The Search for Cleo (The Last Time Traveler Book 4)

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The Search for Cleo (The Last Time Traveler Book 4) Page 12

by Aaron J. Ethridge


  “Seriously?” Morgan asked with a wide smile.

  “Extremely,” he nodded. “At first, I couldn't get the numbers to work out like I wanted – even if she was having my babies basically back to back. Then, I thought about the fact that Vox and Celeste might chip in. That would make the plan feasible. If you and Azure were to help out as well, it would probably be a piece of cake.”

  “This wooden ship ain't gonna work, Rob,” Morgan said, shaking his head. “The whole idea's just stupid.”

  “No...” he said slowly. “No, it's not. I know that logically. It's a solid plan, and it will certainly work. Although, I admit part of my brain is screaming at me to just go ahead and marry Cleo and raise up an army of descendants to help me save the universe.”

  “Listen to it!” Morgan said excitedly.

  “No,” Robert replied, taking another deep breath. “That's just chemistry talking. Cleo and I are biologically perfect mates. Our bodies are constantly drawing us together, dominating our minds with fantasies of one another, doing their best to achieve procreation.”

  “What's wrong with that?”

  “Under the right circumstances,” the traveler replied, “absolutely nothing. In fact, eventually it's going to be like a dream come true. But, in the here and now, it's almost a nightmare.”

  “Why?!”

  “A lot of reasons,” Robert replied. “Let's start with the big one, though; Cleo – or Azure, or Celeste – could die in childbirth.”

  “Really?”

  “Look around you, Morgan,” the traveler said softly, waving his hand in front of him as he spoke. “We're trapped on a prehistoric world with a handful of emergency medical supplies. Yes, they could die. Not only that, childbirth can be extremely painful. I don't want Cleo going through that and I sure ain't gonna go through it.”

  “You wouldn't have to.”

  “I would have to go through her going through it,” he explained. “I have no plans to do that.”

  “I see what you mean,” Morgan sighed. “So, no kids then?”

  “No kids,” he nodded. “No kids, no kissing, no holding hands, no nothing. Just escaping this place, getting back to our ship, and then getting everything back to normal.”

  “I got ya,” the young man said, a smile spreading across his face. “Still, that doesn't really apply to me and Azure, does it?”

  “Not unless she thinks it does.”

  “Hopefully, she won't.”

  Shortly after this conversation, the captain ordered his crew to bed. It had been a long day and would likely be a long tomorrow. Morgan was not only thrilled with his new mattress, he was looking forward to making a pillow to go with it the following day. He was also going to stuff it some more. It was soft enough for a fairly good night's sleep, but it wasn't as soft as it could be.

  In addition to this source of happiness, Vox had made lamps (complete with shades) for each of the rooms. Morgan wondered exactly what parts of the car he was looking at as Robert reached over and switched out the light.

  As he lay on his new bed, considering the events of the day, he realized that his captain had been right; he could clearly make out Cleo's scent in the air – along with Azure's. Their quarters were a lot closer together than normal and the air wasn't being filtered by anything. On the one hand, he was glad he didn't have to deal with the constant tension Robert and Cleo's bodies put them under. On the other, he was really disappointed by this.

  The following morning, a single kick from Robert was enough to wake him. He had gotten a good night's sleep and felt far more refreshed than he had the previous day. All of his companions had enjoyed a similarly restful repose and, as soon as breakfast had been eaten, they all dove into their respective tasks.

  Robert would begin work on the ship. Cleo had coding to do. (The day before, Vox had rigged up the gravity beam emitter from the car with its own power supply so they could use it to move extremely heavy things. Before it could do that, however, it needed a new OS – that's Operating System for the uninitiated – that Cleo would have to create.) Doc would help Celeste collect more food, more pods, and some other things she felt might prove useful. Vox had a project his wife wanted him to attend to as quickly as possible, and he enlisted Azure's help as he felt she would greatly speed him along. As nothing needed securing at the moment, and no one else seemed to have any use for him, Morgan decided to act as Azure's assistant.

