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

The night was the time of monsters. Al and his men had adopted the local name for the beasts, and when the sun went down, they knew the ‘Riktors’ would be hunting. While four of his people were patrolling the camp, two more monitored the feed coming from the watchers. Sleep was something done during the day.

He decided to walk the fence and check the installation. He wanted to make sure it was working as intended. Al stopped by the security office and informed his men. Then he grabbed a powerful flashlight and a rifle—just in case one of the monsters was stupid enough to try something—and he left. His mood was such that he almost wished they would try something.

Walking the fence was therapeutic. Insects buzzed, and animals called to each other in voices of their own. The noises of the night reminded him of Earth on a pleasant spring evening. There were large versions of fireflies that dotted the landscape, their tails blinking as they make lazy circles in the air. If it weren’t for the occasional animal scream or savage growl in the distance, it would have been more relaxing.

The perimeter posts that generated the fence were designed to stun. Now and then his flashlight would spotlight some creature that attempted to pass through the invisible barrier. The paralyzing effect started at the bottom and got progressively stronger until it reached the ten-foot level. Sometimes, a creature stunned by the fence would wake up a half-hour later and go the wrong way; paralyzing themselves again.

In one section Al found evidence of a large animal that tried the fence, smashing some small bushes and leaving the ground marked with the fall of its body. Further down, he found another spot where it attempted to break through again. This creature is persistent.

When he reached the part of the perimeter furthest from the main camp and its lights, in the darkest part of the line of fence poles, he found a hole dug under the fence. A rather large hole dug hurriedly since sunset. Claw tracks led away from the hole, headed in the direction of Camelot.

“We have an intruder,” Al announced over the radio. “The southwest corner fence has been compromised, and tracks lead inbound. If it is a Riktor, remember—they may hunt in pairs. I am making my way in from the compromised section of the fence.”

He could hear his men commanding everyone to get to the habitats as he followed the tracks toward town.

In a tent next to a half-finished habitat module, he heard someone screaming. His flashlight beam lit the back of an angry monster, at least eight foot tall, dragging a woman out through a tear in the tent. He had her by the legs with his front claws and was pulling her from the safety of her home. She was kicking and screaming and doing her best to make his intentions difficult.

Al looked around for an accomplice and didn’t see one. It appeared to be alone. He yelled, “Hey—over here!” It was crucial he get the creature away from the woman. A man ran out through the tent flap and helped to distract the determined Riktor, and to his credit, the man was a fast runner.

The monster turned his attention to Al. One of his officers appeared twenty feet to his side and followed the Chief’s example. In a rage, the beast looked back and forth trying to decide which human to attack. Both men began moving backward, attempting to draw it away from the tent and the victim.

The Riktor dropped the woman, and she jumped up and ran to safety. Then it started moving towards them roaring his displeasure. As the creature moved out, the two men circled slowly around to get a clear line of fire. When the time was right, Al screamed, “Fire!”

The monster was no match for the laser rifles; set to maximum; they almost cut him in half. His final roar died in his throat, and he fell hard to the ground.

Al was running over to check on the woman when the second Riktor exploded from behind a neighboring habitat not twenty feet away. With an ear-splitting roar, it thundered toward Al. He had no time to think. There was nothing else he could do but let instinct take over, and he fell onto his back to the dirt. The surprised beast flew over him, and the beam from Al’s rifle opened it up. The first monster’s partner dropped to the dirt in a heap behind him.

That is how Al got his fourth Riktor. He was a hero to the colonist’s—again, and now a mortal enemy of the surviving beasts.

IT WASN’T LONG AFTER the battle that his headache returned. It started at annoying and moved towards just bearable within an hour. Eventually, it progressed to the point where he was forced to excuse himself and went to lie down. In the security quarters, he dropped into one of the bunks and promptly fell asleep.

The dream was incredibly real this time. Al could smell the grass, hear the wind, and see for miles over the bright and beautiful countryside. The person running up the hill was still fuzzy. As she got closer her dress turned blue, and she looked vaguely familiar. Whatever it was she was trying to tell him never became clear enough to understand.

Al awoke six hours later with only a trace of the pain, and bright sunshine shone through glowing orange curtains. Al did not move right away; contemplating his headache and the reason behind it. He concluded stress made his headaches worse, and it was something he needed to avoid. He got up hoping he could catch Cody before he left and let him know about the newest developments.

