Bootstrap Colony

by Hechtl, Chris

  The other raptors were looking around now, he was still downwind of them, so they didn’t have his scent. They could probably see him, but they might not associate him with the shot. Flipping the bolt back and forth, he felt the hot brass drop onto his arm then fall into the truck. He lined up for the second shot, found a nice female and popped her right behind the arm about mid chest. She went down but he didn’t pay attention, already lining up on the next animal. With cold precision he popped three more before they locked onto him and the report of the rifle. Six more raptors were left, including the returning juvenile. He wanted them all, but the adults were the priority.

  They began to caw and posture, a fifth shot took another down right in the front of the chest near the breast bone. Five to go. Another shot, this time the animal moved it only caught the shoulder. It still went down however, the fast acting poison kicking in, not even giving it time to kick before it died. He had five more shots before he would have to switch ammo. The robot stomped up in front of the truck, posturing itself, arms moving out from the body, legs apart, and torso hunched down. He adjusted his aim around the robot, lined up for another shot but the animals were charging.

  Even though they had just been on a chase and kill they still moved fast he realized. He swore as one shot missed, digging into the dirt near its foot where he thought the animal was going to be. It had swerved at the last second, spoiling his aim. The next caught one as it moved around a rock. The juvenile jumped onto the rock and paused, he clipped it dropping it to writhe and freeze in the grass in death.

  The robot’s pop pop was a bit of surprise. Its “Final perimeter defense initiated,” rumble was something that made him break out of his rage and realize the animals were pretty damn close. He ducked back into the car, pulling the hatch shut. There were three animals left, one charging the front got killed by the robot, but another flanked left of the robot and then charged, biting down onto the arm. The last one danced; suddenly aware it and its pack mate were all that were left. It cawed, fluttering in distress. The robot mechanically reached with its free arm for the throat of the raptor biting and clawing it.

  Mitch winced, hearing the crunch of plastic and metal, then the spark of wiring. “Going to have to fix that,” he sighed. The robot got it’s attacker by the throat and squeezed hard. The head popped off, the body fluttering and thrashing as the neck gushed blood. Mitch winced once more. The other raptor had had enough, it turned to flee but the robot turned, angled its good arm and shot, catching the animal in the rear and then back. It stepped over to the raptor, feebly thrashing in the grass and stomped on its head. “One way to put it out of its misery,” Mitch said with rich approval.

  Knowing it would be bad, but that he had to know, he drove closer and up to the body of the man. He fought the nausea as he looked. The man was torn apart, shredded. Nausea tore through Mitch; he managed to climb out of the truck in time to barf in the nearby grass. Caws from the wood line let him know he hadn’t gotten the entire pack. He was not going to let them eat the body however. He pulled out a tarp, working quickly he gently pushed the body onto it, and then bundled it onto the top of the truck. The robot docked after he got back into the car. He felt his nausea cramp his stomach as he returned to the base.

  It was no longer a good day, this really sucked he thought. Not only did he fail, but he knew he should have been out rescuing others. Part of him knew that he should, people mattered not machines, but he also knew that going out into the bush blind was dangerous.

  He used the trencher to dig a hole near the edge of the inner perimeter. Carefully he lowered the tarp into the hole. A robot bulldozed the Earth over the body. “Damn that truly sucked,” he said, head low. He commanded the machine to return to work and then turned back to his own work.

  When he realized that he was filthy, covered in drying blood and dirt he took the time to wash up. The animals in his mobile home were subdued. He dried off, and then petted each of them, gently holding the pregnant female cat Hera to his chest as she purred her heart out. The computer beeped some endless time later. “Reminder cheese. Feeding time,” the AI said. He sighed and got up. A mew from the cats and woof let him know they were hungry too. He fed them, and then got back to the job of living.

