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💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › shorts › defcon › 25 › DEFCON-25-the-Wild-Alt… captured on 2022-06-04 at 01:03:42.
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TITLE: Belonging AUTHOR HANDLE: theWildAltitude

1.

They were out deep in the desert.  A dim glow along the horizon to the
northeast hinted at the location of the Vegas settlement, but it was
only that: a hint.  Her bright lights wouldn�t be apparent until they�d
covered much more ground, and there were only a few hours of darkness
remaining.  Time to pack it up and call it; the scavenging run had been
a waste of time, and their water supply was too low to risk getting
caught out in the open come daybreak.

But Blin would not be dissuaded.  There was a rise up ahead, a small
one, too uniform and smooth to be natural, and they weren�t terribly far
from where the old Interstate 15 used to exist.  It was possible a
vehicle could have made it this far off the main road, and vehicles
often meant supplies.  A few minutes later his hunch was rewarded:
knocking aside the drifting sand, a faded and wind-scoured car roof was
revealed.

�Give me a hand with this!� Blin called, and his words were nearly lost
to the wind.

Seth hurried over, unhooking the short, collapsible shovel he carried on
these excursions.  They�d have to hurry to get to the interior of the
vehicle before the sun rose -- spending another day hunkered in some
rocky depression with the scorpions and snakes was not his idea of a
good time, no matter what they found.

The two made short work of uncovering one side of the car.  There was
nothing worth taking in the trunk, not even a drum of water -- which was
probably why the vehicle had ended up way out there, and not someplace
closer to the old civilizations that used to dot this part of the world.
The passenger compartment, on the other hand, yielded what amounted to a
treasure trove.

Blin slid out from the back window, dragging with him two nearly
new-looking backpacks.  They were studded with enamelled pins and random
patches, and both sagged under the weight of the contents within.
�Check it out!  Told you there�d be something out here!�  His wide grin
was visible even in the pervasive darkness of the desert, illuminated
only by starlight.  They had flashlights, but those beams would be
visible for a very long distance -- it wasn�t smart to advertise your
presence out in the open.  You never knew who was watching.

The haul was worth the risk, however.  Hunkering down over the bags,
Blin pulled open the zip on one, the unmistakeable, unnatural sound so
loud in the darkness.  But concerns of detection were cast aside as
excitement for their find grew.  �Go on, get the light in there --
what�d they have?�  They, of course, being the unfortunate and
long-mummified occupants of the vehicle, who no longer had any need for
their backpacks or the treasures contained therein.

Seth stuffed the light into the opening and flicked it on.  Even
shrouded by the dark fabric of the bag, it was blinding to their eyes.
Blin and Seth both winced, shielding their eyes a moment; when their
vision finally cleared they were both struck speechless.

It was Seth who found his voice first, and it was barely a whisper when
he spoke.

�Tener is going to be so pissed.�  He grinned across at Blin.  �We got
ourselves some shiny new C-boards!�

2.

Despite the long night scavenging and the brutal, breakneck return to
the settlement while outrunning the sun, neither Blin nor Seth could
sleep.  Shafts of sunlight speared through cracks in their haphazard
shelter just outside the barbed-wire walls of Vegas, illuminating motes
of dust everywhere and sparking off the shiny-bright circuitry that
covered the C-boards they�d uncovered along 15.  Blin held his carefully
along the edges, afraid to touch any of the little black plastic parts
or the dark glass screen that sprouted from the surface of the disc in
his hand.  He turned it back and forth, letting his eyes travel along
the narrow, angular pathways hidden just beneath the printed surface.
The characters and symbols inscribed on the coating of the device were
difficult to make any sense of, though one was clearly a skull and bones
and this hinted at some untold danger that Blin found intriguing.  It
was impossible to discern what the original purpose of the C-board had
been from just looking at it, although the small rectangular screen on
the front hinted at display capabilities.  The power compartment was
empty, but there had been flat, silver packages deep in the bag that
looked like they�d work -- if there was still any juice left in them.

C-boards weren�t exactly rare in the settlement.  Every so often one
would crop up, usually uncovered on some scavenging run and normally
battered and non-functional.  There was also the matter of power -- they
all ran off some sort of portable units of power, but charged power
packs were rare.  It was wasteful to use one to try to power some little
blinking lights when they had so many other essential, pressing needs.

