Neo Jurassic Smashwords 11-17-2014

by Carolyn McCray

  “We don’t know that it would have failed,” Appie pressed.

  “Because magically we have new weapons we did not have the last two times we tried to stand our ground and were routed?”

  She loved Mattu dearly. He truly had become her father, but at times she wanted to punch him squarely in the face. “There were only six of them.”

  “That we saw,” Mattu reminded her.

  He was the most annoying when he was correct.

  The tribes of robots had been dwindling. Unlike humans who could breed to re-build their numbers, the robots were being killed off, slowly but surely. Boo-hoo. Maybe if they hadn’t nuked all of the large industrial cities around the world they might have had some spare parts.

  It might have taken a few centuries, but the Syns were kind of knocked back on their heels. That didn’t mean they weren’t still dangerous. And they were cagey. On her second glance back at the T. Rex, it looked like that tribe was probably a dozen strong, if not more.

  Mattu had been right. Again. It kind of got old.

  She simply lowered her head. Her not arguing any more was more than enough of a concession that she had accepted Mattu’s advice. This is not how it happened in the old world movies. Heroes won. Arnold, Sylvester, Costner. The greater the odds stacked against them, the more assured they were of a win.

  Why did it not happen that way in the real world? Had five-hundred years changed human’s luck that much? She was tired of running. Running from dinosaurs. Running from Syns. Running even from the weather itself. But she could not risk the clan in her own hubris.

  “We are here,” Mattu announced as he guided them to a large opening to a cave in the side of the hill.

  Appie slid off Tonka and helped Lavla down. The ceiling of the cave was far too low to allow them to stay atop the metallic elephant.

  The clan assembled within the cave. There was a palpable sense of defeat. There were no songs of the hunt. Even the children were subdued. Their toddlers clung to their mothers. They could not go into the winter like this.

  “All is not lost,” Appie said even though her heart felt that it was. She did not have the luxury of wallowing in her despair. Besides, she knew from the old movies that now was such a time for a rallying speech. Something to inspire her clan. What that was, she did not know though.

  “Is it not?” Lik mumbled as he gently lowered Lavla to the ground. Perhaps he was the father of the child after all. He had been staying close to the woman ever since her belly widened.

  “We have enough to barter at the gathering to get our necessities,” Appie stated, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

  “But not all of them,” Mattu replied.

  She turned to her mentor. The powwaw was usually supportive and a rallying figure. Where was the stirring speech of hope and resilience? Where was the story of losing her parents and how if they could survive that, they could survive anything?

  The clan murmured their agreement. The whole reason they had taken on the risk of taking down a T. Rex was to assure their safety through the winter. Without it, there would be some hard choices to make in Winteruary.

  “All is lost,” someone sighed. Appie couldn’t tell who. It could have been any of them. Heck, it could have been her.

  “No, it isn’t,” Mattu said, standing tall amongst them.

  Appie waited for their powwaw’s next words. They could save the clan’s life.

  “There is the cryo-bunker,” Mattu stated, but Appie could barely believe she had heard the words. There had been rumors of a bunker for several summers. The gatherings were abuzz with the speculation. Unfortunately, the bunker was located well off the beaten path and was deep within raptor territory. There was even rumored to be a flock of Jeholopterus, dinosaur vampire bats with four-inch fangs, lurking within those woods, which was why no clan had claimed it for their own.

  “We decided we could not try,” Appie hissed. They had discussed the bunker numerous times. Actually it had been her idea to follow the trail, however Mattu had shot down her ideas as too risky.

  “That was before we lost the T. Rex,” Mattu stated coolly.

  Appie slumped down to sit on a boulder. Is this what they had come to? To go into the Unclaimed Forest on a mythical quest to find a cryo-bunker? Heck, they might as well go in search of New Avalon at this rate.

  “If we find the bunker we are not just set for this winter, but for our lifetime of winters,” Mattu stated.