  Several days later he was stuck in the mobile home. It wasn’t so bad; he had a cat in his lap while he sat in the window with his laptop. He watched the robots sludge through the rain on chores. When one of the androids slipped and fell in the mud, scattering its load all over the wet ground he winced. He clicked the Bluetooth on. The robot thrashed in the mud, acting like a stuck turtle. “Andy.” He looked through the binoculars. “Andy eight roll onto your back,” Mitch ordered patiently. It would be comical if he wasn't aware of how much damage the robot could do to itself. The robot stilled for a moment as it processed the order and then complied. “All right, now sit up.” The robot teetered, but managed to sit up. An attempt to get its feet under it made it slip and fall once more.

  A general purpose robot trundled by with a load. “GP six halt,” Mitch ordered. The robot stopped, then spun to orient on his position. Its tracks dug into the mud, spraying it around and onto the hapless Andy. “Set your load down and aide Andy eight out of the mud,” Mitch ordered. The robot complied. Once on its feet Andy eight began listing damage. “Report to cave for hibernation until repairs can be done,” Mitch sighed, then watched it limp off to the cave. “All droid units now restricted to caves during wet weather,” he ordered. A beep acknowledged the order.

  The GP robot picked its load up and went about its business. He really should go to the cave and make repairs to the robots. That was the third Andy down. He still had the ED to patch as well.

  The urge to keep busy was strong, but he also felt the urge to just relax. He had been going all out for the past sixteen months. Four months of intense work with the businesses and engineering the Andy robots, then prepping for this trip had seen many eighteen or twenty hour days, and of course not a single day off. He knew he needed the break, but wasn’t sure if he could afford the time. He petted the cat, sighed as he looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, vowing only a couple more hours for the break.

  Fortunately the day before he had finished the chicken coups and enclosures, the broiler birds were all in semi-outdoor enclosures instead of in the tight confines of the transport cages. The turkeys had been a bit of a pain, the first attempt at enclosing them had led to one of them almost getting out in a flurry of feathers. Even though they were breast heavy they still had wings, and some apparently liked to fly, or at least attempt it from time to time. His hasty fix had saved the day, but he knew it might not be good enough for some of the other animals.

  The geese enclosure had been retrofitted to extend the door all the way up, and fencing had been wired over the open area. They were probably living up the rain; he knew they liked it better than the other fowl. Hogs too for that matter. The dogs would be a mess though. He sighed, petting Hera. She was gravid, and in her condition she constantly begged for attention and petting whenever he entered the mobile home. It was going to get interesting when she and the other cats began to drop litters, hell the large animals would be interesting too. They were going to need their own birthing areas soon.

  It had been nearly a week since the raptor attack, it still bothered him from time to time, but the pain of grief had faded into a dull ache. It felt weird, mourning someone he had never known, and would never know. “At least someone would,” he sighed, and then returned to the laptop. His first cheese attempt had been a messy affair; he had ended up feeding the curds to the hogs. The second attempt had yielded a better batch, and was aging now. He had enough milk to do one batch a week now. The butter had turned out okay; he had forgotten the salt though so it was only good for cooking.

  That was another thing, he needed to get out and explore. He needed a lot of raw material, salt, iron, copper, carbon, and just about everything else. But right now his main priorities were grave
l, sand, limestone, and clay for the roads and concrete.

  There was a sandbank further downstream, most likely formed when the crushing water dug into the rocks, pulverizing them and washing them downstream. Clay he had seen in the gully six point five kilometers away. Gravel was something else, he didn’t want the feldspar rocks the combine and tractors were turning up regularly, and he needed a hard rock like granite.

  Limestone was the kicker; the black rock was useful in many applications. Cooked into a white paste it became purified calcium carbonate, perfect for many building applications like mortar, cement, quicklime, and concrete. There was limestone a plenty in the caves, he just wasn’t sure about digging it. He wasn’t a structural engineer, tunneling into something like the network of caverns was not something he was too happy about trying. The threat of a cave in was not something he wanted.

