner towers to stare at the huge beasts.

“They move pretty lightly for big critters.”

“They do.”

The Romans would probably recognize elephants at least by reputation. Did the Ancients?

They chattered amongst themselves. Oglesby talked to both the Urushu and the Gadorth at length, while pointing. Alexander came sprinting out again, her gear bouncing, and swung her camera into action.

There were twenty-three of the huge beasts, though five were juveniles no larger than a compact car. Their tusks were long, curving, magnificent things.

“Are they bigger than elephants?”

“A bit, yes.”

There was a thick, musty smell from them, not unpleasant, but notable, drifting across the landscape.

They ambled downhill, and flowed to the north of the palisade, three of them feeling along it with their trunks, the rest footloose. Two others stopped to stare at the goat pen, then walked around it, as the goats baaed and muttered, hopping about and into their weather lean-to.

“They’re heading north,” Ortiz said. “And they look skinny. They can’t eat down here, right?”

Spencer said, “Not as well as up on the muskeg, no. This growth is too coarse and lean for them, I think. They need moss, lichen, shrubby subarctic stuff that’s nutrient dense.”

“Poor things,” Caswell said. “I don’t think they can make it.”

“They’re heading north. There’s water there and growth in the mountains that might work.”

“I hope so,” she said.

Armand only said, “Yeah.” They were awe-inspiring beasts, and glowed with intelligence. They’d understood the fences and human settlement.

“How far back and forward do these ripples go?” Ortiz asked.

Alexander said, “I still want to know if they’ll ever settle down and send us home.”

Armand replied, “I wouldn’t think so, any more than a ripple dislodging a pebble in a stream. It never goes back.”

She sighed. “You’d think we’d be used to it by now.”

“Part of me hopes I never am. I never want to give up hope.”

Dalton said, “I’m adapted. Here we are, because God wills it. So we accept it and learn from it.”

Spencer shook his head. “There are times I wish I had your faith.”

“You can.”

“No, it’s not for me.” He sounded insistent.

“You’ll be at peace.”

Spencer was definitely getting annoyed as he said, “That’s not for me, either. I enjoy my anger and rage.”

“Hmm. I don’t know, have you—”

“Rich, drop it, seriously.”

“Sorry. Dropped.” Dalton was a good guy, but he was too earnest in his faith sometimes.

Armand said, “They may be farther away from home than we are.”

Caswell said, “That doesn’t really reassure me.” She clutched herself in the cool air.]

CHAPTER 33

It was definitely becoming winter again. Felix Trinidad hated it. His background didn’t include months of snow. It almost included Stone Age people in some of the remote villages, though. This was a confusing place.

He talked to Oglesby and Doc. “Notice the hair dressing and the presentation. They’re looking for mates.” He was entirely sure by now. The soldiers had status and the chicks wanted them.

Doc said, “Well, once the hot tub is done, we can bathe a few and get it on at the same time.” He grinned broadly and snapped his fingers.

“It’s funny because you think you’re joking.”

“It’s hilarious because you think I’m not.”

Doc added, “Or that I am. Anyway, I’m serious. I want some flesh as much as the next man, but we need to keep in mind all that social stuff Dan and Spencer talk about, and we have no idea what diseases they might have.”

“You haven’t seen any symptoms on them, right?”

“No lesions, no noxious odors other than sweat. But there’s strong evidence, for example, that one form of syphilis was a mild skin ailment among the Native Americans. It turned virulent when it had to deal with clothing. You don’t want to die with your dick and your bones rotting.”

Felix said, “Americans tell jokes about ‘Black Syph’ in the PI and Korea. You’re being serious.”

The medic looked very serious as he said, “I’m serious that we have no idea what diseases there might be. We have to be cautious. I recommend not getting into any wild orgies.”

“Hell, I only need one. They’re eager, willing to please and want to make us happy. As long as she’s warm I’m good. They’re almost all very hot, and your height.” That put them about six inches taller than Felix.

“And are you planning on having lots of kids? The only birth control is pulling out, or the two dozen condoms I have in the kit. I guess you can turn it inside out afterward, shake the fuck out of it, and reroll it for reuse.”

“Wait, wasn’t that a Scottish joke? ‘The Regiment has voted to replace’?”

Doc nodded and smiled. “That’s the one. But those are our options. Otherwise, we can make condoms out of goat guts.”

