Thomas watched sunlight wash over the exterior of the building as the sun rose higher into the sky on the displays in the command center. He had bribed a couple of the hunters with some mini bottles of whiskey to clean off the cameras that Delvik had covered with muck. It was much quieter today, without Delvik poking around and asking questions, and he already missed his friend''s presence, so to distract himself he decided to dive into the work he had been putting off.
System status pages were spread out across several different monitors, “damn, that''s a lot of red and yellow,” he said with a sigh. The shelter was in bad shape from disuse, no getting around that. Deciding to start with the easier fixes, Thomas began sorting out what he could do with the tools he had and what he might need something more specialized for, his eyes occasionally drifting to the camera displays.
Soon the sound of loud, heavy music was echoing throughout the shelter. If one listened closely, they could make out a cackling laughter when the music got softer. Thomas had gotten about an hour into trying to figure out how to repair the water filtration and storage systems before he threw up his hands, said screw this and decided to do things his way. He wasn''t a plumber; sure, he could and did pull up the repair manuals, but he kept hitting walls. This facility wasn’t meant to be run by one person, it needed whole teams, departments of technicians and specialists, or at least warm bodies that could be thrown at a task.
No, he decided, it was too much for one person. So, with a smile that would have terrified his friend, he began to create. He had gathered enough trash from the night before, so he wouldn''t lack for matter to feed into the MRD’s hopper. The first thing he did was build a dedicated AI Creche and set it to begin accelerated growth maintenance AI. He loaded in all the repair manuals he could find to give them a broad and deep education. While the AI were being grown, nurtured and educated, Thomas grinned wildly as he began what he considered the fun part.
He began drafting designs for different bodies that the AI could inhabit. He needed them small and mobile enough to get into places that he couldn''t, or if he was being completely honest about it, didn’t want to. Thomas looked up various animals and insects to draw inspiration from, and it was from the latter that he drew his final design. It was with a laugh that he loaded the design into the fabricator that was linked to the MRD and hit the GO button.
The machinery whirred to life, the MDR printing out the raw materials and the fabricator picking them up to begin building the design. Thomas monitored the construction of the prototype, making updates or fixes as the fabricator ran into issue, but within half an hour he held the first of his repair bots. Roughly four inches long and one inch in width and height, its exterior of overlapping plates giving it the flexibility to squeeze through cracks less than half its height, he dubbed the ApocaRoach ready for trial.
Thomas quickly loaded up the first of the AI that had been grown into the tiny robot and watched with fascination as it began performing system checks. With a musical chime, the little robot stood up to its full height, antenna waving and awaiting orders. Thomas set out several items to test its ability, from patching cracks to clearing blockages and even replacing wire. As it completed each task, Thomas imagined it saying, “yeah, yeah, what else ya got buddy?” in a burly New York accent, and he didn''t know why that amused him to no end.
With the trial run completed, he set the fabricator to start producing a batch of one hundred of the ApocaRoaches, and sent the first one to go climb around inside the water pipes to fix any cracks it found. For now he would set them to one task at a time, let the AI get some time to explore and learn while it worked, plus he didn''t want too many of them running around. Easier to fight one hundred robot cockroaches than one hundred thousand, he thought.
Settling back into the throne in the control room, Thomas continued working through the status lists, making notes about other systems that need some special care, and then he came across something that caught his attention. Under a set of sub-tasks, he found an entry regarding the other terminal sockets. After reading further into the logs, he realized that his joking about this being a battle station wasn’t far off the mark. Sometime before he was thrown forward in time, some place called Site Charlie, had created a modular command and control system to make it easier for different projects to work together by simply connecting the mobile terminals in. “Might be something to do later” he said, looking once again at the cameras displaying the interior and exterior of the mess hall.
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Deeper and deeper into the Burrow the guards escorted Delvik, as his mind raced with thoughts about how this could go terribly wrong, how he might be able to salvage the situation. Bringing danger to the Burrow and Tribe was a serious accusation, one that could result in his death. His first thought was that Anzis had made his report to the Matrons, but they hadn’t been back long enough for that, even with his detour to his room, they should have both arrived to present their reports at nearly the same time, he thought.