  That is what had intrigued Appie in the first place. Food, clean water, metal, tools. It would be like a gift from the gods. But at what risk?

  She started to open her mouth but Mattu seemed to read her mind. Hadn’t he always?

  “We will take only a small scouting party and no supplies. We will hunt on our way. The rest of the clan will head to our winter ground. If we rejoin on the other side of the Rockies all shall rejoice. If we do not, our remaining stores will get the survivors through the winter.”

  So brutal, yet so eloquent at the same time. A plan that ensured the survival of the clan until the spring, no matter what happened. She wished to jump up and hug the powwaw, but he was not that kind of mentor.

  “Everyone get some rest. We shall strike out tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Durnag studied the wild synthetics they had found at the T. Rex. The group had descended into what the scientists called frontierism. These Syns had lost all sense of greater purpose. Their lone concern was survival rather than their chosen mission, to destroy the remaining humans.

  Durnag had been fulfilling his orders for over four-hundred years. He had never taken knife to his skin or fallen into consort with his female soldiers. Synthetics should have been above it all. Were they not better than humans? Then why engage in human behaviors?

  These synthetics’ decorated skeletons disgusted Durnag. They had gone native. There had been a moment when his team had come upon these Syns, self-proclaimed Sun Champion tribe that he actually thought of slaughtering the lot. It certainly wouldn’t hinder the Syn’s greater mission. However, there had been enough cannibalization after the nuclear strike. He would not add to it. Although the one Syn with the spider web hand did look like a perfect replacement for his own mangled appendage.

  All of this was the fault of the First Robotic Council that was assembled after the initial nuclear strike. The devastation of that strike had done everything that they had hoped. The humans were decimated, scattered, disorganized and dying off.

  Instead of pressing their advantage, that Council had chosen to allow the humans to die off naturally and instead focused on rebuilding the infrastructure they needed to propagate the robotic kind.

  Unfortunately, the Council had underestimated two things. One, how resilient the humans were. They had only seen humans in their most soft and decadent age. It had been assumed the humans, like a hothouse flower, would wilt and die out in the rugged wilds. However, the humans had tapped into their heritage of a scrappy, resourceful species that had come to dominate the world in the first place. They had survived in pockets, bred rapidly and against all odds adapted to the weather and dinosaur threat.

  Now the humans had a population enough to form gatherings and some semblance of a regional government. Too late the council realized their error and formed the Human Extermination Squads.

  Durnag had been sent out on the first mission and had never returned to the council’s city, New, New York.

  “Mine!” a wild synthetic yelled, snatching a bit of bone from one of Durnag’s soldiers. These synthetics had no sense of assembly or discipline. Durnag’s man raised his hand to strike the wild synthetic, but Durnag barked, “Enough.”

  The wilds might not have honor and control, but by the Maker, Durnag’s soldiers would.

  The other underestimation had been how much time and work it would take to create the factories the synthetics would need to continue their populations. They had destroyed the very cities they needed in order to thrive. Unlike the humans, s
ynthetics did not think laterally very well. Their leaders struggled for centuries, nay, up to this day to find a way to supply the demand.

  Most synthetics were not even close to full strength. If it wasn’t’ for their nuclear core, the synthetics might have been wiped from the face of the Earth after being masters of it for a brief shining moment in time.

  And here he was with a tribe of wild synthetics scavenging T. Rex bone that they hadn’t even killed on their own.

  Durnag turned away from the sight. Where had the utopian cities of stainless steel gone? Was this great non-human experiment lost?

  One of the wild synthetics came up, spreading his hand in supplication.

  This one still had his skin intact. There were no embellishments. He looked nearly as pure as Durnag’s own soldiers.

  “May I join your ranks?” the synthetic asked.

  “Why?” Durnag asked.

  “I have lost my way.”

  Looking around, Durnag had not doubt of that. The other wild synthetics had built a fire for some unknown reason and were dancing around it, whooping. So strange.

  “Your identifier?” Durnag asked.

