Thera

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Thera Page 19

by Jonathan G. Meyer


  “We have a lot of friends, Mister Clark,” replied Elizabeth. “They all helped.”

  The tent had a homey touch to it, and he managed to carry out a week of his sentence; which he thought was pretty good.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  President Theo Sands came to see the captain, with three members of the Council in tow. He wanted answers, and he wasn’t getting them from the commander, so they flew to the outsider camp and demanded to see the man in charge. They were directed to the command tent where the captain responded immediately and stepped over to shake hands, “Hello President Sands. It's good to finally get the chance to meet you. I am Captain Effinger, and I have the dubious distinction of being responsible for this settlement.”

  The captain projected a commanding presence, and Sands temporarily became flustered by his friendly response. Tales of the Captain’s efforts to save his ship from the unstable cyborg intent on their destruction were legendary on Earth. The president had no way of knowing they were fabrications; stories crafted for political or religious reasons.

  There were questions being raised by the citizens of Rivertown. It was a small community, and the rumors sparked because of the man in the medical center spread like smoke until the president got wind of it. “I understand you have a cyborg in your midst. Is this true?” he asked bluntly.

  The captain knew this would happen in time. He had hoped it would be a problem to deal with later rather than sooner. It appeared he would have to start dealing with it now. “Would you gentlemen care to follow me to my tent? We can discuss this there.”

  A large table occupied the center of the captain’s tent. He was always accessible, and sometimes needed a place to meet various small groups. He offered them something to drink. When the president declined, the others did too.

  He got them seated and addressed the president. “I want to apologize for not making my way to your town and introducing myself, but as you can see I’ve been a little busy. For the last week, it has been non-stop. I’ve been lucky if I get two hours sleep in a row.”

  “I can see you have your hands full, Captain, but we will not take too much of your time. I simply need confirmation on something; then we will let you get back to work.”

  Captain Effinger rose from the table and poured himself a cup of water from a side table, giving himself time to think. He had dealt with a bias against robotics in the past.

  There were some failures during the development of the technology, and those failures tainted the perception of all subsequent research. The captain wanted to deny the fact of Al’s special qualities, but the secret would come out eventually; whether he wanted it to or not.

  “We have a man here who has a robotic body. He is a good person, and not to be feared.”

  All five members registered shock, and their leader asked, “So it is true? There was a cyborg aboard your ship?”

  “Yes, but he isn’t fond of the term ‘cyborg’, and the truth about the man is far from what you have heard. He is like any of us—with unique capabilities.”

  “Aren’t you afraid he will malfunction and hurt your people? There are documented cases where just that has happened,” pressed Theo.

  Names were unnecessary; the less these people knew about Al Clark, the better. Giving away his identity would only complicate the issue. The captain did, however, have something to say. “The man you speak of is a friend of mine and has helped to save this colony in more ways that I can count. I have complete faith in him.”

  The president appeared skeptical, “That is all well and good, but I can’t disregard all the warnings posted about things like this. Is this creature functional? Does it walk around free to go where it wants?”

  Tobias laughed. He could not help it. When he was able to speak, he said, “Why shouldn’t he? He is a free man and an important part of this community.”

  “Why are you not concerned? I find your attitude troubling, and frankly quite irresponsible.”

  Now the captain was becoming annoyed. He was also in dire need of the president’s assistance and hid the irritation. “I don’t know what else I can tell you. Nobody has anything to fear from him. Now, can we talk about ways for our two settlements to help each other? I have some ideas I would like to run past—.”

  Sands interrupted, “We can discuss your concerns at a later date. I am afraid we have run out of time. We must be getting back to tend to the harvest. There is much to do and little time. I hope you will excuse us?”

  The captain was surprised, and answered slowly, “Okay,…I’ll walk you to the shuttle.”

  ****

  A week passed, and the help from Rivertown gradually dried up. The commander snuck a shuttle out at the end of the week and came to explain why.

  “He is making speeches against your people, Captain; claiming you have a time bomb living among you. He also has it in his head that your people will be the downfall of ours by taking our resources and never replacing them.”

  “Why would he say that? We have no intention of being a burden, and Al would never hurt anybody. The idea is preposterous.”

  The commander shook his head, “I can’t explain Theodore Sands. His beliefs are strong, and he is a great salesman. I guess that is why he was elected president twice. He and I have had many arguments, and to the best of my knowledge, I have never succeeded in changing his mind on anything.”

  The captain took the commander to meet the man on the stretcher. He thought it was time someone from Rivertown heard the real story of the Excalibur and Al Clark. Al was still confined to quarters and was glad for the company. His body was beginning to heal, and he was starting to feel like himself again.

  After the introductions, Al said, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Commander. Mostly good.”

  “I hope it was all good Mister Clark. You haven’t known me long enough for the bad stuff.”

  Al thought they would get along fine.