Unfortunately, that didn�t dissuade everyone from showing off their
treasures, and the guy with the most C-boards in the settlement made no
secret of it.  You couldn�t miss him, even when you tried. Tener
possessed a dozen functioning boards and he wore all twelve of them
every time he was out wandering the dusty streets that made up their
home.  Tiny lights in every color flashed and blinked and glowed,
illuminating everything around him and making it clear to all who was in
charge.  Tener never worried about power, or shelter, or water.  Tener
just demanded whatever he wanted, from whomever he could push around,
and a small band of rough and ill-natured sycophants were always ready
to assist.

�He�s gonna try and take �em,� Seth announced dejectedly, rolling onto
his back to stare at the ceiling.  �Him, or those goons that follow him
around.  He�ll probably make up some bull to justify it too, �for the
security of the camp,� but you know it�s just gonna be jealousy -
especially if they work.�  He looked over at Blin.  �Do you think they
work?  They look new, like real new.�

�Only one way to tell,� Blin responded, in that half-distracted way he
had when something caught his attention.  Setting the disc down
carefully, he picked up one of the power packs and examined the
connector.  It, too, looked new, without a trace of corrosion or damage.
�Alright, here goes -- just, don�t get your hopes up.  They�ve been out
in the desert for a while.�

Blin fitted the pack into the receptacle on the back of the disc, and
then maneuvered the tiny power connector into a matching receptacle on
the edge of the board.  He did all of this gingerly, afraid a wrong move
would wrench one of the skinny wires free or damage something elsewhere
along the circuitry.  Once he was certain the connector was snug, he
turned over the disc and pressed a tiny black button set on one side.

The disc flared to life, a dozen intensely bright lights glowing
dazzling blue-white.  Blin and Seth were momentarily blinded, and as
their vision recovered they noticed the small screen light up.  First a
logo formed on the display, slowly turning in rendered 3D, and then a
welcome message scrolled, followed by a prompt for a name.  The two
young men looked at each other.

Seth spoke first.  �How do we put in the name?  I don�t see any keys.�

Blin was quiet as he examined the front of the disc.  �No keys, but you
see these circles? There are letters over them, A, B, C�� He carefully
touched one of the metallic pads with his fingertip and was rewarded
with an �A� on the display.  He grinned.

�Ok.  I think we can figure this out.�

An hour later both Blin and Seth had managed to power up their C-boards
and enter their names.  There seemed to be more to the discs than just
glowing lights and a display for their names, but neither of them could
get any further.  Blin was frustrated -- and concerned about how long
the power would last.  They had no spares.  Seth shut his board down and
sighed.

�It�s too bad they don�t have instructions or anything.  I know everyone
else thinks Tener�s boards are so special because they blink and shine
light -- but there has to be more to it, right?  They have to do
something!  And he sure doesn�t know -- even if he did, he�d never tell
us.�

Blin stared at the wall, deep in thought.  He doubted Tener knew any
more than they did about the light-up boards� but there was someone who
might have an idea.  It was a crazy thought but what did they have to
lose?

He stood.  �Come on, Seth.  Put that away and come with me.  I want to
go see someone.�

�Who?� Seth scrambled to his feet and shook his head.  �If you tell
anyone, we�re going to be found out.  Then Tener�s going to take these
for sure!�

Blin shrugged on his pack.  �I don�t think so.  For one, no one listens
to anything he says. And two, I think he hates Tener even more than we
do.�  He pulled Seth to the rusted flap of metal that served as a door.
�Come on.  We�re going to see Crazy Eights.�

�..

In the center of the settlement a group had gathered, few in number --
but even a small handful of people made for a lot in a place like that.
One man stood facing the rest with a posture of authority.  His nose was
beakish and his eyes were set close together, outlined by dark eyelashes
which circled pale blue eyes.  He looked intimidating and alert despite
his unkempt hair and faded, dusty clothing.  Hung around his neck were
lit, blinking boards of every color and shape, which clinked and caught
on each other as he moved.  His voice was loud, on the verge of
shouting:

�Any news on the pickers?  We have what, five or six groups out? And
nothing?�

A few of the gathered men shuffled and looked away, uneager to gain
notice of the man with the flashing neckwear.  Finally, one looked up.