The doctor was already gone when Al reached the shuttle pads, and he told himself it was just as well. Doc Cody looked worried enough when he last saw him.

Al opted to stay busy. There were fences that needed reinforcing. He had excavators dig a ten-foot trench six inches wide between each post, and then the machine filled the channels with a fast drying polymer that dried harder than concrete. A deep tunnel would have to be dug to get under the fence, and Al supervised the entire thing.

Since the machines did most of the work, all he had to do was make sure the fence posts were not damaged. His men took responsibility for the security of the town when it became apparent Al was struggling with something.

He was finishing up and taking care of last minute details when he saw the shuttle touch down in the late afternoon the following day. Al made his way to the shuttle pad and watched as Doc Cody, followed closely by Edward Florida, stepped quickly over to Al.

Cody wasted no time with small talk and told him straight away, “You need to come back to the ship. We need to run some tests, but it appears you need surgery. Dr. Florida has detected some swelling of your brain, which is more than likely causing your headaches. We need to remove the meteoroid fragment as soon as possible.”

“Are you telling me I need brain surgery?” Al had avoided considering the idea. Brain surgery was something he thought of as dangerous, painful, and with terrible odds of success.

Doctor Florida wanted somewhere more private, so they went to the clinic. Once inside, with the doors locked and the curtains drawn, his friends attempted to console him.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” said Edward. “We simply have to make an incision around the head and get access to the brain pan cover. Lift the lid, and we can then remove the meteoroid and prevent further damage.”

Al did not like the sound of any of this.

He tried some humor, “I feel much better now, maybe it will go away on its own.”

Cody told him, “This will only get worse, my friend.”

Doc Cody was concerned and was afraid Al was running out of time. He agreed with Edward and wanted to perform the operation without delay.

Al knew he had no choice, and gave in. “All right. How will this work?”

Cody and Edward glanced at one another, each in silent agreement, and Cody explained, “We will have to perform the surgery on the ship in doctor Florida’s diagnostic room. I will make the incision to open the cover, and Ed will remove the fragment. Then we just close the cover and stitch the incision. You will be right as rain in no time.”

“I’m not going to walk around like Frankenstein and make grunting noises am I?”

“Now Al, you should take this seriously,” pleaded Cody.

“No electricity to the temples or anything like that?”

“Al...please,” begged Cody.

Al gave them a grin and said, “All right already. When do we leave?”

“Pack yourself a bag and be prepared to be gone for a week or so. We have permission to use a shuttle, and we leave in thirty minutes.”

Cody turned and started filling a suitcase with what he thought he might need from the clinic. Doctor Florida studied Al’s scan while Al went to pack a bag and let his men know he was leaving. He made a quick trip to his tiny sleeping quarters, and the security shack, and ten minutes later they were on the shuttle and headed to the Excalibur.

The captain met them on the hangar floor of the ship and escorted them directly to the robotics shop. “Good luck Mister Clark, just listen to the doctors and everything will be all right. Don’t worry—we’ll take care of everything.”

He turned to Edward and asked to be kept informed, posted a guard on the outside door, and left to attend to his ship.

Inside the room, they ran some tests, and when they were ready, they had him step into a tube recessed into the floor that placed his head at shoulder height. They then filled it with a special foam that immobilized him.

Edward, the not always funny roboticist, would have put it like this. “We locked him down, opened his lid, removed a grain of metal, and closed him back up.”

Not that it was quite that simple, but the operation did go pretty much according to plan. Two hours later, Al was sleeping comfortably in a recovery bed. The doctors were standing to the side discussing their friend and the operation.

“Do you think he will be okay Edward?” asked Cody.

“We never know with brain injuries. The connection to the body is complex and delicate. We can only hope he does not become worse. I don’t think we did more damage, though, because the foreign matter came out so easily. I am very optimistic.”

Cody asked the question Al had asked, “You are a robotic specialist and have had some time to go over Al’s operational manual. Can you tell me what his capabilities will be when he recovers fully?”

With a seriousness that surprised Cody, Edward replied, “Without restrictions, he could be almost unstoppable. The documentation describes abilities far above a normal human. He could be the very thing that allows us to remain here. On the other hand, there are those that will fear him, and they may try to cause him harm.”

Doctor Edward Florida had read the manual and had a pretty good idea