A Girl Called Badger (Valley of the Sleeping Birds) (26 page)

 

All applications come directly from the USAR performance research, save one. The power requirements on the electrochemical system were too great for the enhancements to be used constantly, and so a recovery application was developed (See H1). Application were first triggered with external controls by microtransponders but over time were transferred to OTC mental precipitators in the temporal lobe. Vajrayana Buddhist meditation techniques and Tantric imagery were integrated into the system. Subjects found personal ways to activate the applications through imagery and chants, or “upaya-kaushalya.”

 

This manual is intended only as a reference. Actual training of applications must be under observation as initial use can be traumatic. Depending upon the application, the subject can experience fatigue, headaches, nausea, dyspnea, hypercardia, hyperpnea, or tonic-clonic seizure. In extreme situations organ failure has been observed. Exercises should always be followed by the H1 cool-down and meditation forms.

 

Applications have been separated into five categories based upon the general systems enhanced. Appropriate levels from beginner to advanced have been indicated. All performance is relative to fitness and training of subject.

 

Each sub-section had an associated list and Wilson looked at the top one in each.

 

(R1) Pravega

This application increases adrenaline production 200% and response time by a factor of five. Agility and reaction to stimuli greatly increased relative to observers.
Level: Advanced
Imagery: Fire
Chant:

                 Heart made of flame

                 Heart made of spark

                 Heart made of sun

                 Speed my hand

 

(S1) Bahubala

This application enhances the force output of the musculoskelatal system. Force output in excess of 3000 newtons has been measured.
Level: Intermediate
Imagery: Stone, Rock, Steel
Chant:

                 Arm made of stone

                 Arm made of steel

                 Arm made of earth

                 Push my hand

 

(E1) Sarati

This application increases cardiovascular performance through delivery of additional oxygen to muscles, reduction of lactic acid production, and increase in dopamine levels. Subject running distance observed to commonly increase by 150%. Application can be used for several hours with training.
Level: Beginner
Imagery: Water or River
Chant:

                 Feet on the rain

                 Feet on the river

                 Feet in the sky

                 Hold my heart

 

(H1) Ayurveda

This application will reduce pain messages to the central nervous system. Adrenaline levels are also reduced and produce a calming effect. Used to recover from other applications or physical exertion.
Level: Beginner
Imagery: Ice or water
Chant:

                 Breath made of ice

                 Breath made of water

                 Breath made of fog

                 Calm my heart

 

Wilson heard the sound of breaking glass and looked up. Badger had pushed her arm through a window next to the pair of white doors. Across both doors, faint letters spelled “Clean Room Entry Point.”

Wilson walked over. “Need help?”

“No, I just wanted to look in here.”

Badger pushed the door open to a tiny white room that seemed like an entranceway. White jumpsuits and goggles hung from the walls or were piled on the floor. Another door faced them, labeled “Clean Suit Only.”

Badger pointed to the manual. “What’d you find?”

“Tricks, tricks, and more tricks. The few I know and more.”

“What about the ‘damage control’ thing?”

“It’s a medical healing override.”

Badger grabbed his jacket. “Yes! That’s exactly what I need. I’m damaged.”

“You’re so precious. No, it seems like a last resort after traumatic injury.”

“Trau–what? Stop using big words.”

“Sorry,” said Wilson. “How about this? Heap big hurt.”

“That’s better.”

“Anyway, the manual says to press four dashes and one dot, then you go into a coma to heal. I don’t think you want to be in a coma.”

“Not really, dear. You paw at me enough when I’m awake.”

“Ha ha ha.”

Badger walked around the white room and looked at the racks of goggles and masks.

“Be careful,” she said.

“I don’t see any danger symbols. This is probably just a workshop.”

“I mean with this book, Will. You can’t over-use the tricks. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m a fast learner.”

Badger pulled the latch on the facing door. “Sometimes fast is slow and slow is fast.”

