by J. L. Curtis
Fargo nodded as Luann said to him, “Enough already. I’m tired. I know you’re tiredfrom your trip, and I’m not sure what the kids are into upstairs.”
After getting good night kisses from the kids, Fargo undressed and stretched out on the bed in the guest room. My God. I’m really here. The deal with Mikhail is almost too good to be true, but it would generate some income, and the colonel wants me to get around the star cluster. Seems like a good way to do it.
Fargo dropped off to sleep with a smile on his face.
First Sight
Mikhail and Fargo sat at the table, holograph live in front of them as Mikhail explained the TBT configuration and the nature of the lines crisscrossing Hunter. Zooming in, Mikhail continued, “See, here is the terraformer, the white line is the e-comm coming down from the satellite to ride the beams. That’s where we’re drawing all the power for this region from,” pointing to the terraformer on the expanded holograph, he said, “The terraformer provides a little over three quarter million volts to these repeaters,” pointing to the six main lines radiating from the terraformer, he continued, “The repeaters each get about one hundred thousand volts, due to transmission loss. The e-comm and e-tainment systems have a two way ride on each of those beams with the entire world’s data and provide the feeds for the rest of the region. They are all at higher altitudes on the edge of the Green.”
Rotating the view to a vertical slice, he continued, “See the altitude differences?”
Fargo nodded, “Yep, you’re going up to get range, then coming back down. Subfeeders on the highest building or structure, right?”
Mikhail replied, “Yes. The subfeeders take power and the data from them, and also balance power requirements for the individual locations, whether they are houses or businesses. It’s all based on kilowatt hours, but it’s fairly cheap too. Each location picks off its particular e-comm and e-tainment based on the data address for that location and allow the data to flow back ‘upstream’ to the satellite.”
Switching displays, Mikhail brought up a flight plan route, “Okay, here is how you will have to fly to and from your place. There is a ten mile ring around the spaceport that is TBT free. We feed it underground from this substation, here.” Tracing the route he said, “By eight miles, you need to be five hundred feet AGL or better, which clears everything except the main feed beams here, here and here. For those, you need to be under two thousand, or above five thousand feet AGL.”
Fargo asked, “AGL? Above… Above ground level?”
Mikhail nodded, “That’s it. Now, this flight plan route will automatically display on your nav panel in the liteflyer, and it will automatically deviate to a safe altitude unless you physically override it. Flying into any beam isn’t good, much less flying into a subfeeder or repeater beam.”
Fargo smiled, “Good! I’m not the greatest flyer. I can fly, but not well.”
Mikhail finished the briefing and they loaded up the runabout with Fargo’s trunks and trundled out to the spaceport. Off to one side were small pads with little hangars constructed out of leftover containers. Going to one at the end of the second row, Mikhail thumbed the hatch open, and pointed to the yellow liteflyer on the right, “That’s yours. It’s a convertible, either four place or two place and cargo hold.”
They pulled it out and Mikhail walked Fargo through the configuration sequence, helped him load the trunks in the back, and ran Fargo through the BIT check.
Mikhail asked, “You want me to fly the route and show you, or do you want to do it?”
Fargo smiled, “I’ll bow to your experience, and your local course knowledge. Lead on, kind sir!”
Mikhail laughed and jumped in the left seat. Fargo gingerly got into the right seat, and closed the hatch as Mikhail powered up the liteflyer, “Tower, LF four-six-one, NE departure, destination as filed in the Green.”
Tower replied in a bored electronic voice, “LF four-six-one, cleared for departure. No ship ops scheduled for the next twelve hours.”
Fargo glanced over, “Automated tower and local control?
Mikhail grinned, “It is, until it isn’t, then the fall back is one of the GalPat controllers having to do actual work. That happens, they are grumpy!” Lifting off smoothly, Mikhail selected the autopilot and crossed his arms. Looking at the groundspeed readout, he said, “About an hour at two-ninety-five indicated. You can do it faster, if you push up to high cruise or emergency power. Just be aware if you go to emergency power, it also sets off an alert, and starts sending tracking information to anybody that will listen.”
