Transient Echoes (3 page)

Travis tapped the head of the flippy with his index finger. “Time to go to work, Stanley.” He typed a command into the keyboard on the table, and the robot came to life.

“Only one?” asked Mei.

“I’m sending Mortimer and Jefferson soon. I figured Stanley could start working now while I book the others.”

She nodded.

Travis sent a command to Stanley from the computer, and it waddled out of the tent. Once it arrived at the side of the crater, it unfurled its FlexCrete tentacles and got to work. The flippies would collect the rubble and deliver it to a trailer attached to the dirt cab. Travis would then spend several days sorting and cataloging the trash, looking for anything useful. “This should only take an hour,” he said, focusing his attention on Mortimer.

“Sounds good,” said Mei. “I’ll be right back.” She stepped out of the tent and walked toward the dirt cab. It was facing away from the site, the trailer in the back with a lowered ramp to give the flippies easy access. She climbed into the passenger-side seat and placed a call to John.

He opened the line almost immediately. “Hey, what’s up?” He sounded like he was chewing on something.

“What are you eating?” she asked.

“Soy burger,” he said, munching into the food. “Don’t worry. I’ll eat again when you get back.”

“Remember, we’re limited on supplies.”

“I can always run to the commissary.”

She laughed. “How’s it going back there?”

“Bart and I got the tent up like you wanted. Interesting guy. You know he used to be in the military? Weird career change, huh?”

“He’d rather still be there,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“He was kicked out.”

John cocked his brow. “For what?”

“Nothing serious. He aced the physical. He just couldn’t hold a rifle steady.”

“He got the shakes?”

“I guess so. The doctors called it performance anxiety. I’m not so sure, though. He’s the best engineer I’ve ever met, and he works just fine under pressure.”

“Well, good,” said John.

“Say, where are the girls?” asked Mei, changing the subject.

“Dunno. I’m still in the middle of this sandwich.”

She thumbed the dirt cab’s door handle, wrinkling her nose. “Working, probably. Can you see if Zoe needs help with anything, once you’re done eating?”

“Yeah, sure thing. Everything going alright down there?”

“The flippies are lugging debris out of the pit, same as usual.”

“You talk like I know what that means,” said John. He paused. “What the hell’s a flippy?”

“A robot, basically.”

“Since when do you have robots?”

“They’re Travis’s, not mine. He uses them to lift heavy things. They’re pretty useful.”

“You think if I ask him, he’d let me—”

“No, John, they’re not for you to play with,” said Mei.

“Dammit,” he said, sounding defeated. “You never let me have any fun.”

“One of us has to be the adult,” she said, smiling a little. “Besides, you already get to go play soldier whenever you want. Don’t act like your life is so boring.”

“Speaking of, I should probably head out soon. Central gave me orders to map the area, and I haven’t even started yet.”

“Too distracted?”

He snickered, and his voice deepened. “You’re the only distraction I
need
, babe.”

“Oh, my god,” she said, laughing. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle the corny one-liners? They’re pretty classy, I know. It’s okay to feel intimidated. Just don’t tell anyone about my softer side.”

“How embarrassing for you,” she said, giggling. “But I promise not to tell.”

“That’s why I love you,” he said. “You know how to keep a secret.”

Ch
ap
ter
2

Ortego Outpost File Logs

Play Audio File 270

Recorded: April 13, 2350

CURIE
: Excavation is going well. The flippies have removed about two-thirds of the debris. I expect we’ll have the rest out of there by the end of the month.

PRESCOTT:
What about your work on the coil?

CURIE:
Bartholomew is overseeing the repairs. I’ve attached his report, along with my own. He’s making progress, but there’s still more work to be done.

PRESCOTT:
I’m looking it over as we speak, but it’s hardly encouraging. Recovering the coils is your primary objective here. Isn’t it the whole reason you’re there?

CURIE:
Actually, sir, the mission I pitched to the board covered a wide range of—

PRESCOTT:
Yes, yes, of course. Still, the coil was our main concern. We made it clear when we greenlit your project. I hope you are making this a priority.

