by Marcus Sloss
I entered the pen and sat in Onix’s nest of straw. The big lug curled around me. I folded into his fur.
“Eric, don’t you dare get attached,” Perci said with a sour look. Sour might be a bit harsh, but she knew I was a sucker for pets. “We have only one viable aircraft. We need more of them. I want to open up trade with my Mom.”
“Yeah, arriving in the airship carrier might be fine, though. We are working off too much information in here and not enough data out there,” I complained.
“Because we only get one day in here and eleven more out there,” Perci said, folding her arms under her amazing breasts. She scrubbed at her face. “My mood is swinging all over the damn place. This market is making me tired.” I groaned. “Yep,” she chuckled, “here comes a yawn.”
“For once, close those lips before—” I yawned too. Damnit.
Roarson returned with a stern look. “The grand market is not real, you know. It uses your own energy to power your generated body about the station. At least, that is what our scientists theorize.” His toothy maw reared open in a yawn, too. “Even those of us who stay here the entire market, we get sleepy too. Even those creatures who don’t normally require sleep note how the market leaves them feeling exhausted,” Roarson said, returning to stand a short distance from my comfy spot. He folded his massive arms and gazed down his snout at me. “I like you, Cap, but you need to understand that talking in my place of business is not private if I am not around. So, I might offend you here, and if I do, good. You deserve it.”
I snorted, unaffected by his warning. “By all means, go ahead.”
“Your man was right. My transports are great for a cozy ride in friendly territory or a golden day on an Xgate you know is secure. I agree with this Blob creature, though, buy something fancy for raiding.” Roarson sent the information about his used haulers to my translator. I was not offended in the least that he had overheard our conversation. I synced the data to my Gpad and fired it off to Torrez. “Seasons is a term we use for blue portals. Nothing more, nothing less. You pay much more attention to the ones you survive before you sufficiently fortify your bases. You’ll count them less when you are as safe as you can be.”
Torrez rang. I answered.
“Did you look at these?” Torrez asked.
“Nope.”
“Cheap and reliant, but there are only two. Still, we should get them to use as materiel or people haulers, if nothing else. It would certainly make golden market days easier,” Torrez said. “Well, moving anything would be easier.”
“What about the carrier?” I replied.
“Redundancy. This gives us more options, and we are expanding, boss. I can probably modify these with another golden portal … I wouldn’t raid with them unless we knew for sure we were safe, too,” Torrez said after a pause.
“Okay, I will buy them. But that means a change of plans with respect to the dropships: I am investing the rest of our capital in food production. I am tired of green Ramoth eggs and Yexin. We will get some super dropships next golden portal.” I paused, another yawn cracking my jaw. “Then, I am going to play with our new toys after taking a nap to recover from this market. Thanks for your hard work, Torrez. Cap out,” I said, closing the connection.
“I will take Onix, your ducks, your chickens, more slongers, these ramoth, those pig animals, and both animal haulers,” I said confidently from my cozy spot.
“You have oxygen on your planet?” Roarson queried, “We have sixty percent on ours.”
“Twenty-something percent, but we have thousands of generators,” I replied with a wave of my hand.
“Twenty-one percent,” Perci said smartly.
I crawled away from my super-sized purring pillow, before climbing to my feet. I was ready to deal with the mess on Earth.
“You might be fine with just the oxygen generators, but I would toss a third nitrogen generator in, if I were you. Here is the bill. I will take zinc if that is what you're using. Imagine my surprise when my den leader asked for zinc, though I have no clue why zinc this time and not neilspar,” Roarson said, with a friendly smile.
I signed the contract he sent and began walking towards the exit lift. We carried on small talk and I wished him a good season.
When I arrived at our storage container, I groaned. I would not be taking a nap anytime soon, unless I went and hid from all the work that had piled up here.
