The Time Stone (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 1)

by Robert F Hays

  “That’s me.”

  “Beautiful isn’t it?”

  “Yes it is. I haven’t seen a vehicle with tracks this close before.”

  The man looked back at the wide caterpillar tracks that the machine rested on. “The only thing they can use over rough ground. You talk like a country boy, how come you’ve never seen one before?”

  “My parents come from Concord on Batalavia, moved to the city when I was two.”

  “Well, just read the instructions and follow standard safety procedures, you’ll do just fine”

  “Yes, I’ve done that before. There should be no problems.”

  The man touched a mechanism on his belt. “Stand back, I’ve got to move my carrier up.”

  Jim heard a low rumble and watched as an even larger machine maneuvered forward. It towered above the first, a platform on top supported a large cab. From the platform to the ground it was walled on two sides, forming a tunnel from front to rear. As it moved, it passed over the land clearer with a wall either side. When it was centered, clamps and scoops pivoted inward securing the clearer.

  Jim walked toward a ladder up one side of the monster. “I was supposed to get a residence and a grid navigator,”

  “Around the back, they’re already in the carrier.”

  Jim threw his carry bag over his shoulder before they scaled the ladder to the platform and walked to the cab. The man opened a side door and they entered. It had a spacious interior. At one end was a large armchair in front of a control panel. Passenger seating for six more was arranged around the walls facing inward. The man sat in the control seat and leaned forward. “Cargo status?” he asked.

  “All clamps secure, cleared for lift off,” replied the computer.

  “Destination batch job five seventeen, take off immediately.” He then turned to Jim. “Take a seat, this carrier isn’t nearly as smooth a ride as the stratos you’re used to.”

  Jim jumped for a seat just as he heard a loud rumbling and watched out the window as the carrier slowly ascended. As it moved forward, he looked out across the now familiar patterns of low vegetation surrounding the sprawl of the new city.

  * * *

  Half an hour into the flight the land changed from the green of new growth to a dark brown of dead vegetation. After another half hour the pilot signaled with a wave and pointed out the front window. “Your property ahead. Where do you want the clearer?”

  Jim shrugged as he peered in the direction the man had pointed. “There,” he said. “In that open area ahead.”

  The carrier descended. Jim felt a violent vibration as it neared the ground, then a jolt as the carrier lurched upward. The pilot turned around again. “The rest of your equipment?”

  Jim looked through the left window and pointed. “There, near that rock formation.”

  The carrier swung around and slowly moved toward a large rocky outcrop. He felt a second jolt then the carrier backed up revealing a large cube shaped object next to a small vehicle.

  “When you’re on the ground, go at least thirty meters from the carrier. When I take off, the down draft will knock you off your feet if you’re closer.” He extended a hand which Jim shook, then handed him a cylindrical shaped object. “Good luck with your new farm. Here’s your initiator key.”

  Jim exited the cab and walked toward the ladder. Before climbing down, he turned back to return a wave from the pilot.

  The ground was mushy beneath his feet. It was covered by a thick layer of dead and rotting vegetation. It was like walking on a giant compost heap that stretched to the horizon. During his trip in the cargo ship he had read up on planetary conversion. He knew this vegetation to be a variety of creeping weed. Soil on Old Earth was a combination of fragmented rock mixed with millions of years of dead vegetation. There was not enough time for that to take place here, so this weed was introduced. It was genetically designed for fast growth. He had read that if you sat long enough and watched you could actually see it grow.

  After designated areas of the planet surface was covered to the desired depth it was killed off with a selective virus. Jim thought to himself that it was fortunate that he was wearing a suit and breathing filtered air. The outside world must have stunk.

  Jim turned to watch the carrier take off in a cloud of steam and spray kicked up from the soggy surface. It rose into the cloudy sky, tilted slightly then headed for the horizon. The planet’s sun peeked through one of the rare blue patches between piles of cumulus. This was Hebram’s version of a fine day.

  Jim struggled against the ever present wind as he walked toward his new house. He then found a control pad marked ‘Inflate’ on one side. Touching it, he stepped back and watched the sides of the cube fall down to form the floor. “Damn!” he yelled as one side fell on the navigator. “Forgot to move the car first!” He ran frantically back and forth. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

  The tent/cabin, once fully inflated, sat at a peculiar angle. Two thirds of it was level while the left third was bowed with a lump in the middle. Jim walked up and looked under the raised base. He could see the lower part of the navigator. It appeared to be undamaged. “I don’t think the pioneers had problems like this in the American west.”

  He searched the wall next to the door and found a panel covering the deflate control.

  “Please confirm deflation,” the cabin said.

  Jim touched the control twice more. He knew this was the confirm code from the instructions he had read while on the freighter. The cabin’s computer was not voice activated. A loud buzzer sounded. “Deflation will take place in two minutes. Anyone inside must immediately vacate.”

  Jim stood back and watched it refolded then he walked to the navigator and placed the key into a hole next to the door.

  “Your name for initial voice print identification,” the navigator asked.

  “Cat Stevens,” Jim stated.

  “Mr. Cat Stevens now registered as owner.”

