Chapter 34

We needed increased security on the trip, so I put Lee in charge of that.

I had no idea what the guards from the mine might do, and despite what Robert had said, the same held true for the mine operators. His analysis had been based on what was normal when he worked at the mine, and things had changed in ways he might not know about. The guards would know something had happened when they found Colin, Sal, and the women gone. We had to assume we were facing increased danger, and would be until we’d traveled a considerable distance away from the mine.

As for the mine operators, I had few clues to their thinking. They were certainly Futurists, but whether they were from the same time as the ones who’d ‘harvested’ me, I didn’t know. From what I’d been told, the Futurists who’d taken me had no need for mining. Their technology produced everything they needed.

So who were the mine operators? There couldn’t be many of them or they’d not have needed Robert’s people to do the mining. If they used the same technology as the harvesters to cross timelines, perhaps there were limitations on their version; they’d not have needed me to provide supplemental food if timeline-jumping had been easy and cheap. There was another possibility, that the food the Futurists were accustomed to downtime wasn’t what the local people here wanted to eat. If the food downtime was too different, that would give the supervisors a motive for trading with me to supply meat for their local hires.

Were the mine operators perhaps from earlier in the harvesters’ timeline? Perhaps from shortly after the device was invented? They might need the mine’s product to build the timeline jumper. That explanation appeared to fit what I had deduced. Maybe the mine produced some sort of rare-earth element; something that was, by definition, rare. Something that was scarce enough for them to seek it on another timeline, something that had almost been used up where or when they’d come from? This timeline, uptime on Darwin’s World compared to theirs, still had untouched mineral deposits and people to mine them. There’d be no need for extensive training before the transplanted people could begin work, and the transplants were desperate enough for metal that they could be hired cheap.

Were the operators, the bosses and supervisors Robert had mentioned, always the same people or did they work in shifts? Perhaps spend a week or a month here before being replaced? Had the guards killed that group of Futurists when they’d taken over the mine? The kitchen crew hadn’t seen any of the supervisors since the guards, fueled by alcohol, had taken over. If so, what would the other Futurists do?

If I had guessed right, the Futurists needed the mine’s output. They wouldn’t give it up without a fight, and people who could build a timeline-jumper would also have advanced weapons. They might limit the spread of those weapons to the transplanted people, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t bring in well-armed commandos to wipe out the guards ... and maybe come for us. They might even bring vehicles or time hoppers!

It might be simple, timeline crossing, or it might require enormous expenditures of money and energy. The implication, based on the one member of that Futurist transplant corps that I had met, was that timeline crossing for them was routine. And yet, the mine operators wanted us to supply local foods rather than simply bring food for the miners from downtime. Puzzling.

I mulled this over and thought of something else. I’d assumed that the people from that abandoned dwelling were dead. But suppose they had been examples of what the transport corps had tried to achieve? Had they been harvested, to become educated in the same way that I’d gotten some of my memories, then sent out to rejuvenate that suicide-ridden future civilization?

Lee was back in camp, so I told him of my fear that the guards or the operators might be looking for us.

He nodded and said, “I’ll grab food and water and go back out. I’ll move out a reasonable distance, keep one man with me, and watch Robert’s trail. I’ll leave a third man halfway between where we’ll be and the camp; I think that’s necessary. We watch for a raiding party, he watches us. If something happens to us, he can still warn you.

“I hope we can spot any raiders before they spot us. They won’t have had much time to react, so I doubt they will be here this soon. And we’ll be concealed while they’ll be following Robert’s trail across the snow, so I expect we’ll see them before they can see us. What will you do, Matt?”

“If they get here before we leave, I just don’t know,” I confessed. “We’ll do whatever we can, fight if it looks like we’ve got a chance, scatter into the woods if there are too many of them. If it’s the mine operators and they bring a force with modern tech, infrared maybe, we can burrow into a snowbank. That might disperse our heat enough so that they miss us. Some of us, anyway.” He gave me a blank look when I mentioned ‘infrared’. Well, he understood the part about fighting or digging into the snow. That would have to be enough.

Lee went off to finish setting up his early-warning system and I began chivvying people to finish packing.

I had hoped to be on the road early, but it was not to be.

The scene was mass confusion, despite all Robert and I could do. Lilia and Monica helped, but for the moment it seemed that all the teaching we’d done had been wasted. The tribespeople would remember as soon as we got on the trail, or they’d relearn it the hard way. I finally recalled Lee and he organized the rest of his small crew for security while we were traveling. One would scout ahead, two others would be off to the left and right sides for flank security.

Lee wanted Pavel on the left flank, but got an argument. He finally sent him forward to scout. The Pavel question was clearly not resolved. But with Pavel out front ... where was a saber-tooth when you really wanted one to show up? Or a pride of lions, maybe a pack of dire wolves, a shortfaced bear, anything?

I doubt we managed to get ten miles away from the village by mid-afternoon. I had hoped for more, but if everyone was as exhausted as I was they weren’t going any further.

We set up our first temporary camp and managed to get people fed and bedded down under thick furs. The sky was clear, so we decided not to build shelters. Our fire was out and guards were on duty before dusk, with reliefs notified which shift they’d be taking during the night. Robert and I walked through the camp, making sure people were as well taken care of as we could manage. Colin, the former cook-supervisor, had proved to be a gem. He and his family, assisted by some of the tribe’s women, had the kitchen set up and food heating in much less time than I would have expected. People had been able to stop, take care of necessary personal business, lay out sleeping furs, then eat a hot meal. That part of our planning had worked well, so far.

We’d build snow shelters when the weather threatened, but tonight we slept out under starry skies. Two sentries circled the camp during the night, the first ones relieved by a second pair and those relieved in turn by a third. Pavel took his turn without complaint, so Lee paired him with Lilia. Colin’s efforts had freed her from any need to supervise the kitchen activities, so she now worked with whichever of us needed assistance. Tonight, she watched the camp and also made sure that Pavel did his share.

Robert had been busy getting people bedded down. Neither of us planned to take a turn on sentry duty, but the rest of the men and most of the women would do so during the trek. We intended to pair two women together and only pair men with men, except for Lilia.

She was up before her turn, and when she checked on the pair that she and Pavel would relieve, they were alert and watchful. No problems were reported that night and we got on the trail early next morning. The moon gave us enough light to pack and go. Morning starts would have to wait for daybreak when the moon was down, but by then packing up every morning and setting up camp in the late afternoon would be routine.

As the days passed, we developed routines of our own. Robert and I got up early, woke Lee and Colin, and then let them get their own people working. Lee’s three-person security team would eat something while they moved out to their positions.

The rest of the people would get up and take care of morning chores. Children would be seen to and bedding packed. A quick meal, usually cold meat and bread, then finish packing, check to see that nothing had been left behind, and get ready to move out. Sandra, Millie, and Cindy led off, because they woke up when I did and got a head start on packing. Lilia looked around the empty campsite to make sure nothing had been left behind, then took up position behind the last sled. We’d pause for lunch at midday, the kitchen crew would pass out jerky and bread and sometimes a few dried vegetables from our dwindling stores, and half an hour later we’d be on the trail again.

Pavel became more of a problem two weeks later.

He loudly complained that Robert and I weren’t pulling night duty. I attempted to make him understand that we were never really off-duty, but often got called to solve minor emergencies that always seemed to crop up during the night. That explanation wasn’t good enough; he saw himself as a kind of deputy-leader because he still had influence with his group of easterners. Finally, Robert and I simply laid out his options.