Fargo nodded, “Okay. So speed runs are emergency only.” Pointing to the control panel and a red line paralleling their line of flight he asked, “Main feed?”
“Yep, actually that’s the one that feeds your cabin. It goes up to a repeater that was a PITA to install, but it’s up almost seven thousand feet, and covers a pretty large area. Your place is only about three thousand feet up, so we’ll stay under that feed.”
For the next hour, Mikhail explained the ins and outs of the community, and their interaction with White Beach, which was technically the world capital. Mikhail was very happy that White Beach was over four thousand miles away, and the administrators didn’t like going ‘out in the field,’ so to speak. Fargo listened with one ear, and drank in the rugged beauty of the Green as it rose in front and to the side of the liteflyer.
Roughly an hour later, Mikhail pointed, “Off your side, two o’clock. That is your one hundred-sixty acres. It encompasses the falls as you wanted, and the plateau all the way down to the tree line. The edge of the ridge is basically the eastern edge, so you’ll get some nice sunsets and moon rises with Celeste and George.”
Momentarily distracted, Fargo said, “What? Celeste and…”
Mikhail said, “They were the first two that died out of the original settlers. So the first white moon is Celeste, and the second or blue moon is George.” Shrugging he continued, “Not my circus, not my monkeys on the naming conventions out here, but I did agree with the naming in these cases.”
Fargo snorted, “Okay. Can we make a low pass?”
Mikhail brought the liteflyer down to fifty feet over the trees, coming in just inside the edge of the ridge, “This is your runway, if you will. At max gross weight, you can take off going downhill from the house and still clear the trees.”
Fargo got his first good look at the cabin and whistled, “Wow, this is much nicer than I expected! It looks like it’s been there for years!”
Mikhail grinned, “Well, you said Ranger cabin, you didn’t specify which one. There were enough funds for the upgraded version, and that’s what we got.” Mikhail circled the property, flying as close to the falls as he dared, then came in for a landing over a field of blue flowers, taxiing the liteflyer to the pad just outside the storage container next to the house.
Fargo stepped out of the liteflyer and inhaled the scent of pines and a sweetish smell of the flowers wafting on the light breeze. This is where I’ll die, God willing. He could dimly hear the waterfall in the distance, and marveled at the small rainbow visible in the bright sunlight. He did a slow walk around of the cabin, noting the sprayed brown plascrete walls, the green roof, and the porch extending across the front of the cabin. Going up the three steps, Fargo stopped and looked at Mikhail, sensing his apprehension.
Smiling Mikhail said, “Go ahead, it’s keyed to you.”
Fargo reached out tentatively and palmed the access panel, heard the door lock click, and opened the door. He stepped inside, and was amazed at how well decorated and finished the interior was. Walking slowly through the cabin, he saw the two bedrooms, the two freshers, and a small office with a desk, chair, and small e-tainment center. Coming back into the living room, he went through to the kitchen, seeing both an autochef and a real stove/oven/microwave combination. Shaking his head, he laughed out loud.
Looking around, he didn’t see Mikhail and went back to the front door, “Come in, come in.”
&
nbsp; Mikhail came up the steps, “I figured you wanted to see it by yourself first.”
Fargo laughed, “I know Luann had to have had a hand in selecting the kitchen. She got a stove put in, when I have no clue of how to actually use one.”
Mikhail rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that was all her. The autochef is stocked, and she made sure there was some coffee in there.”
Fargo punched up a coffee and looked questioningly at Mikhail, who nodded. While they waited, Mikhail said, “The other upgrades are that the living room loungers are conforming, and the bed in the master bedroom is conformal too. I took the liberty of putting you on as a TBT security employee, so your power and e-tainment are free. Also, you’ll have access to all the TBT comms and alerts.”