There were hundreds of tanks still in the storage unit. It looked like none of the gravity sleds for hauling items had been removed. Seventy-two Pandarin stood in one corner, looking around at all the confusion. Everly rushed to them even as our storage space expanded again. Rows of machinery dropped into the once-vacant space. More rows of something that resembled a machine press, and then a series of spindle presses. The interior of this place was beyond chaotic. I watched as the bulky new animal haulers arrived. The animals that showed up right after the haulers walked right into the transports, out of habit.
“Come, here is the transport. I am told that if you fly it towards the gate, even a few inches, it will zap us out,” Perci said, motioning me towards a dented metallic container on a grav sled. “See, Everly is loading the first of the Pandarin in the back, with some of our new livestock.”
The animal-hauling airship had short wings, a wide loading ramp, and a compartment for the crew on the bridge. The entire aircraft, if you could call it that, was a hundred feet long, fifty feet wide, and fifty feet tall, with only the single wide entry ramp at the rear for either animals or crew. There were no cool folding-down side doors or platforms that brought you from A to B. Just the rear ramp. I now understood why Torrez’s first question was if I had inspected this thing. It suddenly made sense why Torrez was underwhelmed by the design’s simplicity. This ‘aircraft’ was a box on an overpowered grav sled.
When we arrived at the top of the ramp, the stench hit us. The smell came not from the animals already crowded inside. No, the floor reeked with a permeating stench of awfulness. I gagged. No wonder Roarson sold this to us. I jogged past the animals, with Everly and Perci hot on my heels. I ran up an interior ramp six feet wide and came to a door. I pulled it open, ducked into the doorway, and then slammed the door shut the moment the girls were inside.
“Oh, hey, how did you know it wouldn’t reek of festering shit in here?” Perci asked, her nose still pinched. Yeah, that door did little to spare us from the smell out there.
The crew’s cabin had no seats—this was bullshit. There was, however, a four-foot-tall podium that sported a half-circle of stations with interfaces. That was the only item to be found in the drab green, spartan interior. At least an expansive viewing window let you see clearly to the front, left, and right.
“I didn’t have a clue whether or not the cabin stank. I prayed the last crew was smart enough to keep the stench out. Perci, you're the gadget guru. Get us home,” I ordered, pointing at the control station. “Everly, are all the Pandarin aboard?”
“Aye, Cap,” she nodded, “they are loaded up.”
Perci walked over to a station at the podium with an interface display. “Sealing the ramp, now,” she reported. “I show Torrez in Air Transport B, sealing his doors too. Hold on, please, otherwise your martini this round might be shaken, not stirred.” A few clicks and clacks later, and we shuddered off the ground, not smooth but not too rough. “Okay, going forward.” Perci guided towards the shimmering golden portal at the end of our storage bay.
The cascading light filled the viewport, and I was excited to be heading back home.
CHAPTER 5
The evening sunset cut across the streaking clouds in brilliant oranges and pinks. My hand blocked out the fading light, and I grinned at what I saw. I had expected confusion and disarray much like the storage bay, but saw that the community buzzed around the outside of the gate in a more controlled form of chaos. We exited out the east gate, about thirty feet off the ground.
In a clearing to the southwest, I could see a swarm of the small, agile 63 tanks
coordinating their maneuvers. The rapid vehicles played bumper cars, on occasion, but most executed their turns with a semblance of cohesion. When they fired a volley, a teal spray of energy crashed into the offending section of trees. A few shots went high, low, left, and right, but the majority of them hit their marks. The result was still encouraging, shredded trees popped and fizzled, with a few erupting into flame. I tucked in a quick elbow pump at the awesome display. Around the area, I counted a dozen of these small formations, practicing in every bit of open space they could find.
To the left of the light 63 tanks sat their big brothers, the heavy behemoths. I changed their designation to TG99 and set the 63s’ designation to TP63. This would help us better organize our tactics and bring clarity to my orders. T for tank. (G)round or (P)ersonal for the model types, with the number designating each specific model.
