Gravewalkers: Dying Time (14 page)

As he turned off his
showerhead to leave, Critias said, “Part of me wishes your
directives were back on; that way, I would at least have a chance
to prove to you that I would never hurt you like that again. As
things are, it will only seem like I have changed because I’m
afraid of you twisting my head around backwards, which I suppose I
am.”

Carmen finished rinsing
then followed Critias to the adjacent locker room where they found
enough new clothing to outfit an army. The Foragers preferred
leathers and chemical resistant materials that offered suitable
protection against bites, scratches, and the blood splatter that
came from shooting the creatures. The abundant variety of antique
clothing mesmerized Carmen and she wanted to explore through it all
to find things that appealed to her newly discovered concept of
personal fashion taste. Eventually she selected a form-fitting body
suit of synthetic rubber all in lustrous gray with central vertical
striping of yellow on the front and back. The manufacturer had made
it for fashionable wave surfers but the material was also ideal to
prevent scratches and it repelled infected splatter from battle
with the fallen.

“
I just love polymerized
chloroprene,” she said in delight, “and it’s just my size.” She put
it on over her bare skin and it fit like paint. With a pose she
asked, “Isn’t it fantastic?” She wanted Critias’ approval. Even
though she had wounded him deeply and rightfully with her earlier
comments, her mood showed only a deep fondness for him, which in
context only made him feel worse. She told him, “This material is
corrosion resistant, electrically insolating, and repellent to
chemicals.” Carmen examined herself in a mirror where she noticed
the costume left little of her figure to the imagination, “Do you
think it’s too revealing?”

“
It doesn’t hide your
charms,” he admitted while he admired the prurient truth of it. “I
think you look even more beautiful.”

Carmen dashed over to hug
him with exuberance, “Now we need to find you something. I want
everyone to see how fine my man is.”

Her admission that he was
still her man was a great relief to Critias since he dreaded the
thought of losing her. He was glad to indulge her fashion game, not
only to please her, but because he felt she was entitled to it,
like she made up for having missed her chance to grow up normally.
Carmen did have good taste when it came to his wardrobe. She
dressed him in civilian clothes that would have been quite
fashionable before the Outbreak yet antiquated on the space
stations.

Support crews in the rail
tunnel unloaded the cargo from the vehicles Fat Jack’s Foragers
brought back. The road teams had collected all manner of supplies
from wherever they had found them. The decontamination crews
cleaned those vehicles then the mechanics made sure they were in
perfect working order.

Fat Jack demanded constant
professionalism and attention to detail from everyone under his
command. He assigned someone to take personal responsibility for
every task and he expected them to report their success to him
afterward. They frequently heard Jack bellow and curse while he
made certain that all his people paid attention to what they
did.

Jack personally supervised
the unloading of Critias’ truck then delivered all the contents to
the mudroom without any close inspection of the contents. His
intention was to ensure that the extraordinary new arrivals to
their community took no offense over the notion that he had robbed
them of their rightful possessions. Critias had offered to mingle
his food and other consumables with the public pantry while he kept
personal charge of his crates that contained technology like the
parts for the new android and his weapons. Jack would have Critias
present to pass along any contribution by his own hand.

When the work was complete,
all the crews filtered in through the mudroom and then on to the
showers. The delicious smell of roasted geese wafted about the
place by the time that everyone was clean and that scent lured them
into the second hall that lay opposite the way to the rail tunnel.
The Back Hall was half-again larger than the entry hall, but
instead of being a simple rectangle, it was an exotic architecture
like concentric arcs. It contained the kitchens and dining tables,
but those only occupied a portion of the ample floor space. The
hall also contained a vast collection of toys that the Foragers had
salvaged on their adventures. The diversions ranged from billiards
to giant video displays with entertainment media and computer games
surrounded by comfortable lounging furniture. They even had a half
basketball court.

The Back Hall was the
recreational location of choice for the Forager community when it
came time for them to unwind from their day’s temerarious
escapades. The crews drank cold homemade beer while they talked
about the extreme points of their activities and about their new
arrivals.

Fat Jack invited Critias
and Carmen to join him at the Captains’ Table where he sat with the
vehicle teams and support crew commanders. What those at the table
shared principally in common was that they were the people who
risked their lives the most frequently when they performed the most
hazardous duties. On a darker side they shared the high probability
of being one another’s executioners should anyone become infected
while in the field.

“
Tomorrow you’ll get to
meet King Louie,” Jack told them. “He’s always glad to see new
people, but don’t expect him to throw you a feast this fancy. We
Foragers eat better here than is the everyday usual. Risk is part
of the job, as the old King used to say, but the perks are finders’
keepers.” He laughed aloud at the joyful memory of the old King,
“Then he would say that one spoonful of my stew is charity, but two
is enemy action.”

Critias put a box of cigars
on the table that he had retrieved from his crates in the mudroom.
“These are hydroponic,” he warned Jack, “so they might not meet
your standards. It’s been so long since I’ve had traditional
tobacco that I’m not familiar with the flavor.” In truth, he had
never had any packaged tobacco from centuries past, but that seemed
a bit beyond the realm of an insouciant explanation.

Jack opened the box then
unwrapped one of the cigars to sniff at it. His smile alone was
proof of the quality. “One of these will be perfect for after
dinner,” Fat Jack praised the fine cigar after he inhaled the
scent. By way of conversation he asked, “So did the two of you have
a rough trip down from Chicago? There must be enough infected there
to even give George the willies.”

Critias was not much for
lying while Carmen was a master of it since to her all information
was irrelevant to her style of presentation. He hoped she would
step up to the occasion, but she offered no answer and instead sat
fixated as she watched some of the crewmembers play
basketball.