  Jim made a mental note to have the navigator close by the clearer when it exploded. He had to destroy all record of his new voice.

  “Move twenty meters, ah...” Jim looked around to make sure he wasn’t making another mistake. “...to your left then shut down.”

  The navigator obeyed the command and Jim re-inflated his cabin. He retrieved a stake driver from a box on the side and circled the cabin driving the meter long stakes that anchored it to the ground.

  He knew the interior design, a small living room, bedroom and kitchen/dining room. Most of the furniture was fixed to the interior. Cupboards in the kitchen contained two weeks supply of food, plus another two weeks of concentrated emergency rations just in case. The movable furniture was anchored, each to its own specific place on the wall or floor. It had to be replaced and locked in its travel position before the cabin could be deflated.

  Jim lay down on the bed and turned on the small radio he had brought in his carry bag.

  “...the tragedy occurred on the Bercy road twenty five kilometers from Declan Point...”

  “What tragedy?” Jim mumbled.

  “…Residents are again reminded that when caught in a storm, while operating a navigator, they are to pull over and use the auto anchor. Remain stationary, and secured, until the storm has passed. This brings to twelve the number of deaths caused by not complying with safety precautions this month alone.” the radio returned to music.

  “Well, this is the right place to fake a fatality,” Jim said.

  It was evening. Jim left the radio on as he tried to sleep. It took his mind off the continual clamor of wind rustling the walls of his cabin. Sleep was difficult as he fought the depression that came with isolation.

  * * *

  “It is 7 a.m. Ramiun corrected time.” The radio announced.

  Jim opened one eye. “Huh?”

  “It is a beautiful day outside. Well, as beautiful as it gets here on Hebram. On the way to work this morning I actually saw the sun for five whole seconds.”

  “Fun
ny, very funny,” Jim said in the direction of the radio then rolled over.

  “And now for the latest release from the Young collection. Elvis Presley singing; Blue Suede Shoes.”

  Jim slowly got up and fixed himself breakfast.

  “Did you hear about the new arrival from la Raza?” the radio announcer asked between songs.

  “No, but I’m afraid you’re going to tell me,” Jim said sarcastically while placing a breakfast pack in the sonic oven.

  “He was so proud of his latest Gato fashions he refused to put on a protective suit. The man was last seen somewhere over Bremerton.”

  “Hilarious,” Jim said, waiting for his meal to heat.

  * * *

  Jim opened the outer door of the cabin’s airlock and scanned his property. Numerous randomly placed saplings grew through the dead weed. It was a relatively flat area with occasional rocky outcrops. To the north he could see snow capped mountains in the distance. He walked the two hundred meters to the clearer and climbed a ladder on the side. The cab was designed for comfort; a large lay-back armchair was positioned in front of the control panel. It was sealed, so he could dispense with his suit once inside. From a pocket, he produced a chip given him at the lands office. It contained the full geographical and bio map of his property. It fit neatly in a slot on the control panel.

  “Initializing Geo frame. Have navigation satellite lock on. Do you wish a read out on our location?” asked the onboard computer.

  “Yes,” Jim answered and sat up to watch the screen on the panel. A slightly irregular rectangle appeared with a blinking dot in the lower left hand corner.

  “Ok, where do we start?”

  “Recommendation for first area to clear appearing now.”

  Jim saw a shaded area appear inside the rectangle. “Start up and do it then.”

  “It will take fifteen minutes to bring the engine to operating temperature. Do you want to follow the recommended pattern?”

  “Yes,” Jim said, taking out his radio and leaning back.

  Fifteen minutes later he heard a low rumble and the machine started to move. He took down the pad hanging behind him and started to read the sections in the instructions he hadn’t covered.

  The machine selectively ground what it dug up. It left the roots of the weed and mixed it with the dirt and humus matter as a network to stabilize the soil. He was fascinated by the explanation of the seemingly erratic route it took and the varying depths it dug as it traveled. All patterns were computer calculated to minimize soil erosion.

  After three hours Jim became bored with reading so he put on his suit and climbed out of the cab then down the ladder to the ground. The machine was moving at a moderate walking pace so he ran to the front to watch the steel teeth as they plowed the ground in front.

  He then waited for it to pass and walked on the prepared ground behind, looking at the giant roller as it compacted the soil. After another half hour he was bored with walking so he climbed back in the cab.

  “How long until completion of current project?”

  “Four days three hours.”

  “How far are we from point of origin?”

  “Two point seven six kilometers.”

  “What is the closest you will be to point of origin between seven and eight a.m. tomorrow?”

  “Four point five six kilometers.”

  “Can you re-route to be within point five kilometers from point of origin at that time?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Make the correction. What time will you be at that point?”

  “Zero seven four six hours.”

  Jim climbed down from the vehicle and pulled a small navigational device from a pocket of his suit. Touching a pad marked A an illuminated arrow on its face pointed the way to his cabin. He started to walk.

  “This is boring!” he shouted at the sky. “Where are the Indians when you need em? Ducking arrows would be more interesting than this.”