�We�ve been sending �em farther each time, Tener.  There�s just nothin�
left to scavenge, and we don�t have supplies for the long journeys.
Everythin�s picked clean.�

�Excuses!� hissed the one called Tener.  �There were a million people
here once, and they all had things! Lots of things! We just have to find
them!�

Another voice spoke up.  �It�s just real hard Tener.  And with the water
rations so small, we can�t keep sendin� the pickers out-�

�You know we have to do this, Kane!�  Tener glared and grabbed the
lanyards bunched on his chest.  They clanked together as he swung them
up.  �See these?  Have you forgotten what they mean?  They are the only
way we can survive.  Maybe turn this village into a proper city, like
Salt Lake.  This technology� it�s the future.  You remember how we
survived the drought of �42?  If I say send the pickers out longer, then
that�s what you have got to do!�  His face was red with exertion and
anger.

�Or would I rather send you all instead?�

The assembled group muttered demurrals, shifting uncomfortable back and
forth.  No one could deny that things were grim in �42.  When Tener had
proposed that by building a structure out of �boards and setting it at a
certain angle to the morning sun they could harness the water element
still present in the sky and produce rain, they had no choice but to
try.  Sure enough, not seven days later it rained for 10 days and
nights.  Since then, no one really doubted Tener.

He looked over them and nodded.

�Good.  Make it happen.�  Satisfied his orders would be carried out,
Tener shifted his eyes over the ramshackle encampment.  He spotted two
of the picker crew crossing the lot a dozen yards away.

�Hey!  You two -- get over here.  I want a report!�

Blin had hoped they�d get past Tener and his crew without being noticed,
but luck wasn�t with them.  He heard Tener shout and briefly considered
ignoring it.  Seth, however, had already slowed, which meant any chance
of moving on and claiming they hadn�t heard the summons was now gone.
He sighed.

�Hey Tener,� Blin called, turning to face the group.  �Uh, not much to
report, I�m afraid.  Junk, mostly -- we already left it at the heap.�

Seth looked from Blin to Tener.  �Yeah, mostly junk.  Sorry.  Not much
out there to the east, we�ve checked a hundred times-�

Tener cut him off.  �Then check a hundred and one times.  And what do
you mean �mostly� junk?�  He started walking towards the two pickers.
�Mostly, huh?  And what about the stuff that wasn�t junk?�  He closed in
on the two and poked a finger.

�You wouldn�t be holding out on me, would you?  Because you know what
happens if you steal from the settlement.  You know what happens if you
don�t pay the security fee?�  That was Tener�s personal cut, as he had
taken it upon himself to arrange to keep the settlement safe -- not that
they had much, collectively, to steal.  He made sure of that, keeping
all the valuable salvage for himself.

�No fee, no security, and no settlement.�  Tener went to fold his arms
across his chest, but the pile of boards made it difficult and
uncomfortable. Instead, he pointed at them again, stabbing the air to
emphasize his words.  �Don�t let me found out you�re skimping.  I�d like
nothing better to get rid of the freeloaders.  It means more water for
the rest of us.�

Seth swallowed and nodded, hoping Tener didn�t ask to check their bags.
Blin said nothing, staring out at the distant horizon.

Instead, Tener stepped back.  �Where are you two headed, anyway?  Hope
it�s gearing up for another picking trip��

Blin spoke. �We�re actually going to check with Crazy Eights.  Figure
he�s been here a while, longer than the rest of us.  Maybe he�ll have an
idea of someplace new to search.�

Tener�s laugh was rough and startling.  �Crazy Eights?  That nutty old
creep?  He doesn�t know a damn thing!�  Still laughing, he turned to the
rest of his crew.  �They�re goin� to see Crazy Eights, you hear that?
Like that loon knows anything.  Ha!�  Tener slapped his knee and the
rest of his crew followed a moment later.

