“How may I help you Caretaker Braden?” The woman’s reflection returned with a welcoming smile.
“Thank the ‘cats in heaven! I’m so glad you returned. I thought I’d lost you. You can call me just Braden.” He didn’t know why the Old Tech had given him the title of Caretaker. There were too many other questions to bother with this one.
“I am here twenty-fours a day and my purpose is to ensure you have a pleasant stay. I will always answer when you call. How may I be of service?” She was so pleasant and Braden felt relieved. He expected that he would spend a great deal of time asking questions.
In his mind, he saw Skirill’s view of a small Javelina running across an opening. The Hawkoid dove on it with a vengeance, snapping the thing’s neck as he hit it. The Hawkoid lifted it into the air as he flew away toward his perch.
“You said that food and water were available. Can you tell me where, please?”
“Yes, it is my pleasure. A fabricator is in your room. It will respond to your voice commands.”
“A fabricator. Sounds great. What is it and how does it work?”
“It converts provided base nutritional packs, both solid and liquid into food and drink items of your choice. The menu is rather substantial as this is a fully functioning rest area.”
“Thank you. I expect that I’ll return shortly. I have more questions.” Braden headed outside, where it seemed much warmer than before. How did they keep that building cool?
Aadi swam along beside him as he approached the first door of the long building. He put his hand on the panel and it flashed green. The door slid open. He looked inside. There was a bed the likes of which only the richest people in Warren Deep enjoyed. He saw a table with chairs, a couch and another large panel of glass. He’d have to ask the reflection at the desk what the panels were for. There was a box above a small counter. There was a metal sink with a metal pipe above it. A door led to a small room at the side. It had a white throne like you’d find in an outhouse. There was more, all shiny white, like the finest pottery. He wasn’t sure where to start, but he had to start somewhere.
“Oh fabricator, I would like some water please.” He looked around to see what would respond.
The box above the counter hummed and there was a beep. He could see a glass inside. He could not see a handle. “How do I get you out of there?” He ran his hands around the box, down the sides and across the front. A depression moved slightly as he brushed it. He pushed in and the box popped open. The front of it was the door.
He reached in and took out the glass with the cool water. He tasted it tentatively. It was water. It tasted good. He felt like a rich man drinking water out of the glass.
“Oh fabricator, I would like a fire roasted venison meat pie, please.”
“Your request is not a menu option. Please select again.”
“Who doesn’t know about venison meat pies? One of the finest delicacies anywhere! Tell me, Mr. Fabricator, what kind of meat do you have?”
“I have a wide variety of beef, chicken, pork, and fish dishes. May I recommend a beef pot pie?”
“Sure. I’ll take that.”
A few heartbeats of humming later and the ding signaling that the food was ready. He looked at a steaming creation in a decorative bowl. He pushed in the depression, opened the door, and took out his lunch.
Braden needed his spoon, which was back in a blanket pack. He hadn’t needed it for weeks. The horses. He needed to turn them loose to drink and eat. He left his lunch on the counter, and raced outside. He and Aadi left to find the rest of their party. They needed to set up for a short stay. He needed to discuss things with Aadi, Skirill, and G-War.
And get a spoon. The beef pot pie smelled good.
53 – Masters of Water
Braden found the ‘cat not far from the main trail. Hillcats were like other cats in that they could eat once a week, but at that feeding, they ate up to one third their body weight. It meant that they were no good for hunting while they digested their massive meals.
The Golden Warrior was in a food coma. Braden could feel his content radiating from the furry body; he left him where he found him beneath the bush.
Skirill sat majestically on a tall tree. Watching all that was happening.
Or he was sleeping. From this distance Braden couldn’t be sure, but figured the latter more likely.
The journey across the Great Desert had been tough on the Hawkoid and the ‘cat. Especially the ‘cat. They deserved to eat well. Braden hoped that the loss of a couple small javelina would not cause any grief. The loss of the mini Beast didn’t seem to bother anyone. Then again, there was no one to bother. He needed to put together all the questions he wanted to ask, and for that, he needed G-War, Skirill, and Aadi.
