Time Siege (32 page)

The leaders attending led tribes of varying sizes. Some, like Abel of the Madison Greens, led a tribe that was a thousand strong, nearly equaling Elise's Elfreth. Others, like Jayul, of Spin-Spin, which lived on the mostly flooded ground-floor lobby of the All Galaxy, commanded only two dozen. Others were complete unknowns. Glads, the leader of a tribe of three hundred called the Carnegies, had just arrived a few hours earlier. Her people were still straggling to the tower in groups of tens and twenties.

In the end, Elise followed a rule her mom had always quoted from her time in the Peace Corps: “Hungry people are always too hungry to fight.”

Instead of wasting manpower and resources waging wars, Elise had opted to feed the elderly and the children instead. Once all the fighting folks realized what was happening, they, too, had put down their weapons and got in line for soup and bread. Word had spread quickly that one of the tribes on the upper levels was not only powerful but rich. Why else would they give away free food?

Within a matter of days, the Elfreth had received twenty requests from smaller tribes to merge and representatives from dozens more to meet. It was then that Elise and Franwil hatched the plan to unify the tribes surrounding the All Galaxy and create a loose coalition. This meeting was the result. It was a larger success than she had dared hoped. Too large, in fact.

Elise had not bothered stipulating who qualified as a leader and a tribe. If someone had wanted to come, she let them. It wasn't like she was planning on setting up that old United States House of Representatives or anything, or was she? She really didn't have a plan for this. Maybe it was something she should have thought out a little better. It was too late now.

She spent a few minutes chatting with Crowe, making sure they were on the same page before the start of the meeting. The teacher was wellknown and respected by all the other tribes in the area due to the Flatirons' control of the All Galaxy, easily the largest tower in the area, and his and the Flatirons' support was critical for the success of her plans.

Elise stepped to the podium and scanned the faces of the men and women as their chatter quieted. Many had come armed. She hadn't bothered to stipulate that they shouldn't, either. That had probably been an oversight. A few scuffles almost broke out between warring tribes when they had first gathered. Her hands shook. Her head barely rose above the lectern. She wished she was standing on something to make her appear taller. Elise looked to her left and saw Franwil, who waved and returned her attention to a bag of seeds she was munching on.

Standing next to her, leaning against a column, was James, looking uneasy and guarded. He seemed even more unsettled than normal, continually scanned the crowds, no doubt expecting an attack from someone in the audience at any moment. As if on cue, he looked her way, and their eyes met. His lips curved up into a small smile and he walked up to her and gave her a squeeze on the arm. “You can do this. Knock them out.”

“You mean dead, right?”

He frowned. “Why would you want to kill them?”

Elise chuckled. “Never mind.” James's encouragement did settle her a bit. He had that effect on her. She shooed him off the stage and then raised her hand. “Thank you all for coming.” She waited for a response; none came. Of course they weren't going to respond. What in Gaia did she think they were going to do? Something told her the men and women of the Mist Isle were not the clapping type. The short awkward pause felt like hours. She coughed and continued, “You are all the leaders of your people…”

A man stood up. He was large, bald, and scarred all over his body. “Not all should be here,” he said in a loud clear voice. He pointed at another large man next to him. “I, Durand, lead a group of three hundred. Polan only leads a group of fifteen. I have subchiefs with more tribe.”

The one named Polan stood up, holding a machete in his hand. “Only because you Ziegfelds came in the night like the dark ones you are and murdered many of my tribe.” The people between them scattered as metal blades hissed out of their sheaths, and less than two minutes into her meeting to peacefully unify all the tribes for a common cause, a fight broke out.

For a second, Elise considered letting the two assholes poke a couple of holes into each other before pulling them apart. James had moved in front of the podium and was waiting for her signal. She shook her head. If she was going to play leader, it was time she took such matters into her own hands.