The TG99s tried to form a battle line. Behind the line, a separate TG99 towed a large shield generator. Though not as big as the shield the Lurrol had used, the towed shield generator was still so bulky that it barely fit onto its sled; my mind immediately wondered how powerful this shield was. The heavy tanks had trouble keeping their formation together, but valiantly tried to move as one. As they hovered forwards, trees were blasted skywards as the poor pines met the shield’s barrier. The maneuver was methodical, even, and organized. I noted such tactics were great for getting to a battle, but may not be adequate for the chaos of combat. I tried to keep in mind that you had to crawl before you walked, and walk before you ran; we were focusing on the crawling aspect first.
The western portal was behind me, I could see a long line of trucks curving from north to south as they were driven into the blue portal. Drivers ran back out of the west gate, crossing directly beneath us. A new tank was then driven out and loaded into the AC1, as I had labeled our aircraft carrier. The buzz of work was constant, with people jogging everywhere.
AC1 was a massive pizza box of metal. Generators dotted the top of the carrier, with huge fans circulate air through the large craft. There were ramps everywhere on this machine. A tower shot from the middle of the box to give the crew a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view around the aircraft. I propped my chin in my hand to study the design. It reminded me of an airport control tower on top of a flat hangar. I wondered how much this machine must weigh; the power requirements to fuel the anti-gravity generators had to be insane to keep it off the ground. I frowned, realizing the towering container was so massive, it would not fit inside our hesco walled valley. We’d have to park it in the cleared fields outside the walls that we had recently planted. I could only hope it would not ruin the fields. Assuming the only parts of it that ever touched the ground were the ramps on each side, we should be able to manage things.
The generators, extra tanks, cranes, and mecha suits piled into AC1 from every angle. The ebb and flow of my people running from one side of the portal to the other defied organization. Our view of the confusion was amazing, hovering as we were thirty feet in the air over hundreds of Crixxi and Humans, all too busy to look up at us. I knew someone would notice us before long, however, and word would get out that I was outside. Right on cue, Jevon called.
“Six ,this is five, over,” Jevon’s gruff tone barked from my Gpad.
“Go for six,” I replied
I felt a nudge from behind and the aircraft shook. “Shit!” Perci blurted, “Torrez just exited and we kissed bumpers. I need to keep us moving if we don’t want to cause an accident on our first ride.” She tapped at her display, “Heading home.”
Her squawk distracted me from what Jevon was saying. “Five this is six, say again,” I said. I tried to focus on his words.
“I have unit commanders working through basic drills. No sense in not giving them a break soon. In half an hour, I am going to switch everyone over to transporting goods and supplies home, once we remove all those trailers from the storage chamber. I have command,” Jevon said.
I smiled, knowing things were in good hands. “You have command, I’m heading home. Please ensure everyone who has filtered in and out of the portal gets a nap. The golden portal drains your own energy to create your avatar in the grand market, we had a theory about that confirmed today.”
Jevon keyed the mic, but then paused, “Understood … when you get back, we’ll need to re-sort team assignments and make some promotions. I will have a list prepared. Have a safe flight. Five out,” Jevon said, closing the connection.
Perci flipped her hair over her shoulder, looking to me for guidance. I gave a nod and our AH1 soared forward.
“I want to call this girl, Lexi,” Perci said hesitantly, though with her chin held high. Almost as if she were testing me. I raised an eyebrow at her. “With your permission, of course, Cap,” she blushed.
“Paint the hull, get rid of that god-awful smell, and then I will approve a name for her,” I said, but Perci’s evil grin caught me by surprise.
“Of course,” she smirked, “I will stencil Lexi on the side too ... and by I, I mean our hired help.” And again, out came Perci’s evil cackle. “As if I wouldn’t scrub the shit stench off the walls of this clunky box.” She snorted, “We will restore her to something worthy of our Stronghold.”
“Hey Perci, while I am thrilled about your little victory …” She grinned. “We have two burning issues that we should address sooner rather than later. The first has to do with Nancy; she is now the manager of what, exactly? The next issue is another name; we need a name for our community that encompasses both Aspen and Mansion. Any suggestions?” I asked.
