Time Salvager (27 page)
“You like these people?” he asked, dreading the answer.
“They’re good people,” she said. “They just have to warm up to you.”
Elise sat him down on a stone next to the fire, and made a point to introduce him to the people nearby. He was amazed that she already knew many of them by name. They treated him like almost everyone else in this solar system did, just short of open hostility with a mix of caution, fear, and wariness.
The warmth of the fire felt good. James had kept his atmos turned off in order to conserve his levels. Now, he was feeling an assortment of temperatures, from the chill in his toes to the burning itch on his arm closest to the flames. He sat down next to her and stared at the fire. There was something alive and chaotic about a real fire, how it flickered and danced and spit sparks into the night air. Within a few seconds, the fire got too hot for him and he had to shy away from the heat.
Dinner came next, and it was pathetic. Both James and Elise were given dented metal bowls with a handful of berries, cooked vegetables, some strange blackened bits, and a sliver of meat. James’s AI band ran an analysis of his meal: wild berries, mixed leaves, cooked cockroaches, and rat. None of this was new to James. He and Sasha had survived on a diet much like this back on Mnemosyne Station.
Elise made a gagging noise and struggled to choke down the cooked cockroach bits. He didn’t have the heart to tell her what it was. He considered offering her his portion, though that probably would be the last thing she wanted right now. Then he reminded himself that he hadn’t eaten in over a day as well.
As the two of them choked down their meals, he watched what the Elfreth ate. If they were eating the same thing as they were, then he might be able to put to rest his theory of them being cannibals. Fortunately, it seemed tonight was cockroach and rat night for everyone.
All of them were thin, especially the young. Many of the children reminded James of his childhood. Like he had been, each of them was skinny, tired, and hungry, but still young enough not to surrender to the hopelessness. At least not yet. Each of these kids was strong and resilient. They had to be to have survived this long.
“James.” Elise nudged him. “You’re bigger than me. Maybe you should have some of my dinner.” She pushed her plate toward him.
“You need it as much as I do,” he said gruffly.
She shook her head and looked at the children huddling over their small bowls. “Look at these people. They’re starving. I’ve never gone hungry one day in my life. I don’t think they’ve ever gone a day when they weren’t.” She looked to him. “Is there anything you can do? You have all these fantastic powers.”
“I can’t just conjure up food, and I think breaking into a food bank might draw some unwanted attention. Let’s not forget we’re both wanted by probably every authority in this solar system.”
“Then go back in time to get it,” she said, and brightened. “Yeah, why don’t you? Head back to some point in time and bring back food for these people.”
James shook his head. “It’s more complicated than that. There are rules to follow and consequences to time travel. I can’t jump back for small benefits like food and basic supplies. It’s not worth the cost.”
“Not worth the…” Elise looked angry. “Look at them, James! Some of the children don’t look like they’ll live through the winter. How is that not worth the cost?”
James looked away from her, his teeth cutting on his lower lip. It wasn’t her fault. Elise didn’t know what she was asking for; she didn’t know the consequences. Yet, that earnest compassion on her face … There was this kindness and vibrancy to Elise that James found alluring. It moved him in a way that he had never felt before. He found himself unconsciously drawn to her.
An idea occurred to James. He could accomplish two tasks at once. This was the perfect opportunity to test Smitt, to see if his twenty-year-old friendship had survived this trying situation. If Smitt found a jump point for him, would he have an ambush waiting for James? James could arrive a day early and if ChronoCom forces moved into the region … It would be risky, but something he needed to find out. And Smitt, as a handler, would be a valuable resource for him to leverage.
There was more to it, though. James would never admit it, but he desperately wanted to believe that his only friend was still his friend. Finding out where Smitt stood was more important to him personally than getting the food for the tribe. This gave him the perfect cover to test his old friend’s loyalty.
“Excuse me,” he said, standing up. He walked to the edge of the camp and shot up into the air, bounding on top of several buildings until he could no longer see the spark of the campfire. He landed on the water’s edge and stayed still, listening for any signs of activity. With what he was about to do, he couldn’t be too cautious. Satisfied that he was far enough away from the Elfreth’s base, James sat down at the water’s edge, and looked up at the gray and brown clouds that covered the sky.
