"Why not?" Ed asked. "If they are essentially walking computers that are connected somehow to your computer and to each other, shouldn't it be possible to hack your way into them?"
"Maybe in theory," said Frank. "But you can't readily hack into a system that you know nothing about. Their system architectures and communication protocols are totally unknown to us, and those dudes have probably been studying ours for years or maybe decades."
"Well we certainly don't have decades," said Doc. "At this rate they're going to deplete nearby forests and woodpiles within a few days. At that point yummy people and lodges might look more tempting to them."
"I worry that we have not shown them any of our strength," said Ed. "They might get over-confident. In human history there have been many instances when appeasement of potential adversaries has resulted in total capitulation or in unwanted conflict."
"And we still don't know what they know or don't know." added Doc. "They could greatly underestimate human military strength, if all they see is a few armed Mohawk tribesmen. A mere couple thousand actual military men with flame-throwers could probably stop them all in their tracks, and they could then easily be blown to bits using high explosives, or whatever. The military would gather the bits of them that are left and study them in top-secret labs to learn how they control minerals and so-forth."
"Do they appreciate what a terrific break the Tribe is giving them?" Ed wondered. "They could have been greeted by the US Army instead of the Tribe, and been blown to bits."
"Don't attribute such complex emotions to them," said Doc. "Something like 'appreciation' may be beyond them."
"Good point," said Talking Owl. "We sense only vague feelings from them and computer-like logic, and nothing in-between. They may not even be aware themselves of their own feelings, or they may think that those are insignificant. It must have been very difficult for them to learn to communicate with us."
"Or to figure out what an emotion tainted word like 'difficult' means," said Doc. "But neglecting emotions, what do they understand of the physical conditions they will face over the next centuries? Do they understand that climate change towards coldness is very local and according to models is likely to be relatively ephemeral? It won't last long enough here to form glaciers, and there probably won't be a solid return to widespread global glaciation for tens of thousands of years."
"Perhaps we should educate them," said Ed.
"That would have to be via our computer link with them," said Doc. "I've shouted things at them as they walk by and they completely ignore me. I suspect that they may be deaf, at least as far as sound carried in the air is concerned. That might make sense for beings that live mostly inside of rock and communicate electronically."
"They are deaf also to our more coherent psychic thoughts," noted Talking Owl. "Turtle Man would have appreciated the irony. For centuries we Mohawk have sought to better communicate with them psychically when they are actually deaf to our cogent telepathic thoughts."
"The Tribe should have sought out computer nerds like Frank instead of telepathic folks like me," said Ed.
"I have software on my computer that converts voices to digitized words," said Frank. "That could improve our communications with them."
"Turn it on and let's try it," said Talking Owl.
"Ha!" Frank exclaimed. "I see that it's already turned on! But I didn't turn it on!"
The team exchanged nervous glances.
"Crap!" Ed exclaimed. "The Stone-Coats turned it on! Does that mean what I think it means?"
"They may have already been eavesdropping on our verbal conversations here in the lab!" said Doc.
"Or maybe anywhere we have an activated computer with an internal transceiver that acts as a microphone," added Frank.
"That could be a good thing," said Ed. "The better they understand us, the better chance we have to work with them."
"Spoken like a wide-eyed, naive, the-cup-is-half-full liberal that doesn't believe in evil, but you could be right," said Doc.
"How do we know if they're listening to us?" Talking Owl wondered.
"Let's ask them!" said Doc. "Stone-Coats, please indicate on the screen if you can hear and understand our spoken words."
"WE HEAR YOU," came the immediate reply on the laptop screen.
"Do you understand us?" asked Ed.
"MUCH WE UNDERSTAND; SOME WE DO NOT."
"This is monumental! We should have all of the Tribe leadership here to help us talk with them," said Ed.
"And the clever Mohican too," said Doc. "I hope he gets back here very soon. In the meantime let's entertain them with some Global Warming basics."