  This seemed to please her as much as it pleased him (which pleased him even more, thereby putting him slightly in the lead from a pleasure point of view). She handed the young man one part after another as he followed along behind her, having no idea what it was they were building. He quickly discovered that she also had no clue. She was simply collecting the parts Vox had asked her to. This didn't bother Morgan for two reasons, however. First, he was spending time with his girlfriend, no matter what it was they were building. Second, Vox would probably tell them what it was after they had grabbed all the parts.

  Chapter 7: Advanced Primitive Technology

  “What is it we're making, Vox?” Morgan asked as he began carefully laying the parts that Azure had him hauling on the ground.

  “Almost everything,” Vox chuckled, his attention focused on a piece of rather fine mesh screen that he was working to attach to what looked like an aluminum frame. “We're starting with dishes, though, because – as my dear wife pointed out last night – they're going to take weeks to make.”

  “Dishes?” the young man asked.

  “I'll be glad to have them,” Azure replied as she set down the last of what she had been toting. “At the moment, we don't have so much as a single glass to drink from.”

  “We could probably make some bamboo cups,” Morgan replied. “I saw some yesterday. Well, it probably wasn't 'bamboo', but I bet we could use it to make cups.”

  “That's better than nothing,” Vox nodded, smiling at his completed sieve, “but, we won't be able to cook in them. If we're going to want anything other than fish on a stick and fresh fruit, we're going to need some cookware.”

  “What's that for?” the young man asked, nodding at the mess screen. “Are we going use it to sift flour or something?”

  “We might,” Vox nodded. “But, I actually made it so we could sift something else.”

  “What?”

  “Clay,” he replied. “Forty, maybe fifty, years ago, Celeste got into making pottery as a hobby. She did it for about a decade, I guess. I was glad she enjoyed it, but I never thought it was practical. Looks like I was wrong, though.”

  “These parts are for a pottery wheel, then?” Azure asked.

  “They are,” he nodded. “We're going to build a kick wheel. It's the easiest thing to make with what we have, and it's what Celeste prefers. Before we go any farther though, we may as well see how Rob's work is coming along.”

  Having said this, he led his companions a short distance into the verdure, where they found Robert carefully inspecting a large tree.

  “I think I can drop it there,” the traveler said, pointing at a relatively empty area of ground.

  “It's going to hit those limbs,” Vox pointed out.

  “I know,” Robert nodded, “but, I think it'll break its way through.”

  “We'll know in a minute, I guess.”

  “That we will,” the traveler replied, switching on his future chainsaw as he spoke. “Stand back. You can't always tell how these things will end up falling.”

  The crew took their captain's advice and got well out of the way as he began to cut into the rather large trunk. In just over a minute, Robert cried 'timber' as the tree fell roughly where he had meant for it to. Although it did hit a number of limbs on its way down, a combination of weight and momentum brought it successfully to the ground.

  Robert then began to cut the limbs off of it, while his companions worked to clear them out of the way as soon as they were free. Vox selected one of the straightest of these, which he had the traveler cut to a specific length.
Once this was finished, Robert switched off the chainsaw and began pressing a number of buttons on its side.

  “What are you doing?” Morgan asked.

  “Setting the guide,” Robert replied. “It's like a mini force field to help you keep the saw where you want it.”

  “What's it for?”

  “This,” the traveler said, switching the saw back on and walking down the length of the log.

  He first ran the saw down its end, creating a surface that was both smooth and squared (from the point of view of the length of the log). This done, he altered the settings on the guide slightly before cutting three slices from it that where each about half an inch thick.

  “Will that do it?” he asked, turning his eyes to Vox.

  “Like a dream, boss.”

  “Good,” he nodded. “We need to make an actual guide rail before too much longer. The saw's guide eats up a lot of power. I don't want to have to keep recharging it every hour or so.”

  “That shouldn't be a problem.”