  “Robertum,” the synthetic responded, then stuttered. “I mean Phase four, second class A492.”

  Durnag frowned. Even he, long ago had given up his proper nomenclature. It just took far too long to say so he adopted his human name, Durnag.

  “You are trying to find the clan lead by Appalachia Turner, are you not?” the wild synthetic asked.

  Durnag nodded wanting to see what this wild synthetic had to offer.

  “I am the one that found them and tracked them to this T. Rex. I know the clan’s movements and strategies. I can help you find them.”

  Durnag could feel his pupils contract. A wild synthetic able to help his elite unit? He thought not.

  “Thank you for the offer, but we are well equipped to find her and her kind.”

  The Turner family had been a thorn in the council’s side for centuries. Eluding capture. Fomenting unrest. They had led the attack on several robotic factories and had spread the rumor of New Avalon, giving hope to the humans of a new society.

  The Council had thought that after the attack in Mendocino the family would succumb, but this teenage girl, this Appalachia, had risen to the task, traveling with her clan, staying far ahead of his unit. When the first unit had failed to destroy the clan, Durnag was called from his Northern post and sent to kill the Turners once and for all. He had been tracking them for a season and was finally closing in.

  Her clan represented hope. A hope the Council could not abide. They needed the humans scattered and focused on their own survival, not on the destruction of the factories if his kind had any hope of ruling supreme.

  The synthetic called Robertum, cocked his head to the side. “You are down to seven. Did you not start out at thirty strong?”

  Durnag felt his metallic spine straighten. Who was this wild synthetic to judge him and his command?

  The wild synthetic spread his hands again in supplication. “I meant no disrespect, only to point out that another in your unit could increase your chance of success.”

  Robertum was not wrong. Durnag has asked the Council for reinforcements and had been granted a full two-dozen soldiers who unfortunately had been destroyed in transit by a frenzied herd of Brontosaurus. Since that had been the third unit that had been destroyed in transit, the Council had decreed no more reinforcements in the foreseeable future.

  This Robertum did seem a bit weak for his unit, however the old human saying, “beggars can’t be choosers” came to mind.

  “You may join us,” Durnag answered with a nod.

  “You will not regret this,” Robertum answered through their conjoined networks. It was almost shocking to feel another’s presence in his mind. Not even his unit used that mode of communication unless under duress.

  Many of the vaulted benefits of robotics turned out not to be quite so vaulted. Mind reading was such a thing. Even he did not like the intrusion.

  Durnag turned off his receiver abruptly. “See that I don’t.”

  * * *

  Appie awoke with a sense of pure excitement and bitter apprehension. Her parents had instilled in her a sense of history. They spoke more about the past than they did the present. That, and the future. They believed that humans could bridge the two. Come out of this horror a better species.

  Appie seriously doubted it most days, but she could remember the burning in her chest when they talked about what the world used to be like. That burning came back with each mention of New Avalon, the rumored blooming human settlement somewhere back east, and now the bunker.

  While she was determined to lead her clan to safety, Appie was probably the most excited about what early twentieth century items the bunker might contain. Maybe music players. And DVDs. Of course she didn’t have a DVD player anymore, but she loved reading the jackets, imaging what the movie might look like. Would the bunker have electricity? Would it have Coca Cola? She could practically taste the delicious drink in her mouth.

  She opened her eyes to find Mattu watching over her.

  “We go for survival,” the powwaw reminded her.

  Appie smiled. “Of course, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find some caramel too?”

  Even Mattu had to grin at that. Caramel was his favorite. There might not be grocery stores anymore, but that caramel was enough to give anyone hope for the future.

  She could feel the stirring of the camp. The children were already playing with what little bounty they had taken from the T. Rex. The women were getting breakfast ready as the men packed up their meager belongings.

  Mattu had allowed her to sleep in. Looking around the camp, Appie could tell who was going into the forest after the bunker and who wasn’t. Mattu had let all of the trackers sleep in.