Everly started to respond, but then closed her mouth.
“I am a bit busy, at the moment,” she looked out into the distance and tapped her display a few times, “There, that should get us home.” Perci kept one hand on her screen, but turned to look at me over her shoulder.
“Nancy is a medic, Eric. A damn good battlefield surgeon that we happen to no longer need. Her career was sacrificed, in a sense, to a pile of black goop. She doesn’t resent you for it, merely wants a new job to keep her off the battlefield before she becomes a mom. I was going to put her in charge of a new team responsible for managing the day-to-day operations of our new servants. I think that is a fitting job for an expectant mother.” She nodded to herself as if she’d just realized something important. “I will be surprised if we don’t get a lot more requests, from the women at least, to pull off the battle lines,” Perci said with a frown. The landscape flew by underneath us as we streaked towards home. “You generally do the names. The Gtower tells me that ‘Hedeby’ was the largest Viking city.”
“Hmm… Not a fan of Hedeby. We are going to fly the jolly roger for a flag, that much I am certain of. I will think on a name.” I crossed my arms and leaned back against the wall. “What is the total flight time from the Xgate to home?”
Everly keyed something into the station beside Perci. “Seven minutes,” she replied.
“Well, hot damn. I better get to typing fast,” I said to a chorus of raised eyebrows. “I think I have the right name … just need to send an update to our entire community: Bastion.”
There were nods all around, the ladies agreeing with the name. My fingers danced on my Gpad as I entered my message in the broadcast to all Gpads option:
‘Since the Xgates fell from the stars above, we have struggled to survive. As we sought to preserve life at any cost, it felt like we went back in time. We will never forget those we lost, or the sacrifices they made that enabled us to thrive. We will remember that the items we have pilfered to make all this possible once belonged to someone just like us. And we will always remember what it took to get to this point.’
‘Today, a new age dawns. We welcome it gladly, with new allies at our side. Gone are the constraints of limited power generation. Tossed to the wayside is the concept of manual agriculture. As we embrace this new world, we will rely upon alien technology. As of today, there will be new subspecies caring for our needs. This pampered lifestyle does not come
without cost. We must protect what we have built and defend those who maintain it. We will not be doing so with yesterday’s technology of electric trucks and thirty-year-old rifles. Hell no! We face the future with advanced technology.’
‘Ensure our new arrivals are treated with both respect and dignity. This massive influx of new community members means that we will need to modify our existing housing, complete existing construction, and see new stone structures rise into the air. We have a monstrous task ahead of us that will require everyone to pitch in. Not like we ever get much of a break, but the next few days will be particularly hectic. Which leads me to announce the following long-overdue policies …’
‘I am proud to announce that, starting tomorrow, we will be paying every resident for work done to improve and sustain our community. You will be paid in zinc… Zinc is our new currency. We have a lot of it in we can mine in the mountains. We can also trade for it in the grand market. We will start a new economy. Will there be rough patches? Yes, of course. Will there be back-pay? You better believe it! Will this transition be magically smooth? Hah! Not a chance. I intentionally noted the likelihood of issues, twice. Please be patient; give us a few days to cycle into this. By the time the next golden portal rolls around, the community should only lack a few items and the majority of shopping will be done by you, shopping within allotted time slots so that we all can witness the grand market and can purchase those things we need.’
‘In the meantime, however, we're going to be improving our defenses and significantly enhancing our construction capabilities with towering robots called Goliaths, with two in Aspen and two in Mansion. A transportation system, called the underway, will be built to link our separate strongholds into one nation—it should be completed in a few hours, forever connecting Aspen and Mansion. Our community, Bastion, is a bright new beginning for all our citizens. Picking out our flag was an easy choice; it should be a symbol that invokes fear in our enemies but also one that constantly reminds us of the many dangers the future always holds. We have chosen to fly the skull and crossbones over our strongholds. Make no mistake, our future will, of necessity in this damned quarantine, involve piracy. We will adapt to and adopt Viking methods to ensure we prosper.’
