The Search for Cleo

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  While this was being attended to, Doc had borrowed the chainsaw and used it to make a dozen or so bamboo buckets. The moment he returned, Robert went in search of another tree, and Morgan and Azure went with Celeste in search of more clay. Vox continued his work on the kick wheel while Cleo began doing some research he had asked her to do. For his part, Doc filled the remainder of the day fishing for their evening meal. All of the companions completed their tasks just before the sun went down.

  “If I can keep going at this rate,” Robert said as he worked to kindle the fire once again, “I should have all the wood we'll need in the next few days. It'll still take weeks for it to dry, but at least we'll have it drying.”

  “I got the kick wheel done,” Vox added, “which means we should have dishes in the next couple of weeks, as well.”

  “Until then,” Morgan replied, lifting his bamboo cup, “at least we have something to drink out of.”

  “We do,” Vox nodded. “With any luck, we'll have a lot more than that before long. Tomorrow, I need you and Doc's help, Morgan.”

  “No problem.”

  “At least I think I do,” he continued. “Small girl, what did you find out?”

  “I’m pretty sure it'll work,” she smiled.

  “What will work?” Morgan asked.

  “I'll show you before long,” Vox smiled.

  “What's that?” Robert asked, glancing up from where he had been blowing on the fire. “Keeping secretes, are we?”

  “I've decided that you're right, boss,” Vox nodded. “It's better not to tell people what you're thinking until the last minute. It makes you look a lot smarter.”

  “That's true,” he chuckled. “It does.”

  “You won't give us any clues?” Azure asked, taking up a seat at Morgan's side.

  “I plan on making some more things we need,” Vox smiled.

  “Can you make Morgan a razor?” she asked.

  “Maybe,” he chuckled.

  “I forgot to shave last night,” the young man said, rubbing his still-scruffy chin and neck.

  “You did,” she smiled. “It's alright, though. I realize that we're 'roughing it' at the moment.”

  “Oh no,” he said, lifting himself from the floor. “What my love wants, my love gets. Provided, of course, that it's reasonable and within my means.”

  “Your love?” she repeated.

  “Did you have any doubt?” he chuckled. “I'll be right back.”

  Morgan quickly made his way to the PPSU, stepped inside, and began looking for a way to make it give him a shave. After mere seconds of searching, he noticed two buttons at the side of the sink. One depicted a toothbrush, the other a razor. Using his ever-increasing brain power, he selected the one that looked like a razor. Then, he screamed.

  An invisible force shoved him toward the mirror above the sink, twisted his head around, held him perfectly still, and began to cut the hair from his face. At least, Morgan assumed it was meant to be 'cutting'. In truth, he felt that 'ripping' would be a much more accurate description. Robert had been right; it felt as if his face were being torn off. Of course, as the thing wouldn't let him go, all he could do about it was scream some more. So, that's exactly what he did.

  After it was done – which was seconds that felt like eons later – it released him. He carefully inspected his face in the mirror to make sure that it was all still there. It was, and he was also positive that he had never before had such a clean shave. In spite of knowing better, his curiosity overwhelmed him and he pushed the toothbrush button before he could stop himself. Once again, he screamed.

  Having done what he came to do (and then some), he headed back toward the cavern's main chamber.

  “Alright,” he said as he resumed his seat at Azure's side. “Having the PPSU shave me is neither reasonable or within my means. Until I can get my hands on a razor, you're just going to have to learn to love neck-beard Morgan.”

  “I'll do my best,” the blue maiden giggled.

  “How can you two stand to have that thing shave your legs?” he asked, glancing down at her hair-free calf.

  “What do you mean?” both she and Cleo asked at the same moment.

  “They don't shave their legs, bro,” Robert replied, shaking his head. “They just naturally don't grow any 'unsightly body hair'.”