“Smitt, you there?” he thought. “Smitt, let me—”
“I’m here, James. Have you come to your senses? Are you ready to turn yourself in?”
“No, but listen, I need a favor. It’s an unusual request. I need you to dig around the chronostream and find a jump point that won’t cause any ripples.”
Salih should have listened to Kaela that morning when she told him about her bad dream and begged him not to go out to sea.
“The oceans are angry and a storm dances near,” his little sister pleaded, tugging on his tunic. “There might be pirates. A whale might swallow your ship whole.”
Salih had laughed at her overactive child’s mind, patted her on the head, and promised to bring something back once he returned from the short voyage to Carthage and dropped off the foodstuffs that the city so badly needed. The Romans were on the march toward the city again, and if history proved correct once more, it would be a very profitable summer for Salih and his two modest trade ships, laden with barley, salted fish, and smoked meats. He could charge three times more at a besieged city than anywhere else in the Mediterranean, and the Carthaginians would gladly pay. By the gods, Salih loved war.
Then Kaela’s cursed dream came true. Not just part of it, but all. His little sister must belong to the Oracles. First, a sea creature, large enough that Salih could only guess it was a whale, smashed into his lead ship—the one filled with the expensive salted fish—and crippled her. Salih had lost a day tethering his remaining good ship to the crippled one to move the crew and merchandise on board before it was lost. Then, over-encumbered, the remaining ship was too slow to outrun Sicilian pirates who had sensed an easy prey.
Salih, as a last desperate measure to escape, steered the ship into a storm. His risky plan worked, kind of. On one hand, Salih lost the pirates in the storm. On the other, he lost his mast and oars in doing so as well. Most of his men had perished in the storm, and now three days later, the rest were succumbing to the cruel sea one by one. Salih himself hadn’t eaten anything for days, except very salty fish.
His two surviving sailors, Adom and Geb, were dying belowdecks, complete invalids suffering from salt poisoning. Salih cursed the gods, his men, and his ill fortune. He cursed Kaela most of all. After all, she was the one who stood to inherit his wealth when he was gone. She must have profaned him to the gods. She was devious, that one, and far too clever by half for a seven-year-old.
Now, huddled under a tarp to protect himself from the ferocious sun, Salih grimaced at the half-eaten salted fish in the wooden bowl next to him. In disgust, he smacked it overboard and watched it disappear into the sea. Why did all his cargo have to be so heavily salted on this trip? The one time he didn’t bring fruits! Fruit spoiled in sieges and it was the wrong season; that was why. Still, the gods had played a cruel trick on him.
The tarp fell off and Salih felt the sting of burning rays on his sunburned back. He shook his fist at the gods and pleaded, “Horus, damn your infernal heat. I can’t take it much longer.”
There was a yellow flash, brighter than the light of Horus. Salih shied away in terror as a silhouette of a man appeared floating in the air, casting a long shadow over him. With the sun to the back of the figure, Salih couldn’t quite make out who he was. The very fact that he was floating could only mean one thing, though.
“My humble apologies, mighty Horus.” He threw himself onto the deck of his ship. “I meant no insult. Please save me from—”
“Quiet,” the dark figure said, drifting down to the deck. As his body moved out from the sun’s path, Salih realized that the god looked like any other man, except for his strange garb. He must be divine, though, or at least noble, for his skin was so pale, it was as if he had never stood in daylight before. Of course! How could the sun god’s own rays darken him?
Salih stayed prostrated as the figure made a circle around the deck. He checked the broken mast and then knelt down in front of Salih. “Where is your cargo, merchant?”
“Down below, great Horus,” Salih said. “Please, it is yours. Just deliver me to safety.”
The figure made a chuckling noise, which Salih found strange. Did gods have a sense of humor? He stood up and walked to the starboard side of the ship and looked out toward the horizon.
“Come here, merchant,” he said.
Salih obeyed and crawled on all fours toward the figure.