The door opened easily. Light from the lantern glowed over tables loaded with silver machines and glass objects. More rows of industrial workstations filled the room.

One table held only a yellowed square of paper. Wilson brushed away a fine coat of dust and revealed crude, handwritten lines.

 

To anyone from 3rd SES,
Infection everywhere. Taking all portables and sequencer to Altmann. Shelter in place or raise me on Milcom Red 7.
––Jack Garcia

 

“Don’t tell me ...” said Badger.

Wilson sighed. “It’s gone. Whatever a sequencer might have been, it’s gone.”

“This Garcia says he took it to Altmann. That’s the old name for Station,” said Badger.

“I’m not going back in the tunnels.”

“There’s still the place you didn’t want to look.”

Wilson brushed dust from his jacket. “Right.”

“Because no one goes down to the Tombs doesn’t mean–”

“I know! But maybe this Jack Garcia never made it back to Station. Even if he did, we have to keep searching. We’ve come too far to miss something.”

They turned the room upside-down and discovered nothing but an allergy to dust.

“I’ll see if there’s anything else in the books,” said Wilson.

They walked to the other room and he searched through the shelves again.

Badger sneezed. “What about the blacked-out codes?”

“Too dangerous. These people seemed to be very serious about safety.”

Wilson selected a few books that looked interesting but were also light. He followed Badger up the ladder to the basement and replaced the hatch cover. On the ground floor the two young people blinked like moles in the sunshine.

In a corner of the lobby, Badger split the dried venison and fruit. Wilson sat next to her but didn’t touch any of it.

“It’s all my fault,” he said.

Badger bit into an apple. “Not really.”

“Maybe if I’d searched harder at Station we could have found the sequencer. And my father would be alive. All of this has been one stupid mistake after another.”

“Does it make you feel better? Blaming yourself?”

“I’m not an animal. I can’t simply exist. I have to think about what I did.”

“Forget the past and think about the present. Or, I break fingers.”

“Whose fingers?”

“Yours.”

“Me?” Wilson pointed to his chest. “You want a piece of this?”

Badger smirked. “You haven’t got a piece to give.”

“Right!”

Wilson grabbed her and they wrestled on the floor. She suddenly held a hand over his mouth. Wilson saw the look on her face and froze. Badger pointed to the far end of the hallway.

Something made of metal fell on the concrete and the clatter echoed like a shot. Wilson crawled forward and looked around the corner.

Six tribals crept in his direction. They carried rifles and wore green or dark red tunics. A black tattoo of thorns––the sign of the Circle––marked all of their faces.

One spotted Wilson and panicked, firing his rifle with a boom of charcoal smoke. The corridor exploded with noise and gray chips of concrete as the rest opened fire.

Badger and Wilson grabbed their weapons and backpacks and ran down the stairwell to the old lab. Wilson opened the hatch and they clambered down. He shoved a metal bar through the latch mechanism and lit his lantern for the third time that day.

“Now we’re trapped.”

Badger pointed across the room. “What about the big door?”

They ran to the security door on the opposite side of the room. Wilson pulled with both hands on a vertical red bar.

“Here goes nothing!”

The latch clicked and he pushed the heavy door slowly. The green-clad tribals could be heard shouting throughout the building. The pair ran as quietly as possible to the fourth floor.

Wilson slid next to a window and listened to the voices outside. He took a second to glance out the window then crawled away. Badger had checked and loaded both crossbows.

“At least twenty outside,” he whispered. “Two transports.”

Badger nodded and held a finger to her lips. She pointed at the door. Wilson took his crossbow and moved a few feet away. He found a metal table with only two legs and turned it on the side to create some cover. He lay prone behind the right side and Badger took the left.

The sound of a tribal yelling orders filtered in from the window. From what Wilson could hear, this man wanted them alive. He thumbed a shell into the empty sixth cylinder of his pistol and set it nearby, then opened the breech of his rifle and checked the round.