CURIE:
It’s no less important than anything else we’re doing, I assure you.

PRESCOTT:
It needs to become your primary focus, Doctor Curie. The board keeps badgering me for something more than simple reports. You’ve been up there for months. It’s time to start producing results.

CURIE:
What about the Ortego Disks we’ve taken from the ruins? Aren’t those worth the board’s time?

PRESCOTT:
Fine work, yes, but nothing matches the potential of a brand new source of energy. You can understand their eagerness, I’m sure.

CURIE:
Of course I can, but—

PRESCOTT:
Then I will let the board know you’ll have more to show in next week’s report. Good luck with your work, Doctor Curie. Please don’t let us down.

End Audio File

Ortego Reconstruction Outpost

April 13, 2350

Mei sat in the
conference tent, waiting for the others to arrive. She was fifteen minutes early but didn’t mind the quiet solitude. Sometimes spending a few minutes alone was the best way to work through a problem. In this case, her boss.

Mei hated Prescott. He made her job even more difficult than it should be, which was really saying something.

The last few days had been going so well, too. Travis and his flippies were making noticeable progress clearing the rubble from the Ortego building. Zoe and Sophie had managed to recover and log several dozen Ortego Disks. Bartholomew seemed to be doing well. And John was here. Everything was going so well.

But then she had the conference call with Dr. Prescott, the lowest ranking member of the science division’s project oversight board. He wanted her to put all of her people to work on the Framling Coil project, which meant ignoring everything else. Didn’t he care about the radiation? They still didn’t understand where it was coming from. What about the petabites of information Zoe had found within those Ortego Disks? Weren’t they worth something?

Shortsighted as he might be, this wasn’t entirely Prescott’s fault. When she really sat and thought about it, Mei couldn’t help but blame herself.

Truthfully, the Framling Coil had been a key selling point to greenlighting this project. Mei had approached the board with a request to send a team to assess and potentially recover artifacts from the former Ortego headquarters. In response to this, she received a short, albeit polite rejection. According to the board, Central’s new focus was the expansion and reconstruction of humanity. An archeological dig in the middle of the desert was simply too difficult to justify.

Mei understood the reasoning, but it didn’t stop her from trying again. She reevaluated her proposal and made sure to include some enticing details about the Framling Coils, calling them a significant alternative source of energy, completely independent and self-sustaining. A perfect solution for future outposts.

A few weeks later, she received the authorization she needed. It was a victory.

I guess I should be happy I made it this far
, she thought. Indeed, the chance of her returning to these ruins with any kind of research outfit had been thin at best. So why was she so upset? She got what she wanted, and the work was going well, wasn’t it?

Because you still don’t have any answers
, she heard herself say. Despite the past few months and the smorgasbord of information they’d uncovered, she still couldn’t find any information on the Second Jolt or why the building had been destroyed. More importantly, she still didn’t understand what had happened to Terry. She had so many questions.

If only she could allocate her resources the way she wanted. Why did the board have to micromanage everything?

Maybe if I give them what they want, they’ll leave me alone,
she thought but knew it was a lie. She kicked the table. As soon as she gave them what they wanted, they’d order her home. She had to find another way.

Zoe entered the tent laughing with Travis and Sophie followed closely behind. “Give me a break,” she said. “Mort would kick Jeff’s ass, hands down.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right! Jefferson has a quarter more load capacity, plus his casing is newer. Mortimer wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Dr. Curie, what do you think? Mortimer or Jefferson, who would win in a fight to the death?”

It took Mei a second to realize what they were talking about. “You mean the flippies?” she asked. “Where did this come from?”

Sophie took a seat across from Mei. “Don’t ask me.”

Travis motioned at Sophie before answering. “Zoe here threatened to reprogram the flippies to fight each other. I was against it at first, but she’s got me half-convinced. The only problem is her top pick.” He shook his head at Zoe. “I’m so disappointed in you.”

