ARMS Beckland's Fall: (Book 5)

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ARMS Beckland's Fall: (Book 5) Page 10

by Stephen Arseneault


  "We aren't farmers and we aren't fishers."

  Tawn chuckled. "Yeah, well, we aren't shipbuilders or scientists or any other number of job titles we've had to assume to survive. Hasn't stopped us yet."

  "And it won't stop us now."

  Tawn reached over, briefly grabbing Harris' arm as they jogged. "Hey, what if we assigned a bot to do that? Alex has loads of history on both fishing and farming. All he would have to do is load a bot with those memories and cut them loose. Or a dozen of them for that matter. We wouldn't have to farm jack."

  Harris looked off in the distance in thought. "Now that's an idea I actually like. When we get back, we'll quiz Alex about what it would take to get that going."

  Tawn shook her head as she lifted her arm to enable a comm. "Why wait?"

  Seconds later, Alex's voice came over the comm. "Tawn, Harris, how may I be of assistance?"

  Tawn said, "We're getting near the end of our food supplies. What kind of effort would it take for you to program one of those bots to start farming and fishing for us? And if that's possible, how long before they were producing enough food to feed everyone here?"

  "The reprogramming would of course happen in seconds. As to the farming, do we have sprouts or seeds? Could we obtain sprouts or seeds? Either is a requirement for growing our own food. As to the fishing, have we determined if there are adequate fish stocks to be obtained? One moment... it would seem the oceans surrounding this island have the tiniest of microbes swimming in them. Perhaps they could be harvested."

  Harris scowled. "No thanks. I have no interest in eating microbes. And I think I know where we can get our sprouts, and maybe even some cows, pigs, or bogler. Maybe even a few chickens."

  "Where's that?" asked Tawn.

  "Jebwa. There are hundreds of small farms out there. And livestock, so long as it has survived. And there's no one there to lay claim to it anymore, so it's not like we're stealing it."

  Tawn nodded. "Not bad, Harris. Heck, we might even be able to do our farming there and just send a bot or two out to tend it and then harvest."

  "Not doing that. We can't leave these bots anywhere where someone can grab them. And those crops would be vulnerable to an attack. I think whatever it is we grow we need to grow it here."

  "Makes sense. Hmm, look at you this morning. You're just on fire with the ideas right now."

  "Yeah, well, somebody has to lead this group of misfits. Might as well be the head misfit." Harris sprinted ahead. "And the fastest misfit."

  "Not fair!"

  The Biomarines slowed as they came back into camp sucking wind.

  Harris leaned over, placing his hands just above his knees as he pulled in deep breaths. "I win. Sixteen thirty-six. My best time yet."

  Tawn placed her hands on her hips as she drew in replacement oxygen. "Sixteen forty-eight. Nice hustle. That's my first time below seventeen minutes in years."

  "Maybe it's time we started pushing each other to do more. Not that I see much hand-to-hand in our future, but who knows, we've been on several of those Denzee ships already."

  "If the rumored sighting of a new, bigger ship are true, we might have to go it again just for that."

  Harris chuckled. "At least the ground pounding days are over. Can't say I would relish being dumped planet-side again, even to fight those little fur-covered rodents. At least on a ship the environment isn't hostile too."

  Gandy approached. "You coming in to see the milling? Really kind of cool."

  Tawn nodded. "We'll be right in. Everything looking OK?"

  "Perfect. Alex says all indications are this will be a success."

  Harris smiled. "You may get that Banshee fleet you were wanting, Mr. Boleman. Have you been keeping up with your strategy and tactics lessons?"

  "Two hours per day, just before going to sleep. I'm about a third of the way through a basics course Alex set up for me."

  "And?"

  "It's enlightening. So many things I would have never thought of. You were right, we weren't prepared to be out there. I was eager to go before, now I'm kind of scared."

  Harris nodded. "Good. With more learning and some experience, we can turn some of that fear into confidence. That's when you become a danger to the enemy and an asset to those you're fighting alongside. How's your sister doing with it?"

