The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books

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The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books Page 91

by John Thornton


  “Sharp as a needle,” Bigelow slapped Jerome’s shoulder. “I told you Lloyd and Erma were quite the couple, did I not? Yes, you are recalling correctly. I thank you for the honor you bestow on me by recalling anything about my meaningless self.”

  Erma looked lovingly at Lloyd. “After the bad times, our parents set up the durhams so as to haul cargo.”

  “Actually it was to haul shipments,” Lloyd chuckled a bit. “Freight going by ship, is a shipment. Freight going in a car, is cargo.”

  Erma smiled widely and laughed as well. “Yes, Lloyd, that is what you have said all these years. Well, then we took over the family business and we transported freight, food, and all manner of things from one end of Beta to the other. There were many shipments. Lloyd arranged a load of donkeys on one boat. Those were the days. Those donkeys almost rocked the boat all the way over, but we got them there sooner than walking the roadways.”

  Lloyd looked up and to the right. “We did move lots of things back in those days. Many a shipment, and nearly all arrived safely, even those stubborn donkeys. Back then things were better. I am thankful our children did not try to keep up our durham business. I told them they needed to be self-sufficient farmers. I knew the old ways would be dying out, but I did not expect the drought. I wanted our offspring to be best suited for the long journey between the stars.”

  Jerome began to say something, but Bigelow elbowed him hard, so he shut up

  “Lloyd was always thinking ahead. Our boy and girl, they have their own families now. Six grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren. Of course, those four all came at one time.” Erma looked sad for a moment, but then smiled widely. “My daughter Teodora raised her children to value life. So when her own daughter, Liza, had those four little ones: Momoka, Aoi, Ichika, and Sakura, well not really very little when they were born, each weighed over three kilograms. Cute as all can be. Just identical they are, turning eight this next birthday.”

  Lloyd looked proud. “Yes, our grandchildren were not going to choose one child and abandon the others, not our family. Children are the ship’s future. My family is not like so many of the generation today.” Lloyd’s eyes looked upward. He pondered for a moment and then went on. “Unlike so many, our family just kept those four little dolls and loved them up. Our great-granddaughters are not leftovers to be thrown out. Not at all. Of course, times were hard, they are hard, and they will be hard. The flight crew knows our space odyssey is a long and difficult trek. The voyage is a hard one, which is true enough for sure. With the severe drought, the boats could not be used. I have not even seen a river-keeper automacube, you know those black and gold colored ones, not for the past number of years anyway.” Lloyd yawned and his eyes sort of glazed over a bit. “Oh but the journey continues, even as the water is rising again. My boats are still here. I have maintained them near the boathouse. I even kept an engineering automacube, E-645, to assist in ensuring each one is watertight and ready. One cannot use an aquatic automacube on land. Well not very effectively can we? We will need E-645 to tote the durham to the edge of the water. I have been watching, and the river has risen. Not enough for shipments or freight, not yet, but I think you could probably get to the sea with an empty durham. I would hate to stand in the way of omiai, courtship, and true love blossoming. So yes, we will help you.”

  “Lloyd, I told you all your hard work keeping those boats ready would pay off a big dividend! Now just think, we are helping an omiai. A young nurse, and a handsome…I am sorry, but I did not catch your profession.” Erma looked at Jerome. “Are you some kind of scholar? That costume is rather unusual. Reminds me of some teachers long ago. They worked in the needle ship, but I was very small then. So a teacher’s robe?”

  “Everyone I work with wears these,” Jerome snapped back.

  Bigelow began to laugh, but it was superficial. He slapped his knee, and sputtering with forced laughter said, “You see, the boy laughs at himself, that is the mark of a real professional. Yes, Erma, you spotted him. Right you are. He is a scholar, specifically an historian with a focus on libraries. Reads all the time. Even recites poetry. Jerome, my young buck, recite for me a love poem.” As he looked at Jerome, Bigelow winked.

  Jerome thought for only a moment, then stated, “See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. Oh that I could be a glove upon that hand. That I might stroke that cheek.” He paused for a moment and seeing Erma and Lloyd nodding, he then continued, “My beloved’s nose is like a wall’s tower, her legs like the cedar trees of the forests. Her hair is like a flowing flock of goats, and her teeth are white as little sheep. You are loved and beloved, my bride. Until the day breathes and the shadows flee, my beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag on the jagged hills.”

  Lloyd hugged Erma close to him. “The boy does have it, yes he does.”

  “A fine sentiment, fine indeed.” Erma hugged Lloyd in reply. “He reminds me of you dearest.”

  “Now to get you your boat,” Lloyd said as he disentangled himself from Erma’s embrace. “The omiai must be supported. A scholar and a nurse, well, well, well. That is a good match for future generations.”

  The elderly couple walked out of their home and along the sidewalk. Jerome and Bigelow followed.

  “Do either of you know Cadet Danuja, also called Danny?” Jerome asked. “He would be about your age.”

  Bigelow covertly punched him in the side, but the elderly couple did not see that.

  “Cadet? Now that is a title I have not heard of for a long while,” Lloyd said. “My parents spoke about things like that. How did you hear about this… Cadet Danny, was it?”

