Bootstrap Colony (13 page)

He took a break to finish the
baking, and a serious petting session with Hera and her four legged cohorts
before lunch.

After lunch he dug out the gear
for insulation. The insulation was blown in with a compressor, when it mixed
the binary resin it foamed, filling gaps and hopefully keeping critters out.
The mix had some nasty poison in it, anything that chewed on it would get sick
and die... or at least so he hoped.

He blew in his quarters, the
infirmary, bathrooms and bedrooms. The storerooms he left alone, they didn’t
need insulation. Nor did the laundry area. The drywall would have to wait. The
kitchen area was done, but he was a bit concerned about the rain. He would need
to fill that face in with the wall soon. The tarp he had hanging now was not
enough protection.

He took a diner break, then broke
out the lights and finished wiring the LED’s in the ceiling lights. The breaker
box was a bit of a pain, but once he had it going he felt the glow of
pleasure... and glow from the LED’s. It felt good having the room lit properly;
it was one more step closer to a permanent home.

The next day he was up early. The
chores were done in next to no time; no point checking the fields while it was
raining. He used the cameras in the security robots to check the perimeter. So
far so good, no major breaks. With most of the robots hibernating he had to do
the mucking out, but it was easy if smelly.

He tore into the lighting with a
vengeance, getting the other chambers wired and tested one by one. He even
managed to wire the cameras, speakers, microphones, and routers. The ceiling
would have to eventually be filled in with a false ceiling, but he didn’t have
the materials or time now.

After lunch he decided to work on
the kitchen wall, framing out the door, then twist tying rebar and steel struts
to form the basic shape. It would have to be poured in sections, one at a time
once the rains stopped.

After much inner debate he set
the last portable generator up in the Great Hall. Setting it up under the waterfall
was dangerous, but it worked. Power was partially restored, allowing him to
power up a few of the Andy robots to move plastic wrapped furniture to his
quarters and the bedrooms. Before going to bed he had them hibernate.

The next day dawned brightly,
with only patchy clouds. He let the animals out. With animal versions of
“Hallelujah!” they rushed out the gates to the pastures. He chuckled and
checked the perimeter, then fields and greenhouses.

It was still too wet out to get
much done, so he launched the UAV and sent it due north. He wasn’t sure what he
would find, but knew it was past time to check.

Just over sixty kilometers north
the UAV beeped. He took a look at the feed while he set the form he had been
working on down. He had been setting up the forms for the doors, an annoying
and finicky process of leveling things. The UAV screen was a bit jumpy; he
played with the focus until he had a better view.

The camp was unmistakable. Also
not in a good place. He sighed in annoyance. It looked like they camped in the
wallow between two hills, right smack dab in the middle of a game trail. It was
a bit flooded too; he could see people using buckets to bail water and mud.

There were battered vehicles
parked around the perimeter. Wood and metal formed an improvised palisade. Some
of the vehicles were pretty smashed up; a couple were even turned over.
Obviously none had fuel any more.

The huts were hovels, jury rigged
affairs with tarps, tents, blankets, pieces of wood and other things. Piles of
furniture were stacked near the center bonfire. He felt a little guilty about
not finding these people sooner.

Judging by the thermal imagery he
counted seventy people, most of them seemed to be women or young. The men were
most likely out hunting he thought. One of the kids looked up and pointed to
the drone. An adult, from the look and build a female cracked a whip sending
the kid scurrying. Displeasure and anger coursed through his body suddenly.

The woman looked up at the UAV;
he waggled the wings back and forth. She seemed to glare, almost jumping out at
him. She was standing there, coiling the whip and just glaring up at him. He
sighed. “Nice lady...NOT.”

He pointed the robotic plane
North, did a spiral around the village, and then it flew out to the East. He
wasn’t sure they had seen it when it approached, but for some reason he wasn’t
comfortable leading them back here to him.

He set a plan in motion to take a
visit out the next day. He would take a couple care packages, maybe some of his
homemade bread, trade goods, and cheese. Some survival manuals too come to
think of it.

The next morning he was off,
jumping into the truck with Max. He had strapped on an armored vest, and his
usual sidearm shoulder holsters. A second Hummer followed him out; this one
carried an ED robot, just in case things turned ugly.

The trip was bouncy, he was wary
of animals, but felt a growing thrill of excitement. It had been to long since
he had had human contact. He recognized the need for social interaction. He
petted Max, who still had his head out the window. He flicked his eyes to the
tablet racked on the center console, yes the cameras were recording. Good.

He pulled up out of sight of
their gate, and then ordered the security hummer to hang back there. When it
parked he stepped on the gas to round the copse of trees screening him and
pulled up to the makeshift gate, startling the guard.

She was a bit wary, clutching at
her spear. Another woman came out of a nearby shack, did a double take at his
presence and wave, and then whistled. Women, teens and children looked up and
came running from all directions.

When he got out of the truck the
group was hostile, mostly women and teens or preteens, with three children
under seven. He sighed. He spotted the raven haired woman with the whip; she
was dressed in leather from head to toe. She even had a leather duster coat on.
He reached up and turned his Bluetooth on, then shouldered the strap to the
Bushmaster rifle.

He checked the safety just as the
woman arrived. The guard was wary giving him the eye of a practiced veteran. He
gave her a nod, and then turned to the woman. “What do you want?” she demanded.

He gave her a small bow. “Ma’am,
my name is Mitchell Chambers, I am new here, just checking in with my
neighbors. You are the leader here?” He was fighting to be polite, noting her
hostility, as well as the hostility of some in the crowd.

Many have puckered faces, some
from hunger, Illness, and some from anger. He sighed mentally. “I am Mistress Tabitha,
leader of this village,” she said haughtily, shaking her hair out, hands on her
hips. He turned to her. She was truly imposing, flowing black hair, sculpted
eyebrows, and black leather.