�Don�t waste too much time there, got it?�  Tener warned.  �I need you
back out there,� he pointed at the open desert, �first thing tomorrow.�

Seth wasted no time.  �Got it, Tener.  First thing!�  He grabbed Blin�s
arm.  �Come on, let�s go do something incredibly stupid.�

Crazy Eights lived as far from the settlement as anyone could, and still
be considered a part of their makeshift town in the shadow of Vegas.  He
kept to himself and everyone was OK with that.  However he�d earned the
�crazy� part of his name, it fit.  The man was long in years -- the
oldest inhabitant by far, although it was impossible to put a number to
those years.  The old guy lived alone, and had for as long as anyone
could remember, but he kept up a lively stream of conversation in his
solitude all the same.  No one could make any sense of what Crazy Eights
rambled about most of the time, but it had never struck Blin as random
babbling -- it was simply incomprehensible.  But then, Crazy Eights had
probably been around back when Vegas was an open city, and everything
worked, and bullies didn�t run the world.

They found him shuffling around outside his haphazard little hut, made
up of discarded junk and faded sheets of vinyl all cobbled together.
Crazy Eights was talking, just like always -- long, indecipherable
strings of things that sounded important, or at least, had been
important at some point in the past.  Integrated circuits.  Arduinos.
Capacitance and ground planes?  Blin knew what planes were, even if he�d
never seen one.  Big metal things shaped like birds that could fly in
the air.  It seemed impossible, but there were old pictures he�d seen,
so he knew planes were real.  Were there planes that moved on the ground
too?

Blin waited for Crazy Eights to stop talking before approaching, which
he did tentatively.  �Uh, sir?  Mister Eights?�

They old man turned, slowly, unable to lift his stooped shoulders, or
even turn his neck much.

�Yeah boy, what is it?  I haven�t got nothin� for you to take, so go
bother someone else. Leave an old man alone.�

�That�s not why we�re here, sir.�  Blin stepped forward, holding his
C-board out where Crazy Eights could see it plainly.  �We found these,
out along 15 to the southwest.  Two of them, brand new.  They work and
everything.�  He cleared his throat and looked around, catching Seth�s
eye.

�I mean, we think they work.  They light up, and the screen turns on.�
Blin indicated the broken ring of metallic pads along the edge.  �And we
found a way to type on it, kind of, touching these circles.�  It was
slow and tedious, but it worked, as long as they were careful to not
make any mistakes -- which meant starting over.

The sight of the board stilled Crazy Eight�s incessant shuffling, and he
craned his head to get a better look.  �I�ll be damned,� he murmured.
�Let me see that, bring it closer.  I never thought I�d see one of these
again.�

Seth looked concerned, but Blin stepped closer anyway -- close enough
for Crazy Eights to get a good look at the weird markings printed on the
surface.  The old man laughed.

�I haven�t seen a cipher like that in a long time��  Crazy Eights
squinted at the disc for a long time, then lifted his eyes to the two
younger men.  �You gonna give them over to that other one?�  He
indicated his own neck, a gesture unmistakably referring to Tener.  Both
Seth and Blin shook their heads.

�No.  No way.  They�re ours.  And-�  Blin paused and licked his parched
lips.  �And we think they can do things.  I mean, they have to, right?
It looks too -- too complicated to just light up for no reason.  Only�
we can�t figure it out.�  He stared at the old man.

�We thought, maybe, you might be able to show us?�

Crazy Eights lifted his head to look at them both, enough that he
wobbled and appeared as if he might fall over.  Finally, he laughed, the
wrinkles on his face deepening as he smiled. �Ha!  Show you!  HA!�  He
slapped his thigh and began the laborious process of shuffling back
around in the direction of his hut.  With gnarled fingers, he gestured
for them to follow.

�Come on, both of you.  Inside, where we can talk away from all the ears
this place has.�

Seth and Blin shared a glance and broke into excited grins.  �I told
you!� Blin mouthed, before following after the departing elder.  Seth
was right behind him.

As Crazy Eights pulled open the door to his home, he asked, �What do you
kids know about networks�?�

3.

The blood red glow of the morning sun over old Vegas spilled slowly
across the dusty expanse of clay-colored sand and nondescript rock,
chasing away the cold, alien glow that emanated from the city in the
distance.  Baked ground, weakly projecting waves of heat towards the
dull sky, began to recharge like an enormous power pack under the
awesome radiance of the sun, whose glow was no longer filtered through a
protective layer of atmospheric ozone.

