Bootstrap Colony (6 page)

“All right try again.” Mitch
watched as the winch line twanged tight once more, the crackle of rain and
splintering bark, then flash of lightning and peal of thunder. The truck
tottered a bit, making him nervous. This was the last load, Textile machinery,
but not something he really wanted to risk, but then again not something worth
his life. But with a sucking sound the tractor pulled free of the mud and
reengaged its drive. When it got off the embankment he stopped the winch and
truck, and then unhooked everything.

The robot returned on command,
and together they got back to the hummer. “Great now I have two cars to clean,”
he muttered as the lurch into motion. He checked the log. The first tractor had
reached the base gate, so he sighed in relief. He led his wayward charge across
the remaining field and through the gate a half hour later.

The next morning he did his
morning stretches as the sun came up, still blocked by some of the scattering
clouds. The rain had washed away some of the dirt, but left its own mess of now
drying marks. According to the stats one lightning strike had hit the solar panels;
it had fried three panels before popping a breaker. The cables were
superconductors, they handled the load, and the resetting breakers at the power
station did as well.

He wasn’t sure about the panels
though, that sort of juice probably melted the fine wiring in the panels. He
decided he would need to set up the lightning tower soon to prevent a repeat
performance.

First thing on the agenda were
chores of course. The animals were okay; the dogs were a bit muddy, and very
frisky. He hosed a pair off, and then led them out to the field he had
designated for the first temporary greenhouses. The robots had set up the metal
piping into the ground, he watched as the dogs frolicked and bounced around. He
pulled a ball from his pocket, tossed it out to them. They bounced around
happily, tossing it and growling with pleasure. He smiled a little. Sometimes
it was the simplest of things to make one's day.

The first strings of greenhouses
were triangular tent affairs, no more than a sheet of clear plastic hanging
over a couple poles in the center. Racks of flats would hang from these poles
at angles slopping down. Drip lines watered the plants. These greenhouses were
seed starters, allowing the seeds a leg up to germinate before he put them into
the ground. The racks were easy to hook on, but fitting the seeds into the tiny
holes was a tedious annoyance. He regretted not getting the vacuum system; it
would have made it all quicker and easier.

Once he had the first greenhouse
up the others went much easier and faster. There were a dozen small tent ones
to set up; he managed to keep pace just one behind the robots. One of the
robots ran a hose out from the fire truck, he had set it up as a temporary
pumping station until a more permanent affair could be unpacked and set up. The
greenhouses were set up in a line, with their slopping sides facing north and
south. This would allow each of the sides a compromise of light, but would
allow them as much light as possible for as long as possible. A small square
foot solar panel would provide power to the pumps and led lights. Hopefully it
would all work, he knew his limitations, and one of them was a distinct lack of
a green thumb.

When the greenhouses were
completed he returned the dogs to the pen, called out a pair of border collies,
and led them to the sheep pasture. He let them range out, testing their skills
to keep them and his own memory sharp. The sheep bah’ed a bit but complied with
the two dogs, packing in and moving along as the dogs instructed. He debated
keeping the dogs out here, it would be a good idea to protect the sheep, but
could be hindrance too. They had a tendency to run a flock a little too hard
when not constantly supervised. It wasn’t like they would be much protection
against a raptor or Rex either. He decided to leave them with the flock; they
flopped down to pant in the shade as he moved off to the next chore.

Setting up the pasteurization
plant was a bit of a pain, having the instructions read to him by a nearby
robot made it a little easier. The robot acted as a third hand sometimes,
allowing his to be freed to tighten things or get tools. When he had set it up
he ran the first batch, and then cursed when a loose valve popped and milk
sprayed out over the area. He frantically shut it down, watched as the escaping
milk ebbed, then bubbled down to a dribble.

“Great,” He eyed the mess in
disgust and then stepped over the puddle to the valve. The joint was sticking,
and with it being a bit loose, it had popped the seal and made the spray.
Replacing it was tedious, but he got it done.

