Second Chances (15 page)

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One native animal they didn't want was the hex rat. The pests were vicious and smart. They went after the grain silos the Southbys and community set up. The cats could handle the smaller ones, but the hex rats sometimes teamed up on the cats. Two cats were injured, one killed by the pests. “We're just going to have to be vigilant,” Adam said, looking down to Trisha who was stroking the pelt of a cat. The cat was young, a sable from the first litter. Quincy had patched him up, but he'd lost an eye and ear valiantly defending their food supply.

“I still don't have to like it,” Trisha said. She and Miranda had resented the way John treated his animals. Now she understood, they weren't just pets. They were necessary components of the farm. Feeding and spoiling them made them lazy; cats that hadn't been trained or just weren't hungry didn't hunt. They had to keep the rats and bugs in check if they were going to have a chance at surviving the winter. She still petted and cared for them, but she was coming around to his point of view. She just didn't have to like it, she thought. And the sacrifices...she looked at the torn up ear and then away.

“You and I both know rats carry fleas and diseases. And we'll need the feed for the animals,” he said. She nodded and then sighed, stroking the cat. He purred and stretched, paws extends. She smiled tenderly tucking him into the crock of her arm. He snuggled close drinking in her warmth then settled into a soft buzz. “What about the dogs?” Trisha asked finally, shaking her hair out and then looking up to her husband.

“We can get one from one of the people I suppose,” Adam said, frowning. They had Bully, his aging bulldog, but not one of the other animals. Unfortunately for Bully, he'd been fixed at a young age so he would most likely be the last of his particular breed. That sucked, Adam thought with a pang. He had a thing for bulldogs.

“I think we can trade for one from the Roberts,” he said, frowning. “I think Guy wants some custom hinges and latches. I suppose I can do the work,” he said grudgingly.

Trisha snorted. Guy thought that since they'd gotten some ore and material for Adam he would do the work of smelting it and smithing objects for free. Adam thought differently. He considered the metal a gift, and his labor, not to mention the materials needed, were in short supply so therefore expensive. They hadn't quite come to verbal blows over the subject just yet, but she knew it was coming. “I'd rather have one of John's. He's got the best,” she said.

“That's a lot of long fur honey,” Adam said frowning. He didn't mind John, but he didn't like how casual the man was with the women in the community. He had to admit; he was a jealous husband. Trisha knew it, and he knew she knew it. He'd caught her a few times playing his jealousy by toying with another man when he got too wound up in his own little world. He'd learned to be attentive or at least he thought so. But every once and a while she'd flirt a bit and get him all upset.

Of course the argument that resulted was a good way to let off built-up steam. And the resulting passion did wonders in the bedroom later, which was an even better way to let off steam.

“I'll think about it,” he mumbled, walking off.

She stroked the cat, smiling slightly.

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Wendy Jordan brought in a back pack filed with odd looking yellow polyps after another gather session in the field. She liked to go out with Russell when he was hunting. She was a good hunter but more of a pack carrier. She was a set of eyes though and a better gatherer than her husband who couldn't tell a fir from an oak, let alone a poisonous berry from an edible one.

The ovoids were clearly plants, there was still a bit of vine attached to a few of them. Some had green specks; some had a tinge of red in the rind. “I saw a wounded dino, one of those turkey-sized ones, like a bird but more dino...blue head you know?” She waved a hand to indicate its height at her waist. Cliff and Bert nodded. “Anyway, it had a wicked gash on its side. I was going to kill it when I saw it pop a few of these. I mean, it picked them off, stepped on them, then rolled in the pulp and juices. It squealed, but when it came up it stunk of antiseptic. I thought Doc would like a look.” She held a polyp the size of a baseball up.

“Interesting,” Cliff said. He frowned as he tried to peel the rind with his fingers. Finally he broke out a flint knife and bored through the skin. He took a sniff then coughed.