  “Morgan,” Robert said, stepping over to what appeared to be half a probe's metal casing that was currently filled with an unknown substance, “I want you to help me with this.”

  Having said this, he lifted the makeshift bowl in his hands and once again approached the end of the log.

  “What are we doing?” Morgan asked, moving to the side of his friend.

  “Sealing the wood,” Robert replied, jamming his hand in the substance and smearing it on the log.

  “What is that?” the young man asked, as he followed his captain's example.

  “Sap,” the traveler replied. “I collected it before I woke you up this morning. I should say; started collecting it. It takes a while for it to drip out of the plants.”

  “It's nasty.”

  “It is,” Robert nodded. “But, it'll do the job.”

  “What job is that, exactly?”

  “It'll help keep the wood from cracking as it dries.”

  “How do we get this stuff off our hands?”

  “Like this,” Robert said, turning from their now finished work and digging his hands into the rich, loamy soil that seemed to cover Thundera.

  “You're washing your hands with dirt?” Morgan asked.

  “I am,” his friend nodded. “It's a lot better than having your hands covered with sap.”

  “I suppose,” the young man said, jamming his own hands in the soil.

  He was somewhat surprised at just how effective this was at getting his hands 'clean'. As soon as Morgan was finished, Vox led he and Azure back toward the cavern with their wooden parts in hand, as Robert began working to cut the first plank from the felled tree.

  Using several of the parts that had been brought to him, Vox assembled a frame with a fork on each end of it. He then used the MCB to attach a short piece of pipe to each end of the limb Robert had cut for him. On the other end of one of these pieces of pipe, he attached a small metal disk. He then set this in the forks of the frame he had made. With this done, he attached two short metal rods to the frame just below the forks and ran a thin metal cable between them.

  “What it this?” Morgan asked.

  “A lathe,” Vox replied. “Spin the limb, would you?”

  The young man fulfilled this request, and began turning the metal disk at a steady pace. Vox set the MCB to a very shallow cutting depth, grasped it firmly in his hands, and began running it along the wire. The result was the limb being shaped into a perfectly round shaft.

  “So, the wire is just a depth guide?” Azure asked.

  “It is,” Vox nodded, not lifting his gaze from his work.

  “That's brilliant,” Morgan observed.

  “Not brilliant,” Vox refuted, shaking his head. “It might have been clever if I hadn't seen it done before, but I had.”

  Once he was satisfied with the shaft, Vox attached one of the wooden disks to the other end of it. He then drove a short, metal rod into the ground with a rock. Having done that, he knelt down with the MCB in his hands and his hands sitting on the rod, and asked Morgan to resume his spinning. In mere moments, they had a perfectly rounded disk.

  While they were working to shape the second of the three wooden wheels – this time with Azure doing the turning – Doc and Celeste returned to the cavern.

  “Did you find any?” Vox asked, glancing up at his wife.

  “Plenty,” she smiled, opening the shirt-bag in her hands for her husband's inspection.

  “We ran into a stream less than a mile from here,” Doc explained. “The bed is basically solid clay.”

  “As is the bank,” Celeste smiled. “Your work seems to be going well.”

  “It is,” he nodded. “You should have a kick wheel before the end of the day.”

  “It turns out,” she replied, “that may be days before I need it. This clay is going to take some work to get ready.”

  “You might as well get started then,” he observed. “The sooner you do, the sooner we'll have pots to cook in and plates to eat off of.”

  “That's true,” she agreed. “Can I borrow Morgan?”

  “Be my guest,” he chuckled.

  Celeste asked Morgan to wait there for her – which he was more than glad to do – while she went to grab another of Vox's garments. This, she spread out on the ground as soon as she returned. She then had the young man shake the sieve above the shirt while she filled the tray time and time again with unprocessed clay. In just minutes, they had removed all the stones, leaves, twigs, and bits of root that it had formerly contained.