Wilson thought about blocking the doors but they opened into the stairwell. He wondered if the strange men had tracked them across the plains or if this was just bad luck.

He pulled the manual from his pack and read over a few sections. All of the tricks seemed practical. He guessed that Badger knew an endurance or strength trick. He turned to the emergency codes and tried to read behind the blacked-out lines.

Footsteps shuffled behind the door. Wilson stuffed the manual in his jacket and looked down the sights of his bow. Badger touched his shoulder. She pointed to herself and held up one finger. Wilson guessed she wanted the first shot.

The door scraped open. The barrel of a rifle appeared, followed by a scrawny tribal. A wispy brown beard covered his face and on his green cap were three interlocking silver circles. Metal trinkets covered his leather coat.

A click from Badger. Her bolt slammed into his upper chest. The tribal screamed and fell back through the doorway. The door jammed against his legs and stayed open. A man tried to pull the body away and Wilson shot him through the eye. A second looked over the railing and Badger knocked his hat off with a bolt.

Both reloaded as whispers filled the stairwell. Outside the shouting had stopped.

Badger made a rapid circle with her hand. They grabbed everything and moved to a corner farther down the hallway. Badger put down her pack and lay prone to face the first stairwell. Wilson covered the other.

“Trapped again,” he murmured.

“Cover your side,” said Badger.

They heard muffled steps and four armed men burst through the stairwell doors. Badger dropped the first man with a bolt, then picked up her rifle and fired and reloaded.

The door on Wilson’s side scraped open and a mass of green-capped tribals rushed in. Wilson hit the first one below the belt and he crumpled. Chips of concrete and dust sprayed around Wilson as the others fired. He reloaded and shot back from cover. The men leapfrogged from doorway to doorway as they ran up the corridor.

Wilson waited for a good target. He hit one of the men in the arm with the next shot and another in the belly. The last man tried to hide in a doorway but a bullet from Badger’s rifle went through his hand. She missed the next shot and the man jumped back down the stairwell.

A breeze whistled through the empty windows of the building. It carried the stench of blood and body odor.

“Probably time to leave,” said Wilson.

“We’re on the top floor. Don’t tell me that book taught you to fly.”

“Almost. I’ve got a rope.”

Wilson heard a bouncing clatter and a small metal tube rolled through the corridor. A fuse spun bright orange circles at one end.

“Back!” yelled Wilson.

They scrambled into the room. Metal shards cracked through the air and skidded down the corridor.

“Okay, time to leave,” said Badger.

Wilson pulled the coil of rope from his pack and eyeballed the length.

“It’s not going to reach all the way,” he said.

Badger leaned out the window. “I have an idea.” She whispered in his ear.

Wilson couldn’t see anyone down below, but he could hear shouts. Another bang rattled through the corridor.

“Now or never,” he said.

They dropped all their gear into the bushes four floors down. Each tied an end of the rope around their waist with a bowline. Badger braced her legs against the wall. Wilson slid over the edge and used to rope for support. He made it down two stories and climbed through a window, then braced his legs at the wall. Badger appeared a minute later. The rope had been only for backup; she’d used ledges on the outside wall to climb down.

“You’re good,” said Wilson.

Badger shrugged. “Untie the rope.”

They pulled off the bowlines and Wilson secured one end to the window frame with a follow-through. Badger held the rope as he went out the window and slid to the ground. The rope burned hot through his gloves. He found his rifle in the bushes and watched Badger slide down. Ten feet from the ground she tensed up like she was holding her breath, and let go.

Wilson half-caught her and they both fell into the sharp, leafy bushes. Badger’s entire body shook and her eyes had rolled back.

Wilson would have cursed if he had the time. He rested for a few seconds then struggled out of the bushes with Badger’s limp body. Eager shouts of discovery came from the floors above as he pushed up the sleeve of her jacket.

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