  The captain and Al took turns contributing to the story of the Excalibur. They held Jack spellbound as he learned of Al’s awakening. How he found Chris, and together, they began to wake the ship. When they saw Avalon for the first time, and later discovered it had been there, slowly circling for ten years while they slept.

  They told him about the first attempts at establishing a foothold on the planet, and the subsequent retreat to regroup and try another spot. The story of Shangri-La and Camelot came with fond memories, but also loss and defeat, and the eventual escape to the mountain.

  “All those people came through a wormhole in a matter of hours? Just before the island blew up?”

  “That was after Al, Chris, and Kira took a boat trip to the mainland to deliver the transport gate. They were caught in a storm and lost almost all their supplies. Still, they managed to get the machine where we needed and activate it,” explained the captain.

  “Sounds like you’ve had a lot of luck—most of it bad,” commented Jack.

  Al said, “Yeah, but we try to focus on the positive. A never give up philosophy.”

  “I can see where that could be beneficial,” said the commander.

  They talked for a while more, becoming more comfortable as time passed. Jack left with a good understanding of their journey and went to spread the story to the people of Rivertown. He decided to fight in their interest and spread the real history of an exploration that persevered under extremely difficult conditions. He also vowed to return in a week with more supplies.

  ****

  Al was tired of sitting around. Elizabeth was gone most of the time, and even Falkor did not hang around during the day. The growing dragon would sleep at the foot of the bed, then leave early in the morning to graze in the forest, fish, or sun himself on the rocks around the lake.

  The skin around his wounds was healing itself faster than he could have hoped and didn’t look that bad. The damage was all covered by bandages anyhow, and the hat made him look almost normal. It might be the only cowboy hat around, but Liz said he looked goo
d in it. He put on loose jeans and a collarless blue shirt and made his escape.

  Al limped around the settlement, talking to his friends, and checking on their progress. The camp was growing larger every day, and buildings were already under construction. It was a busy place.

  He stopped at the tent being used for security and checked with his men. The settlers were so busy building their home sites, and settling in, there was no need for them in any official capacity, so the two men in the tent were assembling food packages; to be distributed to the people that needed them most.

  “Is anyone walking the perimeter?” asked Al.

  One man replied, “There is no need Chief. There is nothing out there that wants to hurt us.”

  “What about the hairy little guys that trapped us when we got here?”

  “We haven’t seen any sign of them. Nobody has. Are you sure you didn't imagine it, Sir?”

  “All three of us? No, they were real, but you are probably right. They ran so fast the last time we saw them; they were tripping over each other. What about citizen disputes? Have you gotten any complaints?”

  “Not a one, Chief. Everybody is too busy to argue.”

  It was evident he was not needed. His men had things well in hand. “All right. You guys carry-on. I think I’ll go and let my wife know I escaped my bonds.”

  He got ‘the look’ when he walked into the bright green shack where she was working on the computer system. Two large cabinets stood in the corner of the compact room, and various colored cables lay everywhere.

  “Who let you out?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. When I got up, the padlock was missing.”

  “You still have another week of rest, Al. Cody and Edward will not be happy with you.”

  “I feel fine. I’ll just have to be careful with the hand.”

  She knew him well enough to know that nothing she said would make him rest as he should, so she threw up her hands and gave in. “You had better be. The skin around your wrist is still healing. If you mess it up, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

  He took her hand, leaned toward her, and said, “I will go crazy if I have to stay in that tent one more day. I have escaped my jailors, and I will not go back.”

  She acted irritated. “I have work to do. Why don’t you see how Chris is doing? He’s at the community center. But remember, you are a one handed man.”

  He answered with his traditional mild-mannered, “Yes, dear.”

  The Community Center would become the focal point of the village. They were striving to duplicate what they had in Camelot. A town surrounding a multi-purpose building, where people could gather, obtain supplies, attend meetings, and even send their kids to school. All paths lead to the community center.

  The former village of Camelot was well-designed and encouraged a social atmosphere. The new settlement is modeled from the old and varies little from the original layout. The basic principles still applied. A name for the new location was still undecided. For the time being, until they gave their new home a title, they simply called it, ‘The Village.'

  Al spent the next week helping Chris at the community center. He had only one hand, and not a lot of knowledge about construction, but between the two of them, they managed to accomplish quite a bit.

  The center was important for many reasons. They needed storage desperately. Tarps protected crucial supplies susceptible to the weather. The building would also serve as a cultural center, where large groups could gather. Classrooms, shops, showers, and a tool shed were all part of the plans.

  On a couple of occasions, Chris and Al managed to slip away in the buggy. Edward accompanied them, and they performed some rudimentary tests on Al’s systems. The roboticist was pleased with the results, and so was Al. He now had almost unlimited use of his capabilities, and when in enhanced mode, the shortness of his leg was compensated for by the system computers. When the time came where his power pack ran low, it was a simple matter to plug-in and recharge.

