Bootstrap Colony (45 page)

Mitch shrugged. “Possibly. You
will have to judge your actions based off of current status and what was
intended.” They bobbed a bit at this concept.

“
Agreed. We will attend to
this and contact you at a later time unit.”

He nodded and bowed. ”Thank you
for your time.” The surroundings swirled, then they found themselves back on
the planet and in the base’s Great Hall. Janet gave a gushing sigh of relief,
theatrically falling into a nearby chair. Travis made for the nearby bar.

“Thanks for the information,
don’t call us, we’ll call you huh?” Doc commented. Janet gave a shaky laugh.
Others echoed it.

“So you left a contingency plan
to try to get people to stop the asteroid Mitch?” Gunny asked, giving Mitch a
long appraising look. There was quite a bit of approval and a little amusement
in it.

Mitch nodded and then shrugged.
“Yeah, but you know the damn politicians. The ones that doubt it will scream
bloody murder about wasting money, throwing every road block they can.” His
voice dropped an octave “The sky is falling? Bushwa! Just another pork barrel
plan to draw tax payer money away from my sacred cow!”

Travis and Gunny chuckled. “Then
when they finally conclusively prove it is on course, they will doubt it for a
while, and then bitch because nothing has been done to stop it,” Mitch finished
darkly, taking a sip of his beer.

Travis chuckled and nodded. “I
hope the damn thing lands on them.” He shook his head, looking at his drink.

“I dare say, I would love to see
how those bloaks altered the DNA of the animals,” Ducky commented, adjusting
his glasses. “They must have somehow stopped the DNA from mutating and turned
on recessive genes,” he said sounding excited about the idea.

Maggie nodded. “That left natural
selection,” she said. Mitch nodded then gave Janet a look.

“Did you get anywhere with the
others?” Mitch asked them. Janet and Maggie nodded.

“We will dictate a report in a
moment,” Janet replied dryly. “Just let us catch our breaths will you?” He
nodded.

After a long moment of silence
Mitch dryly commented that he hoped he hasn’t sent them into a fatal error.

Janet looked confused, but Doc
grinned. “No control alt delete? Reset?” Pete snickered catching on. Janet
looked more confused, demanded to know what was going on.

“Well it is like this. That oh so
powerful alien society? Well it seems they left behind some robots a hundred or
so million years ago. Now they programmed them to save species under threat of
extinction. But, we just dumped a whole lot of problems on them, pointing out
their own mistakes as well as paradoxes in their own programming,” Mitch
answered as he hugged Doc.

Janet looked dubious...”You're
telling me you screwed up their programming?”

He chuckled. “No, their own
actions did most of the work; we just pointed it out to them.”

She nodded... “Okay then. Lunch anyone?”
Janet asked, gathering herself as she got up. Doc looked surprised then began
to laugh. Others in the room soon joined in.

Mitch leaned over to her. “And
life went on,” he murmured kissing her. Chuckling they left the chamber.

The End.

Yup, I know this
book has a lot of errors. Sorry about that, I recently tried to clean them up
but I know I overlooked some... I always do I guess. Things fall through the
cracks and are overlooked and all those other excuses. :P

But, I am getting
better, and it's the story that matters in the end. Hopefully you enjoyed it.
There are more where that came from!

My
blog:

http://cyberforge3d.blogspot.com/

In writing this story I used a
lot of sources for references. Many are on the web. What can I say, Wiki is
your friend. :) You can also find a lot of material at your local library.

Dinosaurs:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deinonychus

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utahraptor

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Struthiomimus

Animals:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indricotherium

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prehistoric_mammal

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sivatherium

http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Tauntaun

Weapons:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barrett_M82

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magpul_Masada

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragon_Skin_body_armor

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fougasse_(weapon)#Flame

Robots:

http://www.technovelgy.com/ct/Science-Fiction-News.asp?NewsNum=54

http://www.rec.ri.cmu.edu/projects/crusher/index.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ED-209

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unmanned_Ground_Combat_Vehicle

