Timtown

  “How am I going to get all this stuff down the mountain?” Tim asked as he studied the large pile of gear.

  “I have arranged some transportation for you,” replied Mr. V.

  *

  A final check of his communication device and Tim stepped out, back into his world. The first sensation was the harsh morning light, and then the smells. His nose had forgotten about the fine smells of Earth: the plants, the rocks, the air, and the distinct smell of a horse. Brillo Pad was standing in the shade of the rock wall waiting to take him down the mountain.

  Tim attached the gear to the horse with some ultra-fine string that was amazingly strong. He pulled at the hair size material as hard as he could to break off a piece, but had to resort to cutting it. Even that was difficult.

  Tim mounted the horse and they began their climb down out of the canyon. As they neared the bottom a strong quake shook the ground, but Brillo Pad stayed steady and unconcerned. In a few minutes they were at the beginning of the Walls and could survey the valley below. The town looked the same as he had left it, tossed and tumbled. The lower valley, below the town looked dusty and hot, and Tim could see vapors rising from across the valley where the fault was located.

  Tim couldn’t see anyone in the upper end of the cove, but there was some heavy equipment working a mile down from him. At least he wouldn’t have to bring the van far to reach a drive-able road. Mr. V had given him a portable bridge to gap the crevasses, but as Tim looked down at the bridge resting by his thigh the bundle seemed awful inadequate for a four thousand pound load. The last few days had taught him different, however.

  *

  Tim didn’t come across anyone on the way to his house and was relieved to find some of his clothing still there. He was dressed only in the one piece suit, and Mr. V had advised him to be inconspicuous as possible. Almost everything else was destroyed or missing thanks to the looters. He rushed to the garage and was elated to find the van just as he had left it, but the Quad was gone.

  He went immediately to work on the modifications to the van. To make it self-sufficient for fuel Mr. V had given him a hydrogen generator. The device produced hydrogen from the water vapor in the air. Tim attached the generator as the instructions stated, and then removed the old carburetor and replaced it with a new one, again complements of Mr. V. Next came some modifications to the ignition system. The parts and the instructions were precise because Mr. V had all he needed to know about a Ford van in his memory banks. The van would now run stronger than before and would never need to be fueled again. Other modifications to the van included a gyro and a protective energy coating like Tim was wearing. The coating could be instantly changed to five different colors. Mr. V had thought of everything.

  *

  Tim completed all his tasks with two hours of daylight remaining. He started the engine and backed the van over the crumpled driveway and into the demolished street. The van was sitting at a fifteen degree angle. Tim activated the gyro, and the van settled close to level.

  Tim drove half way down the block and found his first obstacle. A wall of earth rising six feet above the street blocked his way. He pulled the portable bridge out and set it up according to the instructions. It was secured to the ground on its four corners by a pistol like device that drove anchors deep into the ground. A clip was attached to the anchors, and then to the bridge. When all four corners were secured the structure was pulled tight with a small electric winch, also provided. Then the van could be driven across the mesh like device. If the grade was steep, the winch was simply attached to the van and then the van was pulled up. Mr. V said the winch was powerful enough to pull the van up vertical if necessary.

  Tim inched the van onto the bridge he had assembled and felt only a slight give to the light weight, ‘Make-a-Path’ as he had christened it. After crossing, a radio signal exploded the anchors free to be used again. All this weighted no more than thirty pounds. With his portable bridge, the gyro, and the winch, Tim was confident he could take the van anywhere.

  *

  By sunset, Tim had traversed the van to within two hundred feet of three large bulldozers building a road up the cove. Tim waved from the top of the ridge to the men below and then scurried down to talk to them. One of the operators jumped off his machine to greet him. The operator was surprised to find a boy by himself this far from any protection. Tim explained he had returned to retrieve valuables. The man shook his head and said nothing was worth getting done in by the crazy bastards on the loose. He gestured back to his machine where two armed companions sat.