****
CHAPTER XV
Peace Maker
John Running Bear searched the tent one more time, but still couldn't find his cryptographic NSA satellite radio phone. Someone had to have taken it. Who and why? If he didn't contact Sheffield soon, the standard NSA protocol would be to send another agent to his last reported position. Even if they only got as close as the front gate, unusual activity could be detected. As far away as the town of Giants' Rest the ponderous Stone-Coat activities could be clearly heard, and possibly by using high powered binoculars the huge creatures could even be seen moving about on the distant Mountain.
If agents got actually onto the Reservation it would be worse. Here at his last reported position, the site where Hairless Bear woke, dozens of monstrous Stone-Coats were busily clearing away the last of the forests. Hundred foot Stone-Coats were chewing down trees and dragging them away. What would another NSA agent make of such a sight? Would they call up the National Guard or other armed forces? Yes; they surely would! The Reservation would be quarantined and commandeered in the name of national security. It would be the end of the Tribe.
He had to get to an internet connection soon and use his back-up communications approach. The computers in the Great Lodge could be used in privacy. Dodging through foraging Stone-Coats he made his way quickly to the Great Lodge, where he was surprised to find Mouse wandering from room to room, poking around and looking for something under rugs and beds.
"There are Jants here someplace, I can sense them," she told him. "They shelter in our lodges and remain active in the warmth that we provide them. They are even in the lab! They are not with us in great numbers and mostly they stay out of sight and are telepathically quiet to avoid detection while they merely listen to our thoughts, but occasionally they jabber among themselves and to their colonies."
"What will you do if you find them, Old Mother? Are we not already busy enough dealing with the Stone-Coats?"
The little woman shrugged. "I wish to confront them mind-to-mind but you are right; I have better things to do right now. Why are you here?"
"Someone stole my NSA phone. I need the internet."
"Could your phone be operated by anyone? No passwords or anything required? And did it contain the phone number of your NSA boss, Mark Sheffield?"
"You know that what you ask is all true, Old Mother. I hate passwords. I hate computers and technology altogether and use only what I must use."
"I like you more and more, Running Bear. I fear that Singing Moon may have called the NSA and they might be on their way here now. No, I see by your thoughts that they may already be here! But perhaps not?"
"Perhaps. I urgently need access to a computer or smart-phone with internet, Old Mother."
"Certainly." She quickly led him to a nearby room in the lodge that had a desk and computer. The computer was an old desk-top model with an ancient CRT display. "This is the computer of Red Hawk, your friend in the Guard. Fortunately, like you he is mildly telepathic, so I know his password." She turned on the computer and entered the password before inviting John to sit at the desk. "It has been a cloudy day. You have maybe ten to fifteen minutes of battery power, John."
"You might as well stay here and listen in on our conversation, Old Mother," Running Bear told her, when she started to leave the room. "That will be easier for you.
You will of course be monitoring my thoughts anyway." He pulled a chair closer to the desk and gestured her into it.
"Of course, John; thank you."
John attached a thumb-drive sized device to the computer and in a few minutes was rewarded by the voice of Mark Sheffield, loud enough for both he and Old Mother to hear. "I was becoming concerned, Running Bear."
"My satellite phone was stolen by someone. I suspect a woman named Singing Moon." He turned off the CRT display to conserve power.
"Yes; she had me meet her late yesterday at a diner located just off the Reservation," confirmed Sheffield. "She said that you sent her to me. Is that true?"
"No. It is unlikely that she told you very much that is true. I apologize for the inconvenience, Sir. She is a disturbed woman."
"She said that you and the Mohawk are being attacked by stone giants. Is that part true?"
"Certainly not. There was a disturbance on the Reservation, but it was largely of her own making."
"That's what I thought. She wanted the Army to be sent in to destroy stone giants."
"A ridiculous notion! I hope that you ignored her, Sir. There is some nasty politics and mental instability going on here at the Reservation, but nothing that can't be handled internally to the Tribe."