  "She gave up. Said she wasn't learning anything. Sharvie, on the other hand, I was expecting her to flop. She's too timid. But for whatever reason, she's plowing through it. I think she's a few lessons ahead of me now. Will she retain it or be able to apply it later? Who knows."

  — Chapter 11 —

  * * *

  The milling equipment stopped. Five minutes later, the bots servicing the hull had it cleaned and polished. Following just behind, the component installs began. A new core processing unit was the first to be bonded into place. A power unit was moved in next, welded, connected and sealed.

  An hour into the install the drive unit was being pushed in from the back of the hull.

  "They make it look easy, don't they?" said Harris.

  Gandy nodded. "Every move is calculated and precise. We'd be bumping that unit around and get all frustrated trying to perfectly align it. Those bots... it's just whoosh and it's in there."

  An image of Alex appeared on the wall in the room several minutes later. "The component assembly is complete. We have several minutes of alignment testing to enact, followed by powering up the reactor."

  Trish asked, "How long can it fly before needing a refuel?"

  "Continuous flight can be maintained for sixteen days. Jump fuel can accommodate twenty-two full portal openings. Our supply of each fuel here at Midelon is limited, but substantial for the number of craft we can field."

  Harris crossed his arms. "What if we reach our goal of a hundred Banshees?"

  "Our needs will have obviously changed, Harris. Presuming a need for continuous fight, our jump fuel reserves would be depleted in ninety-six days. However, that scenario is highly unlikely."

  "And the standard fuel?"

  "One hundred sixteen days. Again, following a worst case scenario."

  "Can we make more of each?"

  "The standard fuel, yes. The raw material, water, is readily available here on Midelon. Electrolysis would be the preferred method. It's a simple process to extract and store the hydrogen we would require. For the jump fuel, no. We do not have the refining equipment needed, nor do we have the knowledge in the archives of how to construct such equipment. For whatever reason, that data was heavily redacted from the archives."

  Trish said, "I can tell you why. The company that makes that fuel has the market cornered. No competitors. Rumor is they had the archives modified just for that purpose. More payoffs to politicians if you ask me."

  Tawn replied, "Sounds like we need to get our hands on a few more tankers of that stuff. Harris, you think they had any stored at Jebwa?"

  "I guess we'll find out. For the rest of you, we've decided we need to start growing and raising our own food. We'll also be heading to Jebwa to see what we can salvage for doing that. Seed or seedlings, livestock, equipment, whatever we can salvage."

  Trish frowned. "We don't own that."

  "Nobody owns it. That's why it's salvage. And either we take it or someone else will. Or it just goes to waste."

  Tawn chuckled. "Hope we don't have to fight those feral cats over it."

  "So long as the power is still running, those cats should be off doing their own thing."

  "When you want to head out there?"

  Harris looked over at the newly-constructed Banshee. "Let's see this thing fly. If it checks out, you and I will make a run over to see what's there."

  "Sounds like a plan."

  Twenty minutes later the ground testing of the new craft was complete. The drive system enabled, the Banshee was hovering a meter off the floor. A slow taxi out into the sunlight was followed by a rush of air as the attack fighter sped upward, disappearing from sight a few seconds later.


  Alex reported: "All systems appear to be functioning as designed."

  "I assume you'll be performing jumps and firing the railgun?" said Harris.

  "The pilot has been instructed to perform those maneuvers, yes. All systems will be fully tested. Hmm… I'm receiving an anomaly from the inertial dampening system. Banshee number two is being recalled."

  Gandy asked, "What happened?"

  "I won't have an answer until the components in question have been fully evaluated. This may take some time."

  Tawn looked at Harris. "Might be our cue to make that Jebwa run."

  Gandy raised a hand. "Can I go?"

  Harris replied, "The rest of you stay here. Answer any questions Alex may have, and continue your studies. We won't be doing anything out there besides looking today. Once we identify what we want to grab, we'll go back with the Hailstorm and bring it all back at once."

  Minutes later the Bangor lifted into the sky. A jump across the stars had the de facto flagship of the free Human fleet heading into the Jebwa atmosphere. Minutes later they were hovering just above the tarmac at the spaceport.