“Antiseptic? Wood grain alcohol?” Bert asked, sniffing himself. He coughed.

“It leaves a stain so be careful,” Wendy warned. Cliff nodded. He dribbled some of the juice out onto a piece of wood, then played with it with his fingers. He rubbed it between them, then sniffed again. “Definitely odd,” he said.

“Not sugar? Yeah, that is weird,” Wendy said, shaking her head.

“It's staining the wood,” Cliff observed. “A nice honey color really. It's turning waxy,” he said, touching it. “I wonder if it could be used as a glue?”

“Better wash your fingers off,” Bert warned. “I think it might be a good antiseptic. Maybe surgical glue, Doc can check that. But if it is, we'll have something new to treat wounds,” he said.

“Yeah,” Cliff said, looking around, unsure what to do with the sample.

“In the fire,” Bert said waving a hand. Cliff nodded.

Bert snorted as Cliff tossed the piece of wood and fruit polyp into the dying community fire. They all shrank back in alarm as it whooshed in an explosion of heat and fire. “Damn!” Bert said as the air filled with smoke. “Definitely flammable!” He said, waving his hand and coughing. “The flames must have been ten, twelve feet high!”

“I think we'll run it by Doc. An antiseptic, possibly a fuel source...explosive?” Cliff asked. Wendy frowned, checking her hair and face. She felt like she'd just been burned, her face was very warm.

“Lord I hope not,” Bert said, taking the package. “I'd say she's got enough here to torch the entire compound,” he said warningly. “You better let me hang onto this. No telling what Kevin or Sal would do with it,” he said.

Wendy shook her head. “Yeah, probably something stupid,” she grumbled.

“You're telling me!” Bert said. “So, we'll run some tests,” he said. “Away from here,” he said. “I'm curious if it will do as lamp oil. We need to see what its smoke point is,” he murmured thoughtfully.

“Away from anything flammable Bert,” Cliff warned. “We don't need a forest fire,” he said. Bert nodded.

“Now that's a fun thought,” Wendy said and then shivered. “I can see it in some ways; we'd only just started to realize fire was a good thing back on Earth. Killing pesky weeds and nourishing the soil. But this?”

“I'm wondering that myself. You said it's near?”

“It's like a weed. The fruit hangs down from vines that climb trees,” Wendy explained.

“I think maybe we should harvest this. If only to clear the area of a potential fire hazard,” Cliff said. “I'd rather not see a lightning strike hit it,” he said. Wendy shivered.

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The long burning heat of summer made them certain John had made the right call with planting again. An estimate of the seasons led them to believe each was four to five months long, which didn't bode well for winter. Russell their amateur astronomer was certain there was more to it than that. He had determined early on that the planet had a twenty-eight hour day. He was certain he missed the vernal equinox, but he was now keeping careful records to record the equinox but also the height of the sun in the sky for the solstice.

He rigged stakes and a sundial to keep track of the sun and a careful chart of the times and cycle. Timing it was difficult, their watches were set up for a twenty-four hour period, so had to be constantly adjusted and were therefore unreliable as far as he was concerned.

Keeping the kids, animals and teens from messing with the stakes was also a concern. Russell was a worrier, but Pat assured him she'd protect his gear from tampering.

The kids did love looking out through his two telescopes into the night sky. The third was mounted onto the watch tower to keep an eye out for weather, potential threats like predators or fire, or just to keep the people on watch from getting bored.

It was hard to function during the heat of the day. They evolved into getting a lot of work done early in the morning or in the evenin’, with siestas during the heat of the day, much like the animals did. Staying up late had its perks though; after the sun went down, the heavens were quite a thing to see since it was all new to them.