She willed her wrist beams to a low setting and aimed it at the big-mouth who had started it all. She prayed she didn't miss. Her aim had improved since she had first gotten the bands, but it was still mediocre at best. She shot her beam and nailed Durand on the left shoulder, spinning him to the ground. Before Polan could take advantage of that, she plugged him in the chest as well. Both men lay groaning, stunned from the blast.

Elise tried to appear casual even as her hands shook uncontrollably. She resisted the temptation to pretend to blow smoke off her fists. “Anyone else?”

The room was quiet. Several of the leaders' eyes widened as the two men picked themselves up and got back into their chairs. Between her previous generosity with food and this display of power, Elise was pretty sure she had everyone's full attention. Her nerves were screaming, but she kept her face calm.

Once the room had settled, Elise took a moment to collect her thoughts. She thought about what they were trying to build today, and what she had to say to accomplish that. She saw in their eyes what they all desperately needed: hope, direction, and assurances for their people. Most of all, she could tell they were weary of the constant fighting. The looks of disdain they gave Durand and Polan spoke volumes.

That would be her opening.

“Those who wish to hold grudges and war with others in this room are not welcome here,” she began. “You may leave now. If you stay, then you will all make vows that the past disagreements between all of you are buried.” She paused for effect, waiting and daring any of these leaders to stand up and leave the room. When none did, she continued, “I am Elise Kim, Oldest of the Elfreth. Our line is long, stretching two hundred years in the wastelands. We hail from Philadelphia and Boston and now call the Mist Isle our home.” She noticed a few of the leaders nod. Surviving two hundred years was no small feat out here in the wastelands. For the first time, Elise was thankful that Franwil insisted that, as the new Oldest, she learn about the Elfreth's history. The tribes put a lot of stock in stuff like this.

“There is an enemy on the island, killing and destroying our way of life. They enslave the tribes and take their buildings. Many of you have seen them firsthand and now flee for your lives. We know of this enemy. They are powerful, armed with technology and terrible weapons. The enemy are known as Valta and ChronoCom, and they are unrelenting. They came to Boston and we ran. They destroyed our friends and neighboring tribes, and we ran. Now, they are here on the Mist Isle and we know that there is no place to run. The Elfreth will stay and fight.

“As you can tell, we have technology of our own, and we have supplies. We are organized. However, we cannot do this alone. Help us. Join with us. Many tribes together can form a stronger nation than many tribes apart. If we work together, we can defend our floors and buildings. We can care for each other, share food and resources. Together, we can fight for the isle and push back the enemy.”

“Would we all bow to you then, Elise Kim of the Elfreth?” one of the leaders stood up and asked. “Would we all become Elfreth?”

A chorus of no's rang across the room. Surprisingly, there were less than she thought there would be. It was a point of contention, though. These tribes were very independent and fiercely defended their identity. To ask them to join would be to tell them they were no longer the people they were. The grousing and arguments got louder, so much so that James moved protectively in front of the podium again. Eventually, the chatter died down, to her mild surprise, without her intervening. She waited patiently until all eyes focused back on her.

“Talk among us is good,” she said. “It facilitates cooperation and ideas. As long as it does not lead to violence, we all should talk more. Well, except for my friend Teacher Crowe of the Flatirons.” She gestured at him in the front row. “He talks far too much.” She was met by a chorus of laughter. The old chief grinned good-naturedly.

“You will not be Elfreth,” she continued. “You will still be your tribe. You can come and go as you please if it suits your people. However, we all will have an identity that binds us. The Mist Isle was once known as Manhattan. Why don't we honor that name once more?”

A new chorus of calls erupted, but this time, the tone had changed. Instead of trying to find reasons to say no or to quarrel, the leaders of the assorted tribes were now asking for details. How would the work and floors be shared? How would influence be divided? Would there be a council? Would every tribe have a vote? Who would be in charge?

