Second Chances (37 page)

The loss of leadership caused a vacuum in the council as well after his funeral. Miles did his best to fill it, but he quickly realized he was unsuited for the role. Abe had been the middle guy, Miles had thought of him as wishy washy, but he'd been the arbitrator, the peace broker. He'd taken the best from each side of an argument and did what he could to find consensus. Not everyone had been happy over every project, but they'd agreed that Abe had found a way to get a lot done.

Miles resented the man's popularity. He envied it a bit too, feeling traces of jealousy over a dead man. He also found he had to divide his time between hunting, the base, the motor pool, and his family. He realized that Abe's vacuum hadn't just left a hole in the top, it had left a major hole in the community, and one he wasn't sure he or the others could fill easily.

\------{}------/

Over the course of the spring, Joe made water turbines out of car alternators in his spare time. It took some convincing and careful planning to rig the equipment on the banks of the river. Everyone including Miles was jumpy until each was finished and tested. They couldn't get away from the murky water fast enough.

They current of the river turned the water wheels, which in turn turned the alternators to provide power. There was some relief over that; the generators were getting low on fuel. Joe rigged up banks of batteries for power storage but also ran some of the electricity to the community grid and his own industrial projects. Balancing supply and demand was an ongoing issue.

Once he had power, he created induction furnaces out of copper wire and alternating current. The induction furnaces heated metal in small batches, levitating it. Jake and the others were impressed when they saw a demonstration.

“See, the copper coil is like a solenoid right?” Joe said. He used his hands to demonstrate a winding motion. “The magnetic fields from the AC I'm running through them create what's called eddy currents. That makes the metal hover, and if it's left in long enough it induces joule heating. It super heats the metals and stuff into a molten state,” he said. “That whining sound you hear is the metal interacting with the fields,” he explained.

“Cool,” Jake said, eying the lump of aluminum as it hovered, tumbling in the coils. Then it began to glow and form into a blob. “Dang!”

“Yeah, it's getting hot.”

“So, what do you do? Stick something in and coat it?” Miles asked. He wouldn't admit he'd been impressed too. He didn't care for the dog and pony show, but he had to admit it was worth it to see the blob of metal.

“We can,” Joe said slowly. “Right now we're dropping it out the bottom into a metal bucket, then pouring it into cast molds,” he said. “The top scales over quickly with slag, but that's fine. We can scrape it off. We're still getting the hang of it,” he said. “We need ten kilowatts to do copper and steel. Aluminum we can do with one point six kilowatts as you see here.”

“Only a small amount though?” Miles asked.

“Hey, every little bit helps, Colonel,” Joe said defensively, spreading his hands. He looked to Jake for support. The teen shrugged. He knew better than to get involved.

“Not knocking it, Joe, good work,” Miles said.

Joe nodded. “I've got other forges too. We don't need to melt something to molten to work it. It depends on what we're doing.”

“Okay.”

“This is really great for smelting too. It's how they do it really,” Joe said. “They have massive power plants though. I toured a steel mill when I was your age,” he said, nodding to Jake. The teen nodded.

“So, can you make anything useful out of it?”

“Yeah, I thought I'd said that. We're working on casting methods now. I'd like to make parts for the cars first though,” Joe said.

“Weapon parts if you can swing it Joe,” Miles said. “Weapons and hardware.”

“Well, we've got plenty of metal. I'm not sure about the weapons though. I don't want anything...you know,” Joe said uncomfortable. Miles stared at him. “Blowing up in anyone's face,” he admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“See that it doesn't,” Miles growled, then walked off with Jake in tow.

Chapter 21

Miles had a problem in early summer, the hot temperatures and blistering sun. The temperatures topped out over a hundred with enough humidity to make everyone sticky an hour after sunup. Many didn't want to go out and work. They held siestas, and there was little he could do to stop it. But the predators were most active in the mornings and evenings too, which made no one want to go out and work. That was a problem. “No, no, Senor jefe, too dangerous,” Mya said, shaking her head.

