Multiverse 2

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Multiverse 2 Page 26

by Chris Hechtl


  “As far as Dwayne is concerned …,” she sighed. “He's got a high fever. That's a sign of infection, and of course body insult. Possibly internal injuries, though I can't tell for sure without opening him up.”

  Ginger wasn't the only one to suck in her breath in concern. “The sulfur looks like it's helping,” Florence went on, shooting the former stewardess a quelling look. “And so are the cold compresses so keep them coming. Boil the water and then let it cool. That is a big help. Keep it up,” she urged.

  “Will do, Doc,” Jim said.

  Doc went over to the other injured and checked on them. Each were okay, though sore. She reported that a couple of them had light fevers, though it might have been from the workload or being too close to the fire. She urged them to rest. She also told them to leave any open wounds open. “Let the flies land,” she said.

  Jim grimaced. “I know you say that, Doc, but ….”

  “I know. The maggots are sickening, but they are eating the dead tissue. They are keeping gangrene at bay. Keep the wounds irrigated with clean water,” she said. She looked around hoping they took the hint. Bret and the others nodded.

  “Now get some rest. All of you. Tomorrow is a new day,” she said to them as she got up wearily.

  ----------

  Bret spent two more days hunting, gathering, and helping around base. Then it rained. He felt concern; he knew the others he'd left behind at the valley cabin would be worried. When he washed up in a nearby stream, he had a close call with a cougar. He used a club and some thrown rocks to drive the animal off.

  When he got back to camp, he warned the others that the blood on their clothes was attracting predators. “We need to work on that,” he said. He told them what had happened. The girls were frightened, even more terrorized then before. He sighed. They'd just started to settle down. A little caution was good; in the bush you had to have your head on a swivel. But too much caution would freeze you, which was just as bad.

  “You should also stay in pairs as much as possible outside the camp,” he stated. A few people nodded instantly. “One on watch, the other doing whatever or a group working and one person on watch, whatever works. Rotate the watch to keep someone rested,” he stated. Again he got a round of nods.

  On the fifth day he, Seth, and Miguel guarded the women and able-bodied men as they made a harvest of the cotton and fruit in the area. They carried their harvest back in woven baskets, always looking over their shoulders warily.

  “Last day,” Bret told Miguel once they entered camp in the late afternoon. Doc came out tired before Miguel could respond. They looked expectantly at her; from her expression it didn't look good. She waved off their concern.

  “He's fine,” she told them, stretching and rubbing the small of her back. “Fine. Sleeping. The fever broke in the night. He's been eating and drinking normally. And his bowels work so …,” she shrugged, “I think he's going to pull through.”

  There were smiles all around the camp at that good news. Miguel sighed in relief. “That's good, Doc,” Bret told her.

  “You're going back tomorrow?” she asked, turning expectantly to him. The others looked concerned. He nodded. “I need to get back. I don't want them to come looking and run into trouble. I may have to take a different route since the shore of the lake is a bit crowded with bears,” he explained and then grimaced. She shivered but didn't offer to stop him.

  He felt a little sad that no one asked him to stay. Not that he would he thought. Or was it out of respect? He wasn't sure.

  ----------

  The next morning he rose early before dawn and got ready to go back. He was surprised and slightly put out to find that Pamila Fruitkin, the girlfriend of Wayne, had decided to come with him. Apparently like Jenise she didn't want to be reminded of where her mate had died. He was not happy about the tagalong but put up with it.

  “I know a thing or two about birth,” the forty-year-old told him, “so I'll carry my weight just fine,” she said.

  “Oh?” he asked.

  “I helped when my sister gave birth naturally.”

  “Ah,” he said with a nod. That was a relief. There was no way Doc would be able to make a house call now. Nor could he expect her during the winter to come.

  The net flies were terrible. In the cave the smoke kept the mosquito at bay during the night. The same for the net flies. But outside was a different story. The morning sky was filled with them and other bugs. “It's the migration,” Helen said.

  “Yeah,” Bret said.

  “Thanks for coming and all you did,” she said, hugging him. He smiled and hugged her back.

  “No problem,” he murmured. “But we'd better get moving,” he said. She nodded and let him go. Jim and Miguel nodded to him.

  “Don't be a stranger, compadre,” Miguel said.

  “Definitely,” Jim said, shaking his hand. Tobias did as well, but with his good hand. Seth gave him a salute. Bret snorted. He looked about at the sound of the birds and other animals hunting. “They are having a field day,” Jim said, looking around.

  “Better take advantage of it while you can. It won't last long,” Bret warned. “And work on some bear defenses. This cave is prime real estate,” he warned. They all nodded soberly.

  ----------

  Along the way home, they saw fish jumping out of lake to catch caddice bugs. The bears were all over the place, along the shore, the streams, and even in the water swimming about.

  “It'd be nice to have a canoe right about now with them around,” Bret said.

  “Can we maybe hurry it up,” the girl urged. He looked back at her, snorted, and then picked up the pace a bit.