  A little haggling and a little money in the right place, and the foreman swung the machines to the task of building a road for Tim. Then he could bring the van down the last ridge. Tim didn’t want to use his tricks in front of people unless absolutely necessary. Besides, he enjoyed watching the monstrous machines bully the rocks and dirt.

  As he sat watching the work he thought about Mr. V. Certainly the computer would have something to complete the road much faster. Then he realized what Mr. V had, he had too. A sudden chill went up his spine. At the base he had felt so inferior, but now he was probably the most powerful human on the face of the Earth. All the doubt and uncertainty flowed out of him. Life as he had known it was gone for good. Mr. V was certain the valley below was close to doom and he had hinted that much of the world was close behind. Tim was a fortunate person; he wouldn’t have to suffer like many others would.

  He felt sadness as he looked around in the gloom of the dying day. Although the last few years had been tough, there had been some good times. He laid back and rested his head on a rock and turned his eyes up to the stars. He though back to when Ann and he would talk about what could be out there. He knew now there was indeed something grand and wondrous up beyond the sky. He had the proof, and it was possible he might just be able to go there someday. The thought made him happy.

  If only he could find Ann, if only she was okay? He had been thinking about her a lot, but had not mentioned it to Mr. V more than the one time. The computer had tried to find Ann, but he said his resources were not set up to search for missing people and he had been unsuccessful. If Tim pulled off the Arty mission he would try to find her and bring her back to the base. She deserved a part of this good thing too.

  Tim returned to the van, ate, and called Mr. V. The computer was concerned about the time available for Tim to complete the transfer of Arty from the hospital to the base because the fault was weakening fast. Tim was now impatient to get on his way and had the van ready when the first dozer reached the top of the ridge. The dozer pulled the last rib of dirt down the road it had built, and Tim started down right behind it. He didn’t want to be around if the construction crew started to wonder how he had gotten the van on the pressure ridge in the first place.

  As Tim neared the bottom he swung to the side to go around the retreating machine. As he drove around the dozer, the dirt on the side of the road started to shift, and the van slew to the side. Tim hit the accelerator and the engine exploded to life. The van shot along the edge of the ramp without as much as a tilt. Tim glanced back in the side mirror to the men on the machines. He couldn’t quite make out their faces, but they had stopped to watch him race down the incline.

  The road the construction men had built was surprisingly smooth, except for the grouser marks made by the dozer tracks which made the van buzz with vibrations from the tires hitting the evenly spaced grooves.

  *

  From time to time he would pass a military vehicle, but civilian traffic was absent. At the bottom of the cove was where he ran into his first hitch, a road block where a young Lieutenant wanted to see his travel pass. Tim informed him; he had been stuck up the cove since the quake, and had not realized a pass was necessary. The Lieutenant directed him to a tent and said he would have to wait until morning to acquire a pass. It was dark, and Tim needed some rest so it was just as well.

  *

  Tim was awakened by the van bouncing around hard. He j
umped out the side door and realized it was another quake. Excited people were milling around and pointing to the North, toward the fault. Although the fault was six miles away, a hissing and rumbling could be plainly heard. Steam and dust were shooting high into the air. It was an eerie sight as the rising Sun was almost behind the display and articles thrown up in the air sparkled as they arched through the sky.

  A loud whooshing sound went over Tim’s head, and ended with a loud thud behind him because a smoldering boulder as big as a car had smashed into the hill. More rocks followed, sending people scrambling in all directions. Tim dove into the van and started it up. He swung it onto the road and headed for the road block.

  A moment later, the van was struck in the back corner, sending it careening to the left and onto its side, propelling Tim hard into the passenger’s seat. The gyro immediately righted the vehicle, slamming Tim back into the driver’s door. Back in the original position, Tim was shaken, but unharmed thanks to the energy field. One thing was apparent though, the suit he was wearing would do nothing for him if he was hit by one of those boulders racing out of the sky. The back corner of the van was badly damaged.

