What Exactly Is Reality?

by D.P. Allen

  Some areas were fairly solid and didn’t require much filling, but other areas required deep pools to be filled and at one point the box had to retreat a few feet while the conveyor belt filled in what had to be a good sized pool of quicksand.

  The withdrawal to start a new row took about an hour, only because teams of “guinea pigs” were used to pull and turn the box and conveyor assemblies. In a day from sun up to sundown, they were able to construct almost 2 complete 10’ by 200’ rows. At this rate, it would take 150 days to do the job.

  The next day as Mike arrived on the job site, he found three additional crews with all of their equipment. Now they were able to place the four boxes side by side and while the box on the left removed the temporary wall and the box on the right placed the new temporary wall, the four boxes abreast crawled forward with six conveyors now dumping dirt almost as fast as the boxes could crawl forward.

  The conveyors were now being fed by an almost solid line of dirt-laden carts coming from 8 of the scoops extending over the west wall. The wall of rollers seemed to be much more intimidating to the local fauna as only one snake had to be killed.

  They would soon reach an area where there was much higher and more solid ground. This would require less filling and speed things up even more. By the end of the second day they had finished 16 more rows, with the next few days promising even more before they reached the next section of deeper marsh.

  The two day total was 200’ by almost 180’ completed. At this rate, it would take about 18 more days to complete. These folk certainly did know how to increase production.

  Twenty days after the slow beginning, farmers began planting. Some of the areas were intentionally left lower so that rice paddies could be introduced, while others were being planted in grass for grazing.

  Plans were already under way to decide where to expand more, but the dredging for this project’s fill soil had exhausted the easily reached areas from within the walls. The proposed ideas were to find a way to construct barges to carry fill from further into the marshes, to mine some of the hills up river and transport the soil through channels constructed around the rapids and waterfalls or to mine along the north road where it crossed high ground.

  Mike didn’t like the idea of easy waterways around the natural defenses created by the river from a security standpoint. It would require fortifications to defend against an inland water invasion and it would be dangerous to have work camps away from the city along a land route that they knew was usable by the Spaniards.

  All of this was tabled until later when the food production guild informed the council that they were going to be hard pressed to work the existing land with their existing manpower.

  Chapter 33

  Attention K Mart shoppers.

  Prosperity was upon them and they could smell it. The goal of the elders was to make the city truly self-sufficient and to establish sufficient surplus to encourage the other cities to want to trade. There was some concern that they were now making themselves an even more appealing target for envious neighbors.

  Having set the first priority months ago as defense, they were certain that they could defend against anything. They were enjoying peace and would avoid war if possible, but they would not give up what they had fought and worked so hard to develop.

  Mike could see a problem looming. The people of the other cities who could escape would probably do so as they found out that there was a place to escape to and that the roads were usable. Mike wished he knew exactly which roads were usable and to where they connected. There didn’t even seem to be a map or any information available as to where the roads actually went.

  They knew that the north road connected somehow to ‘Acon as the Spaniards had used it and the three wounded prisoners had said they had marched here from ‘Acon, passing through the other two cities on the coast enroute. Until their affirmation, Mike hadn’t known if the Spaniards had been able to use the road all of the way here or had traveled by boat to one of the closer cities and then used the road the rest of the way.

  If his old highway maps could be believed, the north road was actually old I-75 that did in fact run through those towns and then up through Atlanta. This was only speculation and he knew that to assume something was to ask for trouble.

  Then there was the fate of Allas and his ilk, who had headed north, but not been seen since. The wounded soldiers had never heard of them and Mike knew that in these small cities that word traveled very quickly. Had the exiled group been eaten by the marsh creatures, their belongings would have been found along the road, but the soldiers had said that the road was completely empty and looked unused all of the way from Acon.

  The force had passed several places where the road split and other roads went inland. One was not very far north of Tif’n and was south of the first of the Spaniard controlled cities to the north, Corde’.

  Mike checked his highway map slash new world map and wondered about perhaps following old US 280 to Americus or even further to Columbus? He needed a good recon. Maybe with things as they now stood around Tif’n he could get out on horseback for a look around. He knew he couldn’t without the Protectors, but they couldn’t keep up with a horse, even though Mike was only a novice rider. The carts were too slow for this type of operation. Mike had a thought and called for Marcel.

  Marcel he asked, do you have any idea how many of the riding goats there are in Tif’n?

  Marcel answered, The Royals kept many here that they had to abandon when the deus came. The deus ate some, but there should be close to 100 in the pastures. Why?

  Do you think you and the other Protectors could learn to ride them?

  Marcel's eyes opened a little wider as he asked, How far would we need to ride them?

  I was thinking of perhaps a little excursion along the north road and perhaps some of the side roads from it, said Mike. How long do you think it will take you to be ready?

  Marcel answered with a smile, When would you like to leave?

  Mike said, Let me guess, you’ve been learning to ride them in secret just in case?