Many children were up this early, playing in the town and at a distant
water station that was situated on the northern end of Vegas.  But the
adults of the town were mostly still asleep.

Sarah was nearly always the first of the villagers to arrive at the
manually operated water pumps.  They were lined along the sides of an
enormous steel drum which was at least 20 feet long and 6 feet in
diameter.  She knew how the water system worked better than most.  Her
grandparents had been farmers, and from a young age she had heard
stories of unbelievable and vulgar use of water.  These were products of
the past and of an ignorant and disdainful way of life, left behind when
the Earth�s drinkable water sources all but ran out, consumed faster
than they could be replenished.  She enjoyed the dawn because she could
tend to her chores before the heat made moving around outside
unbearable.  Today she would make soup and tend to her little girl,
Katy, getting her to school before working to make shoes in her cramped
hut.

Setting down her plastic bucket under a spigot, she wrapped her hands
around the grooved and pitted metal handle of the water pump and pulled
firmly.  Sarah almost fell over when instead of meeting with the normal
resistance she was used to, there was a brief chirp of rusted metal
across rusted metal and then the lever fell to the ground with a loud
thud.  She jumped at the unexpected sound, luckily causing her to step
back from the long metal bar.  It hit the ground hard enough that she
could feel it in her shoes.

Her lips quirked to the side, pulling her face into a slight frown as
she stepped forward.  The lack of any support for the lever meant�
Sarah shook her head.  The explanation that had jumped to mind was that
there was no water in the system.  This was impossible: it was only
April, a month after their water had been filled to 5/8 full and three
months until they would be able to get any more.  There was no possible
way that the system could be empty.

Walking around the mounting bracket which held the long pole, allowing
it to pivot around a well-oiled rod that supported the weight of the
chain and piston, she peered down at the device, examining whether the
piston had been released or the rod had bent or slipped.  Everything
looked to be in good working order.  Sarah was about to walk back to her
bucket when a lighter glow of metal caught her eye.  There in the dull
and oxidized plating around the outlet hole were deep cuts along the
metal, revealing the bright, reflective iron underneath, the
accumulation of years of grime scraped away.  Her eyes widened.  There,
next to the outlet, there was another, wide hole that had been bored
down into the underlying well by a mounted drill.  She swore under her
breath: raiders.

She ran towards the village hall, bucket forgotten.

�..

The mood of the assembled townspeople was grim.  After measuring the
remaining well-water, they discovered that there was only enough for 20,
maybe 30 days under the most severe rationing.  The small village that
had prided itself in its independence in the desert outside Vegas,
having survived there for almost 40 years, since the fall of the Last
World, was facing a cruel and imminent extinction.

Blin and Seth stood among them as they murmured to each other, both lost
in thought.  Tener walked to the center of the crowd and looked at them
with stern determination.  His solemn stare quieted them and they waited
for him to speak.

�We all realize this is a blow to our community and to our safety.  I
want everyone to know that we will survive -- I promise you this.�  He
took a moment to walk slowly around the center of the crowd, addressing
them as he strolled.  �I have reflected long and hard on how we will
restore our water reserves, and I have decided that we will again
produce rain with our technology and at the same time, we will set up a
ward on the well that will protect it from the raiders.�  He looked into
the eyes of the people closest to him who nodded in quiet agreement,
shellshocked but eased by Tener�s conviction.

�A �ward� you say?�

Everyone turned to Blin with shocked looks.  It was rare that Tener was
openly challenged and for someone like Blin to do so, a picker and a
nobody, was unheard of.  Tener himself turned sharply, eyebrows raised.