  Pamila caught a rabbit by accident. She startled it and then excitedly caught it when its head got caught in a root. Bret smiled in approval to her and helped her pull the rabbit out of its trap and then tucked it into a sack Sarah had given him. Pamila was annoyed when it started chewing on the grass mats inside and pooping all over the place. He cautioned her to keep the sack closed. “You so don't want that thing popping out like a jack in the box. Trust me,” he warned. She nodded.

  “They have vicious claws,” he said.

  “They are cute,” the woman said. He rolled his eyes.

  Bill and the ladies were glad to see him return when they wearily got back to the camp. Hayden couldn't rush into his arms in her state but she did her best to waddle, which made him concerned enough about a potential fall to pick up his pace into a jog. She hugged him tightly and then kissed him. “I missed you too,” he murmured.

  She poked him. “You'd better,” she growled at him. He laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She groaned greedily. “You have a lot of massages to catch up on, buster. But first the news.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” he chuckled.

  ----------

  A month later Bret and Bill just happened to have gone down cautiously to the shoreline meeting sight, more on a whim than anything else. They had been out hunting when he'd detoured. Bill had silently humored him. Both men were pleased to find Dwayne and a few of the others there waiting patiently for them. He nodded as he came down the hill to see them. Dwayne was on a crude set of crutches.

  “About time,” Jim accused.

  “We didn't know you were here,” Bill said with a shake of his head.

  “Thank you,” Dwayne said, taking Bret's hand when they got close. “I mean it. I heard we have you to thank for the new bearskin rug.”

  Bret shrugged as he shook the other man's hand. Dwayne had lost a lot of weight, but he still had all his fingers and toes and all his senses. He had a lot of scars, but it looked like he was well on the road to recovery. “Hey, waste not, want not. You'll need it when the cold and the snows hit.”

  “It's already getting cold. How much longer?” Dwayne asked, looking about them.

  “Well, I figure it's mid-September, maybe early October or the equivalent right now, which means, a month or two. Then again …,” he pointed to the two moons i
n the sky. They look up and then nodded. After a moment the group turned to look expectantly back to him.

  Bill went back with Dwayne's group. Sarah went back with Bret.

  ----------

  “Great, a regular harem,” he muttered when he saw the girls going at it back in the camp.

  “What was that?” Hayden demanded, coming over to him. She placed her hands on her hips.

  “Nothing, dear,” he said, turning away. She slapped his ass. He turned and mock growled. She giggled. He chased her and caught her. “No fair!” she mocks, leaning back. “I'm fat!”

  “Yes you are,” he grinned at her. She rolled her eyes as he rubbed her tummy. He leaned down and kissed her, then knelt and kissed her swollen belly. “Better?” he asked mockingly as he looked up.

  “Maybe,” she purred in approval. She ran a hand through his hair. “You need another haircut,” she murmured, always the practical one. He snorted.

  He stood and gently let her go. When he did and his back was turned again, she smacked his ass again and scampered off with a leer and a laugh. He growled but the giggles from the other nearby ladies watching their antics made him stop going after her.

  “You'll get yours later, lady,” he mock growled. She turned and stuck her tongue out at him. The ladies tittered. His heart soured. “Or now if you prefer,” he growled, eyes gleaming as his hands curled into claws.

  “Bret, don't you dare!” she gasped. He slowly stalked her as she laughingly tried to get away.

  ----------

  In what he thought was late November, they had their third and most likely final harvest of the year.

  The main cabin was finished. He was thinking of it more as a castle than a cabin more and more. In a way it was. The outer wall was the curtain wall, the inside area the bailey, and the main cabin the keep. He'd have to look into maybe adding more stones or something later.

  He had designed the structure to be expanded next year. For now they focused on interior. There were four women with him now. They still ate outside because the cabin was dank and dark at night. It lacked proper windows, it only had window slits. For the moment all he had were shutters and pieces of hide for curtains.

  The loft was unused, at least by him and Hayden. He didn't want to chance her on the rickety ladder he'd rigged to get up there. She had reluctantly agreed, so they slept on the ground floor near the fire while the trio of women slept up in the loft or out in one of the other buildings if it was a nice night.

  Since he was concerned about the baby, he stuck around the cabin more and more. They did what they could to process the food they had gathered and store the seeds for the spring. They stored everything in the basement of the cabin, in the rafters, or in the low barn basement on top of the rock there.

  He had also stockpiled choice pieces of wood for projects during the long winter months he was kept at home. When he got in Hayden's hair, she sicced him on building furniture for both indoors and out. “You're hovering. Do it somewhere else,” she scolded.

  It wasn't as easy as he'd thought he found. Eventually he had a few pieces, but he was the only one who could sit in them for long, even with the leather covered seat cushions Pamila and Sarah had made. He did, however, get a chance to add a sloped covered porch over the front door and a raised rock pathway from the door to various buildings around the area.

  When it got cold, the women moved in with them permanently. The ladies spent time making clothes and bedding for the baby out of their limited supply of cotton, wool, and leather. Some of the excess furniture he had made, he broke down into easy packages and planned to trade to the main group the next time they came calling.

