Jennings' Folly

by Thomas C. Stone

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” said Papaw.

  “You do that,” said the rider, turning his horse around. He waved without looking back. “Take care.”

  “You too,” Papaw said to the man’s back.

  Chapter 8

  When Papaw and Pat and Phineas got home later that evening, they were pretty upset about the attack on the house. Pat immediately went out to search the barn and surrounding property.

  “It’s freezing outside,” said Liza.

  “I know,” he said, “but I’ll feel better if I make sure everything is clear.”

  Phineas went with him while Papaw inspected the damage to the door. After a moment, he straightened up with both knees popping. “She’s done for,” he said, indicating the heavy kitchen door. “We’ll barricade it for the night and I’ll start work on a replacement tomorrow.”

  Liza went about her business, which was preparing hot food for the men and tending to the babies. Papaw turned his attention to the dead lizard on the porch.

  “It doesn’t look the same,” he said to me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This one’s all black. Never seen a black one before. And this critter’s bigger than the others too.” Papaw squatted beside the corpse and lifted the right lead paw or foot or whatever you call it on a lizard. At the end of each one of its six digits was a bony claw that grew from the tip of the phalanges. The claws were sheathed, like a cat’s, but when Papaw pulled back the skin, the stiletto-tipped talon was eight or nine inches long.

  “Were you scared when you saw him?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Listen to me, Mandy. You need to be a little scared of these things so your fear will keep you alert. It’ll keep you watching. Do you understand?”

  “Uh-huh,” I uttered, but I didn’t really.

  Papaw pointed at the tail. “Tail’s thicker and longer and… what’s that?” He lifted the tip and inspected it.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Papaw looked at me and shook his head. “More bad news,” he said. “This ‘un here has a stinger.”

  *

  The following days were filled with activity. Papaw and Kaliis fired up the metal-works out in the barn and made a new kitchen door. “Forged” a new kitchen door is what Papaw called it. The old door was one piece of Dreidelian hard wood, a traditional method, explained Papaw, of covering a portal. “But,” he added, lofting one finger senatorially and with a twinkle in his eye, “I’m an old spacer. I like heavy, metal doors. Give me steel and alloy any day over that ceramic stuff.”

  Kaliis overheard Grandpaw and uncharacteristically offered his opinion on security. “If I may be so bold, sir, as to recommend an alternative, something considerably more durable than steel alloy.”

  “You have an idea?”

  “I do, sir. I believe an energy shield is a common solution.”

  “Well, sure,” said Grandpaw, “but only if you have the energy to run it.”

  “We do. Glaucus has the capability to extract a sliver from the singularity that powers the ship. We could use the sliver to drive a generator with enough power to produce a shield that would protect the entire house, even the entire ranch if we wanted. Plus, it would supply all the electricity you could ever hope to use.”

  “I don’t know,” said Papaw. “The housing for the existing generator is Type II – I don’t think that’s enough shielding.”

  “Shielding can be boosted by reversing polarity on exterior surfaces. We can paint the unit with a conductive coat and control polarity with a rotary switch.”

  Papaw smiled. “Ya think it’ll work?”

  “I am certain of it,” said Kaliis.

  “I think it’s worth a try.”

  Papaw led us into the house and into the kitchen where he sat at the table. Kaliis took a seat, so I did too. Papaw took off his gloves and dug into his pants pocket. “Where is that thing?” he mumbled as he searched. Finally, he pulled out another button, set it on the table, and pressed his thumb upon it. Half a beat later, light emitted and formed an interactive holographic screen (IHS). Papaw poked at the symbols and the display responded by showing other menus. Finally, Grandpaw leaned back. “That should do it.” He winked at me. “Now the fun part. Put your coat back on. We’re going outside again.”

  I scrambled for my coat. “What are we doing?”

  “We need an antenna,” said Papaw. “A relay for our signal to Glaucus.”

  “So how do we make one?”

  “Ah,” said Papaw, “With this.” He held an object between thumb and forefinger. It looked like a fat missile, a bullet, with a flanging rear end. “We shoot this into the air and it takes our radio signal, boosts it, and sends it on. Using this, we can pass messages across the continent without using any co-op global network. We maintain our privacy.”

  By then we were walking out the door but I wondered what Grandpaw meant about privacy and it was not for some years to come before I would fully grasp the concept.

  Papaw instructed me to remain on the porch and he strode to the middle of the yard. He carried a length of pipe and with a mighty heave downward, he thrust one end into the ground so that the other end, the open mouth, faced skyward. It was taller than me, but I wasn’t very tall back then.

  Grandpaw used a sledgehammer to tap the pipe even further into the ground. Then he reached into one of his deep side pockets and drew out the explosive, about the size of a hockey puck. Additionally, it was just the right shape to fit inside the pipe. He fussed with a rotary adjustment on the top of the cake, which is what he called the hockey puck, then dropped it into the tube. Next went the odd, flanged bullet. Papaw returned to the porch and let me do the countdown. I put my fingers in my ears and counted. When I reached three, the pipe exploded with a boom and we watched that missile shoot into the sky propelled by flames and a blast that blew my hair back.