  When the afternoon sun broke out he sighed in relief. “Finally!” He gave Ginger and Hera’s ears a rub, then whistled Max to heel as he stepped outside. The dog needed no second invitation, bounding out of the mobile home and off to do his business on a nearby tire. “That reminded me, I probably need to dump the sewage tank,” Mitch sighed, then set on his ball cap and headed off to the caves.

  Andy eight had a lot of stripped gears, plus some torn wiring and a couple bent supports. He had set up a temporary workshop in the entrance to the cave he considered the great hall. The damaged robots were there, as well as bins of parts, a makeshift bench, and a few machine tools. The rain started up again, he looked out to the cave entrance then back down at Max who was sitting near the entrance. “Guess we’re stuck here for the moment,” he said. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work. Cleaning the mud and grime was going to be messy.

  Swapping out damaged parts for good ones was easy. Bending the brackets back without a good vice had been an interesting challenge... That was until he got the idea of having the ED clamp down on one part of the bracket as he pounded it back into shape. Andy eight was back in shape after an hour, but would still have a slight limp. Ed’s damage was both cosmetic from the outside, the leg scratches had not pierced the armor. He checked the gears in the hips and arm, they looked okay. The elbow servos were warm, he found a crimped liquid nitrogen line and was forced to bleed the line, and then replace it.

  It was almost amusing to pick broken teeth out of the underside of the arm. Almost. Some of the wiring to the hand motors and sensors had been torn, some time splicing had repaired them. ED reported function restored in its deep basso metallic voice. He smiled. One of the mini-me’s had a burned out ankle servo, an easy patch job. He knew the androids were just not suited to the outdoors. They hadn’t been designed for it; they had originally been designed as household servants and aides to disabled and elderly people. He patched a few more androids before deciding it was best if he had them concentrate on cave activities. Only one GP robot needed repair, it had lost a track and gummed its wheels up with a couple rocks.

  The next day shined bright in clear, at least clear through the moving clouds. It looked good, like the weather was clearing. He set up a GP to drain the sewage tank then hurried through the morning chores. He was eager to get to the next project. Last night he had taken a sample of rock back to the mobile home, a bit of scanning with the laser scanner had confirmed it was limestone. When the chores were done he was going to set the robots to leveling the caves walls, floors, and ceilings, then head out to get a couple loads of sand and clay.

  Spending the morning with the bobcat and dump truck had been an interesting affair. The river had swollen after the rain, but he could still access the sandy embankment with little trouble. He took a half a dozen loads, letting the robotic dump truck tow out one of the empty fertilizer trailers to fill as well. He had them dumped inside the perimeter in a series of mounds; he could tidy them up later. He took an MRE lunch break then had a tractor carry the bobcat on one of the small trailers to the clay he had spotted. A nearby elk drinking had made him freeze; a careful view around the area had not spotted any predators.

  He managed several loads, during his lunch break he had hit upon the idea of using the farm tractors to tow trailers and empty containers. They had eaten into his fuel reserve, but he had had plenty of hydrogen now. The trips back and forth were quick, only taking a half hour for each vehicle despite the drying ground and spots of mud puddles. After the sixth turnaround he decided to send the medium range UAV out to see if he could spot a gravel pit, or at least some good granite. Sure he had limestone, but it took eons for it to convert into granite. Getting the vehicles into the caves was out as well.

  Returning to base he was amazed by the piles of rock and soil. The pile of rock also had him confused, until he saw a donk trundling along loaded with a rock. The robots in the caves were removing loose rubble, bringing it to the cave mouth and then loading it onto a trailer. He had forgotten that order, feeling a little embarrassed, and then silly about the embarrassment.

  The drone reported signs of a Rex pack north of him and he trotted to the mobile home and his waiting laptop. At first he was confused; they were about thirty five kilometers away and heading north. They looked to be stalking something. It was definitely a different pack; there were two adults and a couple juveniles, one about the size of a raptor. He zoomed out, and up, then sucked in his breath. In a clearing three hundred meters ahead was a pack of humans with a fresh kill. He felt a thrill, then agony at not being able to warn them. The Rexes were spreading apart, with the juveniles hanging back.