  Two weeks after his return, they were lifting exterior walls. Al was operating in enhanced mode, and using only one hand; he held the wall while the others screwed it in place. Al was enjoying the freedom and power and was pleased with their progress.

  In the middle of the afternoon, Chris noticed a trail of smoke, climbing from the horizon about where Rivertown would be. He asked Al, “Is that coming from Rivertown?”

  Al looked around and decided there were too many people present that were unfamiliar with his special capabilities. He told Chris, “I’ll be right back; I’m going somewhere I can jump.”

  Chris nodded, and Al headed for the woods. When he was alone, he jumped thirty feet into the air and trained his gaze on the river settlement. In the middle of town, close to the water, a large building was ablaze.

  He jogged back to Chris and told him, “The center of Rivertown is on fire. I need to get there.”

  “I can get the buggy. We can be there in twenty minutes.”

  “No. I can get there a lot faster. You grab some people and get there as quickly as you can.”

  He thought for a second and added, “See if you can scrounge up a couple of pumps—and some hose. I have a feeling it will be worth the time?”

  “Watch yourself Al. Those people don’t know you like we do.”

  His friend winked and said, “Noted, sir.”

  As soon as he was out of sight, he ran. At the edge of Rivertown, he slowed down and continued as fast as humanly possible.

  It was a large building, with wings on each side. Several people were in the street watching the blaze consume the building. Al asked one, “Is there anybody in there?”

  The man did not turn to answer; his eyes locked on the spectacle before him. “That is our school, and there are kids in there. They are not sure how many.” Al heard the pain in the man’s voice as he finished, “—and there is nothing we can do.”

  ****

  Samara was at the top of her class. She was popular and smart in a crafty way, and at ten years old; she was well known as a leader in her class. The guidelines established for the others did not apply to her. She played with a set of rules all her own.

  Right now, she and two friends were ditching a class. They met in the empty halls after asking for a bathroom break and made their way to a large storage room full of spare furniture, old school projects, and carnival booths. It was dark, quiet, and included a ready-made place to play. A miniature house used during festivals waited for them.

  She liked having meetings with her friends, to tell them about her newest toys and adventures. Her mother died when she was born, and her father attempted to compensate by giving her whatever she desired. Today she told her friends of the new hand-made doll carriage she received yesterday. The three girls were so engrossed in their discussion they did not notice the smoke until it started seeping through the door of the little house.

  “I smell smoke,” said one girl. “And I hear a funny noise.”

  Samara opened the door to see, and the tiny house began to fill with a dark fog. A low-pitched roar accompanied by a crackling sound further warned them something was wrong. Fear started slowly and escalated quickly as the smoke entered their lungs, and started them coughing.

  She remembered something from one of the school’s safety classes and exclaimed, “We have to get on the ground and crawl out!”

  The other girls were already gasping for air when they left the house and did not travel far before they collapsed. She stopped hearing their struggles, and soon after had gone as far as she could. Just before passing out, as her eyes were closing, a man appeared out of the fog. She would remember him as a giant, with bandages on his head and glowing eyes.

  ****

  On his first trip into the burning building, he systematically checked each room he passed. His eyes allowed him to see the heat of anything living, and helped with his desperate search. The fire engulfed one entire wing, and the smoke was thick throughout, so even he had
trouble breathing unless he stayed close to the ground. It took several minutes to find them lying on the floor in a closed room close to the center of the school. Al picked up one the girls and carried her out using his good arm. On the second trip, he decided it was taking too long, and he no longer cared about his injured hand. He picked up an unconscious girl in each arm and carried them to safety.

  They came out covered in soot, the bloody bandage falling from his wrist and exposing the metal underneath. He lost his hat when he left the village, and the sooty bandages around his head were visible. No one noticed. All they cared about were the girls. They took them from him and rushed the three survivors to the doctor under a hail of gratitude. The parents of Samara’s friends thanked Al over and over, as they hurried to follow their daughters.

  Chris arrived with pumps, hoses, and help. It was a good thing too because the last fire experienced by the town was long ago, and the fire-fighting equipment on hand proved to be neglected and falling into disrepair. Only one pump worked, and the hoses leaked.

  With the equipment Chris brought, the people of Riverton pitched in and helped to put out the fire. Some manned the hoses while others formed a chain to the river and started a bucket brigade.

  The sun was setting as they doused the last of the flames, leaving the building a total loss that would need to be demolished before they could construct another. Chris joined Al and some of the town’s people, standing in front of the burned out school watching the tendrils of smoke for the yellow of fire.

  The people of Rivertown were pleased. No lives lost, and no other buildings damaged. It was an acceptable outcome for what could have been a disaster. One man wiped at the smudges on his face and said, “We can always rebuild the school, but you cannot rebuild a person.”

 

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