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

the cafeteria, and people would appear uncomfortable, and move to a different table. The colonists that weren’t afraid of him had a thousand questions, and he grew tired of trying to explain himself. He began to throw himself into his work. He gathered his men, and told them his entire story, leaving nothing out. They assured him they were there for him and would do what they could to make his life a little easier.

The one thing that didn’t change was the support from his real friends. They gathered to discuss his situation the night after the attack, to let him know they would do everything they could to persuade the colonists that Al was not a threat to the colony, but an asset.

Elizabeth Morris converted her two habitats, placed end to end, into a comfortable place to live—or visit. She kept the onboard parts printers busy on the Excalibur producing window shades, louvered cabinets, dishes, and numerous other home furnishings. Cloth curtains framed each window, ready to be closed when the sun became annoying, and as most women seem to enjoy having pillows about, there were plenty to go around.

“I’ll sit with you when you go to breakfast...if you want?” volunteered Liz, “Actually, I like that idea. They’ll know I’m on your side.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Ana said in agreement. “How about we all join you. We should probably get together for all our meals. We can’t have you eating alone.”

Kayla, Cody, and the captain agreed. Chris was at the jail keeping Tammy company.

Liz confessed with a hint of a smile, “I was hoping to have a nice quiet breakfast, just Al and I.”

Cody laughed and said with his Haitian accent, “Now Elizabeth, there will be plenty of time for that once we convince the good people of Camelot that Al Clark is not a bad man and someone to fear.”

They made arrangements to meet for breakfast, and eventually, everyone said their goodbyes and left to go to their homes—except for Liz and Al, who were left sitting side-by-side on a love seat.

“I was serious about having breakfast; just you and me. I like you, Al—as a person. I would love to get to know that person better.”

“You’re going to make me blush.”

“Can you...blush I mean?”

“I don’t think so, but it sure feels like I should be.”

They sat for a while unsure of what to say, until Al volunteered, “I like you too Liz, and I have been wanting to spend more time with you.” A crooked smile greeted her glance.

Before things got too awkward, Al stood up and said, “Umm...I need to get going. I’ve got to get up early.” He was quickly becoming uncomfortable, and he knew it showed. Nevertheless, he gave her a peck on the cheek before he made his way out the door.

****

THEY LEARNED THE CRAFTY beasts had dislodged a large boulder and sent it careening down a hill, rolled over a fence post, and opened the electronic fence for their invasion. It required almost a week to accomplish the repairs brought about by the rampaging creatures. To bury the Riktor carcasses alone required two days, and the replacement of the fence added to that total. The colony took the time to mourn and bury the unlucky couple that died seeking safety, and the Camelot cemetery grew a little larger.

Seven days after the attack of the Riktors, the villagers gathered and brought the long anticipated trial to a conclusion, with a somewhat anti-climactic ending.

Tammy Shoemaker was found guilty.

It was determined she had willfully sabotaged their ship, threatening all their lives and had to be made accountable. However, the testimony given by the defense gave the jury pause about recommending capital punishment, and after much discussion, she was sentenced to live a life of community service. Which ironically is what all the colonists agreed to when they joined the expedition. In her case, though, she would wear an ankle bracelet to record her movements, and assist anyone that had need of her skills. She would be free; with restrictions.

Even after Tammy was escorted out, to be fitted for her anklet, the settlers continued to sit in the bleachers. There was another issue they wanted addressed, and they seemed reluctant to leave until their leaders addressed their questions. Chris stayed behind, feeling something serious was about to happen.

Al could hear the whispers and the muted discussions of the crowd as they worked up the nerve to speak aloud. Finally, one gentleman stood up, raised his voice, and asked the question uppermost on the settler’s minds.

“Mister Clark...are you human?”

This question had haunted Al a lot lately, and he was glad to finally be able to bare his soul, “Yes sir, I am a human being—fitted with a robotic body.”

“Isn’t that another way of saying cyborg?” a woman yelled.

The term Cyborg promoted fear. Science fiction dramas always depicted them as killers and destroyers. The combination of man and machine is usually portrayed as an experiment gone wrong; creating man-made monsters.

“I don’t think of myself as a cyborg. I guess, by some definitions, I might be considered one. I really don’t know. I think of myself as a human with a prosthetic body.”

“Have you ever hurt anybody...even accidentally?” she pressed.

Al decided it was time. Somehow, he needed to make them understand he had their best interests at heart. He simplified his situation for everyone by telling them his life’s story—the parts he knew at least. He started with his rude awakening, and for thirty minutes was given their undivided attention.

