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The Brave New World 64 Burial Party

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The teenagers began to die a couple of hours later.

The boy that had tried to be a hero was the first to go. Sven had amputated the little fingers on each of his hands with clinical precision, cutting them off midway between their joints. Losing the top part of a little finger wasn't the end of the world. The kid would regain normal use of his hands once the wounds healed. There would be no infection: Ulla had sterilized the wounds with hot tar, which had the added benefit of stopping the bleeding.

Sven watched her closely as she did that, and detected a hint of pleasure in her face when the kid screamed while she dripped smoking tar onto the wound. And she knew she was being watched! If he'd had his back turned, she'd have probably grinned from ear to ear. He had to do something about her, and soon.

The unhappy kid that died first had been walking at the head of the column of four captives. He had been moaning and blubbering all along so no one paid attention when he let out a longer moan. But then he just dropped to the ground like a puppet whose strings had just been cut.

Sven ordered the others to keep going: he wanted to reach the mine well before nightfall, so that they could check its surroundings for hostile presence. Maybe they'd even be able to locate the kids' camp - they'd said it was just a few kilometers away from the mine. He stayed behind with his team: Henrik, Ulla, and La.s.se.

They stood and watched Ulla examine the kid for signs of life. After a while, she looked up at them and shook her head.

"Dead as a doornail," she said, and Sven noted that she didn't smile. Maybe she felt the kid's death reflected badly on her first-aid skills.

"Sorry, guys," Sven said. Henrik grimaced.

"I've already dug a grave today," he said. Sven nodded.

"Right," he said. "Ulla, go with La.s.se. Find a spot that will make it quick and easy - soft soil, no stones or tree roots. Go on, move. I want to find the camp of those hotshots before the end of the day."

He and Henrik waited by the fresh corpse, watching Ulla and La.s.se as they moved around, with La.s.se prodding the ground with the end of his bow from time to time. It was clear he didn't have great respect for the bow as a weapon, and Sven sighed. He would have to have a stern talk with the guys who were working on a prototype crossbow. It was taking far too long.

"Do you think he died of shock?" asked Henrik, looking at the dead kid. Sven shook his head.

"No," he said. "Someone pulled the plug on him, back in the Old World."

"You mean the guy removed his implant?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't he do it sooner? As soon as you cut off the first finger?"

"Those kids are smart," Sven said. "They want to find out more about us. That's why they're keeping the other three alive. This particular kid probably didn't like the pain."

"The guy who controlled him could feel it?"


"Of course. Not as badly, maybe it was more of an itch than real pain. I wouldn't know. I haven't had any fingers amputated. Hey, Ulla's found a final resting place for the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d. She's waving to us. Grab his legs."

They carried the body to where Ulla and La.s.se were already hacking at the ground with their axes. Henrik was carrying a short shovel whose edges were as a sharp as a sword's, and a shallow grave was ready in next to no time. They put the boy's body inside, covered it, and then moved to catch up with the rest of the party, walking as fast as they could without breaking into a run.

As they walked, Sven took a good look at the sun and tried to work out his chances of finding the kids' camp before night fell. They weren't good. They had at most three hours of daylight left, and it would take nearly two to reach the mine.

Locating the kids' camp wasn't really that urgent. He was sure they were all gone already. That was why he'd cut off that girl's head right in front of their faces. He wanted to get a strong message through to the kids' controllers in the Old World. f.u.c.k around with the Vikings, and you get your head cut off.

Yes, the camp would be empty when he found it. But that was okay. He was interested in how it was set up. Also, it could be a good site for founding a fresh settlement. He had to get as many settlements going as quickly as possible! All h.e.l.l would break loose on the first of March.

Maybe he shouldn't wait for the weather to get warmer before setting off on his planned motorcycle tour of the Viking club chapters. Yes, he would go earlier than he planned, on second or third of March. It meant Ulla's mental recovery time would be cut shorter, but he couldn't help it.

He stopped suddenly, struck by a new idea, and Henrik b.u.mped into him.

"Sorry, Sven," he said instantly. The other two glanced at them, and went on without stopping. Henrik walked after them without another look at Sven. They all knew that when Sven froze like that, he'd just had one of his many brilliant ideas, and wanted to be alone for a while.

Sven waited until they were twenty paces ahead before following in their footsteps. He didn't really want to kill Ulla. She was useful. She knew a lot about herbs, and had quickly become Svenborg's resident healer and midwife. And she was an awesome cook in both worlds.

The thing was, he'd already reimplanted her once, and it didn't work. The Ulla that was reborn in the New World began to slide into madness within a month of arrival. And her controller back in the Old World, the Ulla on Holm's farm near Jokkmokk, had continued getting crazier without a hiccup.

What if he did things differently this time? What if he killed Ulla's second self in the New World by traditional means - sword, ax, a stone to the head? He already knew that when a New World life was ended, the controller's implant simply disappeared. He'd seen it happen time and time again right at the start of their colonial venture, when they were chain-replicating sheep destined for instant slaughter. The blue light went out, and that was it. He and Olaf had split many implanted and non-implanted sheep skulls in both worlds, looking for traces. Olaf was familiar with sheep brains from his stint as a butcher's a.s.sistant, and he said he could see absolutely no differences.

But maybe there were subtle differences. It was logical to a.s.sume that a stream of information from another reality had a lasting effect. Maybe not strong enough to bring about biological changes, but psychological changes - yes! He would kill the New World Ulla the traditional way, and wait for a while before reimplanting her controller in the Old World. The shock of the killing coupled with a break from the New World could heal her.

He'd have to be careful, though. She couldn't know it was coming, couldn't know it was him. If she did, Old World Ulla would b.i.t.c.h for months, he was sure. And she'd acquire a new source of stress to feed her madness.

They all caught up with the main group just before they reached the mine. By that time, the sun was already setting. By that time, all of the kids were dead; their masters in the Old World had decided to call it a day.

Sven insisted on giving each one a burial. He did it for practical reasons; he knew there were wolves around. Very few, and very shy. Sven didn't want the wolves to get into the habit of patrolling the route to the mine in the hope of finding fresh cadavers. They were multiplying and getting more aggressive as it was. His herders had killed a couple that winter; earlier on, it would have been unthinkable for wolves to get that close.

All the burying they did en route meant they arrived at the mine too late to begin looking for the kids' camp that day. It wasn't urgent any more: Sven was sure its inhabitants were already well on the way somewhere else. It could also be that all of them were dead, that their masters back in the Old World decided to start again in a different location from the first one. Whatever; Sven knew they would do their very best not to upset the Vikings again.

They lit a huge bonfire that evening, without caring who saw it. La.s.se had killed a couple of rabbits with his bow, so they had fresh roast in additions to their rations. The general mood was much better than it had been the previous night.

Sven chose that moment to reveal their plans for the next day. The miners would get busy looking for precious ore, and the escort would scour the area to the north in an attempt to find the kids' camp.

"I don't think we'll be in any danger," he told them. "So this time, we'll go in pairs. Uwe, you'll stay here, just in case. La.s.se, you go with Henrik."

He looked at Ulla and smiled and said:

"And you - you'll come with me."

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