  Marcel said with a smile, When I saw that you knew how to control the horse, I knew it would be a very short time before you decided to use it to see what was on the other side of the hills. There weren’t enough horses for the Protectors and you know that none would be left behind, so we started learning how to ride mounts. We’ve all hidden many bruises from you over the past weeks, but everyone is capable enough now. When do we leave and what should we carry?

  Mike said, That will depend on the elders. I’m sure they’ll not want me going off, but I’m sure I can convince them of how important it is to know what is going on around us. I’d say we’d pack for a couple of weeks and try to leave within a week.

  The Protectors will be ready when you are. It didn’t take as much arguing as Mike expected. The Elders were very explicit though that if the group ran into any type of trouble they were to return immediately.

  The group was given the word that they would leave the next morning at sun up. Everyone was to carry all they needed on their animals, so travel light. Pack animals would slow them down, so would not be available

  .

  That evening there was a light knock on his door and Mir’ami appeared. Mike asked how he could help her to which she replied, Silly man you know how you could help me anytime you wanted. She laughed and held up her hand when he started to protest.

  That isn’t why I’m here, although? she said with a sigh and seeing Mike’s flustered appearance she laughed that musical laugh she had. No, I’ll want you to have your full attention on me, not having to share you with the planning of some man thing. The girls and I are worried that you might take too many chances while away from the city, so we talked to the clothing guildsmen and had them make you something that will we hope keep you safe.

  With that, the other two girls entered with a strange looking set of clothes. The guildsmen had tailored the skin of a gat into a jacket and pants
. The Jacket had a hood of gat hide that had a mask attached so that the only parts of Mike that would be exposed were his eyes, a slit in front of his mouth and some small slits by his ears and nose.

  They had not included gloves, probably because the hide wasn’t flexible enough to allow finger movement. There were high-topped boots also of gat hide. All appeared to be lined with a soft fur or hair, probably from the “guinea pigs”. It looked like it was cut for comfort as well as protection. He assumed it was protected against insects as well.

  Before he could ask, Mir’ami said, It’s only fitting that you should have this as it’s made from the beast you killed that sad day long ago when Talle died. It should fit as we’ve been very careful to get your measurements correct. The other girls giggled at this.

  When Mike raised an eyebrow at her she responded, No, we didn’t sneak in while you were sleeping and measure you, although that sneaking in while you’re asleep might prove interesting. With a sultry chuckle she continued, We measured your clothes and watched the way they fit you and measured your shoes for the boots. Would you like to try it on now or do we have to leave first? This time all three giggled.

  Mike said, I can tell you right now that it won’t fit if you stay and watch me try it on. The crotch will be way too tight.

  The three women laughed at that and said they’d wait outside and would be expecting him to model it for them?

  They left and Mike found that they had been very good at figuring his size. The heavy hide hung exactly as it should and didn’t seem to chafe anywhere. The pants fit nicely into the boots and had a velcro like material fly as well as a permanently attached belt affair for front securement. Smaller belt assemblies on either side would work quite well for holding his pistol holster and survival knife scabbard.

  The jacket was a combination shirt and jacket cut similar to his cammo shirts except in a pull over style and long enough to keep out drafts. Some strips of the velcro like material secured it to his pants in almost a one-piece jumpsuit style.

  It had cut outs with light weight flaps where his pistol and knife would be. The flaps gave weather protection but moved out of the way easily to provide quick access to the weapons. It also had high and low flapped pockets with more of the velcro type material The lower ones were a perfect place to carry extra speed loaders for his pistol on one side and a rolled up bandolier of .308 for his bolt action rifle in the other.

  The gator hide was actually several layers thick over his vulnerable areas, telling him that someone who knew the human body had a say in the design. The crotch was also reinforced and he could imagine the “girls” giggling as they tried to decide how much protection he should have there!

  The garment was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It also seemed to breathe, so shouldn’t get too hot and should keep him warm in cold weather with its thin layer of fur. He assumed that any seams were waterproofed to match the hide’s capabilities.

  In all a fantastic bit of work. He stood in front of a mirror and examined himself. He then reached into a shelf and picked up his leather shooting gloves. With them, he was protected fairly well from anything short of a major weapon strike.

  One thing he knew for sure was that the Royals would think twice before messing with this strange creature and their lances and the crossbow bolts in common use would have trouble penetrating his now very tough hide.

  With a last look and pull to arrange things, he went out into the next room to be oohed and ahed at by the women. He thanked them and promised to bring both of his hides back in one piece.

  The next morning he expected his appearance would shake up a few people. What he didn’t know was that they had a few surprises for him as well.

  Chapter 34

  All dressed up and everyplace to go.

  Morning came and before the sun was up Mike was in the stable saddling the horse that had belonged to the Spaniard commander. The previous day he had acquired a stiff brush and curried the stallion from end to end making a friend of the four-legged gray giant.

  He had reworked the saddle somewhat, removing much of the filthy fabric and cleaning the wood and leather. He had been given some very nicely made pads to use in place of saddle blankets and a container of the insect repellent to brush into the horse’s hair.