Oglesby said, “Just remove them from the goat first.”

Doc grinned. “Sure, we’re not Afghans. But there will be diseases here in addition to that virus we all got; some are likely to be venereal. We have no background for them, or them for us, and pregnancy is a guarantee if you go at it.”

“So what you’re saying is it’s a one way-trip to settle down and a home in the suburbs?”

Felix had figured most of this out before, though the potential virulence of infection was disturbing.

“The women will want families, too,” he said. “They lose a lot in birth and growth, accidents.”

He would really enjoy a woman, but he didn’t want a family just yet.

But porn and the spank tank was getting really old.

Martin Spencer felt old. Between his guts burning, and the agony of creaking joints when he woke up in the morning, he had long bouts of misery. He hadn’t done any smithing in two days, because his right arm ached too much.

Midshift was never good for him. He always had trouble getting back to sleep afterward. He huddled inside his gore-tex and layers, and tried to keep his focus.

Dalton was next to him, sitting next to the turret.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Settling down,” Dalton said. “I guess we have our word from God. So I need to find a woman who suits me, and see about becoming a husband and father.”

“Good that you’re considering it seriously. I guess Doc had a talk with some of the guys.”

“Yeah, I overheard some of it. No free sex here.”

Martin replied, “Heh, it’s never free. Just the way you pay for it changes. But I do agree it’s a serious matter. Some of these kids, back home I mean, I know one chick, sergeant now, who pulled a train with a squad of Marines. We had one boy in the shop got three women pregnant in a year, and that’s with modern birth control and knowledge.”

“Oglesby’s the one I worry about.”

“Yeah, Trinidad and Ortiz are more rural, take things more seriously. I think some of that’s cultural in other ways, too. Doc’s just incredibly shy and uncomfortable around women.”

“He does like women though, right?”

“According to his phone he does, yes.” Martin thought you could have enough boob. Armand did not.

“Then he’ll get over it.”

“Probably.”

“You and the captain?”

Martin said, “He’s not my type.”

“Yeah, you know what I mean. Our women and you guys?”

“They don’t seem very keen on the idea so far. I hope Gina comes around.”

“Someone you can settle down quietly with?”

He thought for a few moments in silence before he said, “We’ve talked. I don’t know what you think ‘old’ people do, but I’m pretty sure she’s not quiet, and probably ten times as versatile as the local women.”

“Oh.”

That had shocked the kid.

“Just because I agree monogamy is a good idea doesn’t mean I’m a prude, Rich. I’ve probably done a lot of things you’ve only read about. And we’re not old.”

Dalton looked suitably embarrassed and Martin let him change the conversation.

“I’ll take a while to see which Urushu have compatible personalities. They’re all decent looking. Trying to develop communication is going to be a task.”

“Then trying to convert her to Christianity?”

Dalton looked stubborn.

“I have to try, at least. I even think that may be why I’m here.”

The man was solid.

“I’m not criticizing you. I respect determination and faith. You’ve held onto yours a lot better than some others.”

“Thank you,” he said as he picked up the NVG.

“You’re welcome.”

Dalton stopped in mid scan to the west.

“That’s . . .”

“What?”

“Did a herd come through earlier?”

Martin said, “I don’t think so.”

“Flat grass. Very flat.”

“Romans?” he asked.

“I don’t see anything. But I get the impression it may have been a cart.”

That was disturbing. “Okay, then we keep a steady watch and tell relief. I’ve got the gun, if we decide we need it.” He patted the beast and gave the belt a visual check.

“Hooah.”

“Let me see.” He raised his carbine and looked through the image intensifier. Yes, that was a swath. The hair on his neck bristled.

Very softly, Martin said, “That bothers me.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Dalton said.

He asked, “When did you last check?”

Dalton said, “I didn’t see it a half hour ago, but I wasn’t really looking. I go mostly by ear, you know?”

“Yes, it’s easy to follow most animals and the wind, now that we know what to listen for.”

“When Caswell comes on, do we want to go take a look?”

“I say we wait until daylight.”

“Scared?”

“Yes. I am,” he admitted. He’d been scared since they arrived, more than a year.

“Okay. I won’t joke about it,” Dalton said, sounding sympathetic.

“Thank you.”

“But a look would be useful.”

“It’s a swath in the grass. Remember my theory about two outcomes to everything?”

“Yeah?”