  We returned inside and Kaliis reported that the radio link was up.

  Papaw had to identify himself to the computer program before the device would work for him, but after it connected, it only took a moment before Glaucus answered the silent call. “Good to see you, Mr. Jennings. I pray all is well?”

  “Everything’s fine, Glaucus. And you? The ship?”

  “I am well and the ship is built to last, as you know. Are you settled? Is that why you have contacted me?”

  “We need your assistance,” said Papaw and then he explained that he wanted part of the ship’s fuel to power a new generator. “It would give us the edge we need,” added Papaw.

  Glaucus had no problem with the technical aspect of the job. He even suggested a stealth cargo drone to transport the sliver in a stasis field. “That way, no one will detect delivery and no one will be able to trace my whereabouts.”

  “Good thinking,” said Grandpaw.

  “Now,” said Glaucus, “let’s talk about what you can do for me.”

  Pat came into the room, looked at Aunt Liza and leaned against the door jam, listening.

  “Do you need something, Glaucus?”

  “I do, Mr. Jennings. I need a date for my release so that I may properly arrange my timetable.”

  “Timetable for what, Glaucus?”

  “The exploration of this universe.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “Do you, Mr. Jennings?”

  “Indeed, I do. Well, I can understand your rush to get on with your, er, your life, so to speak, and I agree that we need to come up with a number. It’s not fair for you. So we’ll do that. However, first we must insure our safety in a hostile environment. We’re planning on making Dreidel our home. I want to be certain we’re prepared. I’m sure you understand.”

  There was a pause but finally Glaucus replied, “A powerful energy source should go a long way in preparing your nest. I will extract the sliver and place it in a container that can be “plugged into” your current system, with mod
ifications, of course. Please monitor this frequency and I will pass terminal specifications so you may consider your fittings. Questions?”

  Papaw shook his head in the negative.

  “Very well. Crypto dropping in three, two, one…” and then there was just white noise.

  I missed my friend Glaucus and told Aunt Liza so.

  “I think he likes you too.”

  “Do you miss living on the ship?”

  “No,” said Liza. “I prefer living in this infernal winter than being surrounded by titanium and ceramics and plastic, and smelling my companions’ body odor at every opportunity and…”

  Pat interrupted, “Why don’t you tell us how you really feel?” and I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever heard and I distinctly remember laughing with the grown-ups. Only now do I realize they were laughing at me. But I can’t blame them, really, because it was funny. I would have laughed at me too.

  Liza and Pat and Papaw talked more about Glaucus and the new generator and I don’t know what else because things got cozy and I fell asleep on the couch between Toby and Riley

  *

  The next couple of weeks were spent working on the house and, to some extent, the barn. Liza cleaned and made the bedrooms useable again while Papaw and Kaliis worked on the house system.

  Modern house systems can do practically anything from maintaining an optimum temperature to preparing breakfast. Of course, in a colonial setting, you want the environmental option as well as extended modules for education (pre-K through Masters level), survival, FFS (Food, Farming, and Shelter), and security.

  Kaliis explained to me that he was going to extend the security module to include our new fence. “But it will not be a fence in the traditional sense,” Kaliis told me. “It will be neutral to light, therefore light will pass through it. Not entirely invisible, but opaque.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but Kaliis possessed a pleasant, pedantic manner so I liked it when he shared his thoughts with me.

  “This house has a computer located in the basement. It is connected to wires that run throughout the structure. At the ends of the wires are junctions where either sensors and servos can be “plugged in,” or you can extend the network from those same junctions by adding computers and other networks.” He paused and looked at me. “Are you sure you want to hear all this?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He shrugged and continued. “Our energy source is the key to the continued operation and expansion of the present system, which is, basically a robust, scalable, enterprise. Still, it’s primitive compared to what Mr. Jennings and I have in mind.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “For one thing,” he said, “a virtual school for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes. Mr. Jennings wants you to attend school every day.”

  “I don’t want to,” I informed him.

  “But you must,” he said, “if you are to end up as a reasonably well-adjusted, responsible member of society. And those are secondary reasons, I should think, when it comes to the quickening of intelligent spirit.”

  Papaw had been working nearby, but stopped for a moment to listen.

  Kaliis continued, “Your education arises from your own curiosity and how far you are willing to take it. A proper education for the mind and character consists of not just academic work, but a continuous course of mental discipline as well. Self-discipline must be learned and utilized in order to master techniques, whether those techniques are to be used in higher mathematical computations or in a martial arts demonstration. It’s really all about behavior, Amanda, and your ability to correctly guide your own behavior. Someday you’ll understand that. Your grandfather wants you to grow strong in mind and body, to be certain, but he also desires that you have intellect and the discipline to control it.”

  I nodded gravely. “So,” I said, altering the subject, “Will the computer make it cold in the summer?”

  Papaw laughed and walked over. “As cold as we want,” he said.

  Meanwhile, Uncle Pat spent a considerable amount of time out in the barn. When he asked if I wanted to go out there with him, I told him no, it was too cold.

