by Chris Hechtl
“Finally,” Shelby said, shaking her head. “What, it took that knock to your head to set you straight?” She asked.
“No, but it helped,” he admitted wryly. “No, it was seeing this, us, you,” he said indicating them. “Before, we were spinning our wheels, not really making a dent in anything. But here, here we're actually doing something, making a difference. Not much of one…but something.”
“Good.”
“Ma'am, we're here to prevent something like that from happening. I just…I feel so damn helpless!” He snarled, fists clenching.” She nodded. “I don't know what to do, where to start!”
“Well, the good news is the enemy is gone. We're fixing your ship, so your priority is Descartes and her crew. But one of the reasons we're here is to pick up the pieces and help them rebuild,” Shelby said, indicating the battered world below. “I've got tugs and probes out now. Once we have material on hand, we'll start supplying them with material and equipment to find and help survivors,” she said.
He nodded. “It's still not enough,” he grumbled. “Never enough,” he muttered, turning away from the images of devastation on the planet. “We have to fix this.”
"About time you figured that out. Now, are you going to help?" Shelby demanded. “That's what we're here for,” she growled. He smiled, still missing teeth, but then nodded.
“Then let's get busy,” she said firmly. “We've got a plan, and since we can, we'll throw in every modern twist we can. But first is survival. The essentials, water, food, shelter, fire. Then infrastructure, then repeat and expand as necessary until the situation is stable. We'll have to balance short term gains with long term survival goals...”
“Yes, Ma'am. And I was thinking about those drones you've got. If we could work out some orbital weapons platforms…even decoy ones, maybe it will scare off the next Horathian who comes along…” Oscar said. Captain Yu nodded in agreement.
“Good, interesting idea, work on it,” Shelby nodded. “I'm not sure about leaving them weapons; have someone look into that carefully. If we have to we'll leave a detachment behind manning a ground side installation to control the platforms and drones,” she said. They nodded. “I was thinking about proposing to them that we build them a modular station too…”
Together they began to help the planet's population rebuild their world.
The End
Author's Afterword:
Wow! Well, I had thought this book would have a lot more stories in it. Honest, I did. But early on I set a goal of 300 pages, 350 max. Those are full-size pages mind you. When I started creeping up to that ceiling, I scaled back on the stories, moving eight of them to a follow on book, Multiverse 2.
So yup, it stinks that I didn't get as much diversity in this first outing, but that's okay. More will come in time. And hey, I finally got the Metalwar stories out! Including the four I finally got around to writing properly! It only took what, ten years for me to get around to publishing them? lol
Oh, and oh yeah, a Bootstrap Colony story! Gee, I'm on a roll! No, this isn't the full book I mentioned on the blog, which will come later. And yeah, I'll probably end up tying the three together in the new book…or I'll make you wait for the next Multiverse book if I really want to be a stinker...
Now that this is off to the Betas, I'm going to finish shopping for the cover art, (always painful to my wallet) and then put the pieces of that together. Then on to any chores I need to work on…and eventually the next project! I'm thinking more characters, or oh, the Arboth class model Poon has asked for…or the Neumann (Newmann? I can't remember the spelling off the top of my head) class he also asked for…or oh, I dunno. I'll figure out some mischief to get into I suppose. :D Lol
You can read more on my blog:
http://cyberforge3d.blogspot.com/
Appendix:
My blog:
http://cyberforge3d.blogspot.com/
Federation Fan group Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/582559128466667/
Federation Wikipedia:
http://federation-datanet.wikia.com/wiki/Federation_AI_Historical_Datanet_Wiki
Survival:
http://modernsurvivalblog.com/preps/what-do-i-need-to-be-prepared/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boeing_747
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boeing_P-8_Poseidon
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geode
http://www.dvice.com/2014-2-28/piece-tree-could-make-excellent-cheap-water-filter
http://www.daz3d.com/bolladon
Other resources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_ancient_Egyptians
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epidermodysplasia_verruciformis
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_papillomavirus
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stellar_classification
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sudarsky's_extrasolar_gas_giant_classification
Books:
Prepper's Long-Term Survivial Guide by Jim Cobb
The Planet Construction Kit by Mark Rosenfelder
Sneak Peek:
Bootstrap Colony 2 Second Chances
"How did they come about? I mean, energy…beings? I mean, come on! That just reeks of bad scifi!" Jim said, throwing his hands up in disgust.
Mitch snorted. "Q anyone?"
"Yeah!" Jim said, waving a hand.
"Okay, from what we've gathered, they are artificial; that means that someone made them."
"Okay…"
"Chicken and the egg thing," Sandra said. "They didn't evolve, which by the way is the answer to that riddle. But in order for an energy being to exist they have to have had a physical starting point."
"Or their creators were energy too…Don't forget that."
"We're thinking, and this is only a hypothesis now, so don't shoot the messenger," she said, holding up a restraining hand. "What we're thinking is that their creators were physical, corporal beings like us. That would explain why they care about our existence to the level they do."