Fargo nodded, gingerly handing a coffee bulb to Mikhail, “Thanks. I do need to talk with you about what I can do to help out.” Walking into the living room, he sank into one of the lounges, sighing as it formed to his body. The e-tainment center on the far wall automatically came to life. He continued, “Looking at what was available on the ship and the newsies, it looks like you’ve got a good number of maintenance folks, but little to no security.”
Mikhail sighed, “That’s correct. GalPat is supposed to provide security when I request it, but the colonel down in White Beach usually has an excuse to not provide anybody. What I usually end up doing is hiring some of the off duty troopers and paying them under the table.”
“Politics? Or…”
“I’m not sure. Colonel Cameron, the nominal CO, doesn’t like his troops out of his control. Colonel Keads, his number two, is a good guy, though. Cameron and I have disagreed on placement of some of the subfeeders. He wanted them in, so called, easier to guard locations, and I wanted them in the best feed locations, which usually meant rugged or higher elevations. Since TBT has override, I usually got what I wanted.”
Fargo felt Mikhail’s anger building and chuckled, “Pissed you off, did he?”
Mikhail ducked his head, “Well, it might have had something to do with it. He and Governor Klynton wanted the first service, basic settlers be damned, even if the settlers needed the service more for sonic fences than basic lighting. I only put half the team on their work, and prioritized the areas needing sonics first.”
“And they found out?”
“Klynton had a hissy fit when she found out through one of her toadies that was out joy riding in one of the shuttles and saw lights and a feed line on the autopilot. Demanded I stop all other work until she got her service.”
“Lemme guess, you refused?” Fargo asked.
Mikhail faced him squarely, “Of course I did. That’s how we lost George and Celeste. Their homestead was up against the river, running off a hydro-generator while they waited for an installation. A pair of Silverbacks got inside the fence they had up, and got in the security door, killed them, and killed and ate most of the stock they’d penned up. George and Celeste were compartment mates coming out here.”
Fargo said, “I’m sorry. It’s never easy to lose someone you knew.”
Mikhail looked at Fargo, “How do you deal with it, I mean…”
Fargo shrugged, “I try to remember the good. At least now I won’t ever have to command troops in any kind of battle. I can’t lose anyone else. I’ve lost too many…”
Mikhail said, “Well, whenever you can, deal with Colonel Keads,” changing the subject, he said, “There is a small settlement of Ghorkas on Hunter. I’ve been thinking about contracting them for additional security, the ones that come down to Rushing River seem to be in shape and look and act like retired military. I’ve heard there are maybe two-three hundred of them back in the Green somewhere. Maybe you could look into that for me.”
Fargo nodded, “What time to do we need to be back?”
Mikhail checked his wrist comp, “We should probably leave now. Why don’t you fly the route back, and you can come back up here tomorrow and start settling in?”
***
Fargo gingerly piloted the liteflyer in for a landing on the strip at the cabin, taxied up to the storage building, and climbed slowly out. The first thing that struck him was the quiet. Only the winds sighing through the trees up slope from the house and an occasional birdsong heard. He inhaled deeply, smelling the nearpines and smiled. Home. This is where I wanted to be and now I’m here. Can’t ask for anything else as an old military man. Looking around, he quickly unloaded the liteflyer, stacking the boxes, trunks and bags by the front door.
Once he’d done that, he opened the storage building, reached in and reconfigured the liteflyer for storage. It automatically folded the wings and tail into a compact package, and he rolled it easily into the building, closing the door after it.
Stepping up on the porch, he took in the sweep of the field, and canyon beyond it, greens shading to blues, with the occasional red rock protruding from the far wall of the canyon. With a sigh, he opened the cabin door and carried the packages in to their respective places. Unpacking his trunks, he laughed out loud, “Not a lot of clothes, not a lot of anything to show for eighty plus years. Guess I better be glad I won’t be getting a lot of guests either.”
Taking the Winchester, 1911 and the Bowie knife from the bottom of the trunk, he lined them up on the mantle. I’ll treat them right Diez, and I’ll always take care of them for you. He unpacked the kitchen box last, taking out two pounds of real Earth coffee, a grinder, and an electric pot. Setting them up, he ground enough beans for one cup of coffee, loaded the pot, and waited until it had boiled.
