Kenopsia (Book 1 of Pandora's Wake: The Nomad Chronicles)
Night time

The night sky was the clearest it had been for a long time. Gazing upon it now in all its glory, Knut almost forgot that the world he once knew was gone.

It seemed at once both peaceful and almost obscene that the universe would tick on as if nothing had happened. The Other-Verse had come crashing over the unprepared world, and ever since then, Knut had been running.

Save for tonight. Tonight they’d found a place that seemed safe – at least for now.

The old campsite was overgrown and neglected, but at least the weeds that overran it were terrestrial. There were no sickly purple fronds or deadly red blossoms here. Nor could the caravan’s reconnaissance element replace any sign of alien fauna in the area. Tonight, they had made camp and let their guard down, just a little. Well, perhaps not let it down. Knut smiled to himself as he saw the silhouette of Oberfeldwebel Joanas Ulrich as he paced backwards and forwards along the roof of the airport bus. The nomads pressed the bus into service as a mobile home for Madame Monnier and her three children. The German sergeant had been with the UN Counter Alien Incursion Force in Eastern Europe before it collapsed. Despite his gruff, hard exterior he had a soft spot for children, dogs and chocolate and had made it his personal mission to see that no harm came to the Monnier’s. Oberfeldwebel Ulrich peered out towards the road as he paced, his night vision goggles snapped into place. If anything tried and approach the campsite tonight from the north or the east, it would be unlikely that it escaped Ulrich’s notice.

The west and south approaches were watched by Ulrich’s Unteroffizier, Kurt Balchmire. Kurt was a very different man to his staff sergeant. Despite the corporal’s irreverent humour, it seemed the two men worked well together and were as close to friends as men separated by several ranks ever were. Balchmire sat in the copula of the armoured combat vehicle they had used to escape the Eastern collapse and rescue doctor Allmendinger and her Nurse, Cherubin Lukeba. Knut didn’t know the details of their escape and their flight across a ravaged Switzerland, but then it hardly mattered now. They were all here and had served the nomads well. Balchmire swept his observation area every few minutes – his hands resting on the control handles of the fearsome 50 calibre machine gun mounted in the MRAP’s turret. He’d been good enough to train several of the nomads in its use – in case of emergencies – but loathed letting them crew it.

He had to let them sometimes, of course. Even Balchmire had to sleep. Lately, he had taken to doing most of his sleeping by day, so he could man the 50 by night – the time of greatest vulnerability for the nomads.

A sneeze broke Knut’s train of thought. He looked round as Oberfeldwebel Ulrich doubled over to sneeze again, a violent explosive sneeze that would alert anyone to their presence, should such a person be lurking in the darkness. Ulrich muttered something mildly obscene in German and Knut suppressed a chuckle before calling up to him in a hoarse stage whisper,

“Is everything alright Oberfeldwebel?” He used the staff sergeant’s official title, although it was somewhat redundant now. Nevertheless, Knut thought it seemed appropriate somehow.

“Ja Professor. There must be something nearby that flowers the pollen in the night, Ja? Allergies!” he clarified.

Knut grunted an affirmative and returned to the centre of the camp. The nomads – a rather fanciful name for a band of rag-tag survivors who were all running away in the same direction and who banded together for a modicum of protection – surround their camp with their vehicles. In the centre they now sat on a variety of folding chairs, crates and storage boxes, sharing stories and passing about a bottle of what passed for Vodka that Magda Zwolinski had “found” among her personal gear. Knut took the proffered bottle from her as he arrived in their midst and took a swig before passing it on to Father Businger. A priest before the event, Businger seemed to be adapting to the new world better than Knut would have expected for a man of God faced with such an apocalypse. The middle-aged priest chugged some of the Vodka before passing it on as he shuddered and muttered something in Swiss-German that Knut didn’t catch. It was probably a comment about the ‘Vodka’. Where Magda acquired it he shuddered to think – he wasn’t certain she hadn’t refined it from the fuel of one of the convoy’s many vehicles. She seemed to have an almost unending supply of it though, which baffled Knut. He’d decided weeks ago it was best not to ask the civil engineer too many questions on the matter. Not that he was afraid she would be offended by the questions – more that he was worried he would be alarmed by the answers!

A peal of laughter rang out across the night as Cherubin finished the joke he’d been telling. Knut smiled, although he’d missed the joke itself, it gladdened him that his people – which is how he’d come to see them – could still laugh, despite everything they’d been through. In the near distance, Ulrich sneezed again as if in answer to him Magda barked out a series of three sharp, explosive sneezes.

“Great!” she grumbled, “Now that damn German even has me sneezing at his command!”.

The assembled nomads guffawed with laughter. Magda’s dislike of all things German was well known, and she seemed to resent that often the caravan’s safety depended on two former German soldiers.