The questions would have to wait.
He brought the horses to the lake, removed harness and saddle, then hobbled them. The mini Mirror Beasts were no threat. The horses might be afraid of them, but they would have to get over that.
The horses drank deeply from the lake water, then ambled into the bushes in search of grass and weeds.
Braden picked up the ‘cat on the way back to the room. He was distinctly heavier than usual. Braden wondered where the javelina carcass was. He wanted to see how big a kill G-War had made. But he couldn’t find it. The sand had been brushed clean. A mini Mirror Beast had removed the carcass and cleaned the area.
All questions to ask the pleasant woman’s reflection. He would ask about her, too. Who was she?
He didn’t ponder that too long as he arrived at the room. Aadi preferred the outdoors where it was respectably warm. The frigid temperatures of the room were painful for him.
Braden put the cat on the over-stuffed chair and covered him with a towel he found in the side room. Then he dug into his beef pot pie. It tasted funny. The beef didn’t taste like beef at all. The pie crust, gravy, and vegetables hit the spot, though. He ate it all, and even licked the dish clean. There wasn’t anything else to do with it, so he put the dish back in the fabricator. Once the door closed, it disappeared.
He was continually impressed by what the ancients had built. What would his world look like if he didn’t have to hunt or cook?
He went to the side room. He understood that was a room for relief and bathing. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his waste in the bowl of water on the ceramic throne. That made no sense to him, so he determined not to use it. He shut the lid and left it alone. The tub, which, like so many things at this oasis, looked unlike anything he’d seen before. The pipes from the wall looked similar to those from the fountain in the lake.
The ancients were masters of water. He should have figured that from the last two oases. Even here, in this room, he could control the water. He knew what he had to do. He turned one of two knobs above the lower fountainhead and water began to flow. It was cool at first, then hot, too hot to touch. He turned the other knob. The water cooled to an even luke-warm temperature. He turned it back a little and the water warmed pleasantly. He stripped and lowered himself into the tub as the water swirled around him.
He played with the knobs as the water splashed around his legs. He pulled on a small protrusion on the fountainhead itself and the water stopped. He couldn’t push it down easily. Then water burst from the pipe that was higher than his head when standing. He pushed the protrusion down and the water reappeared from the lower fountainhead.
He liked it. On a small counter in the corner were various packets. Dripping as he exited the tub, he looked at them. They were clearly labeled soap and shampoo. He knew about soap, but the liquid shampoo baffled him. Conditioner. No clue.
He returned to the tub, pulling the protrusion so water splashed over his head and down his body. He used the soap and cleaned himself, finally rinsing while standing under the water for a decadent amount of time.
Even though the ancients provided the water in what seemed like an unlimited supply, he was raised to conserve. He turned the knobs and shut the water off.<
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He dried himself with a towel, hanging it over the rack so it would be ready the next time. He was a modern man, who appreciated the finer things in life. He had never had them, but he often dreamed of what it would be like. A successful trader retired to a life of ease, but few were that successful.
He wanted to be one of them and that’s why he was going to continue south, continue to a place where he could find a supply of Old Tech that people wanted. Then he would know the value of wealth.
54 - Feeding
Once cleaned and refreshed, he decided to give the fabricator another go.
“Oh Mr. Fabricator, what do you suggest I should eat now?”
“Many travelers enjoy a lime sherbet with orange slices for a mid-afternoon snack.”
Braden had eaten oranges when he visited the far west region of Warren Deep. He’d even carried some for trade, but they didn’t last long enough to make it where their trade value would have been higher. They were only good for a few turns before they had to be traded.
“Yes. That sounds perfect for one of my station, Mr. Fabricator. Please work your magic and deliver unto me the lime sherbet and orange slices. By the way, what does this cost?”