“Oh, stand up, for abyss’s sake,” the figure said.
Salih dutifully obeyed and stood, though he made sure to keep his head bowed and his eyes on the ground. He had once heard the story of man who stared at the face of the sun god and had his eyes seared off. Salih was already in enough trouble, being stranded out to sea. The last thing he needed was to go blind from—
“Do you see those clouds on the horizon?” The figure pointed at the dark rumblings in the distance.
“Yes, great god. It is the same storm that destroyed my ship and drowned my crew. Mighty Yam must have been displeased with my offerings before I set—”
The figured turned and faced him. “In two days’ time, the storm will engulf you again. This time, it will not be as merciful. It will break your ship and you will drown.”
Salih’s face turned white. “Please save me, great god. I have a family, a sister, an elderly mother.”
“I can do nothing for you, merchant, except offer you a quick death. I’m sorry.”
The dark figure rose up into the air, and then Salih’s deck buckled and cracked with a thunderous bang as if lightning had come down from the sky. The cargo stowed in the hold broke through the deck and orbited around the floating man. He made a strange gesture, and then all of Salih’s cargo disappeared.
Salih watched in horror as ocean water rushed through the gaping hole in his ship. It was sinking!
“You have helped many people today, merchant. I hope your next life remembers that.” The god gave him a tilt of the head, a small sign of respect that Salih found strange coming from a deity.
“Great god,” he cried, reaching his arms out toward the figure. “Save me!”
The last thing Salih saw were the ends of his ship as they folded up and over him, finally blotting out the angry sun that had plagued him for so many days. Then everything went black.
* * *
The instant James pulled his haul from the trading ship out of his netherstore, the party began. The savages—no, the Elfreth, he reminded himself that Elise didn’t like it when he referred to these people as savages—gathered around excitedly as he stacked bags of barley and meats and fish on one of the tables. James wasn’t sure what they were more fascinated by: the fact that he was pulling things out of midair or that he had just brought enough food to last them weeks. He realized a few minutes later that they could care less about this magic trick of his with the netherstore as they mobbed the foodstuffs.
An elderly tribeswoman, her hair tied neatly in a bun, wearing a leather piece on her chest that could only be called an apron, came and inspected one the sacks. A knife materialized in her hand and she slit a small corner off the top. She sniffed the contents inside and her face lit up into giant smile. She waved the kitchen staff closer. The smile fell a bit when her eyes rested on James, but he was rewarded with a slight nod. Then she began to delegate.
More and more of the Elfreth came to see what was going on. Word soon spread all the way up to the Farming Tower roofs, and soon, the entire tribe left their daily work early and a spontaneous celebration exploded in the field.
Elise came a few minutes later with Sammuia, the boy with the hurt leg, leading her by the hand. The boy seemed to follow her wherever she went. She eyed the stockpile, a small smile spreading across her face.
“Did you rob a grocery store?”
“A floating one,” he answered. “Originally meant for the fishes. I thought I’d put it to better use.”
“Did everything go all right? You were gone for a few days.” She paused. “I was worried.”
James nodded. The actual job only took a few hours. However, he had gone to the jump site two days early and stayed a day in the region after he returned to reconnoiter ChronoCom’s activity when a patrol came to investigate the jump. He was relieved and deeply moved to discover that he could still trust Smitt. If Smitt had wanted to betray him, monitors would have been swarming the general vicinity. Knowing that Smitt was still his friend lifted a great weight off James’s shoulder.
Elise and James stood side by side as the tribe broke down the foodstuffs within minutes. James was now inclined to agree with Elise that these supposed savages were anything but. If anything, through the necessity of stretching their meager resources to the limit, they were as efficient if not more so than any of the people in the civilized colonies.
Even the now-emptied sacks were cut down for blankets, clothing, and bandages. Meats were stripped from the bone and then the bones stockpiled for stew and weapons. Dried herbs were mashed into paste for seasoning and medicine. Nothing went to waste. Within an hour, the six pallets of foodstuffs were gone, then a small legion of children moved in to pick up any remaining grain that might have slipped through careless hands.