  Getting an idea he took the stick and suddenly buzzed the group. The group of women looked up in alarm. There were seven, dressed in a variety of clothes. One had shocking bright red hair and a full figure. She pointed to the UAV, and then waved. Several of the women began to jump up and down, but a few muttered and dug into the kill, ignoring him. He buzzed them again, and then circled the approaching Rex. When they didn’t look he buzzed downward, then back up into a bank then around to circle the lead Rex. The women began to stop waving, then the red head turned, shading her eyes against the western sun tried to spot what was there as if she got the message.

  He buzzed the Rex again, one of the juveniles jumped and snapped. The large one reared its head and roared, then clopped its jaws with a mighty smack. The women got a clear view of the head over the tree line and all hell broke loose. Several ran north, while others called them back to drag the deer. “Idiots,” Mitch muttered as they tried to drag the kill to a beat up red pickup truck waiting under the trees on the far side of the clearing. “Okay, maybe not so dumb. But the blood will lead them right back to your base, you're upwind of them, give it up ladies,” Mitch muttered, knowing what he said was not going to be heard. He buzzed the Rexes from behind again; they were now no longer focusing on the retreating women. He smiled grimly as the truck pealed out. He gave one last spin around the Rex family then wagged the wings and set the autopilot to return.

  “Well, that was interesting.” He drawled, stretching. “Nothing like saving a couple of damsels in distress to top a day.” He smiled down as Hera butted at his leg commandingly and then gave it a thorough cheek rub. He bent down and gave her a petting, chuckling as she rumbled. “I see you approve huh?” She meowed, and then began to kneed the carpet. He scooped her up, protecting her gravid belly. “Now now Missy, you know better than that,” he admonished. He stroked her soft silky fur and then set her down by the scratching post so he could start dinner.

  He checked the video recording before going to bed; the red head was definitely a looker. She had been wearing a plaid long sleeve shirt, knotted in the front of her full figure. Tight fitting blue jeans accented her figure. It looked like she was the sensible one, wearing hiking boots. The rest of the troop had been wearing sneakers and an assortment of ill suited garments.

  They hadn’t been particularly well armed either. A pair of hunting rifles, a shotgun, handgun, and a bow and arrow. There had been a few crude spears, but they would be splinters against the full fu
ry of a Rex charge. He hoped they had made it okay. The red head had seemed to be one of the leaders, she had tried to get them to abandon the kill, but the others had not listened. It looked like one had even taken a pot shot at the lead Rex during the retreat. Waste of ammo, that twenty two at that range was more likely in the bush then in the beast. He snorted at his whimsy then flipped the laptop and lights off and turned in for the night.

  The next morning he sent the UAV off north east to check for more granite and human sign. He wasn’t sure if the transplanted humans were still were the aliens had left them; it would take a pass with the longer ranged UAV or a trip up with the hummer to know for sure. He set up the cement works, tapping the fire truck to pump more water to it, and then ran lines and hoses power and hydrogen for power and fuel. The massive graveler was set up, while the electric kilns were put up nearby. He had a GP robot run loads of limestone to the first kiln, when it was full it will turn on and cook the limestone down to calcium carbonate.

  With the materials he had on hand he could make Portland cement, but it would take up to a week to fully cure with the accelerant he had on hand. There was accelerant that could do the job in as little as ninety minutes, but he had no intention of playing race the clock with concrete. The last thing he needed was a bad pour or a droid wearing cement shoes.

  He needed an aggregate like granite to make concrete for the outdoor applications. He set the grader to grade the landing strip, knowing it would need constant checking. Unlike the other AI, the grader was the robot with the least amount of field testing and development. Hidden stones would quickly befuddle the software into a sulking lock up.