�Yes, a ward!  Do you mock what I say, fool?�

�I�m not mocking anything,� Blin replied coolly.  �But putting some
boards on the well isn�t going to stop the raiders.  For that matter,
you can�t just make rain, Tener.  It�s��

�It happened, Blin, you know this!  This technology has power that we
can wield if we understand it as I do.�

�You don�t understand these boards, Tener.�  Blin had stepped forward
into the open circle in the middle of the assembly.  �They aren�t magic.
They�re just� they�re tools.  And they have rules, just like any other
tools.  Listen to me -- I�ve been talking to Crazy Eights and I think we
can use the C-boards to create a perimeter that would let us know if the
raiders tried to enter the village.  It�s called �infrared�...�

Tener cut him off with a loud, scoffing laugh.  ��Infrared�, huh?  What
nonsense is this?  You would believe one of our insane over me, Blin?�
He looked out into the crowd and gestured at them.  �And you?  Do you
believe this fantasy?�  People began to shift uncomfortably, many of
them turning away from Blin and Seth.  A general murmur of dissent
passed through the crowd.

�You mean well, Blin,� offered Tener dismissively.  �But we will go with
my plan.  Everyone is going to be alright.�  He smiled and brushed his
hands over the C-boards that were laid neatly across his chest.

Blin was red with frustration and embarrassment.  Seth put a hand on his
shoulder.  �You tried.�

�We�re all in trouble.�

Blin turned and kicked a rock sharply, sending it skittering across the
dirt and down into a shallow ditch.  Someone was looking at him -- it
was Crazy Eights.  The old man smiled and winked inscrutably and turned,
leaving with the crowd.

�..

Tener�s goons and many townspeople remained in the center of the
village, assisting with the creation of the rain summoning device and
helping with affixing the selected C-boards to planks distributed around
the well in the shape of a triangle.  It took hours, but when they were
done, the city center was decorated in a way which could only be
described as festive.  In the dark of the falling night, colored lights
in red, blue, green and orange blinked and flashed.  When all of the
preparations were complete, everyone shuffled quietly to bed.  Last
among them was Blin, who looked at the C-boards and shook his head.

�..

When the village woke the next morning, the grim mood turned to terror.
Not only had the raiders returned, they had destroyed many of the
C-boards, leaving them sprinkled in parts all around the village.  What
boards they had not destroyed they had taken with them, along with
another 10 days worth of water.

The mood at the next assembly was panicked.  Tener could barely be heard
above their voices, raised in urgent expressions of fear to each other,
to Tener, to the gods themselves.  Though Tener tried to calm them with
comforting words and another plan, their confidence had eroded.  They
disbanded without a plan, everyone focused on the question of whether
they would have to leave with as much water as they could carry and try
to pay their way into another town.  The nearest village they knew about
was over 100 miles away, aside from Vegas.  The journey at this time of
year would likely kill them before they even made it.

Blin and Seth sat together that night throwing rocks at a cactus husk,
silent.  The night sky was beautiful, the stars clearly visible through
a slight haze.  The town was quiet again, most people asleep, but the
mood was somehow still tense, desperate.

�What do you think it�s like inside Vegas?� Seth asked.

�I don�t know,� said Blin, shaking his head.  �I�ve heard that it is
huge and there is running water everywhere.�  He laughed derisively.  So
much water in one place, and not enough for a few hundred people just
half a mile away.  Blin wondered whether the water it would take to keep
the village alive for a day, for a month, for a year even, would even be
noticed by a city with enough water to sustain a hundred thousand.

Blin sat up straighter.  They wouldn�t even notice it, he again thought
to himself, now looking distractedly off into the distance.

�What�s wrong, Blin?�

Blin didn�t even hear the question.  He was thinking back to something
Crazy Eights had said about water control systems and security
protocols.  Something about networks, and radios, and codes.  �Blin?�

There was a screen that he had shown Blin once that he had called a
�random number generator.�  By entering some commands, he could produce
numbers that would show up on the screen.  A fun diversion, but not
particularly useful.  But� what if he could send those numbers over the
network?  What if the water system station that the kids played on at
the outskirts of Vegas was listening to such a network?

�Brother!  Blin, what is going on?�

�Pack your bags for the scavenge of your life, and grab two of the
biggest wheelbarrows we have.  We�re going hunting.�

�Hunting for what?�

�Water.�

4.

Blin and Seth hiked with as many water pouches, barrels and flasks they
could carry and tie to themselves and drag.  It was slow going and
tiring.  It took them until well into the middle hours of the night to
arrive at the enormous water station that sat at the northern outskirts
of Vegas.  It was an imposing structure of metal with huge bolts and
thick, steel sides.  Enormous pipes ran through it which gave the
children of the village many places to play games of hide and seek or
test their balance by hoisting each other up on top of the pipes to see
how far they could walk along its curved top before sliding down one
side into the sand.