The heat and humidity led to short tempers though; people just couldn't get a lot done with it sweltering outside no matter how much Eric and Carlene urged them to do so. There were some things that had to be done despite the heat. Thunderstorms helped break the tedium up a bit; they got a blast of humidity beforehand and then sharp winds as a warning to go along with the thunderheads above. It was welcome relief from the bugs and watering for the fields, but it practically drowned them too. The watch tower was not a welcome place to be during a storm either since it was the highest place in the community...which was situated on a plateau hill, Bull had a couple close calls getting down from the tower despite the lightening rod Gerald had rigged to it. The structure hadn't caught fire, but it had been hit. They could tell from the scorch marks on the wood and ground.

Midway through the summer they harvested the crops, then fertilized with the tons of dino and animal waste before they planted anew a few days later. Nothing went to waste, not even human waste. It was all used on the fields.

Everything possible was carefully cleaned, reused or recycled. Cans that had at one point been tossed or recycled back on earth were cleaned and reused with improvised lids. Plastic containers with lids were popular items, not just Tupperware but also drinking bottles and other containers. Even zip-lock bags were cleaned and reused.

The heat didn't cause short tempers with just the humans either. The animals were proddy and grumpy about being forced out of the shade. They found the best time to get anything done was the few hours as the sun came up or just before it went down. Bert reported in over the radio after a rather scary encounter too.

Bert was out of breath, a bit excited and scared from his tone but very interested in reporting the story. “I'd just made a sweet kill, one of those biped dinos with the skull helmet. I moved in and gutted it when I heard the animals go quiet, then the bushes behind me move. Freaked me out enough to move away from the kill. I'm glad I did,” he said. “I heard this growl rumble...” he paused, voice strained. “Deep, real deep. Warning I think,” he said.

He went on to describe how he, Darion, Brady, Alif, and Russell had encountered a Rex after he had just made the kill two miles south of the community’s original landing field, a few hundred yards into the tree line. “I retreated; the thing was just too big. It strutted about, then made some calls, like caws and other sounds behind it. I was pulling back when something came through the brush to my left. I froze, and one of those Hex predators came into the clearing. It was a big SOB, mean, just dripping claws and teeth. The sucker was half again as big as the Rex, low slung with all six legs on the ground, but a big long head and six eyes. Mandibles, tusks, horns...this thing was just screaming monster. One big mother of a sail on its back, but it had smaller ones on the rest of its body and on the short clubbed tail. It moved, raised them up and down...the sails flashed with colors....I've seen the things through my scope but never wanted to be
that
close!”

“What happened?” Cliff asked when Bert paused for a while.

“Well, he ignored me, went right for the kill and the T. rex,” Bert said. “It started posturing and circling the kill with the Rex bellowing and clawing the air. But then the Rex got back up. Apparently, it hadn't been alone; it had a pair of smaller versions to help in the fight. Juniors one and two seemed to make the Hex think twice. I got to the others in the bush.”

“What happened?”

“What do you think happened? We got the hell out of there!” Bert said. “I mean we high tailed it before something else showed up bigger than all of them.”

“So...everyone's okay?”

“Yeah,” Bert said, catching his breath, and slowly letting it out. “I didn't look over my shoulder but Alif says he did, here,” he said, handing Alif the radio.

“Hello? I saw the things fight, the monsters. The big one with six legs went after the mother Rex?” he asked, unsure of the players in the battle.

“That's right,” they heard Bert say. “Go on.”

“Yes well, the one with six legs went low and for the throat of the Rex. The Rex bit down on its back and sail. They were wrestling, stomping, we were very lucky we weren't trampled!” He said. “Um, please don't let Nahib know that,” he said hastily. Bert snorted in the background.

“Will do, Alif.”

“The Rex squealed when the one with six legs got it off its feet. The thing pinned it with three of its legs then used its tail to hit one of the baby...Rexes,” he said uncertainly.

“Ah.”

“The last I saw before I high tailed it out of there was the big one rip the throat out of the mother Rex before it turned on the babies. The babies were backing off though.”

“Okay. Good idea to get out of there. The babies may be hungry, and you guys are snack size,” Cliff said.