The side door to the airport bus swung open and Madame Monnier peered out, her Gallic features washed to a pallid white by worry. A detail Knut failed to notice at first as he offered an apology,

“We didn’t mean to wake the children Madam, please, accept my apologies...” he trailed off as the worry on her face registered.

“It’s not that,” she spoke with a higher pitch than usual. Her already stretched nerves were on the verge of breaking. “It is Camile and Sebastiane – something is not right! Doctor, will you come and see them?”

Doctor Selina Allmendinger nodded and stood up, swallowing a mouthful of Vodka as she passed the bottle back to one of the others. The doctor trotted to the bus, with Cherubin in tow.

“I am certain it is nothing to worry about Margot, but I will have a look.” She smiled to comfort the French woman who had already been through so much with the loss of her husband and eldest son – but there was something about the doctor’s tone that didn’t match the smile upon her lips.

She was more worried than she wished Margot Monnier to know.

Knut looked back and forth between the worried faces of the two women. Doctor Allmendinger, a skilled physician who had been with Medicin Sans Frontiers when the first diseases from the Other-Verse hit, and Ashley Kane, an English botanist. He didn’t know how she came to be in central Europe but he didn’t much care one way or another.

Doctor Allmendinger had called the pair of them over as soon as she’d emerged from the Monnier bus. It wasn’t lost on Knut that she had left Cherubin, her Congolese-Belgian nurse, with the children and their mother. It was the doctor who spoke first, taking a deep breath she spoke in English,

“It’s an allergic reaction. They are both prone to such things, and the boy has Asthma – the pollen – if that is what it is – has triggered an attack. Cherubin is administering steroids now but we don’t have many left! You will notice there are others affected in the group.”

Knut nodded, even his eyes and nose itched, his lungs already felt heavy and breathing was growing more difficult than it had been before.

“Could it be a night blooming plant?” he asked, his eyes settling on Ashley, the botanist, who’s face was already puffing out – her eyes and nose reddening. She wheezed as she answered,

“Yes and no!” she looked worried, “It’s certainly something that is releasing something – but I am given to think it’s spores, not pollen – something fungal I think. Can you feel the pain in your lungs yet?” she asked. Knut just nodded as the botanist went on, “And I don’t think it’s native to here,” she said pointedly.

“To this part of Switzerland do you mean?” Knut asked. In the pit of his stomach, he felt he already knew the answer to that – and he prayed he was wrong.

He wasn’t.

Ashley shook her head,

“No I mean I don’t think it’s from Earth...” she looked from Knut to the doctor, “Did you understand what I said?” she asked after several seconds of silence. The caravan was comprised of survivors from across half of Europe and the number of different languages they spoke could make conversation difficult sometimes.

“Yes.” Knut sighed, “I just...” he shook his head,

“What do you need?” he asked doctor Allmendinger.

The Swiss medic let out a long breath “Ideally?” she asked. “A full hospital pharmacy and the hospital to go with it. If this is fungal, we will need to treat everyone and soon – and there’s a risk of secondary infection...” she trailed off. The look of alarm on Knut’s face prompted her to change tack.

“There’s a town a few hours up the road – I recall it had a hospital that should have everything we need.”

Knut nodded “But will they still be friendly towards visitors? Especially those that need some of their precious medical resources?” he pondered.

“I don’t think we have a choice – we need to replace out and we need to replace out quickly” Ashley warned, “If they turn us away... well, I don’t think this will go away on its own, and some of those spore infections from the Other-Verse...” she didn’t finish her sentence – she didn’t need to. They had all heard the rumours.

Knut shuddered at the thought – or was it the cold? He tried to convince himself.

“Okay, tell the others to break camp, we had better get moving. I don’t like travelling at night but..”

“There’s more” Ashley cut him off, the shock of it startled Knut – Ashley wasn’t known for rudeness or speaking over others. “We have to replace the source and destroy it!” She almost growled – again, this was out of character and Knut feared the spores were affecting her, just as the rumours said they would, changing those who fell under their spell into violent and aggressive savages.

As if reading his mind Ashley shook her head, “No it isn’t that, don’t worry. I mean, if the wind changes these spores might reach us in the town. Worse – if these are the things we have heard about and anyone else blunders into them – we could have God alone knows how many violent psychopaths roaming around out here. If they replace us...”

“When!” Doctor Allmendinger said. The word sounded as if it weighed heavily upon her lips – she’d seen the people taken by the alien spore madness before, if not for the two Germans, neither her nor Cherubin would ever have escaped them – as it was Kurt and Joanas had been two of 20 soldiers that had come to evacuate her medical station – and the others had all either succumbed to the madness or died fighting those that did.

“It isn’t a matter of if, it’s a matter of When. Ashley is right. We don’t have a choice!”

Knut groaned, but nodded,

“Tell the others to pack up as fast as they can. I will arrange for a team to separate off and go looking for the alien plants – but the rest of us have to head for that hospital now. It may already be too late for the children!”