  “It was some scholarly article, I am sure. He reads way too much, as you can tell from his recitation,” Bigelow interjected. “He is always thinking about things, especially as he tries to impress that miss he is courting.” Bigelow glared at Jerome, who shut his mouth and held in his reply.

  “Oh, of course, that makes sense,” Erma said.

  Jerome was not so offended at being called a scholar, but was intrigued with the building they approached. The boathouse was a structure of permalloy having a semicircular cross-section, and looked like a half cylinder lying horizontally. It was four meters wide and fifteen meters long with a three meter radius. Jerome recalled reading something about an ancient war where structures like that were used at military installations around an ocean. The archived image of a vast ocean was etched into Jerome’s mind. If he was remembering correctly, that war was when nuclear weapons had first been used to slaughter whole cities. Yet what was used in that ancient war was nothing compared to the atrocious destruction of the 90 Hours War. Jerome pushed aside the thoughts of nuclear devastation and his inherent fear of radiation, and tried to recall what he had read about this shape of building. He remembered being in school and seeing several antique photographs which the artificial intelligence teachers had reproduced for his age-mates and him to view. The ocean was beautiful, blue, and so big he doubted the image he saw was real. He could not believe that much water had ever been in one place. The picture showed that ocean in the background, and some primitive flying vehicles in the foreground. A strange term, ‘quonset hut’ came to his mind, but he was unsure if that applied to what he was remembering or not. Between the nearly unbelievable view of an ocean, the embryonic flying machines, and the horrors of nuclear bombs, he was unclear if he was remembering correctly. Jerome shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose to refocus his attention on what was happening in the present.

  “Your boats are too big for the boathouse,” Jerome stated as he recognized three unusual looking watercraft sitting alongside the building.

  “True enough. The boathouse is mostly for my tools and storage. The durhams are right here, what remains of our barge fleet,” Lloyd laughed a bit as he pointed. “When I was a child, we had a dozen, and every last one was operating. Now these three are all that remain.” Turning back toward the river he gestured again. “You can see that long trench, well the water used to c
ome all the way up here. Made a nice little dock, but then the drought came.”

  “Lloyd, dear, you are to be commended for keeping the three of them ready to go. I never doubted you and I am so proud of you,” Erma said as she stroked Lloyd’s arm.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. But I see a problem. The durhams are still a good ways from the river’s edge. The water used to come right up to that point. See the trench, wait I think I said that.” He rubbed his temples. “The river has risen considerable amounts just recently, but still very low compared to what it should be. That trench has been dry for many a year. Now, I will need to get that automacube to move one durham down to the water.” He walked into the boathouse through a small door. Soon a large door in the front of the building rolled upward. Then a blue automacube came rolling out from within. It was shiny and marked with the numbers 645 across its front in black outlined by white. Its six drive wheels maneuvered it over toward the parked boats.

  “That is E-645, and still in prime condition,” Erma said with pride. “Lloyd keeps it working well, for just such an occasion.”

  “It will trolley that durham down to the river,” Lloyd said.

  “Those durhams can carry a lot of freight and cargo,” Erma said. “Back in the day it was not only donkeys which we transported. I must tell you sometime about that load of donkeys Lloyd took, they almost rocked the boat over. Well, we did carry all kinds of goods. Yes, many things were shipped by us. Not as fast as a gravity conduit, that is for sure, but we can handle large scale amounts. Straw, hay, bales, livestock, did I tell you about the donkeys we once ported?”

  “Yes, you did. That must have been quite a sight to see,” Bigelow replied.

  “Oh yes, those donkeys riding along, they almost tipped the boat over, they did, but Lloyd got them there faster than they could have walked across,” Erma replied.

  Lloyd tapped a few more commands into the small pad on the back of the automacube, and Jerome watched as the engineering machine set to its task. Lloyd walked alongside of it.

  The boats were more horizontal than vertical, with a slight upward curvature to their length. Both ends rose a bit from the vertical. The front end, the bow, Jerome supposed, was pointed, while the back end, the stern, was flat with a gate which could drop open for loading. They were each about twenty meters long, and seven meters wide. The bottom of the boat somewhat surprised Jerome as it was relatively flat. Jerome remembered pictures and diagrams of boats, and most of those had deep pointed bottoms. The whole height of the boat could not have been more than two meters. He knew nothing about boating, aside from historical books he had read, but he thought the bottom of a boat should be deeper than this was. The sides were straight and parallel until they began to curve to the bow and stern the ends. There was a wheel house, with some primitive controls, on a small pedestal toward the front, the rest of the boat being open. More than anything else, the boat reminded Jerome of an empty rectangular box.

  The automacube was setting small trolleys under the corners of the back of the boat. It would roll next to the boat, then with its manipulation arm it would place a trolley between it and the boat. Then it tipped up the side of the boat and rolled along pressing the trolley beneath. It did this on both back corners. Guide wires connected the two trollies together, and another main wire was spooling out from the automacube. It then rolled around to the bow of the boat, and again, using its manipulation arm, it tipped the boat. The wires were tightened up, so that the main one came out the back of the automacube, and then connected into the wires on the trollies. The wires then snapped with a resounding clack, and became rigid. This formed a triangle underneath the boat lifting it off the ground. The triangular frame had the two rear corners, the trollies, and the apex, the automacube. The drive wheels of the automacube turned and the whole contraption rolled away. The boat slowly moved on its rear trolley wheels, and carried at the bow by the automacube.