  Mr. V had explained the way the protective suit and the covering of the van worked. The thin material was the conductor of a force field. It reacted to objects approaching its surface, and repelled them with a strong, backwards, gravitational charge. It worked on small projectiles because a great amount of the protective field could be generated on the small area of the impact. Large, heavy objects could, however, overwhelm the system,

  The rock barrage had subsided, but it had done its damage. In the eight miles to the next road block scores of vehicles lay smashed with countless casualties. The road was almost blocked in places by smoking debris. It was hard for Tim to pass the injured, but he had to keep his mind on his purpose, Arty.

  *

  At the next road block, Tim was directed to a tent and received a travel permit to the city where the VA hospital was located. He also got some information on where casualties had been taken. He was informed the physiological trauma cases would have been transferred to a hospital close to where he was headed, but records of the transfers would be at the main aid station down the road.

  As Tim approached the van he noticed a group of people had gathered around it. He moved quickly, pushing through, and interrupted one of the group, a middle aged man busy picking the lock to the driver’s door.

  “It would be easier with the key,” said Tim.

  The man looked up with a cold stare, and the others closed in around Tim. He noticed smirks on most of their faces.

  “Do you know who happens to have it?” the man asked.

  “I do,” Tim replied.

  “That’s great,” the man stated, standing up to confront Tim. “I was never too good at this, and I hated to have to break the window on ‘my new van’.”

  “Gee, I don’t remember giving it to you,” Tim returned sarcastically.

  “Well, I remember taking it, ‘smart ass’!” The man sneered, getting right in Tim’s face.

  The crowd closed in tighter.

  “You can’t even get into it, you idiot!” Tim said loudly, teasing the man.

  The man stiffened and his face reddened, as giggles erupted from his followers. He was in a rage and punched quickly at Tim’s stomach. There was a loud smack as his fist contacted Tim’s middle, and a surprised look on his face as he quickly realized the punch had no effect.

  Tim raised his right arm at the elbow, pointing the straightened finger at the man’s chest, and pressed his thumb to the trigger on the second finger. A loud crack ripped the air, and the man smashed into the van and fell to the ground in a heap.

  “Holy shit,” Tim said under his breath.

  He didn’t bother to turn around, but he could hear footsteps retreating in every direction. He reached into his pocket for the keys and unlocked the van. As he drove away he could see people staring at him white faced.

  “Those poor bastards, first the earthquakes, and now me. I hope they can get some sleep.”

  *

  At the main aid station Tim talked to the nurse in charge, but she didn’t have Ann’s name.

  “But, how can you lose a person?” cried Tim.

  The nurse looked up with a frown. “Young man, we have lost a whole lot of people, I’m sorry.”

  Tim turned to go, but just as he was to the door he turned again and asked, “Susan Whitcomb?”

  “What?” the nurse said.

  “Do you have a record of a Susan Whitcomb?”

  “Where was she injured?” the nurse asked.

  “She wasn’t hurt,” Tim snapped.

  The nurse shot a nasty glance at Tim. “This is a medical station, not the telephone company.”

  “She’s a doctor, a psychologist or something,” Tim added calmer.

  “Staff makes a difference,” the nurse sneered as she shifted her position to reach another keyboard. “Whitcomb, Whitcomb, Susan.” She glanced up at Tim and he affirmed the name with a nod.

  “Here it is, Dr. Susan Whitcomb is—” The nurse paused and the smile disappeared from her face. “Is she family, or a friend?”

  “A friend.”

  “I’m sorry, she was killed in a helicopter crash six days ago,” the nurse said sadly.

  “No, that can’t be!” shouted Tim. “No, please check again.”

  “Susan Whitcomb, P.H.D., employed in trauma research.” The nurse looked up with sad eyes. “Is that the same one?”

  “Yeah.” Tim paused. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s her,” he said softly.

  “She was killed in a shuttle flight crash north of here, I’m sorry,” said the nurse, as she got up and approached Tim.