“Well Ma’am...” he began.

A curt “Mistress.” from her made
him pause.

“Okay, Mistress, as I was saying,
I am just being neighborly.”

A murmur in the crowd began, he
picked up a few phrases like “We don’t need any trouble, we don’t need his kind
here, not another mouth to feed, does he have food.” He turned to the group.

“Folks, I am not coming to stay,
as I was telling your leader,” He indicated the woman with a waving gesture. “I
am just checking in.” He bent into the truck and let Max out. Max came out, and
at his quiet heel sat next to him. He pulled out a box, and handed it to the
nearest woman. “I figured I should bring a gift since we are new neighbors,” he
said politely. The brunet woman took the box with a disgusted look, but opened
it and cried in surprise as her astonished green eyes registered the contents.

“Holy cow! MRE’s!” She looked
down then up at the mistress, and then back to Mitch. He nodded.

“Yes Ma’am,” he said. A child
came up to him and pulled on his trousers. He looked down, and felt his heart
tug at seeing a gaunt little boy, maybe five or six, wearing rags. What the
hell were these people doing to their kids? He thought with barely suppressed
rage.

“Well, hello, who are you?” he
asked, modulating his tone to keep it soft and not spook the lad. He reached
into his pocket and pulled out an energy bar. He had stocked his pockets with
them before leaving, now glad he had. He handed it to the boy, who fumbled it
then tore into it.

“My name is Billy,” the little
boy replied. A woman called to him. Mitch tossed another bar to the kid, who
fumbled the catch. He picked it up, gave a scared look to the Mistress, and
then scampered off into the crowd.

The red head came out of the
crowd. She was still wearing a tattered jeans and a flannel long sleeve plaid
shirt, with what looked like a stethoscope peaking out of the front pocket.
“Hi,” Mitch said. He held out his hand. She shook it. “My name is Mitch
Chambers. You look like the local Doc,” he observed with a hint of smile. She
nodded.

“You will address yourself to
me,” the mistress said haughtily. He turned noted the short haired brunette
standing next to the mistress.

Max growled softly. One of the
women tightened her grip on her spear. “Quiet,” Mitch softly told the dog. He
reached into the truck window and pulled out another care package and handed it
to the Doctor.

“I said you are to address me,”
the raven haired witch said coldly. He turned, quirks an eye at her haughty pose,
lilting chin.

“And what exactly would you like
me to say?” he asked, turned and pulling another package out. Doc handed the
first to a teenager, and then fumbled the block of cheese. He looked at the
mistress. “I made this cheese a couple weeks ago, so it hasn’t fully aged.” He
shrugged as a murmur of interest spread through the group. The brunette glared
about her and the murmur faded into sheepish silence.

“As I was saying,” he looked
around. “The cheese is pretty fresh, and I am still getting used to making it,
so I am not sure about the quality.” A sneer passed on the brunette. He flicked
a glance to her, then pulled out a paramedic bag and handed it to the doctor.
Her eyes flared at the sight of the Red Cross on its back. “It should at least
provide some nutritional value however.”

Beside him the Doc murmured.
“Thanks, but you better go, she is dangerous.” He gave a small nod.

He didn’t take his eyes off the
mistress as he reached into the truck and pulled out another bag from the back...
“I thought you would like some fresh bread to go with the cheese,” he said as
he shrugged and handed it to the doctor.

“I should be going; I have a bit
of a drive and evening feeding in a couple hours,” he said, raising his voice
to the crowd. The murmur began again. “I have a few more packages and some
survival gear here if some of you folks want it,” he said, looking about him
for any takers. He looked to the Doc. She gave him a look, and then warily
watched the Mistress. He stepped back to the rear of the Hummer flipped off the
cargo net and started handing out stuff to Doc who handed it off to others.

“You will find another med kit,
some fishing gear, water treatment tablets, manuals, and a map of the area in
there Doc,” he murmured to her. He handed her a jar. “Multivitamins,” he said.
She nodded.

He buttoned up the netting and
watched some of the crowd leaving with the gear. He sighed at the set faces of
the rest. Not a single thank you or anything. “Don’t blame them; they have had
a rough time,” Doc murmured, taking the last package and holding it to her
chest. A child cried in the background.

Mitch nodded as he shut the
hatch. “Guess I will be going then. Nice to meet all of you,” He got into the
truck. “Max heel!” Max gave one more glare to the mistress and then turned to
jump over his lap into the passenger seat.

“See you around,” he said waved
and reversed. “Fools,” he muttered as he did a three point U turn and
retreated. He could hear the brunette almost cheering as he left. He checked
the rear view mirror and saw her giving him a one finger salute. Nice neighbors
he thought with a pang.

On the return trip he dictated
some notes of his impressions, making sure he remembered that they were forming
around a matriarch society, with a possible bad history with males. His mouth
puckered in distaste as he noted that caution was advised.

He sighed. “Note a high
concentration of women in village. Very few males, most males present were
teenagers or younger.” He watched a herd moving into his path. “The Northern
village...” He paused in thought. “Designate Amazon Village,” he said and then
stopped himself and snorted. “They seem to be suffering classic nutritional
deficiency. From appearance they may also have some members infected with
Clipto Sporidia, or an alien equivalent.” He finished the log and then sighed.

When he came up to a herd he had
the trucks pull over. Carefully he pulled out the Barrett, made sure he was
using standard rounds, and then climbed through the rooftop hatch to aim. He
took a hadrosaur behind its right flank, it dropped. The remaining herd began
to honk, turned away from him. Just for the hell of it he shot another, this
time a juvenile. It staggered for a few steps, and then dropped with an
anguished cry.