  She then asked Morgan to grab one of the probe-half-casings from the parts pile, fill it with water, and bring it to her. He did this with the utmost expedience. Once he returned, she had him place the liquid filled casing on the ground and poured as much of the clay as she could into it. This, she stirred thoroughly before allowing it to settle.

  “That's it for an hour or so,” she smiled. “Vox, do we have anything else around here that will hold water?”

  “We have a few more car parts that will,” he replied.

  “Will any of them hold as much as that casing?”

  “Not quiet that much.”

  “We'll just have to work with what we have, then.”

  Having done what they could for the moment, Doc and Celeste headed back into the woods in search of food, basically-cotton, and whatever else might prove useful. (Including – at Morgan's suggestion – some might-as-well-be-bamboo.) Shortly after they left, Mister Harker was urgently summoned by his captain. (Which is to say; Robert started yelling for his help a few minutes later.)

  The young man reached the stump to find that the rest of the tree had been cut into smooth, uniform planks. It was the traveler's intention to move these inside the cave. For this, he needed help. Cleo would operate the gravity beam emitter while he and Morgan steered the planks toward their eventual destination.

  Because these rough boards were nearly an inch thick, ranged from about fifteen to over twenty-six inches wide, and were close to thirty feet long, they were both extremely heavy and difficult to maneuver. In fact, if it hadn't been for the gravity beam, they would have been impossible for the pair to move. Even with it, they had some problems...

  “It is not going to make this corner, man,” Morgan insisted.

  “It will,” Robert disagreed. “We just have flex it a little.”

  “It doesn't seem to want to flex.”

  “It's made of wood, Morgan,” the traveler pointed out. “Wood flexes.”

  “Not when it’s an inch thick,” the young man said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “and not when it’s this hard.”

  “Why don't you just cut it in half?” Cleo asked for the third time.

  “Because I want to get this done today,” Robert explained, having finally decided to answer her. “If we cut the planks in half, it'll take us twice as long to get them moved inside.”

  “No, it won't,” Morgan disagreed. “We've been trying to turn this corner for
twenty minutes. We could have moved two or three in here in that time.”

  “That's exactly my point,” Cleo nodded. “Plus, the less they weigh, the longer the charge will hold on the gravity emitter.”

  “Alright fine,” Robert said with a tone of frustration. “Since Morgan refuses to push...”

  “I am pushing, you lunatic,” the young man replied defensively, once again shoving all his weight against the completely inflexible board, “it's just that this thing won't bend.”

  “Doc could get it to.”

  “Go get Doc!”

  “He's busy,” Robert replied, shaking his head.

  “Why don't we just stack them right by the entrance?” Cleo suggested.

  “Or just leave them outside?” Morgan added.

  “I want to dry them before we use them,” Robert explained. “Outside, that will probably take close to a year. If we use the heaters to turn one of these rooms into a kiln, though, it can be done in a couple of weeks.”

  “At this rate,” Morgan said, once again wiping his brow, “it'll be weeks before we even get them inside.”

  “I'll go grab the chainsaw,” Robert ceded.

  “Good,” both Morgan and Cleo replied.

  Minutes after this, the board had been cut in two and its halves moved easily into the soon-to-be-kiln. Over the next few hours, the trio continued to move one plank after another inside. Around lunch time, Robert allowed them to take a half-hour break. During that time, Doc and Celeste returned, bearing with them a load of goodies, including a new fruit that tasted exactly like honeysuckle from Earth and several pieces of space bamboo which were quickly cut into cups.

  Celeste also informed Morgan that there were plants large enough to make buckets out of, which would greatly speed their clay refining process. Before lunch officially ended, she poured her 'clay water' out of the casing and into several smaller car-part-containers, leaving all the sediment that was unsuited to her purpose in the bottom of the make-shift pot.

  An hour later, the last of the planks was stacked on one of the piles that were beginning to fill the kiln. Robert then modified one of the personal shield generators to block only air flow, and used it to seal the chamber. This done, he took one of the two portable air conditioners, placed it in the doorway, and switched it on in heater mode.

 

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