  “Look, I don’t have any record of this Ann because she wasn’t on the shuttle, so she might be okay, probably just displaced. It’s hard to keep track of anyone with all that’s happening. Check with the military, or the police, but don’t give up. I wish I could help you more.”

  Tim’s sorrow had clouded his mind for a moment, but then he realized the nurse was squeezing his arm with a puzzled look on her face. Tim pulled his arm out of her grasp and quickly headed for the door.

  “Tension,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  He hurried to the van. As he was driving out of the parking area he looked back at the aid station. He could see the nurse at the door with a telephone in her hand.

  Tim turned and headed back the way he had come and drove until he spotted a truck going in the other direction. He U turned and slid in behind the truck, and then activated the color part of the protection sheet covering the van. Up to this point it had been transparent, so the van was its original light brown. Tim selected white for the new color. As the large truck passed the station he had just left he moved the van to the away side and passed the truck. It probably wasn’t necessary, but he didn’t need to have to answer questions, right now.

  *

  Tim drove for five hours which left him thirty-five miles from the VA hospital. Driving the last ten or so miles had been relatively easy, but the thirty before them had been a nightmare. Until he had made the main highway, ten miles back, the roads had been badly damaged and sometimes totally blocked. The stretch he was on now was intact and there was little traffic. Tim pushed the accelerator to the floor to see what difference the hydrogen fuel made. He was slammed in the seat by the acceleration, and the van shot past ninety like it was nothing. At a hundred he backed off because it would be stupid to blow it up now. Mr. V said the modifications would make it more powerful, but he hadn’t expected this.

  He was making a steady ninety when the van became difficult to control. He lifted off the gas suspecting a bad tire, but the van felt like it was being moved around by some unseen force. The speed dropped to sixty, and the van was still all over the road and getting wilder. He was baffled until he looked at an overpass just ahead. It was moving and twisting, and the road under it was dancing up and down. It w
as another earthquake Tim realized, as the overpass collapsed in a cloud of dust.

  Tim slammed on the brakes, and the tires screeched and then lost hold as the van was bounced up clear off the pavement. The van came down on the roadway again, like a 747, tires smoking and screeching, and although the highway squirmed like a snake, the van stayed straight and true, thanks to the gyro. It was an uneven stop, each tire biting and releasing as the pavement went up and down. It took longer to stop than it would have on a smooth surface, but Tim had room to spare before he would have crashed into the rubble of the downed overpass.

  Tim had been listening to a radio station, but now there was silence. He quickly found the tuning knob and turned it. Normally a radio in this area would pick up many stations, but he could only find one and it was playing gospel music. Within seconds the song was interrupted by a special message. Another major earthquake had just struck the area. There were no details yet, but the announcer said it had been a big one.

  Tim called Mr. V, and he told Tim the quake was indeed a big one and had involved more than one fault. Mr. V suspected the damage would be high. Tim backed up to the off ramp, skirted the fallen overpass, and again headed for the hospital.

  Although there seemed to be considerable damage along the highway, many fires and fallen structures, the highway was still passable. From then on, he went around the overpasses still standing, not wishing to be beneath one at the moment it happened to fall. He was now virtually alone on the highway.

  *

  The radio informed anyone listening to switch to an emergency frequency, and Tim did. A killer quake that had been expected in this area had struck. The main quake registered 8.0 on the Richter scale, which was less than the first quake, eleven days earlier, but it was more than enough to smash the area. Beside the main quake, many others had occurred all over the basin, but there was no information on them yet.

  A second disaster was now forming the radio said; fire storms, because the thousands of random fires needed oxygen, and the winds were increasing to supply that oxygen. The winds in turn fanned the fires, and the cycle was started: more fire, more oxygen, more heat, more fire, more oxygen, more wind. The quake had destroyed most of the water mains, so the cycle would go unchecked until the combustible material was gone. The quake had been less intense in the small town where the hospital was, so Tim might still be able to get through.