Danger's Race Read online

  “I’m not part of any tribe,” he snarled, getting feisty, which was better since I could hear him more clearly when he was angry. “I’ve been living in here, in this dome, on my own for the last forty-three years.”

  My face reflected my surprise. I took a few steps forward. “How do you get enough food and water out here by yourself?”

  “I have everything I need below,” he replied. “I get along just fine.”

  “Nobody comes to check on you?” Case asked, his voice full of the same skepticism.

  “Occasionally, a soul will drift by,” he conceded. “But not too often.”

  “So, you’re admitting that there’s a tribe nearby,” I said. A soul didn’t just drift by in a remote place like this. There was definitely more to the story, but he didn’t trust us yet. I didn’t blame him. The more I studied him, the more ancient and grizzled he seemed. His hair stuck up in tufts all over his head. Skin sagged around his face, and his eyes were heavily lidded and creased from the passing of time. He was surviving, but it didn’t exactly look like a stellar life.

  I whistled, alerting Daze that the coast was clear.

  “Yes,” the man answered cagily. “There are people nearby.”

  He was playing with us. “We just came to ask you a few questions. We mean no harm,” I said. “We know there’s a tribe near here, which you’ve now confirmed, possibly made up of scientists a long time ago.” I didn’t add that he looked like he fit the description of a scientist, especially if one inserted the word mad in front of it. “We need to know if there’s one who had a child by the name of Tandor. It could be a surname, we’re not sure. It’s critical we find his father, or his old residence, and time is of the essence.”

  The old man squinted at me, his eyelids almost fully covering his eyes, like I was trying to deceive him. He studied me, analyzing if what I was saying was true or not. His expression took on a hardened look, which was impressive since his skin was so slack.

  I could see the moment he decided he wasn’t going to cooperate.

  His bushy white eyebrows shot up while his lips went down, forming a nice, tight line. He didn’t have any allegiance to us. He owed us nothing.

  At that moment, Daze barreled around the corner, out of breath and grinning. “I just saw the coolest thing!” he called as he ran, oblivious to anything around him. We were going to have to work on that. Just because I’d whistled didn’t mean he could launch himself freely into the fray without checking it out first. “I was watching the sea, and it lit up. I swear! There were all these small dots, and they blinked yellow. I saw it! I’m not lying.” He skidded to a stop in front of us.

  I watched the old man’s face as he took in the child. It changed almost imperceptibly, but it was enough.

  We had an in.

  Daze was the piece we needed to get through the door.

  I ruffled the kid’s hair, redirecting him around so he was positioned in front of the stranger. “I believe you. Blinking yellow in the sea is a good thing,” I told him. “This is…” I inclined my head toward the man.

  “Walt,” the old man answered.

  “Walt was just about to invite us inside.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When Walt didn’t graciously offer to usher us into his dome home, I settled both my hands on Daze’s shoulders and propelled him forward. “Daze, go show Walt what Maisie can do.” Getting this stubborn old man to cooperate with us was going to take some finesse.

  “Um, okay.” Without hesitation, the kid fished the status egg out of his pocket as he moved. Daze wasn’t even tentative about it. He darted up to the man like they’d been friends forever. I smiled.

  As Daze unwrapped the prize, Case moved to stand next to me. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low. “We don’t need to get inside. We just need him to answer a few questions, then we can move on.”

  “I’m building trust. You should take notes,” I whispered. “This guy knows the answers to our questions. I can see it in his eyes. But he’s not ready to help us. He’s been around a long time, and I want more than a few questions answered. I want a conversation. He could be Tandor’s father, for all we know. He’s certainly old enough. Five minutes with Daze and we’re in, I guarantee it.” I shot Case a questioning glance. “Aren’t you at all curious about what he has down there?” I motioned toward the dome. “I mean, how has he survived out here for all these years on his own? Yeah, he doesn’t look like he’s in the greatest shape, but look how old he is. People in the city don’t live that long.” So many questions. “You said there was a rumor about scientists living here. When I just mentioned it, he wasn’t surprised at all. His bushy eyebrows didn’t even waggle. We just need to gain a little trust, then the answers will be ours.”

  Daze was busy chattering, his palms lofted forward. Walt bent over, reaching his hand out. “You can’t touch it,” Daze cautioned. “The oil on your fingertips can mess up the sensors.”

  “No, they won’t, boy,” Walt said, plucking the egg up in his fist. “These things were made with silica-shell technology. It’s durable, like triple-extra-hard polymer, and allows the owner to interact however they wish, protecting everything inside.”

  I elbowed Case and inclined my head. “See? He knows stuff. My money is on him being a scientist.”

  “Fine,” Case said. “But we can’t stay out here all day. If anyone comes to investigate, it’s going to be an issue.”

  I turned in a circle, shielding my eyes with my hand to keep some of the precip off my face, since I had my visor retracted. “It looks like there’s a path in the scrub over there.” I gestured to the side, trying to be discreet. “If people stop by once in a while, they must come that way. It must be close enough to walk.”

  “Could be, or they could have a craft,” Case said.