“There is no cost. The fabricator is provided as a standard rest area service.” The familiar humming returned, followed by the ding. Braden felt his mouth begin watering at the sound. He thought that was an odd response, although his mouth watered while watching a rabbit turning on a spit, too.
He pulled out the dish which looked remarkably similar to that which held his beef pot pie, but this time, there was one large light green snow/ice ball with orange slices arranged around it. He tried an orange slice. It was as he remembered. He savored the flavor and the little bite on his tongue. With his spoon, he tried some of the ice ball, which he figured was the lime sherbet. Tart, but good. He took a big bite. The cold stung his teeth. He swallowed without chewing and it felt like a spear had poked directly into his brain. He threw the dish away from him.
The ‘cat was immediately standing and ready to attack, even though his body may not have fully cooperated. He couldn’t tell if Braden was under attack or not. He sensed nothing in the room except for himself and the human.
“What kind of poison is this?”
“If the guest is displeased with the selection, I will happily provide a replacement. Please return the dish and unconsumed portion to the fabricator for recycling. This unit has determined that the guest would prefer dessert that is not chilled. How about a chocolate brownie?”
The pain in his head quickly went away, while the enticing flavors of the lime and orange remained in his mouth. Maybe the cold was too much. G-War changed positions on the chair, pointing one furry paw toward Braden in his mockery of the one finger wave before lying down to go back to sleep.
“Not sure about the dish. I’ll give you what’s left.” He set the orange slices on the counter as he put the broken pieces of the dish and puddle of lime sherbet into the fabricator. He licked his fingers clean and wiped them dry on his clothes.
The ding. The mouthwatering. He opened the door eagerly to find a small dark brown square. It looked like an odd cake. He tasted a small bite.
It was like a little slice of heaven. He quickly devoured it, then ordered five more. After those, he felt sick to his stomach.
55 – Get Up
Braden laid down on the bed for just a few heartbeats. The bed embraced him like his mother’s arms.
When he awoke, it was dark and Skirill was calling his name in a loud squawk. He opened his sleep fogged mind. “What is it? What happened?”
‘Braden! Master Aadi said that you were within the building, but I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t feel you. I was worried. Are you okay?’
‘Yes, yes. I’m fine. More tired than I thought I was.’ He sat up in bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept that well. ‘What about you? Are you okay?’
‘I feel refreshed after a good meal and a long sleep. I am hungry again, though. The little javelina are more energetic about avoiding me now. They are making it interesting. I will watch them for a while.’
‘I’ll meet you in front of my room in just a few heartbeats. I have something for you.’ He stood up, stretched, and ordered a beef pot pie.
The Hawkoid was hesitant to land on the ground, as he did not trust the mini Mirror Beasts. He balanced precariously on the wayward branch of a small tree. Braden held the dish up to him. Skirill sniffed it cautiously.
“Go ahead, try it. It’s called a beef pot pie. I want to know what you think.”
Skirill jabbed his curved beak into the dish. Braden almost lost his grip on it. He repositioned to hold it better as the Hawkoid jabbed again and again, his beak dripping with gravy while he threw down the bread-like crust and concoction within.
“Hmmm. It isss good. There is no ‘eat in it.” Skirill hissed aloud.
“No meat? I thought it tasted funny. I’ll have to ask about that. Hey! You missed it. There’s this reflection of a woman that appears when I stand in a certain spot in that small building over there. She answers any questions I have. I was going to talk to her for a bit. Is there anything you’d like to know?”
“’irror ‘easts. Are they sa’e?”
“Are the mini Mirror Beasts safe, huh? That’s a good question. I expect she can tell me all about them. Hang on, I’ll be right back.” Braden returned the dish to the fabricator. He considered asking G-War to go with him, but thought better of it. ‘Ass,’ he whispered as he left the room.
56 – Puke
Braden stood in front of the desk and on cue, the reflected image of the smiling lady appeared.
“Good evening. How may I help you Braden?”