"I humored her and left her with the impression that I was sending in the Army, but of course I needed conformation from you or someone else NSA before doing that anyway."
"This is an off-the-grid internal Native American affair, Sir. If the Army is ever truly needed for national security reasons you'll of course hear from me directly."
"Good. Still no sign of Green?"
"None. I am certain now that he is not on the Reservation and feel it highly unlikely that the Rumsfelds know where he is. I'd like to stay a few more days here to confirm that, get my phone back, and help wrap up the Singing Moon mess, if I can."
"Yes, definitely do that, Running Bear, but I'm afraid there is a serious complication. She or someone with her stole a hundred pounds of high explosive devices from the trunk of my car while I was in the diner. I had them because she told me that you requested them when she first contacted me, but her story didn't ring true after talking with her further."
"That's a very big complication, Sir."
"It's in the form of a dozen packages with timers; enough explosives to blow up half of Giants' Rest."
"MX-5 devices?"
"Yes. Do you think she will confine use of the explosives to the Reservation, Running Bear?"
"Definitely. I will see to it that they are retrieved and their origin is guarded."
"Excellent! I look forward to receiving conformation of that from you very soon. Should I send in more men to help?"
"No Sir; I can better handle things here myself under the radar, with Tribe help and without further NSA involvement."
"I was hoping you'd say that," said Sheffield. "Keep in touch."
Mouse turned the computer off. "Tribespeople without any telepathic skills have always been my biggest worry. I can't read their thoughts."
"You can't sense Singing Moon's thoughts?"
"Not telepathically or any other way.
"Many folks get along pretty good without telepathically reading the thoughts of others. I decided to trust in you, Old Mother, and to tolerate your intrusions into my thoughts, honest Indian that I am. I am sure that many others of your Tribe also do so. But maybe it's even harder to be distrusted. Maybe it's harder to not meet the expectations of your tribe and mother."
He was talking about himself and his own guilt, she knew, as well as Singing Moon. "Don't make excuses for her; with strength of character such difficulties can and should be overcome. I fear for her, Running Bear, and I fear for us all. Sky-Holder protect us! She has explosives!"
Running Bear was disturbed to see a tear run down the old woman's cheek. She was the Tribe leader that more than anyone else kept the Tribe together.
"You have very weak telepathic skills, Running Bear, enough for me to read some of your thoughts but not enough for you to even notice me intruding. However you have other great skills that I apparently lack. For example I noticed that everything you told Sheffield was truthful, but you were able to hold back crucial facts and steer things completely your way. You seem to be able to size up people and their thoughts very well, Running Bear, even without telepathy. Help us, Running Bear, if you can. And help save her!"
"I will try to stop her from using the explosives, Old Mother.'
A gigantic explosion shook the air, ground and Lodge. Books and dishes tumbled from shelves to the carpeted floor. As dreadful as the sound was, it was not as disturbing as the mournful cry from Mouse that followed, and the look of horror on her old wrinkled face. A cascade of what sounded like giant hailstones struck the Lodge; several rocks of football size crashed through the thick bark layers and dropped to the rug-covered Lodge floor after opening gaps to a grey clouded sky.
Old Mouse made to rise from her chair but fell back down again quietly sobbing. She suddenly seemed shockingly old, frail, and helpless.
"Stay here and rest, Old Mother," implored Running Bear, as he grasped one of her small hands in his. "Follow my thoughts, and I will be your eyes and ears and strength."
Running Bear put on the coat he carried as he ran towards the Great Dome, which had the nearest outside exit. He fumbled clumsily with the coat buttons though, and his legs seemed strangely heavy and far too slow. What the hells had Singing Moon done? The woman seemed to hate everything and everyone, including even her own mother and daughter! By the Gods, what if she blew up the lab? That's where he had left Talking Owl!
In the big domed room Running Bear encountered a dozen children huddled with two women, all of them confused and frightened. "Are the Stone-Coats coming, Mohican?" one of the women asked him.