Al ended his confession with the dispatching of the dinosaur they all witnessed. He explained his strengths as somewhat better than normal, and why he believed it necessary to keep his abilities secret. For his own safety, he made no mention of his dual-mode system or the fact that his power-pack was limited.

When he finished speaking, the building was so quiet you could have heard a nail drop on a dirt floor. It was a lot of information to process, and the silence lasted for a good minute or two.

Chris picked this opportunity to defend his friend, “Chief Al Clark is one of my closest friends, and I would trust my life to him. As a matter of fact—I have. He has always come through for me. If I were ever in trouble, he would be the first person I’d turn to.”

One by one his friends stood up and expressed their feelings for Al. How they trusted him to know the right thing to do and the fact that he was a good man with extraordinary abilities. Chris, Ana, Kayla, Liz, Doctor Cody, Doctor Florida, and a few others had their share of good things to say. Robot Nine assured them, “You have nothing to fear from Al Clark.”

When they completed their statements, the captain took his turn.

“Mister Clark was an experiment that went right. I’m sure that Doctor Hawthorne, his creator—if he were alive—would consider Al’s transformation a complete success. As an officer, I have never worked with better. As a person, I consider him a trusted friend. The people fortunate enough to call him friend—are lucky indeed.”

Captain Effinger thought for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and added, “We all come from a world full of prejudice that has stunted human growth for thousands of years. Here, I believed we had gotten past all that and could treat each other with respect as equals. Al is here, he is one-of-a-kind, and we should thank our lucky stars that he is the man he is. If not for him, there is a good chance we would all be dead. Keep that in mind as you pass judgment on him.”

Al Clark felt pretty good when he left that crowded meetinghouse, surrounded by his friends. They shielded him from the many questions and protected him from the few that were still openly hostile. A man can also be judged by the strength of his friends.

Things got slowly better after that. He felt more at home. He had no secrets, and he had the added benefit of friends he could trust to stand by him. How much more can a man want?

****

THE MONTHS PASSED, and Camelot became a village. There was much to do, and the colonists learned to work together. The Sansi wanted to repay the Kuthra for saving them from the Riktors—and brought Kira as a sacrifice; which the gods graciously declined. Their mercy made Kira and her clan both grateful and relieved.

The natives confirmed that the Riktors in the immediate area had been wiped out, and until more moved their way, they were safe from the beasts. For the first time in their lives, the Sansi could go outside at night and no longer fear the wrath of their ancient nemesis.

With the help of Rahul and Cindy, the indigenous people were eventually convinced that the people they thought of as gods were not omnipotent. The Kuthra were as mortal as the Sansi. Nevertheless, the Sansi marveled at their new friend’s intelligence, kindness, and mysterious technology. Their benefactors began teaching them and assisting with a limited number of improvements to their lives. One of the first miracles they received was a steel knife that could slice and cut almost without resistance.

The Earthlings could not dissuade the natives of Avalon from their belief that their ancient prophecy, foretold generations before, had come true. The Kuthra came from the stars to save them from the Riktors. This fact was one truth they would write into their journals for future generations.

Seeds from the seed bank on board the Excalibur were brought down and planted, and crops begun. Frozen embryos of farm stock, in unique hibernation pods of their own, were revived and eventually raised into cows, chickens, pigs, and sheep. While they waited for the livestock to get old enough to be useful, they hunted the local game.

The hunting was good, and the captain began to experiment with Avalonian wild game in an attempt to replicate a good old-fashioned hamburger. The laser rifles made it almost too easy. Still, the taste of a traditional burger eluded him.

The winter was harsh at times. The settlers expected this and were prepared, which allowed them to make it through without too much difficulty.

Doc Cody met someone. She was an agricultural engineer that proved to be a lovely woman with many of the same interests as he. They could be seen walking the perimeter late at night holding hands. He was black, and she was white. It bothered no one.

They threw a birthday party for Tammy with a little help from Chris and his friends that left her in tears. When Christmas day rolled around, they gave her so many presents she needed two people to help carry them home. Chris said she cried for an hour.

Chris and Tammy got married. It was a foregone conclusion when one saw how they looked at each other. Few were surprised when it was revealed they were expecting a child.

Ana and Kayla were spending a lot of time together and were the best of friends. Some even considered them a couple. Very few found it odd.

Doctor Florida laboriously repaired Robot Nine, and even equipped him with some enhancements. He now had three legs—to match his three arms—that he