"Okay..."
"I know it's a stretch, but all we've got is inferences here."
"Okay."
"Bear with me. So, these creators, call them, um, not forerunners or ancients or…damn…what do we call them?"
"The zookeepers?" Sandra suggested.
"Preservers?" Mitch said, more diplomatic.
"That…Preservers sounds good. Anyway, they may have evolved like we did, moving up through the civilization tech scale until they got to the point where they could manipulate matter, time and energy. They then created a…circuit, I suppose in energy," she looked at Mitch who shrugged. "Then went on from there to complex things."
"They could go the artificial route or the organic. That's debated too," Mitch said. "Artificial by making circuits and such, or equations and algorithms."
"Or organic by creating an energy being made in their form or another form. From the cells up somehow," Sandra said.
"Competing theories," Jim said.
"And we don't have a clue on which is right or not, or if it matters in the grander scheme of things," Mitch shrugged. "Though, it is fun to debate and speculate about it," he said grinning at his wife. She looked away. "And yeah, we're coming up with all sorts of…layman ideas on how it might work. I don't know if we're spinning our wheels or not though."
"Probably."
"At least you have the time and energy to speculate on such things," Jim said, making a face. "The rest of the people on this sodding mudball are just trying to stay alive," he growled.
Sandra nodded, sober now. She rested a hand on her swollen tummy. "Yes. I'm glad we hooked up," she said, flashing a grateful grin to her hubby. "In more ways than one," she murmured, stroking her swollen tummy as she looked down.
"Yeah, you could say that," Mitch said softly as well. Her fingers caught his and wrapped around them. He brought them to his lips and kissed them gently.
There was a bit of silence as they shared the tender moment. Then Jim grew increasin
gly uncomfortable. He finally cleared his throat impatiently.
"Noel, hello," he said snapping his fingers. They reluctantly looked at him. "Noel and Omar are working on a radio network. What's this about a satellite?"
"Yeah," Mitch said, clearing his thoughts. "I want to get a series of communications satellites in orbit. That will let us communicate and map the planet."
"I see. You do realize though, not everyone has a damn satellite radio, right?"
"No, but they have cellphones. If we can set up a ham radio network to go with the satellites, we can rig a cell tower to work with the ham radio and satellite dish. So far flung communities can talk to another, exchange info…one of the critical pieces of survival is communication. Right after the basic four."
"Food, fire, shelter, water," Jim said nodding.
"If they haven't gotten those four worked out in the past four years, they are dead. We've got a general map of where people are, the alien robots downloaded it for us. But it's…hard to interpret. They aren't making it easy for us," Mitch said, making a face.
"Is that where I come into this?"
Mitch nodded. "I've got a lot of AI, and some intuitive computer systems, but this is far beyond any of that. What we need is a running dictionary. Something that can say, read the symbology, and as we or the computer works, find common variables and create the dictionary and then apply what we've learned to the rest of the data."
"Okay…"
"The map is old too. They gave us a snapshot in time of where people are…at that time. So…"
"So, the longer we take to find them, they may not be there when we do finally get into the area."
"First you have to get there," Jim cautioned.
"True," Mitch replied. "We're starting with the nearest communities first, those we know and moving outward."
"All roads lead to Rome or base in this case," Sandra said. "We need a better name for this place," she said, looking around.
"We'll discuss it. Waterfall City…."
"This is so not Dinotopia! So don't go there!" Sandra mocked. He shrugged.
"Like I said, we'll figure it out. It's not a big issue. As to transport, well, first we'll try to radio those areas, then send in an airborne team. But, well, first we've got to figure this map out. The first frame of reference is important, the starting point."
"Seven coordinates needed to move from point A to B in 3D space," Jim paraphrased with a faraway look. "The six coordinates, two per axis to plot the destination, and then the seventh the origin," he said.
"Thank you, Dr. Jackson," Mitch teased.
"Huh," Jim said, then shook his head. "Sorry."
"Not a problem. But yeah. To know where we're going, we first have to know where we are on the map. The starting point. So, figure it out."
"I'll do what I can. And I'll try to clean the code up. I'll need a dedicated server. Probably a farm."
"Well, we'll see what we can do," Mitch replied.
You can read more the summer or fall of 2014! (I hope, seriously, I just started this! The above is raw, it will probably be cleaned up and changed…)
Sneak Peek 2:
Alive:
Synopsis: Alive is…well, an alien invasion story. I know, I know, it's been done before. Yeah, I know, I've even written my own version. But hey, why not one more, eh? It sort of grabbed me in 2013 after seeing some of the movies I bought. and I had to get it out of my system. It started as an outline for a short, but then scenes started popping up and writing themselves...and then the plot started expanding and well, you know. Lol Here is a raw look at the book.