  “Walt’s going to help us,” I said. “I’m sure of it. But maybe we can offer him something to close the deal. You have some spare clothes in the craft. How about we offer him new duds in exchange for the information we need?”

  Case made a face. “I’m not giving that old man my clothing,” he said. “Not to mention, everything I have would droop more on him than what he’s already wearing.”

  That was true.

  Case was a big man, and Walt was little more than a stooped-over skeleton. I shrugged. “Well, I’m sure there’s something we can find that he’d be willing to trade for. People always need something. And being so far out, there is a high likelihood we have something he’ll bargain for.”

  Daze’s voice went up several octaves. “Holly! You have to see this.” I placed my Gem in my waistband and made my way to his side. “Do it again, Walt,” the kid commanded.

  Walt held Maisie in his hand. “Status reader, access your archives.” The egg lit up, shooting colors every which way. “Give us the sound of a horse.”

  A moment later, there was a distinct whinny.

  I knew it was the right noise, because I’d heard horses sound exactly like that in the video feed I played on my wall screen at my residence in the canals.

  Daze glanced at me, his eyes wide. “She has tons of memory. Way more than we thought.”

  “This is a special egg. It’s a military special. You can see by these markings right here.” Walt turned the egg over and pointed to some micro-etchings that consisted of barely legible letters and numerals.

  “You’ve had some experience with status readers,” I said to Walt.

  “Sure,” he replied casually, his voice full of the kind of vibration that comes with old age, each syllable shaking slightly. “I even helped design some. Once upon a time, my brain was pretty quick. Not so much anymore.” He scratched his head, causing his sparse hair to spread in different directions.

  “You’re a scientist, then?” I asked carefully. I didn’t want to spook him when it seemed he was warming to us.

  “I guess that’s a fair assessment,” he replied as he turned toward the opening of his home. “A bit more t
han that, some would say. I was an astrophysicist in my former life. Ironically, I studied the stars and their trajectory in my early years, but I couldn’t stop the meteor from decimating this planet.” There was a real sadness in his voice. “I don’t call myself an astrophysicist anymore. When you can’t see the sky, there’s nothing much to study. I’m simply a scientist.”

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  The old man took a step over the threshold. “I lost track of birthdays long ago. But I’m pushing the century mark, as far as I can gather.” He arced a gnarled hand in front of him as he began to descend. “What are you waiting for? Come in and get out of the rain. Close up behind you.”

  Daze followed along happily, a constant stream of chatter ensuing.

  I went next, giving Case a casual I told you so nod as he followed.

  The steps were utilitarian, metal with a sharp descent, handrails on both sides. Case shut the door with a loud clank, engaging the giant dead bolt behind him.

  Once we were at the bottom, the space opened up far beyond the confines of the dome above, much larger than I’d anticipated. It was brightly lit. In fact, there were lights all over. Some regular, some UV. I knew they were UV because of the pale-yellow glow they emitted. But also, because they were illuminating plants.

  Green plants.

  Real vegetation.

  I rushed over to one of the long tables that held several large lamps, trying to regain the breath that had just left my body. “You’re growing things down here?” I exclaimed.

  “Of course I am,” he replied, shuffling to my side. “The whole world should be growing things.”

  I turned, sputtering, “But…but…there’s not enough UV bulbs to go around. And no seeds.” I shouldn’t have to state the obvious to a scientist. Although, it was rumored that the government had access to seeds, but what they did with them was a mystery.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “It’s a terrible thing that we don’t have enough light. No one anticipated a disaster such as this, so the quantities of UV lamps were not nearly on the scale we needed. It’s a real problem.” The old man’s tone turned jovial, surprising me. “But with the light we do have, we should be constantly growing things!” He held up a single gnarled finger to emphasize his point. “That’s the problem with the world today. We don’t look to the future. We only focus on the here and now. The seeds we do have will multiply if they are allowed to grow. The problem solves itself.” Walt walked over to another table that held a bunch of seedlings, lightly pressing the soft growth between his fingertips and sighing.

  I turned around, gripping the table for support, as I took in the rest of the room. It was a full-blown laboratory, at least five times bigger than the dome above us, spreading out under the earth.

  It was divided into stations, each one dedicated to something unique.

  Walt was a busy man, and I was in awe.

  Case moved to another table, his face full of the kind of wonder that had to mirror my own. “You’re making slurry?” he asked, stopping at a table that held a large 3-D bio-printer. Case picked up something. It looked amazing—like real food.

  Not a protein cake.

  Food food.

  It was a rich black color, not the molten brown we were used to.

  I rushed toward him, almost without knowing I was moving. “What is that?” I said, my voice low, like if I said anything too loudly, the thing in his hand would disappear.

  Walt chuckled as he made his way toward us. “Go ahead, take a bite.”

  Case glanced at it skeptically, bringing it to his nose to take a sniff. Then he broke the thing in half. It came apart freely, not crumbling at all, and he handed a piece to me. The inside looked soft and spongy. It was black and shaped like a ball but with a square bottom.

  I held it to my nose, like Case had.

  It smelled good, but I didn’t have a name for it. I’d never scented anything like it before. I further broke my piece in half and handed a portion to Daze, who’d come to stand by us.

