Rage (17 page)

“You’re a doctor?”

The cackle came back. “Not exactly. Research is what I do. But I have some of the Mendicants’ herbs. And I know how to sew.”

“Mendicants?”

“They grow the herbs. Sometimes they work. Sometimes they don’t. We’ll see. Now come on, you’ve had that wound just wrapped up for way too long.”

Options, Raine thought. None now but to let this crazy guy look at his wound.

He lay down on the table.

“Well well,” Kvasir said, unwrapping the wound. “Yessir … the nanotrites are definitely doing their work. Almost hard to tell how deep the wound went. Pretty incredible things.” He spread a cream-colored paste on the wound.

It felt cool, and stung when it hit the wound. Other than that, Raine felt nothing.

Kvasir continued. “Those little bastard are good at rebuilding tissue and killing an infection. And I do mean
kill.
”

“In my eyes”—Raine wondered whether Kvasir knew that he could see his recovery appear in front of his eyes—“they show that they’ve still got work to do.”

Kvasir didn’t look up—so no surprise at that, either.

“Oh, sure. You need more time. And I do think you should let me sew it up. Take a long time for them to seal you up. Make new skin, and all that. Couple of days at least. The stitches will help that process—that’s the ticket.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

Kvasir leaned close. His hands still unwashed from their trip, wrinkled, covered with the dust of the desert.

“You know, I don’t really have a local anesthetic. Got something from the Medicants … takes you away a bit. But that’s all.” He sniffed. “It will hurt.”

“I’m okay. Go on.”

Kvasir nodded. He turned and put on plastic gloves, not a pristine pair but a pair he took from a nearby wall.

Then pieces of thread. A needle that looked too big.

Raine looked away.

More steps, and Kvasir was back with some leaves.

“Chew ’em. Chew, turn them into mush. Then swallow.”

Raine took the leaves with his good hand and put them in his mouth.

He started chewing.

In seconds, he seemed to be aware of more things: the sound of Kvasir moving things; the engine outside; the chemical smells, more intense. Then for a moment, he thought he wasn’t really there at all, but back on the desert floor, bleeding out.

Hallucinating that he had been rescued.

He felt the needle go in, except the needle was miles away.

The device with the long arm was above him, now holding a massive magnifying glass above his wound.

The needle began going in and under, then out, pulling its thread, weaving a line to lace the wound tight.

It hurt, but there were so many other sensations to pay attention to.

He barely heard Kvasir say, “Okay, it’s done. Ain’t pretty. But sealed up. The ’trites should have you in good shape by tomorrow.”

The words addressed to someone else. The room suddenly a
warm, sheltering place. His eyes heavy. Sleep seemed irresistible.

He didn’t resist.

He woke up on the same metal table. The room was dark save for a light coming from the other room, the small bedroom he had noticed on his way in. He leaned up, the surreal feel of the room gone, now back to its reality. The pungent smells, but not so intense. The puttering of the generator, but not quite so loud.

He had no idea what time it was.

“Hello? Kvasir?”

Raine looked down at his arm. Definitely not pretty, but the wound was closed. And amazingly, it already had a scab forming down the line of the stitches. He touched it with his other hand.

A bit of a sting, but not bad at all.

He heard feet hit the ground. Kvasir getting off his bed.

Raine used his good arm to sit up.

Kvasir threw a switch, and the room lit up, painfully bright. The scientist frowned and blinked in the light.

“Thought you would sleep till morning.”

“Sorry. Feeling okay. It’s kinda—” He gestured at the table—“hard.”

Kvasir moved his head from side to side. “Yeah, well couldn’t exactly lift you, now could I?” He sniffed again. “I put a cot over there.” He turned away and started shuffling back to his room.

“Thanks, Kvasir. I owe you.”

Without turning around, Kvasir grunted.

“I know.”

As he disappeared into his room, he muttered as to himself, “Doesn’t everybody in this world?”

Nothing for a second.

Then: “Raine. Listen. I’ll tell you things. In the morning.”

Raine wondered what that meant. Things? His debt to him?

Or something else.