  “Not with the heater working,” he said.

  And so I ended up following my Uncle Pat, stepping through the snow to the barn.

  The striders were stored inside, but it was a large structure and there was plenty of room remaining.

  Pat located and fired up the heater, which, he explained, wouldn’t go forever without fuel, more petrol, to be exact. Pat remarked that “no one uses petrol anymore.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” said Liza, walking in.

  “Here we go,” returned Pat.

  “Well,” Liza continued. “It’s true. Petrol is still utilized in many places.”

  “It’s a dirty technology.”

  Liza shook her head and called Uncle Pat a “Tree hugger. A victim of political correctness.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Not bloody likely.”

  “Careful with your language around Amanda.”

  Uncle Pat rolled his eyes.

  “I’ve heard it before,” I said.

  “That’s exactly what I mean. Pat, do you see?”

  “Yes, Liza.”

  “All right then. Now. Would you show me the sprayer? What you used on Phineas?”

  “It’s over here,” he said, pointing.

  I watched as he showed Aunt Liza a water well, separate from the well used by the house. It was the source for the sprayer. There was a heater attached to it, Pat explained, and he’d fiddled with it and gotten it to work. “We’ve hot water in the house and in the barn,” Pat said.

  Liza wandered away while Pat talked about what he had done. The barn was immense. Within was a tool room, a corner with a small furnace and bellows (the sprayer was next to it), a feed room, three separate stalls and a large, open, garage area where the striders were sitting with room to spare. Over half the structure was another floor altogether. I could see bales of hay and dark spaces beckoning for exploration.

  Liza opened a door next to the feed room to reveal a space with a bed, a stove, a chair and a desk. Other than that, nothing suggested the space had ever had a tenant.

  “I have an idea,” said Aunt Liza, looking into the room.

  “What is it?”

  “It’ll wait until ya’ll have killed all the lizards in the county.”

  “I think we might have already.”

  That conversation would have continued but a whooshing sound passed overhead, grabbing our attention. I couldn’t imagine what it was. Before we could run to the barn door, it came and went again.

  Once outside, we looked up and saw the drone as it passed a third time. Papaw came out of the house and asked Liza to return while Pat and Papaw went to retrieve the splinter from the drone.

  “Come on,” Papaw said to me, so I went along to see what Glaucus had sent.

  The plane circled a nearby field and when we approached, it made a final pass before landing right in front of us. Like a bird, the wings folded, tucking themselves neatly away as it came to a stop. A hatch popped open and hydraulics pulled it away to reveal a bonanza for the clan. So many items, in fact, Papaw decided we couldn’t get it all in one haul. I didn’t realize how big the aircraft was until I walked up to it.

  “Plus,” said Uncle Pat, “we get to keep the drone.”

  “We can go anywhere we want?”

  Nobody answered as they took a keener interest in the contents than in my questions.

  Grandpaw found the manifest and neither Pat nor Papaw could believe Glaucus had sent so many useful items. Papaw said, “There’s enough here for anybody to live comfortably for a long time. Tools too!”

  “We didn’t even ask him for this stuff,” said Uncle Pat.

  “Ah,” exclaimed Papaw, “here’s the sliver.” He held up a silver box – it looked like a jewelry box for an e
xtra-large ring.

  “Kaliis will want to get to work on this ASAP. Grab something and we’ll head back to the house.”

  “What should I carry?” I asked.

  “Let’s see,” said Papaw, looking at the list, “I remember seeing something here, oh yes, Glaucus sent you a birthday present.”

  I was thrilled but it took us an additional half-hour to find the package from Glaucus. I was a little underwhelmed as the package was small. Like the sliver, it remained unopened until later.

  *

  We walked into the house and Pat told Liza it looked like everything but the kitchen sink was in the drone. “Glaucus came through big time.”

  That brought a smile to Liza’s face. “We better be careful,” she said, “or we’ll end up living like normal people.”

  “What’s normal?” asked Papaw. I don’t think he expected anybody to answer and nobody did. “Let’s get Glaucus on the horn. Something’s not right about this.”

  “Listen to yourself,” Uncle Pat said. “Something good happens and you don’t know how to react.”

  “Maybe so but let’s talk to Glaucus anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  I asked Grandpaw if we were going to make a big noise again. He’d just set the comm-button on the table and brought up the menu. It floated in the air before him awaiting the next command.

  “Yes,” he said, “let’s do that now.” As before, he and I went to the yard with the pipe and the bullet and we set it off, rattling the windows and shaking the snow from tree limbs. We returned to the warmth of the big downstairs room. Papaw went to his holographic display and I went to the fire to warm myself.

  From the kitchen, Liza asked what Glaucus had given me. I had almost forgot!

  “Why don’t you open it?”

  “Can I?”

  “Sure, I guess.”

  “Where is it?”

  As Liza held out the package, Papaw stared intently at the display. Pat stepped beside Papaw. “Something wrong?”

  I took the package from Liza and before I even had the chance to remove the silver wrapping paper. Pat sat heavily beside Grandpaw in the only other vacant chair.