On the far side of the structure was a huge round pipe end that led
nowhere, closed off with steel panels attached to a control panel with a
number pad and a strange circular cut out that Blin vaguely remembered
was called a �keyhole� according to Crazy Eights.  Blin and Seth could
hear the water rushing and gurgling through the pipes, so close, but so
completely out of reach.  It was otherwise quiet and the night was still
and somewhat warmer than a usual night.

�We don�t have a long time before we have to go, Blin,� Seth remarked
nervously.  �We don�t have a lot of water with us, and if we get caught
out in the desert when the sun comes out��

Blin didn�t hear him.  He was looking down at four of the C-boards he
had brought.  He had also brought a few strange looking wires Crazy
Eights had given him.  What had Crazy told him about routing one device
to another?  So much of what the man told him made a strange kind of
instinctive sense to him, as though he had in another life actually
built such devices and knew their secrets.  He fiddled with the wires
and pressed buttons, finally returning the boards to a mode where each
one was generating numbers.

Seth looked on doubtfully and began to tap the steel walls with his
knuckles nervously, hammering out a rhythm with exaggerated enthusiasm.
After an hour of entertaining himself this way, wandering around the
object, trying to balance on the pipe as the children did, and finally
lying on his back in the sand so he could look out at the glow of Vegas,
he called out.  �Blin, we have to go man.�

To Blin, no time had passed.  He was intent.  The wires he held had all
been set into slots on the C-boards, and he kept swearing under his
breath, reversing these two wires or those.  He knew he was running out
of time, but nothing seemed to work.  He shook his head, running his
hands through his hair and looking at the sky.  It was over.  They had
to get back.

Blin stood up, dusting his pants off and stomping on the ground in
frustration.  One of the boards jumped slightly with the vibration and
its edge hit the edge of the steel wall of the pump.

A loud pair of beeps sounded suddenly, causing Blin to almost fall over
and Seth to jump up, alarmed.  An incredibly bright light turned on at
the top of the pipe end above the number pad and suddenly, the two
plates split open.  The force of the water that splashed out was so
great that it sent Seth�s backpack tumbling across the desert ground,
rolling and accumulating and splashing mud until it was entirely out of
sight.

The two men looked at each other, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.  Seth
looked up at the sky and yelled, joined in a chorus of hoots and
childish screams by Blin.

5.

A cup of tepid water had never tasted so good.  Blin drank deep and
passed the bucket over to Seth, who was too busy showing off his C-board
to a group of skinny settlement kids to notice.  The deep dread that had
hung over all of them was gone, and it seemed like everyone had come out
to celebrate.

Everyone but Tener.  Even his goons had abandoned him, coming over to
join in the impromptu gathering in the center of town.  That tipped
Tener over the edge.  At the edge of the main thoroughfare, Tener stood,
fuming, at the celebration happening not because of him, but in spite of
him.  He tore the hanging boards from his neck and threw them to the
ground, cracking them into shards as he stomped upon the pile.  His
tantrum was not yet complete.

�You�re all gonna be sorry!�  He yelled, red-faced and fraught.  �You
think Blin is gonna run this town better than me, do you?�  Plastic
crunched beneath the sole of his battered boot.

The assembled group fell silent and stared.  They stared at Tener.  They
looked over to Blin, and back to Tener.  Then a voice responded from
deep in the crowd.

�No, we don�t!�

Tener blinked and raised his head, his jaw hanging slack at the
unexpected response.

Another voice joined the first:  �But Crazy Eights will!�

A chorus of cheering shouts rose up, drowning out Tener�s frustrated
howls.  He stomped a bit more on the crushed and broken boards before
storming off to his shed, alone.

Crazy Eights shuffled out towards the gathered folks, smiling
uncertainly as the very people who�d avoided him and ignored him for
years were suddenly clapping him on the back.  Seth walked with him,
explaining what they�d done to get the water back, and how Crazy Eights
had helped them come up with the plan.