“We’ll see who’s disappointed when Mort kicks the crap out of Jeff. Give me two days with the little guy. You won’t even recognize him.”

Travis scoffed. “Oh, I see. So you’re going to modify him? Tack on a saw, maybe a flame thrower? You can’t go changing the rules.”

Mei motioned for the two of them to sit. “Is everyone ready to get started? Where’s Bartholomew?”

The flap to the tent opened and Bart walked in. “Over here, boss.” John was right behind him. Mei waited for them to take their seats before she began.

“I received a call this morning from Prescott,” she said.

“What did the little weasel want?” asked Zoe.

Mei went through the entire call, beat for beat, detailing everything Prescott had said.

“Sounds like they’re getting impatient,” said Travis.

“No surprise there,” said Zoe.

“I might have something soon, but I can’t make any promises,” said Bart.

“I need a more concrete answer,” said Mei.

“I get that, but there’s so many problems, big and small. I’m doing everything I can to get one of these buckets up and running. It’s not easy. Tell them we need more time.”

“I already did,” said Mei. She bit the inside of her lip, breaking the skin. She already hated herself for what she was about to ask. “What if I relocate a few people to help?”

He shook his head. “I’m the only one here who knows the first thing about the coils.”

“Except me,” said Travis. “But you need me for the dig.”

“Right,” said Bart.

“Not true,” said Zoe, raising her finger. “Travis has been teaching me how to use the flippies. They’re mostly automated, so all it takes is knowing how to boot them on and shut them down. I can handle it.”

Mei shot a glance at Travis, arching her brow. “When did you have time to teach her about the flippies?”

“The last few times you sent us to the site by ourselves,” said Zoe.

John grinned. “You two were down there alone? My, my.” Mei gave him a stern look that said to shut up. He frowned and stared at the table.

“Bart, are you fine with Travis helping you out?” asked Mei.

He shrugged. “We all have to make sacrifices sometimes.”

“You make it sound like I’m a burden,” said Travis.

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

Mei ignored them and glanced at Zoe. “Are you absolutely certain you can handle the flippies?”

“Better than this guy,” she said, thumbing at Travis and grinning. “But yeah, I can do it.”

“Great. We’re settled. Zoe’s on flippy duty while Travis helps Bart with the Framling Coil.”

“For how long?” asked Travis.

“However long it takes to get one of those machines partially functional. I don’t care if it’s the coil itself or the power supply. We just need something to show the board. We need to give them a distraction.”

******

Unknown Location

April 14, 2350

Today was Terry’s eighteenth birthday. It was also the third year he’d spent on this strange new planet so very far from home.

In the early days, he didn’t move around much, staying close to the spot where the portal had dropped him. The world was unfamiliar, so it was better to stay where he knew it was safe. But when he found there wasn’t a lot of food or resources there, he began to explore further, migrating away. He found better sources of food, better places to camp.

Over the years, he had returned there, but it had become increasingly rare. For the last two years, he only went there on his birthday. An annual pilgrimage.

In those early days and much to his surprise, he’d found a cluster of ancient ruins, seemingly advanced, built and shaped by what he assumed must be an intelligent race of beings, though they had long since vanished. Only their architecture remained—little dome houses overgrown with weeds.

Had the Variant atmosphere killed them, too? The gas had obliterated most of the human race, spreading across the globe and consuming everything. Perhaps these forgotten aliens created it here. For several months, Terry tried to understand who they were, searching through the buildings for answers. But he never found anything substantial. He couldn’t read their language. He couldn’t find any evidence of why they were gone. He had nothing.

The ruins were where the portal left him, so he only saw them when he returned on his birthday. Today he would see them again, the same as he had the year before. It was something to look forward to.

He traveled for half a day through valley and jungle until at last he came upon them, these decrepit, ancient buildings. Vines encased most of the domes, while thick weeds littered much of the ground. Given enough time, he wondered, would the planet take it back? Would it be as though nothing had ever existed here?