  When the girls complained about drafts, he went around with mud and plaster to patch holes. He had to warm it by the fire; it was too cold out for it to stay soft for long. When he was finished, they found that the cabin was very dark with the door and shutters closed.

  He used the fireplace to light it, but it still wasn't enough. During the day the girls tried to stay outside and busy. Bret spent a lot of time hunting or cutting wood.

  When the baby came, Pamila chased him out of the house to boil water. He was frantic with worry but aware of what she was doing. He spent time pacing before she called him in to help with the delivery. He ended up propping Hayden up and blotting at her face with a cloth while giving her his loving support as she pushed when Pamila called for her to do so. Their little girl arrived into the world near midnight when both parents were worn to the nub with exhaustion. Her angry cries and the girl's coos made Bret grin.

  They got Hayden comfortable, then settled in for the night. Their darling daughter nursed from her mom, occasionally making nap sounds and sucking at her. It was so adorable.

  He went outside that morning to see a light dusting of snow on the ground. It was bitterly cold; most likely what he was seeing was frost he thought. He stretched and looked about him. Aliens, humans, whatever was pulling the strings behind their back, he hoped that they were watching. He felt like he was on top of the world, not a prisoner. Not some rat in a maze. A man, fully, he thought.

  He realized that they were going to be all right. That whatever the future brought, they'd handle it. It was good to be alive. Survivors, all.

  ----------

  “I've said it once, I'll say it again. The mind is a powerful flexible thing.”

  “Yes, you have said that before, Warren. Let's try to focus here.”

  “I am focusing. But I can admire as well. This is incredible. The achievements over the past nine months.”

  “Nine months for them. More like ten since the project started. Now, you wanted to discuss this new development?”

  “Yes, the baby ….”

  “I think we have enough processing power in reserve to handle the addition now that two of the subjects have expired.”

  “Not what I meant.”

  “Memory?”

  “I am concerned about memory processing, but right now I am not looking at it from a hardware perspective at all.”

  “Then what, Warren? I don't have all day, honestly. We've got that meeting in an hour with the backers of the project. Remember that? Don't tell me you wish to terminate the project! I mean, yes, it is a bit unethical to use brain matter without consult, but we've been over this. They didn't technically donate their organs but they are deceased. Or at least legally they are.”

  “They died in the plane crash; yes, I know. And yes, I know we copied their brains neuron by neuron and uploaded them into our network and let it assemble their neural network. To have done it with any complex organism is incredible.”

  “I know. I believe the competition is still attempting to replicate the neural networks of a nematode in software as well as hardware. They are decades behind us.”

  “Yes, I know all that. I have attended the in-briefs. And I made many of the achievements to get us to this level.”

  “As did I,” Doctor Norton stated flatly.

  “I too, don't forget that,” Doctor Eckhert said with a nasty bite in her voice.

  “And don't forget the staff. This has been a team effort, Warren. Don't ever forget that,” Doctor Norton stated. “We had made great progress mapping and building off of the lower order of animals for some time. Taking it to primates was yes, your suggestion. This though ….”

  “The opportunity literally fell in our lap.”

  “Yes but it is risky. That is what is making the corporate suits nervous.”

  “We're off the grid. And we're off shore, technically not in any country. They can't touch us.”

  “Politically or criminally, it is debatable. You'd have to consult legal on that. But in the court of public opinion?”

  “Bah! What do they know?”

  “They may be sheep, but sheep that could turn into a mob with clubs and torches. It could set the work back by years or kill it totally if mishandled. I still regret that we couldn't get the volunteers to work.”

  “True,” Doctor
Eckhert stated.

  “All right, so I didn't need to state the obvious. The volunteers weren't working. Yes, they were terminally ill, but they knew it. These people didn't know they were about to die. It was sudden.”

  “Well, we did have to wipe some of their short-term memory,” Doctor Eckhert stated.

  “Yes. But we attempted to create the environment, to direct it into some sort of vision of utopia that they all shared. Something to gain comfort from. But that didn't happen here.”

  “No, which is fascinating in its own right. They expected work. They didn't expect a utopia. We discussed such things but ….”

  “Let us keep the religious aspects out of the work, shall we? As I was saying, they didn't focus on a utopia. Or not as we expected. This isn't a white plastic world; it is dynamic. A fully realized world.”

  “One that has nearly crashed several times.”

  “Yes, Warren, your saves have been very helpful as were the others. Getting corporate to get us the extra hardware was vital.”

  “I'd say impossible for the project to function without it, myself,” Warren said, quite pleased with himself.

  Doctor Eckhert cleared her throat. “All right, moving on … the decision to allow the subjects to create their own world … I didn't expect two of the subjects to dominate the design however.”

  “We had to select the best candidates. And we didn't want them to think they had landed in the ocean; that would have terminated the project quickly.”

  “Yes, they would have expected to die and therefore would have. You've said that.”

  “Indeed.”

  “But we had planned to create more than one version. This is not enough to validate the project since it is one simulation. We had intended to make a copy of their neural nets and run them in individual simulations or several simulations.”

  “With several groups, yes, I know,” Doctor Norton replied testily. “But things change. They have adapted beyond our expectations.”

 

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