“Make up my god damn mind!” The day is too hot, the mornings and evenings are too dangerous! Pick one! Stop scratching your asses and pick one!”

Reluctantly the others got to work. They soaked handkerchiefs in water and then wrapped them around their heads and necks. They took a lot of time-outs in the shade, drinking the water or shooting the shit. They were slow, and they didn't get as much done as he'd would have liked, but at least they were getting something done. And they did have the milk herds to fall back on for food he reasoned.

He missed Nicole badly. He closed his eyes, facing the afternoon stiff wind. “God I miss you babe,” he murmured softly. “This isn't heaven, Eden, whatever. This is hell without you,” he said, then shook himself. He had to get back to work. Set the right example for the lazy spics.

\------{}------/

Miles made a point to everyone that he was a soldier, not a farmer. He insisted on taking a tithe of the crops, however, since he “laid his life on the line protecting them and the farmers.” Those farmers who did plant were put out when the teenagers and others got stupid. They dug into the vehicles and hotwired a few Joe and his volunteers had turned into improvised tanks. While most of the people were out hunting and gathering wood or having a siesta, the teens ran amok.

Carlos heard the roar of the engines and whooping and went to investigate. The farmer was incensed when Jake was caught joyriding in the field, fooling around and doing donuts.

The entire community was angry when little crops came up a week later. Miles wasn't happy; he knew his idiot son was in trouble. Sure the kid had to burn of steam but...he shook his head. And typical of the spics to single out the one white kid in the group involved. None of them pointed to Pedro or the others!

“We need those crops. So, replant or something!” Miles said. He took his frustration out on the farmers until they pointed out he'd left them to their own devices. “And you sat on your ass!” Miles snarled, throwing his hands up in disgust.

“We needed help! You have any idea how hard it is to weed? To irrigate?” Carlos shook his head. “I kept telling you and telling you but oh no, you we're too busy,” he mocked in a nasal voice. “El jefe can't be bothered with the campesinos,” he snarled. “His own pendejo nino goes and destroys the crops so we'll all go hungry...”

Mile's eyes flashed.

“You're both full of it,” Vicky told them. That brought them up short. She turned to Carlos. “You
have
been sitting on your ass, don't try to deny it. I've seen it.” She turned to Miles as Carlos opened and closed his mouth. “You've been playing tin god and so on the vehicles you forgot a balanced diet. Sure, you've got pretty tanks, Camaros and crap that are now so heavy they are gas hogs, but we don't have enough produce. Deal with it,” she growled. “And for the record, doing donuts in the
farm
fields was particularly stupid,” she said, glaring at Miles, then to Jake.

“Oops,” Jake said behind his father. Miles turned to look at his son.

“It's done now,” Miles said, mouth tightening.

“Yeah. It only cost us a month's food for five minutes of playtime,” Carlos snarled. “Tore up all that hard work. I busted my ass and back for what? If anyone else had done it they'd be gone. Out of here or worse,” he said bitterly. “Pendejo pinchazo,” he muttered.

Miles instantly moved in and grabbed Carlos by the throat. “What did you say?”

“DUNN, drop him,” Vicky said, voice going cold. He turned to look at her and froze, seeing her with her gun out.

“Lady, if you raise that you are dead,” he snarled.

“If I'm dead I'm damn well going to take your stupid racist ass with me,” she said. “Drop. Him. Now. Him we need. You and your stupid kid we don't,” she said.

“He's my
son
,” Miles growled. “What do you expect me to do?” he said, looking over his shoulder to the boy. Jake was wide-eyed and pale despite his tan. “He's a kid. Stupid I admit; he should have known better.”

“Right. You're protecting your son. Admirable. It's okay if you do it but not if others do,” Vicky said. She looked over to Jake who was looking anywhere but at them, shoulders hunched. “And yeah, he should have known better,” she said.