  Tentatively, I put it to my lips.

  Once inside my mouth, it disintegrated over my tongue, the flavor sweet and delicious. I closed my eyes, and a low hum issued from my throat. I savored the texture, wanting to remember how it tasted. I barely had to chew. It was over too soon. I opened my eyes. “What was that?”

  Walt appeared delighted. “That, my girl, was a chocolate cupcake. Back in my day, we had an abundance of them at places called bakeries. They produced sweet confections like that on a daily basis, in mass quantities. With the invention of bio-printers, anything was possible, and even the lowliest baker could become a master.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said as Daze made a sound of delight next to me. “How do you have the ability to make food taste delicious? All the city can make are dry, crumbly protein cakes.”

  “Like your husband said”—Walt gestured at Case—“it’s about the slurry. These old printers were finicky.” He affectionately patted the machine on the table. “Most of them were in desperate need of upgrades before that fateful day. They required that the molecules come separated before you added them to the printer. If you didn’t separate, it couldn’t make heads or tails of what you wanted, so it just blurred everything together. It made food—just not food that tasted very good. The protein cakes of today.” He slid the empty plate to the side. “In the days leading up to the meteor strike, the slurry came individually packaged. It was produced in specialized facilities and shipped out the moment you needed it. Then, according to a particular recipe, you added the exact portions of the right things. We don’t have that luxury today, and no one remembers or has the means to separate the atoms on a molecular scale.”

  I glanced at the empty plate, longing for more of that unbelievable cupcake. “How do you separate them?”

  “I have a micro-centrifuge—but more importantly, I know the recipes. All the information is right where I need it.” He tapped a bent finger against his temple. “It’s been some of my life’s work to perfect the bio-printing process. I think I’ve done a magnificent job. I watched you enjoy that cupcake, and that makes me proud.”

  “I did enjoy it. Congratulations,” I said. “Your life’s work is delicious.” Nutrients coupled with flavor was an entirely new concept. “Can I ask how you ended up here?” I glanced around the room again.

  His face grew serious as he shuffled over to a chair, turning to sit slowly. “I left the city during a very dark time—fled is more accurate. Immediately following the disaster, there was widespread panic and desperation, as you can imagine. But once that subsided, a sense of communal purpose grew. We all banded together with the sole endeavor of saving the human race.” He shook his head sadly. “But it didn’t last for more than three to four years at most. As the resources dwindled, different factions vied for power. There was warring within the government. Darkness and greed took over, and we scientists escaped before we were killed, or worse. The folks who had gained control weren’t interested in science or furthering mankind. They believed the world would come to an end sooner than later, so why bother? They craved power, hoarding what resources they could. Any who opposed would be killed. It’s not like we were living quiet lives. We were working for the government. We were forced to make a choice. Coming here meant we could carry on our work.”

  “How many years ago was that?” Case asked. “I can understand escaping when times are tough, but once the government changed over and again established aid for the people, why didn’t you return?”

  “Well, by that time, we’d established ourselves here.” He shrugged his thin shoulders. “Many years went into building these dome homes. We had a small but viable community. We were busy working on cures, food solutions, AI and LiveBot-compatible software, everything you can dream of. We were doing our best to find a way to move this decimated planet forward and felt that doing it from here was just as effective. Who knew when the government would change once again?”

  “We apprecia
te your efforts to continue your work against all odds,” I said. “But how were you planning on sharing everything you’ve learned with the rest of the population? The city, which has nearly forty thousand residents, less than in your time I’m sure, sinks deeper into ruins with each passing year. We’re facing full extinction in a very short period of time.” I walked over to a chair opposite Walt’s and sat, sliding off my helmet. “No one has benefited from your efforts, at least that I’ve seen. Why is that?”

  He scratched his head. “That’s not an easy question to answer. The years went by very quickly, it’s true. We were making real progress, and then…Goldbright happened.”

  “Goldbright?” I prodded when he didn’t readily proceed.

  “He led us astray, you see,” Walt said.

  I didn’t see, but I gave him time to answer.

  “We gave him our data, our experiments, our seeds.” Walt gestured to the station set up with the ultraviolet lights, emerald-green tendrils brimming out of carbon pots. I’d honestly never seen anything so invigoratingly beautiful. It was the same color green as the grass in the video feed on my screen at home, and I was having a hard time believing it actually existed in our world today. “He said he was taking our findings to the city, sharing them with the government and with other scientists who remained there. He came back many times to report that our work was helping people in need, and like fools, we believed him.” Walt appeared defeated, his shoulders drooping even more.

  “What happened then?” Case asked gently, leaning back against the edge of the stairwell, crossing his arms. We were all rapt. It seemed this man had lived through it all.

  “He left.” Walt’s voice was nothing more than a shaky whisper.

  “Left where?” I asked.

  But I already knew.

  “The Flotilla.” The old man slumped forward, the lump on his back looking cumbersome. He looked like he’d topple off that chair if he so much as sneezed. “Goldbright took years upon years of our work and sailed away without looking back.” Sounded like a familiar story. “We were devastated.”