  Tawn shook her head. "That building look gutted to you?"

  "Yes. Let's go have a look at town."

  Tawn scowled. "If salvagers beat us to it, there may not be much left."

  A quick hop had the Bangor settling on the ground in front of the main meeting hall.

  Harris stepped out onto the street. "Hmm. Cat's everywhere. Not a good sign. Power is out."

  A stroll into the government offices found barren rooms. Furniture and equipment had all been removed.

  As they walked the hall into the grand meeting room, Tawn shook her head. "They even took the podium from the middle of the stand. Speakers are all gone. And the lights. The salvagers picked this place clean. All unguarded and just sitting there. This had to be like finding a stack of gold bars in the middle of the street."

  Several other buildings were checked before a run was made out to one of the farms. Crops had been harvested with no care taken to replant. Silos that would have stored grain and warehouses for seeds had all been emptied. Picked clean bones littered any animal pens that remained. The feral cats had seen to the end of any livestock that had been left behind.

  Tawn stopped. "Check that out. That look like a Human skeleton?"

  Harris nodded as he walked over to it. "Shredded bio-suit. I'd say the cats got him."

  Tawn looked around. "Speaking of cats, are there like twice as many as there were a few minutes ago? And they all seem to be looking at us. Might be time we moved on."

  Harris pointed to the clowder of cats gathering between their position and the Bangor. "Might be we already have a fight brewing."

  "Unless you're looking to relive your last experience with them, I'd suggest we go."

  "Not worried about it."

  "Uh, you almost died last time. I'd rather not know what that feels like if it's all the same to you."

  Harris tapped the plasma rifle hanging over his shoulder. "Not gonna happen this time. No pacifists here that we're trying to placate. The little monsters attack and we're gonna see some real carnage."

  "Just the same. We've seen all we need to see here. I'd rather we not have to fight our way the fifty meters back to the ship if we don't have to. And if we go now, we don't have to."

  Harris looked around. "I was hoping to see that one that was leading them last time."

  Tawn chuckled. "That's what this is about? Revenge? You feel you were bested by that cat and now you’re seeking retribution?"

  "Something like that."

  Tawn shook her head and grabbed his arm. "Just when I thought you were maturing you slip back to being twelve. Come on, leave the cats to their own demise. We'll have to make a few hops to some of the other truce colonies to just buy what we need."

  Harris begrudgingly followed. "You take all the fun out of living, you know that?"

  "Getting yourself mauled by a thousand cats again is not what most would consider living. Just keep walking."

  They boarded the ship without incident.

  As Harris powered up the drive, he pointed at the display view of the exterior. "There! That's him!"

  Tawn sighed. "Just keep moving. We have other, important business to attend to."

  Harris reached for the railgun circuits. Tawn grabbed his hand and shook her head.

  "Fine." Harris scowled. "We'll let the beast go."

  In his last effort at extracting revenge, Harris pushed the control stick forward before pulling it back. The Bangor shot across the grass toward the king cat before turning hard skyward. The subsequent violent rush of air had cats flying in every direction. Harris grinned as the pale blue of the Jebwa sky darkened before turning pitch black. His victory was minor, but his grin told of his satisfaction.

  He reached for the console, bringing the rear camera recording up on the display.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I want to see what happened. See if I got the little beast."

  Tawn shook her head until the video came up on the display. Her minor scowl turned into a chuckle.

  Harris sat back. "Huh. Blew him five meters up and fifteen meters across that field and the little bugger landed on his feet and hissed up at us."

  "Harris Gruberg, worst cat-battler in the universe. Now falls to zero one and one against his nemesis. That, my friend, was a draw."

  "Gives me a little respect for the little monster. He's a warrior."

  At the next closest colony they purchased several bags of seed, along with the tools required to plant and care for them. A second jump had the duo back on the ground at Midelon.

  Harris stepped out to a waiting Gandy. "Well?"

