Read Online Early Byrd by Phil Geusz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Phil Geusz
Tags: adventure, Rebellion, postapocalyptic, Aliens, first contact, guns, space, phil, geusz, artemu
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his head. "I'm sorry, sir. Should
I?"
"I'm a Regional Vice President of the Rocky
Mountain Free State." He nodded at Yukon. "He's our Senior
Vice-President."
Tim and I looked at each other, but the name
didn't ring a bell for either of us.
"Ah!" Li replied, looking suitably impressed
even though I was fairly certain he'd never heard of them either.
Then he looked down again. "You're right. I should've guessed."
"Damn straight!" Sam declared. "We're the
biggest, most powerful legitimate government on the continent!"
"'Legitimate' meaning non-collaborationist,
of course" Linda explained. "Someday soon we'll be running it all!
And then you'll see the fleabags running in terror, by god!"
"By god!" Yukon echoed from his seat at the
helm. Apparently he could hear a lot better than he'd let on. "But
for now . . . Linda, cover the prisoners, and Sam, go tend to the
bow line. Our last stop is just around the next bend."
14
The cabin didn't look like much— wasn't much,
actually, until you realized only a small part was above ground.
From the outside, it was just another trapper's shack with a
half-collapsed roof and a set of beat-up solar panels tracking the
sun. But the visible part was only a sort of vestibule, which also
served as a combination guard post and kitchen. Two armed men sat
there, and they didn't smile at us. Down below there was a long
series of tunnels—we never saw the ends, so I don't have any idea
how far back into the hill they went. Maybe it was an abandoned
gold mine.
The upper shafts were dry and relatively
clean, insofar as anything with a dirt floor can be clean. While
there was always a dank chill in the air, at least our hosts had
provided Tim and me with our own room, complete with bunk beds and
heavy quilts.
"I get the upper!" Tim declared the second
we were ushered in; he beat me to it largely because the lower bed
was made up with a comforter identical to the one I'd left behind
in Montana, with cartoon race cars all over it. I guess the sight
sort of threw me; so much had happened in so little time!
"I'm afraid we don't have TV way out here,"
Sam said from the door as we explored our new domain. "Nor much in
the way of video games or even inside plumbing, though I've
requested some handheld thingies for you to play with. Right now
all we’ve got are a few magazines, and most of them, ah . . .
aren’t suitable for the young. So it's going to be pretty boring
for a while. Beats being taken hostage though, right?"
"Oh, yeah!" Tim agreed, and I matched his
big smile with my own. "Thank you so much for rescuing us,
sir."
He smiled back and stood taller. "Linda's
going to whip us up some breakfast, as promised. But the truth of
the matter is that we've got quite a bit to do before we're settled
in right and proper, and neither of you two has had much chance to
rest. So . . . how about a nice nap first? That's one good thing
about being underground—you can make it be nighttime whenever you
like."
We smiled back. "All right," I was the one
who answered this time. "But wake us up for the flapjacks!"
"Sure thing!" Sam promised. Then he was
gone, leaving the room illuminated by a single LED. It wasn't very
bright.
"I'm so tired!" Tim said, louder than he
really needed to. Just like he did when he wanted to mislead Mom
and Dad about something they didn't need to know about. He nodded
at the magazines—there was a pen lying right next to them. How
convenient!
"Me too!" I agreed, also too loudly and thus
seconding the motion that we should definitely try and get away
with something.
"Let's hit the hay, then."
We stripped down to our underwear and
settled in under the comforters. It was nice and warm and soft
there, and for a moment I almost fell asleep for real. Then, as
expected, a ballpoint with a slip of slick magazine paper stuck
under its clip fell from the bed above mine and onto my pillow. It
was just barely light enough to read the thing. " Got to move fast," it read. "Li, Rapput
I?"
"I'm a Regional Vice President of the Rocky
Mountain Free State." He nodded at Yukon. "He's our Senior
Vice-President."
Tim and I looked at each other, but the name
didn't ring a bell for either of us.
"Ah!" Li replied, looking suitably impressed
even though I was fairly certain he'd never heard of them either.
Then he looked down again. "You're right. I should've guessed."
"Damn straight!" Sam declared. "We're the
biggest, most powerful legitimate government on the continent!"
"'Legitimate' meaning non-collaborationist,
of course" Linda explained. "Someday soon we'll be running it all!
And then you'll see the fleabags running in terror, by god!"
"By god!" Yukon echoed from his seat at the
helm. Apparently he could hear a lot better than he'd let on. "But
for now . . . Linda, cover the prisoners, and Sam, go tend to the
bow line. Our last stop is just around the next bend."
14
The cabin didn't look like much— wasn't much,
actually, until you realized only a small part was above ground.
From the outside, it was just another trapper's shack with a
half-collapsed roof and a set of beat-up solar panels tracking the
sun. But the visible part was only a sort of vestibule, which also
served as a combination guard post and kitchen. Two armed men sat
there, and they didn't smile at us. Down below there was a long
series of tunnels—we never saw the ends, so I don't have any idea
how far back into the hill they went. Maybe it was an abandoned
gold mine.
The upper shafts were dry and relatively
clean, insofar as anything with a dirt floor can be clean. While
there was always a dank chill in the air, at least our hosts had
provided Tim and me with our own room, complete with bunk beds and
heavy quilts.
"I get the upper!" Tim declared the second
we were ushered in; he beat me to it largely because the lower bed
was made up with a comforter identical to the one I'd left behind
in Montana, with cartoon race cars all over it. I guess the sight
sort of threw me; so much had happened in so little time!
"I'm afraid we don't have TV way out here,"
Sam said from the door as we explored our new domain. "Nor much in
the way of video games or even inside plumbing, though I've
requested some handheld thingies for you to play with. Right now
all we’ve got are a few magazines, and most of them, ah . . .
aren’t suitable for the young. So it's going to be pretty boring
for a while. Beats being taken hostage though, right?"
"Oh, yeah!" Tim agreed, and I matched his
big smile with my own. "Thank you so much for rescuing us,
sir."
He smiled back and stood taller. "Linda's
going to whip us up some breakfast, as promised. But the truth of
the matter is that we've got quite a bit to do before we're settled
in right and proper, and neither of you two has had much chance to
rest. So . . . how about a nice nap first? That's one good thing
about being underground—you can make it be nighttime whenever you
like."
We smiled back. "All right," I was the one
who answered this time. "But wake us up for the flapjacks!"
"Sure thing!" Sam promised. Then he was
gone, leaving the room illuminated by a single LED. It wasn't very
bright.
"I'm so tired!" Tim said, louder than he
really needed to. Just like he did when he wanted to mislead Mom
and Dad about something they didn't need to know about. He nodded
at the magazines—there was a pen lying right next to them. How
convenient!
"Me too!" I agreed, also too loudly and thus
seconding the motion that we should definitely try and get away
with something.
"Let's hit the hay, then."
We stripped down to our underwear and
settled in under the comforters. It was nice and warm and soft
there, and for a moment I almost fell asleep for real. Then, as
expected, a ballpoint with a slip of slick magazine paper stuck
under its clip fell from the bed above mine and onto my pillow. It
was just barely light enough to read the thing. " Got to move fast," it read. "Li, Rapput
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