Homesick

Sally and Ian left the road for the cover of the trees as the slope became greater. The mist had cleared in the rising sun and the whole valley was now clearly visible, which meant the road would be just as visible from below. When they peered through an open area in the trees, they got their first look at the camp. In the sea of greenery, it was an earthen-colored blob dotted with the small figures of people bustling about. Its edges were not clearly defined, but it held a rough rectangular shape and Sally could just make out the contours of some kind of platform that made up most of it. It could have been a paved lot or a concrete foundation, but the nature of the traffic made it look more like an anthill. The steps of countless people had tracked dirt in from all directions and painted the whole area a uniform beige. The people were clustered in large groups, which formed flesh-colored islands amid the lighter earthen-colored ground, churning and moving across the camp in unison like a few giant microscopic organisms.

“That’s it!” Ian whispered, consulting his hand-held. “He’s down there! He must be!”

“And he’s alive,” Sally confirmed. She pointed to her biomonitor display. “I’ve switched it to his frequency. I don’t have most of his bios, but his heart’s still beating.”

Ian studied the indicators and nodded. He then pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the camp. It was large and spread out, making it difficult to see the whole of it even from a distance. The binoculars, however, allowed him to isolate sections of it in useful detail. He could see what looked like a smokestack connected to a crumbling featureless building that resembled a festering wound in diseased flesh. Groups of people passed by it with loads on their backs. Some entered and exited the structure like dutiful insects carrying out orders only they understood. Continuing his search, he paused at what looked like a turning waterwheel. Beyond the camp, almost out of sight, were a series of much cleaner-looking buildings. They were tall, almost majestic, and showed no signs of the neglect Sally and Ian had seen everywhere else. At first glance they seemed to be an alien interpretation of a castle-like motif, with spires, towers, and large courtyards. They contrasted sharply with the labor camp, which appeared to surround the princely structures. The castle grounds were airy and green, separated from the camp by a fortified stonewall. Perhaps these were the homes of the Masters.

Ian studied the wheel again. Something about it seemed unusual, though it took him a while to recognize what it was. No water. Before he could ponder what made the wheel turn, he was shocked to see worker after worker emerge from inside.

“What the bloody hell is this place?” he thought out loud.

“Let me see,” Sally said, taking the binoculars. The bodies of the workers caught her interest at once. They were frail, malnourished, ghosts of people and yet they were doing strenuous work. She let her hands slowly lower the binoculars and exchanged astonished looks with Ian. But Ian’s face had become red with uncharacteristic fury.

“You know what that is? I’ve seen pictures of places like that. It’s a bloody Auschwitz! Nazi Germany. That’s a labor camp! It’s a bloody camp if I ever saw one! My granddad spent a couple of years in a place like that. Lost his leg, bless him. If Scott’s in there, he’s done for! If we try to spring him, we’ll get caught ourselves!”

Sally studied the scene again, panning the binoculars from side to side.

“Take another look,” she said, handing the binoculars back.

He did. “Doesn’t look any better.”

“What’s missing?”

“Well, I’m not saying I’m expecting bloody swastikas!”

“That’s not what I mean,” Sally said. “Maybe I don’t know where to look, but when you talked about ‘springing him’ and ‘getting caught,’ it occurred to me most prisons have walls. I don’t see any, do you? Are any of those people even chained?”

Ian squinted through the lenses and then looked back to her. “Good God, you’re right! So, what’s keeping them in there then?”

“Maybe an electronic device,” Sally suggested. She pulled out her hand-held. “Did you check for electrical activity?”

“Yes I did, actually, and now I know where it’s coming from.” He handed the binoculars back. “See that wheel?”

Sally looked. “It turns a generator?”

“More like a small industrial turbine,” he said with reluctant respect. “People powered. That’s part of the power signature we read from space!”

“Are you sure? I thought we suspected there was a network of fuel cells and solar arrays on this continent.”

“There probably is, but I’d say they’re not up to par anymore. It’s like the satellite. I mean, they must still be getting something from the solar and a few municipal fuel cells may still be active, but things like that have to be maintained. That satellite in space is getting less than half its intended power supply. Ground based solar arrays are even more fragile. That wheel is most probably some kind of supplement. I also think they may have more wheels like that on the other side of those buildings.”

“But why use people to generate power?”

He shrugged. “Why did Hitler use POW’s and Jews to do factory work? They’re the cheapest available labor, that’s why! Even in peacetime my father saw poor bastards in China doing the work of bulldozers for five cents an hour. They’re so hungry they’ll work for anything. Get enough of them together and they’ll move all the Earth you want!”

He turned to her with a more serious expression. “Remember, we picked up this signature from space. It’s more powerful than it looks. That means they could have electronic tracking equipment and who knows what else!”

“Could it be enough to generate some kind of force field?”

He puzzled a moment. “No, I think not. That kind of technology is hard to operate even with fusion reactors.”

“Then what’s keeping them there?” she asked again.

“I wish I knew,” he said through gritted teeth. “Because, if we’re going in there, we need to know what we’re facing. We can’t just charge the place blind!”

“We may have to eventually,” she said, looking him hard in the eyes. “We’ve come this far and we’re not leaving without him.” She paused to let her words sink in. “Right?”

Ian swallowed hard and nodded, looking back at the camp more critically. “We can circle around to the side,” he suggested. “If we stay in the trees we might be able to go unnoticed until we get closer.”

Sally nodded, clapping him gently on the shoulder.

“But let’s assume these bloody Masters are like the Nazis.”

“What do you mean?”

Ian sucked his breath. “My point is, there’s got to be something keeping those poor sods in there and it has to be something worse than whatever is in there! Something that doesn’t just kill you, but takes a while doing it.” His voice trailed off into a loud whisper.

Sally nodded at his logic and shuddered inwardly.

“Look out for trip wires, evidence of mines, or anything else nasty that might keep those blokes from making a run for it. Look hard! Don’t take a step without being bloody sure you’re not going to lose your foot!”

Sally did cringe this time and Ian saw. They exchanged another important look. A decision had to be made.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, pointing to the camp.