“Okay, Marvin, it’s time to go after the abductees. Guppy, give us a rundown on locations and status.”
Guppy popped up a relief map of the area with locations of Deltan victims and a tooltip beside each. It didn’t look good. Over half of them were already being eaten.
We each took two busters and went after the gorilloid groups. We’d smack the gorilloids in the back of the head until they either gave up and ran away, or the victim got loose during the distraction. In the end, we saved maybe a third of the abductees.
I flew a drone over to Arnold. “There are people who are injured and can’t make their way back to the tribe. You’ll need to organize retrieval parties.”
Arnold gazed at the drone for a few moments, then started pointing to individual Deltans and giving orders. I had to hand it to the Deltans, they were a decisive race. When action was required, there was no backtalk. In moments, they had organized rescue parties, who jogged off, following the drones.
I expected all but one of the surviving abductees to pull through, although some of them would have permanent disabilities.
I sighed and looked at Guppy. “How many TO-DOs do I have concerning teaching the Deltans some basic medical procedures?”
[twenty-six]
“That’s what I thought.” I was scared to ask how many total TO-DOs I had stacked up. Not for the first time, I considered building a couple dozen Bobs and attacking the list until it was under control. And as usual, I couldn’t think of any items on the autofactory list that I could bump to make room.
I’m sick of this. “Guppy, I want the buster count up to fifty, then I want you to pull one printer group and set it to building more printers. It’s time to bootstrap.”
[Printer group duplication is time and resource intensive and will impact operations over and above the immediate loss of manufacturing output]
“I know. Short term pain, long term gain. If we’d done this in the first place, we’d be breaking even now. It’s time to get ahead of things.”
I turned to Marvin. “I’m seriously considering constructing explosive armaments.”
His eyes went wide. “Wow. That’s a helluva concession. We hate explosives.”
“I know. Plus there’s a risk of blowing up the printer with each unit built. I’m thinking of building them the old-fashioned way. I’ll build a chemistry lab, assign some roamers to it, and use industrial methods to build warheads.”
“You’re talking about significant lead time.” Marvin shook his head, doubt written all over his face.
“Yeah, but I have a bad feeling that we’re going to be facing gorilloids for a long time. Run the numbers and calculate what the average population density has to be in order for them to be able to gather that many gorilloids together in so short a time. I think this side of the pass is gorilloid central.”
Marvin stared into space for a millisecond or so, then nodded. “I see what you mean. This is going to be a war of extermination.”
***
“After coming all this way, you want us to stop here?” The elder’s ears were sticking straight down in the Deltan equivalent of an incredulous stare. I looked around the tribal circle and saw the same expression on most of the faces.
I sighed. The drone was not a great way to have a conversation. It might be impressive to a primitive people, but the lack of body language was really hampering me.
I tried again. “It’s only temporary. I destroyed most of my busters”—the translation program rendered that as flying rocks—“in that attack. I need to build more. At least here, we’ve thinned out the gorilloids, and put a scare into the surviving ones.”
Arnold, who was now a member of the circle, nodded in agreement.
“It is true. The beasts will not attack again soon. They lost three for every person they took, and we got most of those back.”
Sadly, although the gorilloids hadn’t done well in terms of stealing a meal, they had managed to kill almost twenty Deltans during the attack. That was an unsupportable level of attrition. A few more attacks, and we’d be back down below the numbers at the start of the migration.
“How long?” The elder wasn’t conceding, he was asking for clarification. I wasn’t anywhere near done here, yet.
“Five days. I have more busters on their way, and I want another set on hand before taking on more risk. After that, I’ll be bringing in more as fast as I can make them.”
Arnold stepped in again. “This is not going to be over in a hand or two of days. For this many gorilloids to have shown up so fast, there must be many of them.”
I spared a moment to be impressed by this observation. I looked at Marvin, whose eyebrows were climbing his forehead. “I guess that’s a reminder,” I said to him, “that big doesn’t mean stupid. This guy is sharp!”
I returned my attention to the drone. “Correct. I’m running my flying rocks through the forests, counting up the gorilloids. Then we’ll have a better idea of what we’re up against. And maybe we can avoid the biggest concentrations.”
“Can you not just kill them before we get to them?”
It was a reasonable question. “I would be using up my busters killing gorilloids that might never bother us. Better to concentrate our energies on those who show up. I will, however, give more warning in the future.”
The elders nodded. They understood scarcity of resources.
Orders were given, and people started to set up a more long-term camp. Arnold organized hunting parties. And I went looking for Archimedes to talk about tent poles.
***
“It seems like a lot of work for not much benefit.” Archimedes examined his first attempt at a tent. Really, it was barely a lean-to.
“Your blanket isn’t big enough to supply much coverage. With a larger blanket, you could make it tall enough to walk in and out, and you’d have sides to keep the rain and wind out.”
Archimedes walked around it. “Hard to pack and carry. Hard to set up. It seems like something that would be more useful in a permanent camp.”
Marvin laughed at the look on my face. “Take that, oh great sky god!”
“Shaddap.”
I set aside the tent project and changed the subject to straightening spears. This was something that both Archimedes and Arnold were both enthusiastic about. They’d seen the difference that simply picking straighter spear shafts could make. The idea of taking almost any shaft and straightening it was a revelation to them.
We talked for a while about how to steam the crooked piece of wood and how to build bending jigs. Arnold and Archimedes left to look for construction materials, the axe hanging casually across Arnold’s shoulder.
I rotated the drone to look over the camp. So many things to do. I might have forever, but these people, not so much.
Bill – January 2174 – Epsilon Eridani
[Message received from Milo]