  Tawn hopped out behind him. "Well, disaster. Salvagers picked the place clean. Unless you're looking for feral cats, there's nothing left. They took wiring, furniture, modular walls, basically anything that could be reused without having to be rebuilt."

  "So you got nothing?"

  Harris pointed back at the Bangor. "Seeds. But we picked those up from the colony of Gantway Station."

  "No livestock?"

  Tawn chuckled. "He was about to pay good credits for a dozen boglers before I reminded him we can get all we want from Farmingdale for free. I think he was just excited about the thought of fresh bogler. Probably would have taken a bite out of one of them if he'd gotten close enough."

  "Now, I wasn't that bad. Even if that thought did cross my mind. Anyway, we'll make a run to Farmingdale once we have a proper fence set up here."

  "Fence?" said Gandy. "We're on an island. Where they gonna go?"

  "OK, Mr. Boleman, I hereby place you in charge of the bogler herd when we bring them back. It will be your job to see that they're properly kept."

  "I can do that."

  Trish walked up. "What'd you find?"

  Harris gestured toward the ship. "Seeds. And we decided you'd be our best candidate to be a farmer. Alex will be assigning a bot to you. Take it and get us a garden going."

  "Can I have my old bot?"

  "Sure. And make sure you work closely with Alex on this. We're gonna need it producing food for us sooner than we'd like."

  "Do I get my bot back?" asked Gandy.

  "Why would you need it? They'll just be roaming around for months before we need to butcher one. Not like you'll have to feed them or protect them in any way."

  "Well, that's not fair. She gets hers back."

  "Hers will be working. We need yours producing bots or Banshees. If it makes you feel any better, we aren't getting Idiot or Boomer back either."

  Alex came over the comm: "The anomaly with the Banshee dampening field has been identified and corrected. It was a less than optimally performing unit, which is being replaced. Once complete, testing will again commence, although this time we should have our results within minutes."

  Harris nodded. "Excellent. Keep us posted." Harris turned toward the Bangor.

  "You going somewhere?" Ta
wn asked.

  "Getting those sacks of seed out. After that, I say we take that run to Farmingdale. Maybe bring back a hundred head?"

  "A hundred? Would take us years to eat all that," Tawn replied.

  "We need enough to start and maintain our own herd. We have the room. Drop a hundred on this island and we'll probably never see them unless we go looking for them."

  "And just how do you plan to round them up?"

  "Hmm. Maybe it's time to recall Idiot and Boomer. We'll set down beside a herd and send those two out to corral the hundred for us. We'll drive them right up the ramp into one of the bays. Flushing them out on this end will be even easier."

  "Haven't put a tremendous amount of thought into this, have you?"

  "Shouldn't need to. It's cows. How hard can it be?"

  The bots boarded the Hailstorm with the Biomarines. Gandy again protested his lack of access to Reggie. A jump to the Farmingdale system soon had the Hailstorm sitting in high altitude over the plains where the boglers would normally roam.

  Tawn scowled.

  "What is it?" Harris asked.

  "Nothing down there."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Mean I count maybe five strays down there. Move us over to the mountains and colony #13."

  Minutes later the Hailstorm pulled to a stop a kilometer above the small colony.

  Tawn shook her head. "I count about two dozen strays up in those hills. The massive herd is gone."

  "How about the inhabitants? They gone too?"

  "I've got four bios down in those buildings. Definitely Humans."

  "Take us down."

  Minutes later, Tawn followed Harris into the meeting hall building. Four of the colony #13 inhabitants were sitting around a table.

  Harris said, "Mr. Noff? That you?"

  Noff stood. "Mr. Gruberg? And Miss Freely?"

  Harris nodded as he approached the table. "Good to see you, but I have to ask, what happened to all the bogler?"

  "Earthers. The last of them just cleared out of here a few days ago."

  "What? What happened?"

  "Our government back on Domicile is what happened. They sold the entire herd to the Earther emperor. Ships have been rounding them up and transporting them for weeks. Seems those alien attacks hammered their food supply, so they made a deal with our government to purchase the lot of them. We argued against it best we could. But they aren't ours, so we lost out."

 

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