"I don't know," he replied. "Old Mother is alone in the lodging place of Red Hawk. She is badly shaken up; please go to her and keep her safe. There may soon be other explosions and war with the Stone-Coats."
Bursting out through the main Dome entranceway, the Mohican was relieved to see that on the opposite side of the amphitheater the lab stood undamaged. Using his binoculars, he was even more relieved to see Talking Owl standing among the team that had come out of the lab to see what was happening.
On the rim of the amphitheater that the Stone-Coats used as their key pathway up the Mountain was a great smoking gap: a twenty-foot across crater had been blasted deep into rock by NSA explosives, blocking the rim-top pathway that the Stone-Coats had been using. As Running Bear dashed towards Talking Owl several nearby Stone-Coats put down the trees that they carried, walked to the smoking crater, and inspected it.
Red Hawk and two of his men reached Talking Owl and the others near the lab at the same moment that Running Bear did. "It was Singing Moon!" he exclaimed, "and her nephew Big Otter was driving the snowmobile they rode in. They dropped a small package on the Stone-Coat path and fled by snowmobile. After only half a minute or so the package blew up before we could get to it, blasting one Stone-Coat to bits. Where did she get such powerful explosives?"
"She stole my NSA radio and went off the Reservation to get explosives from the NSA," said Running Bear. "Nobody else was hurt?"
"Only the one Stone-Coat. It was one of the big ones; Hairless-Bear or one like it. There are chunks of Stone-Coat scattered all around the crater."
"Look! The others gather up pieces of it!" exclaimed one of Red Hawk's men. Sure enough, a dozen Stone-Coats of various sizes ringed the still smoking crater and were busily gathering glimmering rocks that had to be the remains of the ill-fated Stone-Coat. They stacked them together in the amphitheater near the crater, tons of shattered Stone-Coat chunks. Then strangely enough, they laid several big tree branches over the pile of Stone-Coat remains. A Stone-Coat that carried an old pickup truck under one arm placed it atop the pile.
"That's a wreck from our local landfill," noted Red Hawk.
"They've gott
en their first taste of scrap and seem to like it," said Running Bear. "They probably have difficulty computing that we blow them up at the same time we feed them."
Meanwhile Stone-Coat movement up and down the path stopped. A dozen of them dragging great trees and carrying landfill scrap stood in line on the path below the amphitheater, and another dozen empty-handed giants stood waiting up-hill of the crater.
"Their path to the Mountain is blocked. They're trying to figure out their next move," Ed conjectured. "I can sense a great deal of chatter between them. I don't like the way they are looking at the Great Lodge. An alternative pathway through the Great Lodge to the Mountain would be convenient for them."
"I don't quite buy that," said Running Bear. "For creatures that can climb the Mountain carrying trees, that crater is a mere bump in the road. They could easily walk around or through the crater. No, they're figuring out what to do about the humans that just blew up a Stone-Coat."
"I don't think I want to be anywhere near here once they figure out how to get back at us!" said Doc. "They're computers so I don't understand why it's taking them so long to decide on a response. Maybe the fact that they're getting our scrap metal now is helping. In any case we can take advantage of their delay. I'll get back to Frank and the Claw in the lab and over the link we'll try to argue for peace. "
As Doc returned to the lab the sound of an approaching snowmobile diverted the attentions of Ed, Talking Owl, and Running Bear. It was Singing Moon, riding in back of her nephew Big Otter on the missing snowmobile. They stopped midway between the gathered Stone-Coats and the gathered on-looking humans and turned off the noisy machine. As Singing Moon stood up on the snowmobile and faced the gathered Stone-Coats, Big Otter grabbed something football-sized from a box that was tied to the back of the snowmobile. It was a pack of NSA explosives, John realized! It was awkwardly heavy, about eight pounds, but Big Otter was strong enough to lob it at either the gathered Stone-Coats or humans.
Ice Giants Wake! Page 17