Vehicles:

http://www.fas.org/programs/ssp/man/uswpns/air/rotary/h53.html

Construction:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cement

Useful
tidbits:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alcaligenes_eutrophus

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BioSteel

http://www.kingsnake.com/toxinology/conotoxins.html

http://www.cryolife.com/about/research/emerging/biofoam

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survival_skills

Afraid
Of the Dark

Afraid of the
Dark is not your ordinary Alien Invasion story. Here is a little bit about what
I mean:

Bobby pulled his ear pieces out of his
ears and pocketed the IPod as they walked. "Now look Chuck, just follow my
lead. It’s not that hard once you get into it. It’s not just the rhythm I'm
saying, it’s what to look out for," Bobby said pointing to the house they
were about to B&E. Breaking and Entering had become something of a really
dangerous thing now. But vital for survival.

There were eight harvesters for each
shooter on the teams. Together the harvesters could clear a house in ten or
fifteen minutes. They were getting really good but the job was both exhausting
and dangerous. Very dangerous.

"He means you get used to it? I
never have," Jody said shaking her head as the crew hefted tools and
walked up the path. She turned to survey the teams moving up other walks to
neighboring houses. Occasionally she could hear the shattering of glass or an
off pitch scream. Just another day in paradise, she thought as she grimaced.

"Move people, we're burning
daylight," Hadji said waving them onward and inward. "Kitchen, food,
don't forget the cleaning supplies and check carefully!" Hadji said.

"Shit man," Chuck muttered,
looking around the dilapidated house. It was pretty wrecked, with holes in the
walls and smears of things he didn't even want to know about. “The smell...” he
coughed, hand going to his face.

"Yeah, that part I forgot to
mention," Bobby said pulling his bandana up to cover his face. He handed
the rookie a face mask. "Scented with cologne. My last one so keep it
good."

"Yeah man," Chuck said,
feeling his eyes water as he hastily slipped the mask on. The scent of Axe
filled his nostrils. He didn't like that the others were laying odds he
wouldn't last the day. Hell if he'd give in after his first house. This had to
be easier than pushing a broom and cleaning toilets. The real action was right
here he realized, not the docks as he'd originally assumed. They only got what
the harvesters brought to them. He was going to make a killing here on the
black market pretty quick. A week or two and he'd rest easy for a month and not
have to lift a finger.

He grimaced at the thought and then
shook his head. With wise investment he might make his gains last longer. He
made a mental note to find something or someone to invest in. There had to be
something out there. A piece of the action was all he asked. All he deserved.

That was all they had for him. Him, who
had once been a broker, reduced to scrubbing toilets just to eat.
Hell
.
Hell with that. They were just keeping him down. He'd show them, prove them all
wrong. He knew there was a way to move up in their community, it had taken time
but he'd finally identified it. The shoppers made a killing on the black market
with what they brought in. If they could do it, hell, so could he.

"Anything we should know
about?" Bobby asked, turning to Hadji who was standing by the door. It was
a typical single story ranch house, normal for this section of tract housing.
It was an older house, near the center of town. Before the alien invasion probably
worth $150k. Now it wasn't worth the matches it took to burn it down.

Hell of a thing, the damn aliens
arriving as they did. Now they were trying to etch out a living in this fallen
world, trying to stay alive in all things a mall. The mall. A teenage girl's
paradise.

"What am I a psychic? Just mind the
holes and watch for a jack as usual," Hadji said, hefting a fire ax.

"Shit," Bobby muttered,
turning new eyes on the holes. Hadji and was an ass, his crew barely any
better. They tended to get sloppy if the boss wasn't around to watch over them.
And of course he was busy. Great. "You heard the man, mind the holes, that
means steer clear of them and keep one eye on them. Jody, hit the..."

"Bathrooms, I know," she said
moving off. Hadji followed. Chuck's brow knit. Now why were they checking the
bathrooms? Wasn't like they could eat tooth paste or soap. Then again... he
shook himself. He had to be on his A game. Kendra, his wife of ten years hadn't
been happy when he'd told her of this fresh endeavor. She hadn't said so out
loud. He knew it rankled her, a bank manager, climbing the corporate ladder now
reduced to folding clothes in the improvised laundry. Hell if he'd let his wife
do that the rest of his life if he could help it. They had just moved into a seven
hundred and fifty thousand dollar house, one that had been valued during the
bubble for $1.7 million... and now it was all gone. So much garbage. No. He'd
find a way to make it right and get back on top. He just needed an angle and an
opening.