  This assertion caused the young man to get an extremely thoughtful expression on his face as he considered all the possible ramifications of this statement. Whatever he was thinking was interrupted by Doc, however, who suddenly rushed into the chamber holding a flashlight in one hand and a massive fish in the other.

  “Look at what I just caught!” he said excitedly.

  He was holding what appeared – at least to Morgan – to be a slightly undersized (or young) swordfish. The parts of its body that would have been blue on a such a fish were florescent orange on this creature, however. Another difference was that it had several squid-like tentacles growing around its mouth. In addition, it had six eyes – three on each side of its head – and a number of spines rising from its back. Taking all these things into account, he felt that it didn't look all that much like a swordfish, after all.

  “It think it kind of looks like a swordfish,” Doc said with a smile.

  “That's what I thought,” Morgan asserted, before adding, “at first.”

  “Let's hope it tastes as good as swordfish,” Robert replied.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Doc nodded.

  Just minutes later, Doc's catch had been cleaned and cooked. The crew was delighted to find that it did, in fact, taste exactly like swordfish. Well, no it didn't. It tasted like kalfral, because that's exactly what it was. But, you know how it is. If you don't know what some bird tastes like, it automatically tastes like chicken. It was the same thing here. None of them knew what kalfral tasted like, and all of them had eaten swordfish. Hence, it 'tasted just like swordfish'. Robert was even more pleased to find that the tentacles tasted like calamari (same qualifier as before) – which he greatly enjoyed. He tried to get Cleo to taste it, but she wouldn't. She also threatened not to kiss him if he ate any. However, as the two of them were currently under 'no kissing' orders and he knew for a fact that she was bluffing, he ate it anyway.

  Once their meal was concluded, they called it a night. Morgan did take enough time to stuff his Vox-shirt-pillow with basically-cotton, but he was so tired that when he woke up the following morning, he couldn't remember finishing before he fell asleep. As soon as breakfast was over, the crew once again got to work.

  Morgan's first task was to help Celeste – along with Azure – move her soaking soil to its next stage of preparation. Celeste poured the water off the top of the clay she had left soaking in the bamboo buckets overnight. She then emptied the muddy residue this left behind onto several cloth squares she had made out of one of her dresses the night before.

  “Fortunately,” she said, as she began tying one of these squares closed with a narrow strip of cloth, “this clay was almost pure when we dug it up. If it hadn't been, it might have taken us days more to get enough sand and other soils out of it to make it workable. As it is, all we need to do now is hang it up to dry for a few days.”

  “I suppose that is fortunate,” Morgan agreed, following her example and tying up another bag.

  “It is,” she nodded. “After I've worked the clay, we have to let it dry for around two weeks before we can fire it. The less we have to do to get the clay ready, the sooner we'll have real dishes again.”

  As soon as all the bags were tied up, the trio made their way to the nearby tree-line and hung them up from low hanging branches. This done, Celeste sent Morgan back to her husband while she and Azure went to gather some other materials she wanted. By this time, Robert was already cutting down another tree, Cleo was sitting in the mouth of the cave coding away, and Doc and Vox were waiting on him.

  Vox grabbed up the MCB and led his two companions to the hot-tub chamber. He carefully inspected a vein of iron
ore running through the wall, altered the settings on the device, and made a test cut. Holding the device firmly in his hands, he sliced a line up the wall before changing his angle and cutting back down. Just as he reached the bottom, a wedge of rock fell out of the wall and shattered on the floor.

  “This looks good,” Vox said, inspecting a piece of the stone. “I think we can work with this. Doc, I'd appreciate it if you and Morgan could mine up a few hundred pounds of ore while I'm getting the next part of the process ready.”

  “That shouldn't be a problem,” Doc smiled.

  “I've set the MCB up so that it won't cut meat,” he continued. “So, you won't have to worry about Morgan cutting his fingers off.”

  “I appreciate that,” Doc chuckled.

  “I wouldn't cut my fingers off,” Morgan replied, shaking his head.