“I’ll be here.”

Kvasir made one last barking laugh, and Raine went over to the cot to sleep.

K
vasir hovered over Raine.

“There’s a hot drink for you. Over there,” he said, pointing to a nearby table. “And some food. I guess you’re used to eating the synthetics by now.”

Raine nodded. He took a breath and sat up, rubbing his eyes. How long had he been sleeping?

Not much light got in here.

“Thanks.”

Kvasir was already walking back to his worktable, filled with instruments and trays, his workday—whatever that was—already begun.

The old man sat on a metal stool and peered down at one tray.

“Took a look at your buggy. It’s fine now.”

“The problem?”

Kvasir shook his head. “Fuel line clogged. You can only burn that crap they use for fuel for so long before you have to go in and clean it out.” He looked up from his work. “Didn’t they tell you anything?”

“Not much.”

“Well, you better learn how to repair your buggy yourself or you won’t last long.” A snort. “Not that you’ll last long anyway.”

Raine walked over to a side table. A chipped mug with a hot liquid. Tiny cloud vapors rose from it. Next to it, a chunk of something to eat. Cheese, bread, soy, chemicals? All of the above?

He picked up the warm mug and took it over to Kvasir’s table.

“How long did I sleep?”

“Through the night and most of the day. Guess your ’trites needed time to do the repairs.” He looked up again, eyes narrowed. No cackles yet today. Definitely in a more serious mood. “How’s it feel?”

“Good. I think.” Raine raised his injured arm above his head. “Yeah, almost like nothing happened. Even after the stitches. Guess the nanotrites are one bit of tech from the past … that’s turned out well.”

The laugh. Directed right at Raine. “Oh, really?”

Kvasir dropped the two metal scalpels that he held and they clattered onto a tray. Raine saw that he had been doing something to a rock, a clunky analog microscope nearby.

“You think so?”

Then again the grin.

“Think
again.
”

Kvasir paced as he spoke.

“Sure, the nanotrites are wonderful biomachines. They’d do incredible things for you. Lifesaving things. Or so it seemed.
Then something happened.” He stopped by Raine and looked him right in the eye. “Those miracle machines could turn bad.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Not with everyone, not all at once, but they can take over in a way that nobody saw coming. Instead of healing, the ’trites started changing. Some people just died from them. They were the lucky ones.”

Kvasir’s laughs had vanished. His face was set now, grim.

“You think the asteroid, that radiation, made
all
the muties? Think again, stranger.

“Sure, the asteroid may have made some of them, the subsequent radiation and all that. But when the Authority began experimenting with mutants and the ’trites, suddenly those savages were everywhere.”

“What? The Authority
made
muties?”

Kvasir shrugged. “Word is they took people, prisoners, and regular mutants, too … and let the nanotrites take over. Maybe like those things you left dead on the desert floor.” He sniffed the air. “Bottom line, they turned people into muties using the nanotrites, and also made the mutants
worse.
” He took a breath. “Nice folk, huh?”

“And they just let them out, let them escape?”

Kvasir grew quiet. Not saying anything, as if he had something secret and debated telling Raine. “I don’t know.”

Not true, Raine thought.

“Who knows? In the end, who cares? They got out. They spread. The fact is that these new mutants loaded with ’trites became like a plague, a disease. Something that could be passed on. You’re already infected, so at least you don’t have to worry about any muties taking a bite out of you!”

Another barking laugh from the old man.

Raine reached out and grabbed Kvasir’s arm. “You mean to say I’m going to turn into a mutant?”

“Are you listening? Hell, doesn’t seem like your ears are working too well. Something can trigger the change. Doesn’t hit everyone. You could be one of the safe ones. He paused, then:

“I wouldn’t bet on it, though.”

“When will this happen?”

“You’re new. The ’trites inside you have been sleeping as well. Could be months from now. Years. Maybe never. The Authority spent years trying to find out what triggered it and how to control it. In the end, any of the Ark survivors left opted to have the nanotrites removed. Your best option, too, friend.” Another laugh. “Kind of an exclusive club.”

“I should get them removed, then,” Raine said.