"Anything in here? Ollie Ollie in
free..." a voice said. They turned to see the boss man and a pair of his
crew coming down the hall. "Nothing big here, there could be something in
the walls." He looked over to the pile of excrement under the skylight. A
bit dripped down. He frowned. "Fresh. That’s not a good sign. Mind the
holes."

"Yeah boss we know," Bobby
said nodding and watching the holes warily. "Kitchen clear?"

"So far," Shane said, shaking
his head. He moved off to check the garage.

"Who was that?" Chuck asked,
nodding his chin to the military guy walking off. The guy looked like a walking
fortress, body armor on his chest, arms, and shins, pouches of stuff everywhere
and holding some sort of rifle. He had a shoulder harness with a big ass knife
and a pair of nine mils under each armpit. Suddenly he felt very exposed just
wearing sneakers, jeans and a T-shirt.

Bobby turned to him in surprise, eyes
wide. "Shoot, you don't know the boss when you see him?"

"I do now, Thanks for pointing him
out to me," Chuck said wryly. "So he's the boss?"

"Boss's boss. High mucky muck. He's
the guy in charge of the whole shebang baby. Mall, everyone.
The
O'Neill."

"Oh?" Chuck asked, checking
his gear. He had a bunch of shopping bags, the cloth reusable ones, and a
baseball bat. He wasn't sure why they gave him the bat.

"Yeah man, he's the boss. Chief
Indian, whatever you want to call it."

"Why is he rubbing elbows with us
grunts?"

"Cause he's a grunt at heart,"
Bobby said. He pointed to the kitchen. "The guy's a shooter, and damn good
at it," he said, looking at Chuck. Chuckles was a born schemer, he could
tell, he could see it in his eyes, the way they darted around, checking all the
angles. The way he was constantly asking about the black market. He'd have to
set this one straight if life or the job didn't do it for him. "Let's go
see if they cleared the kitchen."

In the garage Shane was finished
carefully checking things over. Frank had just opened the garage door by hand,
pulling the emergency disconnect from the now dead motor and then opening it
up. A crew that had just finished cleaning out a neighboring house waved and
started forward. "They finish clearing the kitchen?" Shane asked,
turning away from the crew ripping out the hot water tank and furnace. Another
crew was wheeling the washer and dryer out to the waiting trucks. Duct men were
pulling pieces down and tossing them out the door.

"Some of it. Heard a noise
and..."

"We've got harvesters inside and no
one bothered to check?" Shane said spinning in place grabbing the door
handle. Right on cue he heard a scrabble and scream. "Shit!" he said
wrenching the door open.

"Like taking candy from a
baby," Chuck said opening the first door. Chuck had just opened the
pantry; he didn't see what the big deal was when he caught a flash of gold eyes
and white fangs. Instinctively his right arm went up as the thing lunged for
his throat.

Bobby turned just as Chuck opened the
pantry and felt himself bodily slammed to the ground as two hundred pounds of
human and a hundred or so pounds of angry Gremlin slammed into him. "Jack
in the box!" He managed to yell, trying to roll out from under the
struggling Chuck.

For Chuck it was a nightmare of purple
and yellow flesh, glowing alien cat eyes and flashing teeth and claws. Distantly
he heard screaming, some corner of his mind realized it was him. Chuck was
fighting for his life and losing as the thing bit into his arm with a mouth
full of shark like teeth. It was incredibly strong, strong as an ape someone
had said. He hadn't believed it until now. Three finger claws ripped and tore
at his arm as the thing thrashed its head from side to side making a growling
noise. He felt its three toed clawed feet digging into his stomach. He knew he
was in deep shit.