Taking his one cup of coffee, he went out and sat on the front steps as darkness fell. Something yipped further up the canyon as the winds died, and he watched the stars come out. Unfamiliar patterns, but he had time to learn the constellations here and he knew he’d do that, just for self-protection, if nothing else.
Coffee finished, he got up slowly, walked back into the cabin and shut the door softly. After a 0quick trip through the fresher, he fell into bed, and a deep, dreamless sleep.
Home
Fargo fell into the habit of rising early, fixing a bulb of coffee, and sitting on the porch in a chair he’d fashioned from leftover parts in the storage area. He’d marked off a shooting range toward the waterfall, and started practicing weekly.
He’d gotten the 16mm rifle sighted in, and also had gotten used to the holosight on it, since it was a lot simpler than he was used to. So far, he’d killed one neardeer with it, and added the best cuts to the autochef. He still hadn’t attempted to use the stove or anything else after his fight with the fancy autochef over meals. Calories, basic recipe number and done was what he was used to, but no, not this autochef. It had so damn many selections it was driving him nuts, and to make it even worse, it didn’t recognize standard GalScout menu numbers.
The one thing he hadn’t overcome was the nightmares, not every night, but a couple of nights a week, they roiled his sleep. These were new ones, primarily revolving around his team. The worst one was Diez asking him why he’d let him die.
He’d done some minor maintenance on the storage area/ hangar for the liteflyer, and had taken to flying at least once a week, learning the area from the air. He’d gone back and read six months’ worth of TBT email and trouble calls, reviewed Mikhail’s files on TBT equipment locations and used the holo to familiarize himself with each feeder and subfeeder, along with the rough power requirements at all four of the existing terraformers and the subfeeders as well as how the power receptors and antennas worked on each building. He hadn’t realized that every building got the entire comm feed, and only picked off what was addressed to that particular e-tainment center.
He was amazed that Mikhail’s design covered the entire world from just those four locations. Equally amazing was the amount of power that was being consumed by White Beach. But considering it had almost one hundred thousand people in the immediate area, it was understandable.
Leaning back in his chair, Fargo expanded his empathic sense, while trying to block his ps
i sense. He thought he was finally getting the hang of it, but he did sense some low level activity, and something or somethings that might want to do harm, but he’d never sighted whatever it was.
At least twice a week, he walked the perimeter of his property, not only for the exercise, but to see if anything was moving across his land. He’d seen tracks that were probably a nearwolf, and a big one, some cat or predator tracks, and something with six legs and large paws that he thought might be a Silverback. That set of tracks, he’d only seen once.
The pool at the bottom of the falls was obviously a known watering hole for a number of species, and apparently some version of birds with claws. The field of blue flowers attracted some mutation of earth bees; they were almost as large as his thumb, and he gave them a wide birth.
Fargo checked the newsies on a daily basis, always looking for articles on the GalScouts and GalPat, along with articles on the worlds in the star cluster. He’d also continued to study the history of Hunter itself, getting smart on the world he was now calling home.
Evenings were taken up with e-tainment chats with Mikhail and Luann, so he was kept up to speed on what was happening in Rushing River, and the antics of Ian and Inga.
Fargo was usually in bed by 2100, and generally dropped off to sleep quickly. This night was different. He was awakened after midnight by barking, yowling and huffing. As he came awake, he let his empathic sense expand; he felt anger, pain, fear and determination, and an overpowering desire to kill.
That brought Fargo fully awake, and without thinking, he dressed, pulled his pistol belt on, grabbed his go bag, and took the 16mm Keel rifle down from the rack. Cautiously opening the door, his senses told him the fight was moving toward the waterfall.
Reaching back in the house, he picked up his NVG goggles and slipped them on. Easing to the corner of the house, he didn’t see anything moving close to him, so he carefully started up the dim trail toward the waterfall. As he got closer, the same feelings were still there, if not stronger.