The questions were endless. However, it had taken a herculean effort to get all of these people into one room, and she wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste. Elise began to jot down the many questions thrown her way and then began to knock them down one by one. All the leaders had their own ideas of what Manhattan should be, and they all agreed to disagree on the same and opposite things. Everyone wanted everything, yet at the same time everyone wanted to give up nothing. The next few hours were some of the most frustrating in Elise's life.

In the end, though, well after night had settled over the isle, the Nation of the Unified Tribes of Manhattan was born—it was a dumb and tedious name, one that could only have been born from committee, where no one was happy with the end result, but they had wasted an hour debating it, and this was the best they could agree on. Damn bureaucracy. To her surprise, fewer than ten of the leaders had walked out during the entire process, and all but one eventually returned. All they had left to do was figure out the details, which, as her mom liked to say, was where the devil resided, but that could wait until tomorrow.

An exhausted but exuberant Elise walked up to a waiting James and leaned on him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Straight to bed, mister, because I'm going to sleep until next month.”

“You have to do this all over again first thing tomorrow,” he said.

“I was being facetious. Just hold me and tell me I did a good job.”

He squeezed her tightly. “Elise, that was spectacular. You accomplished something that no one in generations was able to do, and you did so without firing a shot. Or a third shot, anyway.”

“Well, fear and a common enemy help just a little,” she said.

James shook his head. “Doesn't matter. These people came to this meeting because they saw something in the decisions you made, and they came together tonight as a group. I am so proud of you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, and all the tension and stress she had carried fell away. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. When they finally came apart, she beamed. “Remember our first date back on Nutris? You finally figured out the right things to say to a girl. Come on, let's go to bed and you can tell me more about how well I did today.”

 

THIRTY-ONE

U
NSETTLED

James watched in the corner, out of the way, as Sasha worked in Elise's lab. Titus had confirmed his diagnosis that she was indeed suffering from Terravira mononucleosis, commonly caused by a combination of an unsuspecting immune system and the Earth Plague. Franwil was able to barter for some herbs, Levin salvaged some medical supplies from the past, and Grace built a single-punch tablet machine on the fly. It was a group effort, and for that, James was grateful. Sasha was doing better, though her cough lingered, and she tired quickly, but the pink had returned to her face, and she was more active now than in recent memory.

Right now, his sister was dousing a row of plants with a chemical formula Elise had created. Prior to her coming to the present, Sasha couldn't read or write. Now she was assisting scientists with experiments. James's chest swelled with pride. His hands quivered—he blamed it on his emotions—as she hummed to herself and went about her business. He watched as she carefully checked the samples for traces of the Earth Plague and jotted notes on a piece of cloth.

Black abyss, he berated himself. He was starting to think like a parent. “Can you take a break and go on a walk with your brother?”

Sasha, face full of concentration, shook her head. “Elise needs to spend more time talking to the other leaders of the tribes. She's depending on me to make sure all these samples are cared for. It's a big job.”

“It is indeed,” he said. “When will you finish?”

“When Sammuia and Rima come back. They're going to teach me how to make traps and Sammuia says I should learn how to cut a spear from a blood stalk.”

James wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was a good skill for the Mist Isle, though. The floors on some of these buildings were as wild and dense as any jungle he'd visited. This may not have been the life he had envisioned for his sister, but the more time they spent with the Elfreth, the more he was confident that he was giving her a good life, no matter the challenges.

“I guess you don't have any time for your big brother anymore.”

“Don't be silly, James,” she replied. “We'll have all the time in the world. Just later.”

He had to remind himself that they looked at things differently. For him, she had been gone for almost twenty years. Twenty dark, painful, guilt-ridden years. Sasha standing here was a miracle, one that had only existed in his dreams.

To his sister, he was still the same old James, her brother who took care of her, made sure she was safe, and told her what to do. Sure, he was different, bigger, more wrinkled, and not as funny, but he was still just James. Sasha hadn't had many good memories or friends as a child, so James wasn't going to fault her for making new ones. She was just a kid, and boring old James was just that. Boring. He reminded himself that this was just Sasha being a typical ten-year-old girl. This was normal.