  “Better safe than sorry,” Vox chuckled, slapping him on the shoulder and placing the MCB in his hand.

  Perhaps an hour after this, several hundred pounds of iron ore lay on the cavern floor.

  “This thing is amazing, Doc,” Morgan observed, gazing in wonder at the MCB.

  “It certainly is,” he agreed.

  “I figured we'd end up down here swinging away with picks or something.”

  “We might eventually,” Doc replied. “Although we have a great deal of power at our disposal, the car's resources aren't inexhaustible. In fact, the MCB is almost dead.”

  “Is that what that blinking light means?”

  “It is.”

  “You think we have enough ore?”

  “I do.”

  “Can I cut some gold before we stop?”

  “What do you want it for?”

  “I don't know,” he shrugged. “Vox said it makes good electrical wire. Who knows what other uses we may find for it.”

  “I suppose that's true,” Doc nodded. “And, we may as well completely kill the MCB before we recharge it.”

  “That's the spirit,” Morgan said with smile, before beginning to cut a vein of gold ore from the wall.

  In just minutes more, their task was complete, the MCB was dead, and the pair headed out to find Vox. This was easy to do, as he was at the mouth of the cave, working away on the large-scale holo-emitter. Just as Morgan and Doc arrived, he switched it on.

  Instantly, an image formed on the cavern floor. It appeared to be a large crucible, a frame to hold something a few feet above that, and a mold for pouring ingots.

  “Our foundry,” Vox smiled, waving his hand at the illusionary implements.

  “Well, sure,” Morgan chuckled, running his hand through the crucible, “except for the fact that none of it actually exists, of course.”

  “It will,” Vox winked. “You get the ore cut?”

  “We did.”

  “You still need my help, small girl?” he asked, glancing at the green maiden over his shoulder.

  “I don't believe so, thank you,” she replied, not looking up from the computer in her lap.

  “Let's go find my wife,” he said, before turning to lead his companions from the cavern.

  They found both her and Azure sitting on the ground not far from their current home. Each of them had a pile of reeds beside them that they were steadily working away to transform into something far more useful.

  “She was also into basket weaving for a while,” Vox explained with a smile as the three men drew nearer the two ladies. “Can we use these, dear?”

  “You can,” she nodded. “Just try not to tear them up.”

  “That is awesome,” Morgan observed, gazing down at the blue maiden's work.

  “You want to help me?”

  “Absolu...” was as far as he got.

  “He can't,” Vox chuckled. “He's got heavy lifting to do.”

  “Maybe you can help me tonight,” she smiled. “This is something we can easily do after dark.”

  “Absolutely,” he nodded.

  The trio grabbed up three of the baskets the ladies had made and headed back inside the cave. They quickly collected three loads of ore and hauled them back to Vox's fictional foundry.

  “Might as well get started,” Morgan said, approaching the crucible and dumping some of the ore into it. “Oh, no! It just fell on the floor as if your magical melting pot wasn't even there.”

  “It will be,” Vox laughed, emptying his own basket nearby. “Pick that up, would you? We need to keep it all together.”

  Morgan emptied his own basket before cleaning up the mild mess made by his mischief. A few minutes after this, all their ore had been moved to its new location. Vox then told everyone that if they felt that they would need to use the PPSU over the course of the next hour or so, they had better use it immediately. No one had to.

  Having given everyone fair warning, he pulled the force field generator loose from it, hooked it to Cleo's computer, and switched it on.

  “That should do it,” Cleo smiled.

  “Do what?” Morgan asked. “It didn't do anything.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Vox chuckled.

  He then stepped over to the pile of ore, grabbed up a handful, and tossed it in the crucible. The stones stayed inside.

  “So...” the young man said slowly, “you turned the toilet into a foundry?”

  “We sure did,” Vox smiled. “The PPSU uses shaped force fields combined with holograms to make its fixtures. After a bit of thought, I realized we could use its generator to make shaped fields for other uses.”