“Good evening to you, too. I have to say that your bed is the most comfortable I’ve ever slept in. By the way, how much will this cost? I have platinum, gold, silver, and saffrimander I can trade.”
“There is no cost for the use of the Rest Area. All travelers are welcome.”
“When’s the last time you had a traveler?” Braden asked without thinking.
“You are our first traveler since this station came online two hundred seventy-four years, six months and two days ago.”
“What’s a year?” Braden suspected he knew what the measures of time were.
“A year is the time it takes for the Planet Cygnus VII to make one complete rotation around the sun Cygnus Prime.”
“A cycle of the seasons. You call it a year. Summer to summer. And a month? A day?”
“There are twelve months in one year. A day is the time it takes for planet Cygnus VII to complete one full rotation.”
“A day. Where the sun sleeps each night. We call it a turn of the sun, or just turn. Thank you, but you talked about Cygnus, what, seven? Cygnus Prime? Are you talking about Vii?” Braden asked, his curiosity piqued.
“We are on planet Cygnus Seven, written Vee Eye Eye, which is a pre-space numbering system to designate the number seven. Cygnus Prime is the star around which the planets rotate.”
“Planet Vii. I got it. There are other planets?”
“There are eight planets in this solar system, two of which are capable of supporting life,” the pleasant voice answered.
“We aren’t alone? I thought the only people on Vii lived in Warren Deep.”
“The latest census data I have is nearly four hundred years old. At that time there were more than one hundred thousand people on Cygnus VII, or Vii as you call it. There were two thousand people living on Cygnus VI. Cygnus Six, that is.”
“Wow. I didn’t know. No one knows that. Are they still there? Are there people on Cygnus Six?”
“I am afraid that my data is nearly four hundred years old. I cannot confirm their continued existence, reduction or growth in population,” the reflection said with a slight hint of sadness.
‘Ask about the Mirror Beasts,’ Skirill interjected as Braden was thinking about the enormity of it all.
“I was lost there for a second. Are these mini Mirror Beasts dangerous? What do they do?”
“I don’t understand the question. What are the mini-Mirror Beasts?”
“Those metal things moving around. They look like they are man-made.”
“Those are the standard complement of Maintenance Bots. They maintain this facility. They are not dangerous. Each has a number of tasks that it performs to ensure that the rest area is always in peak operating condition. As a matter of fact, right now, a Service Bot is making your bed and cleaning your room.”
“My room? Oh no! G-War.” Braden bolted from the office. The battle cry of a Hillcat pierced the dark of the evening. Soft lights from hidden torches showed the area, but Braden didn’t think about that. He was focused on keeping his friend from getting hurt.
The door to the room stood open, and Braden rushed through it. He was greeted by the screeching sound of claws on steel. “G! They’re safe. It’s safe. It’s not attacking.” Without thinking, Braden grabbed two handfuls of the ‘cat and pulled him from the top of the Server Bot.
The ‘cat turned in a flash, eyes wide, claws out, ready to rake across the human’s face and throat. Braden froze.
“G. It’s okay. Look at me. It’s okay,” Braden reassured the ‘cat. G-War stopped struggling.
‘Put me down,’ he said, anger boiling just beneath the surface.
“I didn’t know they were coming in, G,” Braden said as he put the ‘cat gently on the floor. “This one is a Server Bot, and the other ones are Maintenance Bots. The ancients built them to maintain the oasis. They aren’t dangerous.”
‘Fine. Hold on.’ The ‘cat started heaving and puked the remainder of his javelina onto the floor. Licking his ‘cat lips after finishing, he added, ‘Have that cleaned up before I return.’
Braden looked at the Server Bot, which had returned to its work making the bed. Two long tendril like arms deftly pulled the sheets and blanket tight, fluffing the pillow before moving toward the counter area. The ‘cat walked slowly, head and tail high as he left the room.
The Free Trader of Warren Deep (Free Trader Series Book 1) Page 14