AL Clark, Jonathan G. Meyer [the little red hen ebook .TXT] 📗

Al said, “If that’s true it’s a good thing. We don’t want to surprise them. Is that right, Cindy?”

Cindy agreed, “It is better not to show up out of nowhere.”

Al wanted to keep moving. Their time was limited before they needed to head back to camp. “We are almost there everybody, so keep your eyes open. Let’s move on.”

The natives were not surprised, and a welcoming party dressed in their finest furs and embellishments was waiting when they arrived. A dozen members of the tribe were lined up on their knees with their foreheads touching the ground; waiting for their gods to acknowledge them. The two young natives Al and Liz met were there kneeling with the others.

Al nodded at the specialists and Rahul took the lead. He walked across the line smiling and gesturing for them to stand. The natives hesitantly stood but kept their eyes firmly on the ground. Rahul positioned himself before the center individual, who appeared to be the eldest and the best dressed. He presented him with a bar of chocolate. The Elder accepted the gift with a broad smile and motioned for the youngest of his group to present the natives tribute.

The gift Rahul received was the most unique necklace Al had ever seen. It was woven from a fine colored hair that produced a thin sixteen-inch-long multi-colored chain of crafted beauty. The presenter removed it from around his neck and handed it to Rahul, who ceremoniously placed it around his neck.

“I call dibs on the necklace,” he announced.

“You can’t do that,” Cindy protested.

“Okay you two,” said Al.

When Rahul presented each of the welcoming party with a bar of chocolate, they were happy at first, until it occurred to some of them they had only one gift, and received twelve. Al could see their thoughts become conflicted. They were afraid the one necklace wasn’t enough tribute. After the gods assured them their tribute was sufficient, they were invited up to the caves.

The uncertain natives ushered the visitors into a large room, with two dozen spectators standing respectfully to the side. Soft brushed hide pillows lay on flat rocks and acted as seats, and an abundance of food on a large wooden table waited for the visitor’s pleasure.

The natives loosened up in time, and a stuttering dialog began. They all enjoyed the exotic food, and the delicious fare helped to put both groups at ease.

The specialists did most of the talking since they were the experts. There were universal gestures such as a nod meaning yes and a head shake meaning no. However, the bulk of communication was through facial expressions, pointing at various things, and drawing on the dirt floor.

The colonists learned a lot about their new home and its inhabitants that day. They were told the winters in the mountains were cold, and how much the natives loved the blankets given to them by their guests. With looks of amazement, they accepted the aluminum alloy cooking pots, and it became apparent the tribe would treasure the hard, shiny, cookery. The canteens, with their magical screw-top-caps and insulating coatings, would make carrying and storing water much easier; which the natives loved.

In time, the discussion turned to dangerous animals. There were many predators on Avalon, but the king of the meat eating beasts were the Riktors. The Sansi were terrified of the creatures that killed Rudy and almost always hunted in pairs.

They learned the two rampaging monsters killed by the settlers were part of a territorial group of ten or so, which terrorized and ate every native out after dark. The caves they were so proud of acted as their refuge, and provided shelter from the predators of Avalon for generations.

The natives were family oriented, intelligent, and loved to laugh. It took some time to explain the human's desire for one of the Sansi to visit the colonists at their camp. He or she would temporarily live with the settlers and learn the human language. The ability to communicate was the biggest stumbling block to their relationship, and the specialists deemed that teaching the natives English was priority one. In two days’ time, one lucky Avalonian would be living with the Gods.

The natives escorted the colonists halfway to the settlement, and then rushed back to beat the coming darkness. The greeting party also hurried home.

THE RETURN TRIP WAS an easy walk, with three to four-foot greenery lining the path they followed, and they were making good time. Just outside the fence, and inside the Watchers perimeter, a bush reached out and grabbed Al’s leg.

A long red tongue wrapped itself around his ankle and was trying to pull him to it. Al told everyone to get back, drew his sidearm, and put a hole into the attacking appendage. There was an anguished scream, and the tongue released him and retreated. A three foot tall cross between an anteater and an armadillo bolted out of the bush and disappeared into the woods. A few nearby bushes rattled as several others took the opportunity to do the same.

Al cried, “Whoa—what was that? It almost had me!” Ten feet in front of Al and at the front of the procession, was the robot. “Were you sleeping Robot Nine?”

The two arms facing him went up. “I am sorry, Al Clark. My sensors detected no dangers. I will add this new creature to my threat programs...and I do not sleep.”