  “Although,” Cleo replied, “using it to do this is going to eat up a lot more power.”

  “We have it to spare,” Vox assured her. “This is going to save us days – at the very least. If we end up needing more power, I'll rig up a waterwheel hooked to one of the car's generators or something. Either way, let's get going. The quicker we're finished, the more power we can save.”

  While Doc and Morgan began filling the foundry with iron ore, Vox retrieved one of the energy pistols, modified its settings, and mounted it in the frame directly above the crucible. Once all of this was complete, he asked Cleo to fire the weapon. With the press of a button, she caused the framework to pull its trigger, releasing a non-stop stream of metal-melting energy.

  “I need to recharge the...” Robert said as he strode into the chamber. “What's going on?”

  “My little plan,” Vox smiled.

  “How did you build all this so fast?”

  “I didn't,” he replied. “It's all holograms and shaped force fields.”

  “That's going to eat up the power.”

  “It's worth it to save this much time.”

  “I hope you're right,” the traveler said, shaking his head.

  “There's plenty of energy around,” Vox replied. “If we need more, we'll just have to collect it.”

  “That's a fact,” Robert nodded. “Cleo, love, can you turn the hologram off on the crucible?”

  “I got it,” Vox said, stepping over to the holo-emitter and switching it off.

  Instantly, the gun seemed to be hovering in the air above a floating blob of molten metal shaped exactly like the inside of the crucible. This was hard to make out, however, as it was so white hot that it was almost blinding.

  “You might as well pour it,” Robert said. “I don't think it's going to get any more melted than that.”

  “You're probably right,” Vox replied, switching the holo-emitter back on. “Give us a pour, small girl.”

  With several more button presses, Cleo turned off the gun and lifted the crucible into the air. She then tipped it over and began pouring liquified metal into the force field molds.

  “Oh, man,” Vox said, snapping his fingers. “I almost forgot.”

  Having said this, he quickly left the chamber only to return with one of the portable air conditioners. This he sat near the end of the molds before turning it on full-blast.

  “The way small girl set it up,” he explained, “the molds don't block air flow. We should have these bars cooled down enoug
h to set on the floor in less than a minute.”

  He was right. A little less than a minute later, Cleo was able to lower the solid masses to the floor. Some of the bars, Vox explained, were certainly slag and other useless material, but he was confident that a lot of them were mainly made of workable iron.

  “What do we do next?” Morgan asked.

  “A couple of things,” Vox replied. “We might as well smelt the gold while we're at it. Once that's done, we need to make a lot of charcoal.”

  “Charcoal?” Morgan repeated.

  “What we have here,” Robert replied, waving at the glowing bars, “is iron. What Vox wants is steel.”

  “Exactly, boss,” Vox nodded.

  “You and Cleo refine the gold,” the traveler said. “Doc, Morgan, and I can get started on the charcoal.”

  Having said this, Robert set his chainsaw on the charge before leading his helpers back outside. The three of them then started gathering up all the limbs and other useless bits of wood that were byproducts of the plank making process. These, they erected into a rather large pile. By the time they were done with this, Vox joined them, having finished turning ore into gold.

  “Doc,” Robert said, “what did you and Celeste use to dig up that clay?”

  “Our hands,” he explained.

  “I was afraid of that,” he nodded. “We need a shovel or three.”

  “For what?” Morgan asked.

  “We need to bury this wood.”

  “Why?”

  “To make charcoal,” Vox explained.

  “Are you guys like experts on every stage of technology in history?” Morgan asked.

  “No,” Robert laughed. “Why?”

  “How much charcoal do you use in the future?”

  “You mean 'in the present'?”

  “Don't be a jackass,” Morgan replied. “You know what I mean.”

  “Sometimes, we grill with it,” Vox shrugged.

  “You ever make your own?” the young man asked.

  “No,” Vox admitted.

  “Then, how do you know how to do it?”