Blin hung back, sitting by himself on some old crates, sipping at his
cup of water and smiling.  He never could have anticipated an outcome
like this -- not from a few bits of metal and plastic dug out from the
desert just a few days ago.  He looked down at his own, sliding his
thumb along the edge as he considered everything Crazy Eights had told
them -- about people, and how things used to be.  About technology, and
how machines like computers used to be bigger than a shack, shrinking
smaller and smaller until they could fit in the palm of your hand.

His display lit up.  He hadn�t touched any of the pads, which was odd.
Maybe it was broken?  He hoped not, Blin had barely started
understanding what it was capable of.

A message appeared on the display:

> Well done, Blin.

He looked up, checking to see if Seth had sent that -- but no, Seth was
busy talking, and no one was touching his C-board.  Blin looked back at
the display, and carefully drafted a short response:

>> Thanks.  Had help.  Who is this?

He shook his head.  Who else could be sending messages to him?  There
wasn�t anyone else with one of these boards that he knew of.  Maybe it
was one of Tener�s?  That didn�t seem likely, but who else would have
one of the devices, and also know what happened in the town?

> We�ve been waiting for you.

Blin sat back.  Waiting for� him?   Who?  Why?

> Vegas gates. Sundown.

Yeah, right.  This had to be a trick.  You didn�t just walk up to the
gates of Vegas like that.  They didn�t let people like him in, ever.  It
had to be a trick.  He typed:

>> Why?  Who is this?

The response came quickly, leaving him no time to think.

> You�ll see.  Ask 88.  > Sundown.  You.  Seth.

Ask 88?  88 what?  Blin looked up at the crowd, scanning for Seth.  His
eyes fell on Crazy Eights.  88.  Could that have been what the message
meant?  Ask Crazy Eights?  How would he know?  Were there other C-boards
out there?  Is that how he knew what theirs could do?

Blin jumped up and jogged to the crowd.  It took a few minutes to shoo
away the settlers surrounding Crazy Eights, but finally he had the old
man separated from the rest.  He held the display so Crazy Eights could
see.

�Is that you?  Are you 88?�  He asked.

The old man replied with a laugh.  �Haven�t been called that in� oh,
it�s been a long time.  A long time.  But Crazy Eights, that�s a good
name too.  You tell �em that, I said so.�  Crazy Eights turned to look
at the towers rising up from the desert in the distance.

�You�re going, ain�t ya?  It�s not everyday you get an invitation like
that.  You should go.�  He patted Blin on the arm.

�Both you boys.  You earned it.  It�s just the start, kid.  Just the
beginning.  Go get your friend and pack up.  Be there at sunset like
they said, and tell �em 88 says �Hey,� for me.�  Crazy Eights winked and
shuffled back into the crowd.

�..

They were at the gates at sundown.  Other than tons of heavy metal
plating and yards of razor wire keeping them out, there was nothing --
and no one -- to greet them.  Seth sighed.

�Are you sure about this?  How do we know it�s not a trick?  Maybe
someone sent us out here to rob us -- like Tener?  Or worse, the
raiders?�  He looked back at the gates and shook his head.  �This is
crazy, Blin.  Craziest idea you�ve had yet.  They don�t let anyone in,
especially not our kind.�

�88 -- I mean, Crazy Eights wouldn�t lie about this.�  Blin stared at
the C-board in his hand, willing the display to light up with another
message.  It stayed dark, aside from a lonely blinking prompt.

�Maybe��  His finger slid across the pads, tapping in a message.

>> We�re here

Blin paused and added a second line.

>> 88 says hey

For a minute all was quiet.  Then lights came to life, one after
another, from atop the wall before them.  Blin and Seth were dazzled by
the illumination, blinding even in daylight, and shielded their eyes
with their forearms.  Screaming metal sounded ahead of them and a dark
portal slid open in the wall.

They lowered their arms and blinked, trying to make out what was ahead.
A single figure stood between the open gates, backlit and impossible to
identify.  The figure raised a hand and waved.

�Hey.  Glad you could make it.  We�ve been waiting for you.  Come on
in.�

Seth glanced at Blin and smiled.  They made their way inside.

�Welcome to Vegas -- home of DEFCON.