Shane swept the scene with a glance,
dropped his rifle down and reversed it. He couldn't shoot with the others
there; they were a tangled mess of flesh. Instead he used the rifle butt as a
club and swung up. "Fore!" he yelled, just as the Gremlin spat the
guy's mangled arm out to look up.

The Gremlin caught the blow right on the
chin, sending it flying. Despite the impact it managed to recover itself mid
flight to land on the chandelier. It swung from it like a monkey as Shane
stepped to one side and reversed his rifle once more.

The Gremlin snarled, human blood
dripping from its maw as it locked its four eyes with Shane. One arm dangled
like some alien chimp. Blood and bits of torn flesh dripped from the extended
claws. It reached up and picked at its teeth, flicking a piece of flesh out
towards him. Cheeky bastard.

"That's right you little bastard.
Look at me," Shane said softly, moving further to the side. Bobby looked
up, trying to crane his neck to see the thing. "You two hold on, just put
pressure on the wounds," Shane said, eyes on the target.

"I got this one boss," Frank
said from the doorway. The Gremlin looked his way and snarled, crests flaring.
A shotgun blast tore it from the chandelier, blasting the thing in a shower of
pellets and broken glass onto the table. The dining room table was also glass;
it shattered but the torn table cloth folded around the alien, wrapping it in a
pouch.

It snarled, ripping at the improvised
sack, seriously pissed but not really injured. Frank chambered another round
just as Fred and Bert moved in from the living room door and started blasting.
The Gremlin squealed as it took hit after hit. Bert was fielding a modified .44
magnum; he went through all six rounds, making each count.

When blue blood spurted out and dribbled
in a puddle the two stopped and watched warily. The fabric seemed to settle and
then go slack as its prisoner's life blood drained away. Still, they were
careful to poke it at arm’s length before spearing it a few times to be sure.
The things could regenerate given enough time and blood. Just to be sure Bert
pulled his katana and lopped its head off.

This one didn't look more than a week or
three old, despite being the size of a chimp. "Medic!" Bert said,
catching sight of Chuck on the floor. "Oh man," he said, covering his
mouth and looking away. He really really didn't want to lose his breakfast
again.

"Shit man," Bobby said,
ripping off his plaid over shirt to wrap around the torn arm. Shane moved in
warily, checking the area and then kneeling and pulling open a pouch.
"Here," he said handing a pair of tampons to Bobby.

"What the hell man? What am I
supposed to do with this?" Bobby demanded, eyes wide.

"Put them over the wounds. Use the
wings to keep them in place and apply pressure to stop the bleeding,"
Shane explained, putting words to action with the one in his hand. He hissed at
the sight of the belly wound. Not good. Definitely not good. He looked up as
Frank came up and raised his rifle to the covered window. He broke out the
window glass and then pointed it to the sky light.

"Put that thing down Frank,"
Shane said.

"But..."

"Save your ammo, you'll need
it," Shane said looking to the left. Ammo was as precious as food these
days. There were fewer and fewer amounts of either to live off of every day. It
wasn't like the trucks were rolling anymore; farms were wastelands of alien
plants and crap. He wrinkled his nose and looked to the door. Still no medic.
He keyed his mike. "We need a medic at my location ASAP. Wounded arm,
chest and abdomen, bad."

"Roger," was the only reply.

"What the hell do we do about that
then?" Frank asked looking at the light. The alien predators hated
daylight, which was why they hid in the dark during the day. It was also why
the smarter ones covered the windows and sky lights with their own crap.

There was so much crap that there had to
be more than one creature here. Where there was one Gremlin there was more than
likely a pack of Creeplings in a harem close by. Either in the walls, under a
bed or in the attic. They'd have to check. And damn it check more carefully.

"Tater!" Shane said looking up
and yelling.

The call was repeated by the door warden
then by someone outside. After a long moment the hefty guy came in holding his
home made potato gun. "Yo man, you called?" he said. He caught sight
of Chuck and grimaced. "Shit man, sorry," he said looking away.

"Get to work, knock out some
windows and shine some light," Shane said gruffly as the medics finally
arrived and pushed him aside. He got to his feet as they swung into frantic
action. He was afraid they may be too late.