“
Go play with them,”
Critias told her, “just be careful not to hurt anybody.”

Carmen flashed him a
grateful grin then left the table to do just that.

George sat down and offered
Critias a cold beer. “They can play pretty rough,” he cautioned.
“She should be more careful not to get hurt herself.”

Critias chuckled at that,
“You want to bet?” He pulled his engraved marshal’s teslaflux
pistol then put it on the table, “I’ll put up this against your
blade.” George wore a custom-made machete from his belt that
Critias thought would be ideal for beheading downed infected, which
it was.

“
You can’t be serious,”
George hesitated on the thought that he would steal Critias’
extraordinary pistol since it was a wager against what amounted to
his essentially worthless stretch of stamped metal.

“
You’re right,” Critias
agreed as he put the gun away. Since Carmen was an Epsilon combat
android, it actually wasn’t possible that she would lose unless she
did it on purpose. “We should keep this friendly,” Critias changed
tact. “How about, if she wins, you take me with you on your next
foraging run. If she doesn’t measure up, I’ll make good on a favor
of equal value.”

“
You’re on,” George
accepted the bet good-naturedly.

Tony Banjo didn’t hesitate
to invite Carmen to play for his team since it was a chance to get
closer to her. The brief time she had watched was more than enough
for her to understand the game. The opportunity she had to play
sports on the space station had acclimatized her to recreation
activities with fragile humans so Carmen refrained from humiliating
the other players as she confined her fun to being only manifestly
superior to the best people around her.

Within two minutes, George
conceded, “You win. She plays like an all-star athlete and if I had
to guess, she’s still holding back. I can now relate a little
better to what Penny was saying. The last time I saw someone move
that fast it was an infected trying to tear the door off my truck.”
George measured Critias’ reaction to his statement in that his very
purpose to say what he did was to get one.

“
Carmen is not an
infected,” Critias answered with a defensive edge that showed he
worried he would have to hurt some people to protect her, which he
would beyond doubt if it came to that. Even in his most callous
moments of abusing her, Carmen was still his most precious
possession and that had not changed beyond her having stolen her
freedom.

“
Easy,” George sensed his
danger. “I’ve seen your armor and now that pistol you carry. I
don’t think even Tinker Bob has ever heard of such things and he
knows his tech-stuff. Those government scientists at that Chicago
bunker of yours must have invented some kind of super soldier serum
she has been taking.” George laughed, “If it’s contagious, she can
bite me anytime.”

Critias looked to Fat Jack,
“You two should come with me so I can show you something that will
put you more at ease. I think that the sooner we understand one
another the better off we will be.”

“
Let’s go,” Jack pushed
back his chair. “Anyone who would call me sir and the first Grand
Marshal is not the sort to cut my throat in my sleep. I think I can
trust you.”

The three of them went to
the mudroom where Critias opened his weapons crate. He wanted their
confidentiality before proceeding, “You’ll keep this our
secret?”

“
I can agree to that,” Fat
Jack pledged, “so long as King Louie is in on this.”

Critias removed the paper
manifest from inside the lid of the crate then offered it to Fat
Jack, “Read what this says at the bottom.”

Fat Jack scanned the page
and read the bottom aloud, “It says Marshal Service Arms Locker
Fourteen, Space Station Nine, released to Doctor Kine.” He paused
to double-check before he continued, “Released to Doctor Kine on
March Eleventh, the year twenty-two eighty-four.” He stared at
Critias as he tried to reason it out, “The first Grand Marshal is
what you called me. You said you never believed you would ever see
me in the flesh.”

“
Carmen and I are not from
Chicago,” Critias told them the truth. “I can’t explain easily why
she is special, but Carmen is with me and we came back to help King
Louie make my future happen at all. We are like your
great-great-something grandchildren. Where I come from, you people
are like legendary heroes.”

George rolled with the
revelations with his usual calm acceptance, “Did anyone else come
with you from the future?”

“
Well,” Critias nodded,
“since you asked, I suppose I can introduce you.” He selected one
of the android containers then opened the cover shield to expose
the transparent cylinder inside that had a copper-haired male human
head suspended in fluid. “Don’t bother asking me how you put him
together because I have no idea. This is what we call an Epsilon-R
technical-science android, like a science professor in a can. This
is a gift for King Louie from my era.”

“
Now that’s a nice gift,”
Fat Jack admitted impressed.

George considered it all,
“So, Carmen is one of these assembled people from a
can?”

“
Carmen is also from our
best Epsilon series of androids; only instead of being a scientist,
she is a combat soldier. I don’t want you to get the idea that she
does not have emotions or lacks feelings to be hurt. Carmen is
mostly organic and can be very proud, so you should treat her with
the respect deserving of any other person. She is wondrously
intelligent and wicked tough in a scrap.”

Fat Jack sensed Critias had
more to say about her, “But what?”

“
She is just kind of new,”
Critias explained carefully. “Carmen has not been alive for very
long, so she has an unusual outlook on everything.”

George hinted about her
being sexual, “Is uh, she fully functional?”

“
Very,” Critias confirmed,
“at least she is when we’re not fighting. I’ve disrespected her
once too often recently, so she has put me on notice. She can be
dangerous when provoked, but a trustworthy and noble person if you
are a friend.”

“
Women,” Fat Jack slapped
Critias on the back. “In your time the infected are
gone?”

“
They’re still around.
It’s just what you see out there now only with everything rotted
away by time. To be honest, you probably have more to teach me than
I have to teach you. Only days before I left for here, an army of
infected took out our latest base the scavenger bosses put in
Chicago. We really got our asses handed to us.”