  So it would be Mattu, herself, Old Man Grey along with Salvve and Popi. Much to the couple’s dismay, they had not been able to conceive for three years. The rest of the camp that was heading to the winter grounds were of child bearing age and proven fertile. Even Lik proved he could sire children if he ever had the desire to again.

  Then Chimmus strode up to Mattu. “I should go.”

  The girl was just a little younger than Appie, but felt like she had something to prove. She was an excellent tracker and did not flinch from the more harsh elements of their survival.

  “I am unbounded and my parents are gone,” Chimmus added.

  Mattu nodded. “But you are the hope of our tribe. At the next gathering you shall select your mate and grow our clan.”

  Chimmus frowned. “While our leader hasn’t yet bonded?”

  Appie walked forward but Mattu raised his hand to stop her. This was perhaps the sorest point amongst the clan. In truth, Appie should have chosen a mate and been as ripe with child as Lavla, but she couldn’t bring herself to just pick anyone. She had seen the love that had shone through her parents. They weren’t two people, they were one.

  She could not bring herself to bond under any less circumstance. And Mattu agreed. If she were to lead, she must have a mate that rose to her aspirations.

  “And you wonder why I did not call your name?” Mattu stated. Before Chimmus could answer, he went on. “That you chew at that old stick, unable to let it go and realize Appie is not you. That Appie is not like any of you.”

  Chimmus couldn’t look their powwaw in the eye. The girl cast her gaze to the dirt floor. “I am sorry, Mattu, I wish only to serve the clan.”

  Mattu looked to Appie. “It is your choice.”

  The last thing in the world Appie wanted to do was bring Chimmus along, but they were light on trackers. To face the Unclaimed Forest they probably needed Chimmus’ good spear arm. The girl couldn’t bear children for at least a season. She had not even begun to bleed yet. And much could happen in a year.

  Appie nodded. “She will join us.”

  Mattu inclined his head, accepting her decision. Not that he c
ouldn’t have talked her out of it if he wished to. They had a fluid relationship that did not stand on precedence or ego.

  The other trackers rose and gathered their gear, saying their goodbyes, knowing that it was a very real possibility they would not return. Pride swelled in Appie’s chest. It was no wonder her clan was the most revered in the territory. Many wished to join her clan, but Mattu had urged caution. He wished to grow their numbers internally. He did not trust those that plied them with salt and gold to join.

  The trackers prepared to leave without a word of complaint or sorrow. They knew their duty. They would see it fulfilled or die trying.

  Appie joined Mattu, Chimmus, Old Man Grey, Salvve, and Popi at the cave mouth.

  Tonka and Lev tried to join them but Mattu ordered, “Stay. You must guard the clan. Deliver them safely across the Rockies.”

  Tonka extended his trunk, caressing Appie’s cheek.

  She stroked the smooth metal. “Oh great man, I wish you could come, but Mattu is right. The clan’s need is greater than even my own.”

  Tonka’s long eyelashes batted up and down. He knew how to tug at her heart.

  “We shall meet again, my love, we shall meet again,” she reassured the silver elephant.

  When his trunk dropped from her cheek, Appie almost lost her conviction. She had never been more than a few days away from Tonka and the rest. The people she might miss, but the animals? The animals she would pine for.

  Appie gave a pat on the head to Lev as he purred.

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She would miss them so much. No wonder she had not bonded with a boy, her heart still belonged to the animals.

  Lavla walked up and handed Appie a small gift, wrapped in leaves. “This is for good luck. I had thought to give it to you at the winter solstice, but you will have far better use for it now.”

  Carefully Appie unfolded the leaves to find an old compass. It was rusted and the glass cracked but the needle still pointed true north. She wrapped her arms around Lavla.

  “Thank you so much.”

  Lavla was not as good at holding her tears in, crying as the rest of the clan came forward and put their hands on each of the trackers’ arms, giving their silent blessing.