  * * *

  The night brought another violent storm. The howling wind aggravated his depression as he walked around the cabin playing with the various gadgets it contained. The fluttering of the cabin walls produced a deafening roar.

  Next morning, after listening to his favorite radio announcer, he walked outside and found his overturned navigator. He had forgotten to set the auto anchor, a fancy name for four spikes that extended from its base and into the ground. He decided to right it after he returned from his rendezvous with the clearer.

  * * *

  The clearer reported all was functioning normally so Jim arranged another meeting next morning and returned to the cabin. The navigator, as he suspected, was still upside down so he set about the task of righting it. A forceful lift on one side had no effect. Climbing on its base and trying a rocking motion had the same result. For three hours he tried every method he could think of. Returning to the cabin, he sat in an armchair listening to the radio.

  “The Young Coca Cola Company has just announced that the famed beverage from Old Earth history will be on the market within three months. The length of time taken has been attributed to a shortage of bitter orange, one of its flavorings. Farmers of the Calami district have been advised to inquire as it is suited to that area. Agricultural packs will be available in limited numbers.

  “The Huber beverage company has also announced its version of the drink which should be on the market within six months. They have offered a ten percent over market bonus for any farmer who signs an exclusive supply agreement for the rare flavoring, bitter orange.

  “On the political scene, open rebellion has broken out in yet another planet of the French Federation. The Barnave family, traditional rulers of Limoges, have gone into exile. Their whereabouts are at present unknown.

  “In the field of science it was announced today that further evidence has come to light testifying to the speed and panic of the Exodus. It was found that an airlock door closing wheel on an old colony ship matched exactly the steering control wheel on Jim Young’s fossil fuel vehicle. It was said that this proved that the parts of the spaceship, now in the Golberg museum, was constructed with parts hurriedly cannibalized from numerous sources. The fossil fuel vehicle, which came here by way of the device dubbed by the media as The Time Stone, is now on display at the Batalavia University Museum. It will be.....”

  “Jim!”

  Jim jumped as he heard his name called from outside and looked up to see a face at the window. He walked over and peered through the faceplate of the man outside.

  “Halbert, how did you get here so fast?” he yelled.

  “My equipment was ordered before I left Batalavia, it arrived yesterday. Did you know that your navigator is upside down?” he said pointing in the direction of the vehicle.

  “Yes, wait there!”

  Jim hurried into the airlock and put on his suit. Outside, he found Halbert standing by the vehicle.

  “Can you help me turn this thing over?” Jim asked, giving it a push.

  “Come here,” Halbert said, grabbing Jim by the shoulder. “Repeat after me, in a loud voice.” Jim looked at him and nodded. “Activate self-righting procedure!”

  “Ok... Activate self-righting procedure!”

  “Activating,” the navigator said. At both front and rear of the vehicle metal bars swung out. They pushed at the ground on one side and started a rocking motion. Within a minute it was right side up again. “Procedure complete.”

  Jim knew that computers had no emotions, but he was sure that this one was laughing at him. So was Halbert.

  “Activate auto anchor,” Jim said over his shoulder as he walked toward the cabin.

  Once inside, the two sat and talked. Halbert had set his clearer to work and had gone exploring. He seemed to appreciate the isolation and appeared to be happier than Jim had ever seen him. As it turned out, Halbert hated people in general. The city had him in a constant state of irritation. He enjoyed the company of a small select group but not the immense crowds he had bee
n subjected to for years.

  “So, when’re you going to die?” Halbert asked.

  “Day after tomorrow, waiting for something, don’t know what it is but they told me it would confirm the fact that it was me in the explosion.” Jim thought for a moment. “You have to remember that you never met me.”

  “Yes,” Halbert straightened up. “The poor man. I was going to introduce myself, but I never got over there before the tragic accident. Oh yes, I have neighbors on the other side of my property, a family. Met them at the lands office, very nice people.”

  * * *

  An hour before sunset Halbert got up to leave. He didn’t want to travel back in the dark. Another fatal accident had occurred quite close to their farms.

  “Be careful Jim, this planet’s a killer. People are getting over confident and sloppy with safety. Do not do the same.”

  Jim assured him that he would be careful and walked Halbert to the airlock.

  * * *

  Next morning the routine continued, this time Jim took the navigator as the meeting place was four kilometers from his cabin. As he returned, he saw another navigator parked near his front door. He looked around but saw no one. Climbing out of his navigator, Jim drew his Colt and approached the airlock.

  “Hello, who’s there?”

  “Angel Montoya, I’m inside.”

  Jim exhaled with relief then entered the cabin where he found Angel sitting in his favorite chair.

  “Sorry for just walking in, it seems to have become a local tradition. No one minds the intrusion anymore; it’s a matter of safety and comfort.”

  “Sounds logical. What’s this thing you have for me?”

  Angel reached for a brown plastic bag sitting next to the chair and handed it to Jim. “Body tissue, we’ve calculated that if you place this on the floor of your navigator it will splatter and sear into the front panel when the clearer explodes. The vehicle has to be placed fifty three meters from the clearer. It’ll look like you were trying to get away at the time.”

  Jim chuckled. “That’s the truth. I’ll be running like hell.”