With the pasteurizer finally up
and running he hooked in the homogenization tank, and then moved to the spider
silk protein extractor. He had to do a bit of tugging with the power cable,
before he gave up and called for the machine to be moved over so he could hook
it up. This time he double checked all the seals, making sure all the
connections were tight. The milk pumped in; warily he watched to make sure
there were no further problems. He hooked a hose up to the way waste line; it
would dump into the composting area. It would be a couple weeks before he would
need to change the protein collection tank.

With that handled he watched the
milk levels slowly sink in the dairy area. He turned to the regular dairy. He
really needed to make something to keep all that milk. Cheese was his best
option, it stored the best, and he could use it to feed some of the animals.
Even the cats could eat cheese in small amounts. Butter was easier to make, but
he wasn’t sure how well animals could eat it, and besides, it required
refrigeration. Cheese just needed a cool area; he had that in spades with the
cargo pods and caves. It was a pain to make though, he had plenty of rennet and
casein in his stores, but the making was labor intensive.

Making a decision he decided to
set up the butter churner, taking the easy way out, at least for now. It hooked
in beautifully, but he was a bit concerned about power demand. Setting it for
delayed start, it would have to wait until the spider silk processor was
finished before the computer turned it on. He would have to come back in an
hour to make sure there were no problems.

He thought about the cheese
maker, it was tempting to set it up alongside the other pieces of dairy
equipment, but he really needed to get it under cover. He could use one of the
empty cargo pods he mused, then shrugged and headed off to lunch. He took his
time with the MRE, flipping through the cheese making manual as he ate. He
reluctantly decided to set up in the cargo pod close to the cave complex. It
would be a bit dark, but he could rig a string of LED lights.

Set up was annoying, the robots
could handle the grunt work, but hooking up the plumbing was a pain. He set a
robot to tow a small tank to the dairy. Finishing the connections he walked
back to the dairy, swearing as he tripped over a cable. He really needed to do
something about all these cables; they were everywhere, along with a growing
amount of hoses. The robots had bridges to cross over them, but routing around
the damn things took up time. Traffic over them could damage them. He decided
to set up the substation near the windmills and solar farms, that would cut the
power lines down and he could run lines direct to equipment near them from the
substation instead of across the base.

Of course if he had wind turbines
in different locations around the perimeter they could each power machinery
near them. Funny how that hadn't been considered before he thought wryly.

The moody sky made him look up
and around as he patiently waited for the tank to fill. It could hold nearly a
thousand gallons, enough for a lot of cheese. The cheese would come in handy,
not only to supplement his rations, but also as a great trade item. From his
estimate it was early spring on this planet, the animals should be drying up
soon as they enter the last trimesters of pregnancy. Bob had suggested
stringing the births apart over several months to give him a steady supply of
milk, now he was glad he didn’t go that route. The months without milk would
give him some more free time to get other projects off the ground.

He had been lucky, only two still
birth rabbits, and one still birth raccoon. He had even managed to resuscitate
a pup. He was quite pleased by that. The Cheetah had eaten the still births
with only a few bites.

The tank was filled; he shut the
valves, let the hose drain, then unhooked it and coiled it. The robot trundled
the tank off to the cheese factory. He turned and pulled out his Bluetooth,
ordering a donk to relocate one of the three sub stations to the center of the
field between the windmills and solar farm. One of the donks moved from their
park into action. He nodded then smacked his hat against his thigh as he
trotted to catch up to the milk truck.

The first steps with the cheese
making were mostly automated, so once he got the ball rolling with the heaters
and renate he headed off to the substation. A pair of GP robots were there
already, stringing new cables to the solar farm and the wind generators. He
disconnected the line connectors, and then reconnected the new ones. A donk
trundled up with a trio of replacement panels for the burned out solar cells,
the burned wiring and melted plastic was enough to tell him they weren’t worth
trying to salvage. He disconnected them then had them sent to the recycling
pile. He ordered the donk to return with a lightning tower, he was damned if he
was going to allow a second occurrence. He didn’t have the power or equipment
to spare.