Al took a few steps and decided he could go on. He looked up at the darkening sky, and then to the people surrounding him.

“We better keep moving...it’s getting late.”

His leg didn’t hurt much; it just felt a little tingly. It did not seem to affect his walking, and there were no cuts on his pant leg, so he figured it was all right. When they reached the fence, they collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Their first contact excursion was over.

As they passed through the gate, Al was struck by the progress they had already achieved. In only two days, the primitive camp was already changing into a little town. A soft hum permeated the air from portable power supplies, and lights were flickering on to keep the darkness at bay.

With all the added colonists, progress in Camelot was accelerating. The shuttles had unloaded and returned to the ship for more people and supplies. Four habitats were complete, with level surfaces prepared for four more. Most of the trees inside the perimeter had been cut down and used to make numerous forms of lumber. Nothing was left to waste with even the sawdust used to fill sidewalks to keep the mud down.

Al sent Robot Nine to make its rounds, checked with his men, and then sat down in one of the habitats to do some paperwork. He plugged in his data pad to recharge and bent down to raise his pant leg and check his ankle.

When he pulled the pant leg up, he was shocked by what he saw. An inch above his boot was a circular wound, with a red furrow that went through the skin and clear to the bone. He was horrified. He felt little pain, and there was not enough blood for it to be this bad.

How have I been walking around on this? Why doesn’t it hurt like crazy?

He bent down further for a closer look.

The bone doesn’t look white; it looks kind of...silver; and there are wires?

Al Clark grabbed a clean towel to wipe the blood away.

That is not bone; that’s metal...I have a metal leg?

Al leaned back and took a deep breath. He was staring at the far wall with unseeing eyes; his mind busy with what this discovery might mean.

Are both legs artificial? Would that explain his ability to run? Don’t both legs have to match to keep from falling?

A dozen possibilities scrolled through his mind, and with the world on hold, he sat unmoving for several minutes. One conclusion he came to was he needed help, and someone he could trust. He also knew Doc Cody was setting up one of the habitats as a clinic nearby, so he rolled his trouser leg down and went to see him.

The doctor was alone when he entered, and Al wasted no time showing him his leg.

“What on Earth....ah...what has happened to you?” Cody asked.

“I was attacked by a giant ant-eater/armadillo on the way back. The leg tingles, but it doesn’t hurt, and I’ve been walking around on it for two hours since the attack. It hardly bothers me at all. Something else Doc...I think there is metal inside.”

Doc smiled and asked Al, “Now why would you think that Mister Clark?”

“Take a look if you don’t believe me.”

After a quick examination, the doctor discovered Al was indeed correct.

“You did not know about this?” his friend asked.

“Umm—amnesia Doc, remember?”

“Oh...yes, sorry.”

Doctor Cody was now intrigued. He told Al to sit on the bed, and Cody took a closer look. “I have never seen anything like this. Your leg does not look artificial. Please, lie down so I can scan it,” ordered the doctor.

The portable scanner was already set up, and it took only a few minutes to complete the scan. Cody’s face grew puzzled. He made some changes to the machine and scanned again, this time, the scanner went from head to toe. Al could see his face, but not the monitor he was looking at with wide eyes. Doc Cody’s expression was puzzling.

“What do you see Cody?” Al begged.

The physician appeared deep in thought for a second; then he shook off whatever was clogging his thinking and locked the door. He pulled the curtains on the windows so no one could see inside. He returned to Al looking hesitant, flustered, and maybe a little scared.

“I do not know how to tell you this, my friend.” He glanced again at the screen as if disbelieving his eyes. Cody turned to him with conflicted eyes and said, “It appears, Al...that you are not human.”

Al jumped up and swung around to look at the monitor. What he saw was not what he expected to see inside a human body. The screen revealed mechanical and electrical components; with thin metal rods, micropumps, tiny circuit structures, and ribbons of complex wiring connecting everything together. Where his heart should be—a red power supply glowed.

“I’m a robot?”

Chapter Fourteen

Al almost laughed until he realized it might make him appear crazy. His reality had changed when Cody said those words. A flurry of thoughts became jumbled and confused, and he swayed a little where he stood.

“I think you had better sit down, Al,” Cody recommended.

Feeling light headed, Al nodded and sat down on the scanner bed, mumbled some incoherent things the doctor couldn’t make out and passed out, or crashed. Whatever the case might be, the news was too much for anybody, and Al shut down.

Later, Al asked Cody, “How long was I asleep?”

“About thirty minutes. That is how long it takes to reboot all your systems. I watched each of them come back online with the