“Sorry,” Jake mumbled.

“Sorry doesn't cut it,” Carlos said, breaking Mile's grip on his collar. He stepped back, adjusting his shirt then rolling his shoulders. “Your stupidity...”

“Carlos, shut it,” Miles growled.

“Both of you,” Vicky growled. A crowd was beginning to form. “This isn't any one person's fault. But now we're in it, and we've got to deal with it,” she said.

“We've been picking fruit,” Sandy said.

“Yeah, it's been a veritable Eden,” Vicky said. She looked around then sighed. She slowly holstered her pistol. “And I admit, I've been stupid about it too. We've been taking only what we need or enough for a couple days, never working on preserving what we need. We're going to have to fix that. Starting now,” she said.

The others grumbled. She eyed them. “Yeah, I know, it's more work. More danger since we'll be out there,” she said, jerking her head to the outer wall. “Deal with it. We've got to now; we don't have a choice.”

Miles nodded. “Carlos, do what you can. Take Jake with you. He and his friends can help clean up the mess they made. I've always been a big believer in that. But his safety is in your hands,” he said, waving a finger at Carlos. Carlos grunted.

“The rest of you, get your gear and game faces on. We've got to go further and pick more. Fortunately, most of you are spics who've worked a farm, so I suppose you should be able to handle that part,” he said.

Vicky's lips thinned slightly as her eyes narrowed. She looked at Miles then to the group.

“Go on, get. We'll meet up here in a half hour. Move people! Vamanos!” Miles said, waving a hand.

“Think it will be enough?” Miles asked, turning to her. He hadn't forgotten her threat, but he struggled to put it behind him. He'd get even with her later, he thought.

Vicky sighed. “I don't know. Pray the weather holds for a month or two. And that we have a short winter.”

\------{}------/

Midsummer Mariah, a young shy woman, was brutally raped when she didn't want to have sex with a bored gaucho. Miles was going to let the incident go. He needed the guy; he was a great hunter and cowboy. Vicky, however, investigated the case grimly. The community muttered a lot about the entire incident. Most knew Latin passion burned bright and hot, but there were limits. The occasional fight could be overlooked, but this went beyond it.

Miles wasn't comfortable either when he saw Ciara and Sydney talk about the situation from a distance. He did his own investigating, and swore for a long time when he found out the guy couldn't even claim he'd been drunk. The girl had been sober too and quite a few people had heard her screams of NO before Mya, Ciara and Moira had intervened. Diego and others leaned on the victim to recant; they were friends and tried to say it was a momentary lapse in judgment. Ciara took Mariah by the hand and sheltered her from their unwanted attention.

Miles shrugged the incident off and went about business as usual hoping it would all blow over with just some hard feelings. But the women were furious; they muttered while doing laundry and gave cold looks to any male that came near. The women weren't the only ones angry. The idea that anyone could rape a woman and that woman could be a wife or daughter of someone didn't sit well with many of the married folks or the parents.

“Colonel, something has to be done. He cannot go unpunished,” Ciara said as she helped Sydney with the dirty dishes.

Miles grunted. The girl had stepped in as a housekeeper and babysitter for the kids while he worked in exchange for food and a place to sleep. She was a looker, with the hot dancer body, but she had that spic thing going. He shook his head coming back to the here and now. Typical, the women were circling the wagons.

“If Abe was here...”

“Honest Abe's not here,” Miles growled, interrupting her. “Vicky is a cop, she investigated, she'll bring her findings to the council,” he said. He looked away. He knew already what Vicky had found. What pissed him off was he wasn't sure how to derail the whole thing.

“Well, something's got to be done!”

“What?” he asked angrily, throwing his hands up. Sydney looked up at him, biting her lip. “Tell me? Jail him? We don't have a jail! No prisoner here, nothing like that. And I'm not going to castrate him! And hell if we're going to kill him! We
need
him! More than her! So? What do we do??”