With the base perimeter mostly
secured he no longer had the added power drain of a second perimeter to
maintain, nor did he have to constantly recharge the tractors and donks to move
the trailers to and fro. The tractors had required hydrogen, draining his
reserves each night. Now the reserve tank was finally beginning to fill. When
it was topped off he would be able to shut the compressor down and power more
equipment.

A security alert made his Bluetooth
beep insistently. He fumbled it out of his breast pocket and placed it in his
ear, catching the tail end of the message. “Repeat message,” he ordered.

“Perimeter alert. Human, quadrant
three, five kilometers North by North west.” Amazed he instinctively turned
around until he oriented in the correct direction. He shaded his eyes but
couldn't see anything; the distant tree line were cluttering his vision.

He walked over to the hummer.
“Command. Shunt visual to car...” he ordered. He looked for its number and then
grimaced. “Car five,” he finished with a sigh. He sighed in annoyance as he got
in and squished down into the still wet seat. The laptop sprang to life; he
could see the outline of a person, possibly a male staggering out of the tree
line. Concern etched Mitch's brow. “Command. Launch UAV two circle unknown.” He
pointed to the human on the screen, and then circled it with his finger.

“Acknowledged,” the AI voice
confirmed. He drove to the gate, then along the line of boxes. The UAV
launched, then banked and reoriented toward the north.

“Command, magnify and enhance,”
Mitch ordered. He watched as the visual jumped forward and blurred, then
settled into a visual of a wounded terrified man running for his life. He was a
brunette, sun burnt, with a beard. His clothes were ripped and torn, but he
clutched at a makeshift spear. His look over his shoulder and terrified expression
was all Mitch needed to know. “Damn, Command, Security Alert. Visual search the
unknown’s back trail.” He watched, but the computer balked at the command.

“Unknown parameter set. Redirect
please,” the AI responded, beeping angrily.

Mitch accelerated. “COMMAND!
Security Alert!” He pursed his lips in thought. The man suddenly looked over
his shoulder, and then tried to run faster. Blurry shapes could be seen behind
him. The depth of field matrix was tuning them out.

“Command, visual pull back.
Reorient one hundred meters around unknown,” Mitch ordered. The screen blurred
then focused again. He could see the distant shapes of raptors, raptors moving
at cheetah speed.

“Go, go go!” he said to the guy,
pushing the accelerator pedal to the floor, watching as the ran for his life,
instinctively knowing it won’t be enough. The man looked over his shoulder and
stumbled over a rock, he went down flaying. “DAMN!” Mitch screamed, pounding
the horn. “Get up get up!” The horn blared again, but the raptors weren’t
dissuaded. One got within striking range and leapt. The spear lanced up,
catching the raptor in the abdomen and spearing it before breaking under the
weight. The raptor fell beside the man, cawing and coughing. He scrambled to
get up, but with his back turned a second raptor broke through the grass close
enough and leapt, toe talons gleaming. The man went down with a muted cry as
the raptor tore into him.

Frustrated tears well in Mitch's
eyes as he pounded the steering wheel. “Damn damn damn!” He was so close, but
so far. A kilometer to go. The rest of the pack surrounded the kill, sickened
he watched as one tore into the man and ran off with a hand flopping in its
mouth. Cold rage washed through him. He pulled out the Barrett and flipped the
safety off.

He pulled up three hundred meters
away, deployed the robot for local defense and then popped the top hatch and
set up. Coldly he watched through the scope, fingering the trigger gently until
he had a good bead. He let out his breath and squeezed as he was taught, the
loud bark of the rifle was a surprise to him as much as the animal the poison
dart hit. The raptor went down thrashing. Cursing he fumbled the earplugs into
his ears then lined up for a second shot.

The other raptors were looking
around now, he was still downwind of them, so they didn’t have his scent. They
could probably see him, but they might not associate him with the shot.
Flipping the bolt back and forth, he felt the hot brass drop onto his arm then
fall into the truck. He lined up for the second shot, found a nice female and
popped her right behind the arm about mid chest. She went down but he didn’t
pay attention, already lining up on the next animal. With cold precision he
popped three more before they locked onto him and the report of the rifle. Six
more raptors were left, including the returning juvenile. He wanted them all,
but the adults were the priority.