He shook his head. She'd done it; she'd gone looking for food in a gas station. It was the worst time too, and she'd taken a kid with her. Aliens were in the area, he could see them off in the distant town. Smoke was rising in the desert air. He had to get to them before the damned aliens did.
He tracked their footprints and found them leading to the one place she should never go. She had headed out on her own, he realized, desperate, confused, and angry. Defiant, and stupid, all of the above rolled into one package of trouble. For whatever reason she wasn't thinking clearly he thought. They had picked up over a dozen people, many somber kids, all of them hungry. She'd taken a girl with her to help get food. He sighed. He should have left them all behind he thought. Still should.
He arrived on foot as an alien air vehicle arrived. It was a single, just one alien from the look of it, a long sleek hover bike or whatever. A drone hovered behind it, then circled the aircraft, moving out in a search spiral. He dropped into the flood canal and used it and the sewer it was attached to as cover to get closer to his objective.
Halfway there he heard a blood curdling scream, definitely female. He froze and then heard the pounding of feet above. He found a grate in time to look up to see a little girl, maybe nine or ten run for her life. He opened his mouth to call out to her but she was cut down by the drone hovering outside. Her small body jerked like a rag doll as it fell; her torso exploding in gore.
He scowled, set his jaw. He heard another scream again, this one coming from inside. He was tempted to abandon her, but he went in anyway. Stupid, he thought as he climbed out of the shadow of the sewer, always the hero. He checked the area, but the drone wasn't in sight. Not a good thing he thought, it was the ones that you didn't see that got you killed.
Playing hero just got you killed too, he grumbled silently to himself as he crouched and made his way across the open space to the open back door of the station. The alien was overconfident, assured of its superiority he thought as he worked his way into the store through the back door. He could hear it clacking, see it through the shelves as it stood over the whimpering girl.
He got the drop on the alien, knocking a row of empty shelves onto it. It fell on its back, legs and arms kicking like a turtle. He picked up a cinder block and crushed its throat. It got one hand claw free and clawed him thrashing about. A long claw stabbed into his shoulder. He twisted away and it raked his back. He bellowed in pain and rage, bearing down with all his weight. “Die you son of a bitch,” he growled harshly, struggling. It kept thrashing and he grimly bore down, cutting its head off. After a moment he felt the blood pooling around his feet and stopped. He turned, adrenalin still pumping.
He turned to the girl and checked her, panting. She was sobbing in a fetal ball, her clothes were in tatters. The alien had shredded them to check to see if she was male or female. He winced but got to his feet, puffing, then he went over to her and grabbed her arm.
At his touch she reacted hysterically. She slapped at him, screaming and slapping at him until he shook her. She beat at him hysterically with her fists until he hugged her close, pinning her against him. Then she opened her eyes. Fresh tears welled as she realized it was him with a shocked expression, then her face crumpled as she cried in relief. “Where is…” she asked where the girl was, he sighed and lifted her to her feet. She sobbed when he shook his head meaningfully.
“Come on, we've got to go. We've only got a minute,” he said grimly moving her purposefully out the back door.
He carried her out as she buried head in his good shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck for support. Just as he got outside the motor home pulled up in a screech of tires and dust. He looked up to see the alien drone coming in for its usual kamikaze. The door to the motor home was thrown open. “Are you just going to stand there? Get in!” Megan screamed.
“My Barrett!” He yelled back as he tossed the girl none too gently inside. She skidded on her ass on the carpet as he took the rifle from Megan. He turned and immediately noted the drone had oriented on them. He raised the rifle calmly as it fired, took the shot, and then chambered a second round as it bobbed about.
The drone wobbled and then dove into the ground and then exploded. “Shit!” he said as the door behind him slammed shut. He dropped and rolled under the motor home, cradling the precious rifle. The vehicle rocked with the explosion, the windows on that side shattering.
People inside screamed and ducked for cover.
He rolled out the other side, grim. He yanked open the door and then climbed into driver seat, pushing others away. “Close the damned door!” He roared, turning his head to be seen before he put the vehicle in gear. “We need to get clear now!”
He drove, listened to the woman as she pointed out a nearby hiding spot. He passed it, and she pointed to another. He nodded. Got under cover and used water recklessly to cool the _2engine. They waited anxiously, listening to the sky as alien craft swarmed to the sight of the fallen alien like flies.
“I wish we could have taken its vehicle, weapons,” the girl said.
“Bugged. We can't chance it. Besides, it's alien. I don't know squat about how to drive it, and I doubt you could read the user manual, if there is even one to begin with,” the hermit said, wincing in pain.
“Oh. We're fine gee thanks for asking,” she said, picking glass out of her hair and clothes. Then she noticed the blood dripping from his arm. “But you're not. You're hurt,” she said, voice rising in concern.
Others looked up in sudden concern. He looked at the arm, grimaced, but kept focused. They'd have a snowball's chance in hell of moving if they were found, but he couldn't be distracted at the moment.