“In good time. Don’t think anyone ever had them turn this early. For now they help you, work for you. Eventually, you’ll have to get them out.”

“And then … the mutants will become even more dangerous to me.”

“Yeah—just like the rest of us … Gotta say, though … most people don’t know much about this. Most think it’s just the asteroid. And that was part of it. Strange type of rock, I tell you. It’s why I’m working here.” He nodded, then picked up the chunk of rock on the table. “Something unknown, something strange inside that rock. And I want to find out what it is.”

Kvasir put it back down on the table in front of Raine.

Raine’s eyes moved to the table. The chunk of rock on a tray. Thin slivers of a strange material on smaller trays.

“Wait. You mean—
that’s
part of the asteroid?”

“It’s called feltrite. The core material of Apophis. The rock that changed everything.” He started laughing, degenerating into a cough, his mad humor probably the only thing that kept him sane.

If indeed he was sane.

“I promised you secrets. And you know what, Ark man … I keep my promises.”

He started walking to the door.

“Come outside. You have some decisions to make. Some
options.
”

They sat on a metal chest, like a footlocker.

From this porch—itself a piece of wavy metal that bounced if they shifted their weight—Raine could look out at the nearby hills and the metal bridge.

For the first time, he got a sense of the world here.

“Sun’s going down.” Kvasir looked over at him. “Gets even more dangerous out there in the dark.”

“Guess I won’t leave today. First thing tomorrow.”

Kvasir spit, sending it flying past the porch. Though it looked clear, Raine could taste a salty grit, the fine dust and sand from the desert, filling the air and coating his lips.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Wellspring. Only place I know to go. Been told I can disappear there.”

“Disappear,” he snorted. “You know, you are a
prize
, Raine. An Ark survivor. You know things. You could be useful. Though not based on your buggy-fixing abilities.” A cackle.

Raine ignored the laugh. “You mean for the Authority?”

“They won’t stop looking for you. They
will
find you. At best, you will be their prisoner. At worst, they will kill you. They have killed so many others. And some end up as prisoners—the scientists, the researchers—trapped in Capital Prime working for the Visionary.”

“And who the hell is that?”

“Leader of the Authority. Don’t know much about him. There
are theories. Point is, they have all the power. The guns. The science. Everywhere you see, and beyond—it’s all
their
world.”

“And you’re saying they won’t let me be?”

“That’s for sure.”

“So I go somewhere else?”

Kvasir turned and looked at him.

“Yes—and no. Okay, Ark man. Now I gotta just take a chance I can trust you. Can I trust you, Raine?”

“What do you think?”

“Anyone ever talk to you about the Resistance?”

“Resistance? Dan Hagar mentioned that some people were against the Authority. But he didn’t say anything about—”

“Good. Best people like him not know too much or tell too much. They might leave him alone, and his settlement. The Authority needs the settlements. For supplies, to keep people in check. But there is a resistance; there are people who fight back.”

Kvasir gestured at the open spaces of the Wasteland that lay before them.

“They have a ‘vision,’ too. Free people. Sharing the science, all the goods from the past. Sharing what was found after Apophis. Instead of it all going to Capital Prime.” He took a breath. “That’s where I think you belong, my friend. With the Resistance.”

For a few moments Raine didn’t say anything. “I was sent here on orders. You know. A mission.”

“Yeah. To protect people. The survivors. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s how the hell you’ll do it, friend.”

Another pause. Raine felt that this strange world just grew a bit stranger … and even more dangerous.

“I guess I could talk to them.”

Kvasir raised an arm.

“Look. See over on that hill there? Some muties. Just about
dusk they gather. Always want to get here. But my little traps on the bridge stop them.” Another spit at the rock. The gesture belied the confidence of Kvasir’s words. He took a breath.

“Fuck you!” he yelled at them.

“How do I find them. This Resistance?”

Kvasir turned back to Raine. He reached out and gave his arm a squeeze exactly where the arm had been wounded. No pain.

Incredible.

But frightening now, too, since Raine knew the nanotrites were like time bombs ready to explode his humanity.