“If whatever it was isn’t there, no problem. If it is there are still two possibilities. If it can’t get through the wall, no problem. But if it can . . .”

“So you want to be up top looking down with guns.”

“Yes.”

“Hooah.”

They both had to remind themselves to look at the rest of the perimeter. This one was fascinating, and creepy.

Caswell relieved Dalton. She was not a good match for him, emotionally. They could be professional, though.

“So you think it might be a Roman incursion?” she said, when shown. Her voice was slightly muffled by hood, and it rustled as she moved.

“It might be. I don’t think it’s wild, but it could be.” He hoped it was. With the damp, cold, foggy air, silence and location, he was shivering from fear. It was like a horror movie. Add in four log cabins, a tent and the outbuildings . . .

“Could something have rolled downslope?”

“Possibly, but it’s not that much of a slope.”

She asked, “Do you want to check it out while I cover you?”

“Thanks, but no. We’ll watch until daytime.”

“Okay.”

“Anything planned for dinner tomorrow?” he asked Caswell.

“Bob said something about garlic buttered crayfish.”

“I’ll try it.” New food was usually welcome, though some things didn’t quite work out. “Any luck with the sprouting?”

“It’s going to take a few years,” she said. “I thought we discussed that.”

“Yeah, but talking keeps me alert, and that crop circle imitation is bothering me.”

“I’m not going to hold your hand.”

“I’ve got Doc for that,” he blurted out, then realized she wasn’t one for wisecracks.

She replied, “Do you know where that hand of his has been?”

Was that actual humor?

“On duty or off?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think I’d rather not know.” Humor, but she was very reserved about it.

“You have that luxury.”

She actually snickered, bit down and tried not to laugh aloud.

“I’d rather not know what you know,” she said.

“Good. Friends?”

“No. But we do have to live together.”

“Okay. I’ll erase your number from the outhouse wall.”

“I thought Alexander put that up there.”

“Is she trying to get rid of you?”

“Not as such, but we’re only roomies because we’re both female. We’re not particularly friendly.”

“I won’t tell the younger ones that. Let them keep their fantasies.”

“Yeah. That was predictable.”

“What, my comment, or their thoughts?”

“Both.”

“Yeah, it’s one of those things.”

“And it shouldn’t be. Does anyone assume Ortiz and Trinidad are going at it?”

“It has been joked about.”

“Sure. But who’d want to see it? Who secretly thinks it might be true?”

“I’m not disagreeing with your position,” he said. “I’ve told a couple of them to cut the comments, when they got out of hand.”

“It’s not just the comments,” she said.

“I know.”

“I’ve seen you stare at me.”

“Yeah. And Gina. And a couple of the Urushu. Aik!e, I think”

“Ai!ke.”

“Yeah, her.”

“And you don’t understand why that makes me feel vulnerable?”

“I do. I don’t know how to stop them looking. I realized Oglesby was going to try to seduce you at least. So I followed him.”

“Partly because you’re interested and don’t want him cutting you out.”

“Jenny, you’re pretty good at half of it.”

“What’s that?”

“Yes, part of me is interested, because you’re physically attractive.” He chose his words carefully. “We’re alone without company. Males are visually oriented. You must know this.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, you want me to be honest about it? Yes, you’ve featured in a few of my late night pity parties. My brain goes where it goes. We don’t do thoughtcrime. What I think and what I do are different.”

“So I’ve been fantasy raped. Nice to know.” She was cold and distant again.

“Apart from your looks, you’re not at all my type. You’re too young, different emotionally, and aggravating. There’s an image of you I like. Personally? I don’t like you as much as you don’t like me.”

“Because I’m female.”

“No, because you draw attention to the fact you’re female. Gina is just one of the troops. She happens to be shaped funny under her uniform. You draw attention to yourself.”

“I draw attention to behavior I find objectionable.”

“Part and parcel.” He wanted to be diplomatic so it would have some effect, but damn, she was irritating.

“So I should shut up and take, it, is that what you’re saying?”

“No. You should acknowledge it exists, and ignore it unless it becomes a threat.”

“It will always escalate to a threat.”

“Has it? Oglesby was trying to be comforting. It was more than you wanted, but he was looking for validation, not conquest. Has anyone else laid a hand on you?”

“No. I’m sure a couple of them would if there was a chance.”

He admitted, “If there was no one else? Maybe. That’s why the buddy teams are the way they are.”

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