  “Lloyd devised those trolleys himself. Perfectly submersible, and versatile. He found the design for that flexible stiffening wire in the automacube’s log. He is so smart! He did that back when the water level was dropping. That was when we lost contact with Reproduction and Fabrication. Lloyd was not bothered so much by that, like others were, but not my Lloyd. He can make anything himself. He told me he knew the river would come back up some day, so he was going to be ready.” Erma nodded proudly at Lloyd who was watching the automacube move the boat. “He never gave up on our durham business. That is my Lloyd.”

  “Well, being that the durham is made from honeycombed permalloy, the whole thing only weighs 300 kilograms. But we want to keep the paint all unmarred and pretty, right sweetheart!” Lloyd called back. “Miss Kay here will keep in service for a long time.”

  “Miss Kay?” Jerome asked. His mind wondered about the rambling nature of the elderly people’s commentary.

  “Yes, after our beloved daughter. She passed on, before…” Erma wept a bit. Lloyd walked over and wrapped an arm about her.

  “Miss Kay was our second daughter, and we miss her to this day.” Lloyd held his wife.

  As the automacube pulled the boat way, Jerome saw on the stern it had a name written in scrolled lettering. ‘Miss Kay’ was in what looked like old-style cursive writing. The automacube pulled the boat, which Lloyd and Erma called a durham, up to the river’s current edge. The water had obviously been rising as some of the weeds and foliage were poking up from the swirling current.

  The automacube pulled the boat alongside the river, and then pivoted it around. With careful motions, the automacube then backed the durham into the water. The trollies sank under the water, not floating at all. The boat rode high on the river, and easily slipped in and gently rose off the submerged trollies. When just the bow was on the river’s edge, the automacube stopped.

  “Well, you two may climb aboard,” Erma said. “My Lloyd has launched the durham, just as good as he ever did. He will never lose his skills, not my Lloyd. Did I tell you he once loaded donkeys? Yes he did. They nearly tipped the boat over, but he got them there faster than if they had walked.”

  Jerome stepped up to Erma and gently touched her arm. “Thank you. How do I pay for this service?”

  “Payment?” Lloyd called over from where he was standing by the automacube. “No payment needed when love is the question. If we can help with an omiai, then we all benefit. Our journey through the stars demands that we cooperate to help the next generations.”

  Erma smiled herself and nodded. “But when you are at the end of the sea, if they have something to send up river to Seron, here, well, you just act as our agent and tell them it is right and good to bring something back for us. It has been many a year since a good transport of freight was hauled up river. Just any old thing will do.”

  “The drought makes the river too low for a real heavy load, but it may be more navigable closer to the sea. So if they do load a shipment keep that in mind,” Lloyd commented. “Do you two know how to operate a durham?”

  “Yes sir, I surely do,” Bigelow responded. “Basically going downriver we just need to steer and that is done by the rudders, and the motor’s propulsion, which looks to me to be powered from the sky tube’s light. Am I correct?”

  “That you are. Floating downstream is easy, just watch for underwater obstacles,” Lloyd replied. “Now coming back upriver you will use the motor, it cycles water through the honeycomb down a central ballast tank in the middle of the hull. That water is propelled out the rear, or to the sides as needed, via the water jet system. The control board is right…”

  “On the command pedestal, yes, I remember,” Bigelow said and walked past Lloyd. “I sincerely appreciate your loaning us this durham. I will make every effort to see that it is returned to you with a load of worthwhile goods.”

  “The best reward would be an invitation to a wedding,” Lloyd said. “The omiai is more important than any shipment.” Lloyd turned to Erma and nodded. “As Erma and I know, having children is the greatest con
tribution that can be made to our future hope. When our children’s children’s children reach the destination planet Tlalocan, that colony will thrive only because of our efforts here now. We have our children and raise them up in the knowledge of that future on that bright and shining planet around the star system, Westerhuis 13. Tlalocan a planet of lush rains, vegetation, it will be peaceful and full of flowers. There we will make planet-fall, and our descendant will dance and dance!”

  “But the Conestoga already…” Jerome began. Again Bigelow jabbed him.

  “Stop poking me!” Jerome snapped in anger and batted Bigelow’s hand away. “Why are you doing that?”

  “These fine people are loaning us their boat, they have no time for more of your stories.” Bigelow glared at Jerome. “Next thing you know he will be telling us about a fictional story he read. Some tall tale about some ancient cosmonaut explorers who flew through space in a flying saucer to get somewhere!” Bigelow then walked over and stepped up onto the small ladder Lloyd had placed against the side of the boat. He climbed up, threw his leg over the rail, and got into the boat. The empty cargo hold was covered by thin planks of permalloy. He called down and gave a bow, “Erma and Lloyd, a huge thank you. Yes, thank you again and again!”

 

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