  He had noticed that his new boots had a slight point to the toe as if they were designed to fit a stirrup. Were there no secrets to be kept from those women? He was surprised not to find spur slots cut in the boots, although he didn’t have any, choosing instead to leave the dead Spaniard’s spurs with the body. He seemed to remember that they were a sign of nobility or something like that among the people of that era.

  As the sun rose, he mounted and rode out to the field by the city gate, which was the chosen assembly point as the mounts were kept there. He noticed as he went into the sunlight that there were three small ribbons tied around the saddle horn. One in each of the colors of the thin dresses that the women wore while in their rooms. Talismans for good luck or just reminders that their thoughts were with him? Mike didn’t know, but it was a nice thought on their part. He noticed that they weren’t visible, but he was sure they watched him depart. He said to the wind, “Thank you my ever thoughtful friends. I will miss you too.

  The back of his saddle was loaded with food courtesy of the women and a waterproof piece of cloth that could be used as a ground cover, poncho or tent as the need arose. There was some rope, his gun cleaning supplies, binoculars, digital camera to document anything interesting and what looked like a small medical kit.

  A hide covered wooden canteen hanging from the left front of his saddle contained drinking water. The quality of the local river water told Mike that drinking water would not be a concern, so he decided a large supply need not be carried.

  He had attached a scabbard for his .308 so that the butt protruded behind his saddle on the right side and carried his Sten slung across his back. Plenty of ammunition was in bags in easy reach, bandoliers of .308 and loaded Sten mags as well as a box of ammunition for his .357.

  His magnum was in its customary place in a nylon holster on his right hip, secured by one of the perfectly positioned mini belts built into his armor and several speed loaders were in his right lower jacket pocket. His survival knife balanced the pistol on his left hip.

  The Spanish sword stuck out of its scabbard on the left side of the saddle horn as a “just in case” weapon. He didn’t expect to use it and wouldn’t want to try sword fighting with a Spaniard. The closest he had ever been to a sword before was in saber drill in his officer training course. He had almost taken off his own ear a few times then and that was only formal drill and ceremony moves.

  He finally reached the meeting place and found what had to be most of the population of the city assembled there. The crowd stared and more than one person backed away in awe as the monster on the giant prancing horse arrived. He was glad that he had the hood and face mask folded back out of the way, or he probably would have caused a panic. He could see his protectors already mounted and from the looks of the saddlebags, well supplied too.

  When he got close, he noticed something that got his attention. Marcel had his carbine slung across his back as usual and now sported a row of pouches each capable of holding a box of ammunition and a small knife on his belt. He was not what caught Mike’s attention though. It was the other “Protectors”. Each was equipped identically to Marcel. This included each having his own carbine slung on his back.

  Marcel looked at what had caught Mike’s attention and said, Our craftsmen can duplicate about anything given a sample and enough time. Didn’t they mention that to you?

  Mike said, No, I think they forgot to mention that little fact. Do they work and if so, how much ammunition do they have?

  Marcel responded that the ammunition was actually the easiest to make, so they each had 20 boxes of 50 rounds. The smaller the item the easier it is for our craftsmen to reproduce. They have all been tested and work flawlessly. My n
ext question is are they going to be able to produce quantities for the Watchers as well?

  To that Marcel smiled and said Already begun. They will start training with them today and yes, there will be enough for the Defenders by the time we return as well as more gunpowder for the cannons. Oh, and the craftsmen want to borrow your STEN when we get back. They think they could mount them on some sort of stand so that we “normal” sized folk could fire them.

  Mike said, I could probably use some more ammunition if they can fit that into their schedule and there may be some other items on my boat that the citizens could use as well, some of my supplies are also running low, so I could use some replacements. I wonder how they’d react if I gave them my marine band radio, a battery and the pieces of the wind generator to duplicate.

  It would be a great asset to have radio communications between the defense forces, but that’s just wishful thinking. As fantastic as their duplication of the rifle and ammunition were, that was nothing compared to the technologies and complexities involved in a solid state electronic device.

  He thought that it was too bad he didn’t have an M-60 machine gun. A few of those would really give some firepower mounted on carts so the local folk could use them without being crushed by the recoil. Of course a tank or two would be nicer and about as easily obtained.

  He realized that he needed some serious questions answered as to how they came up with the right everything to copy unknown technologies in such a short time. This was more like magic than workmanship. He needed to find a way to explore the guildsman “factories”.

  Mike wanted a closer look at the copied carbines at the earliest chance. They looked identical from a distance right down to the butchery he had done to the stock and butt plate. Surely a craftsman would have prettied those parts up.

  He thought for a second and asked, Have you gentlemen fired your carbines from the backs of your mounts? Animals tend to go crazy if they aren’t trained to ignore the loud noise.

  Marcel said with a grimace, We tried that and found that the mounts got used to the shooting very quickly. The first few times surprised the mounts, who in turn surprised the riders and several nasty bruises occurred before we got them calmed down.