Frowning as he sorted his thoughts, trying to figure out what had happened, a sudden realization struck him so hard he nearly stumbled. The Watchers, it had to be them. Much like scouts, they were the eyes and ears of the tribe, both reported directly to the Matrons, but unlike scouts, the Watchers remained in and around the Burrow. One of them must have seen his encounter with Thomas the night of the storm and followed him; the thought sent a cold shiver down his spine, and he recalled Anzis’s words of warning about the Matrons.
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Something deeper was going on and he had found himself caught in the teeth of what was feeling like a trap. So as they descended deeper, past the lowest floors of the old ruin and into the hand carved tunnels, steadily getting closer to the heart of the Burrow, Delvik began putting together the bare outline of a plan that would see him get through this alive. All too quickly though, his thoughts were interrupted as they arrived at a large set of doors, carved with the history of his people. Two of the Burrow Guard stood to either side of the doors, and they both saluted the one leading Delvik, before opening the great doors.
Inside was a cavernous hall, large glass containers stuffed with glowing moss hung suspended from the ceiling, the back half hidden behind large sheets of cloth hid the living area for the Matrons. In the center of the room stood a wooden platform, five chairs sat upon it, one for each of the Matrons. The Eldest sat center, Matron Gitzel. Flanking her were the two middle aged Matrons, Mvris and Takka. On the outermost seats sat the youngest Matrons, Litra and Gamir.
All five were staring at Delvik as he was led into the room, and he nearly stumbled as he saw Anzis and his hunters sitting with their paws bound off to the side. That was not a good sign, he thought, something is very wrong. The lead guard stepped forward and bowed to the Matrons before speaking, “Honored Matrons, I have brought the accused before you as commanded”.
Matron Gitzel was the one to speak, “So you have, we thank you for the swift completion of your task. You may depart, the Watchers shall assume guard duties”.
The guards saluted and departed swiftly, the doors closing with an echoing thud. The hairs on Delviks body all tried standing on end, and he really wished that he hadn’t left the armored suit behind, even the whisker pinching mask. With a deep breath he bowed at the waist towards the seated Matrons, “Greetings Matrons, this scout brings news from the surface for your judgment” he said, repeating the standard greeting to the matrons for a returning scout.
“Far Scout Devlik, you bear more than simply news from the surface. You who court death and disaster for the tribe, who conspire with the enemy of our people, explain to us why you have betrayed us?” Matron Gitzel rasped, anger flaring in her eyes. The other Matrons stares matched hers, even as they remained silent.
“Matrons, I do not know what you have been told, so with your permission, I would speak of my journey over the past several nights” Delvik stated, putting as much firmness into his voice as he could. Showing weakness here would be fatal, if they were truly assuming him to have betrayed the Burrow and Tribe, death would be the only punishment.
The Matrons nodded for him to continue, so with a deep breath and a prayer to the shadows, Delvik told them his tale, From his arrival back at the Burrow the night of the storm and his encounter with Thomas, which did elicit gasps of shock and fear from the Matrons; and continued on with him stalking him back to another of the ruined surface Burrows and observing. He explained his reasoning when prompted, “I wanted to see this Human who did not try to kill me when I could not fight back. That he did not was so far out of our experiences, that I had to know why.” was his simple reply.
The Matrons watched on silently for the majority of the telling. They would occasionally ask for clarification or what his thoughts were at that time, and he would answer them as clearly as possibly. He had no idea of what they had been told and he did not, could not be caught in a lie. That would destroy any chance he had of convincing them that Thomas was an irreplaceable asset.
Delvik glanced over at Anzis and his hunters as he got to the point of the story where they arrived. He told the Matrons of his attack against the Arvo, of the suit of armor that he and Thomas had crafted. As he spoke, his eyes moved from Matron to Matron, trying to gauge their thoughts and reactions. The three in the center showed visible fear at the presence of an Arvo hunting pack led by an Alpha, but the younger two seemed different. The fear was still on their faces, but there was something more he couldn’t quite figure out.
As he finished the tale with the night of the barbecue and the celebrations of a great victory over a dangerous foe, he ended with “were it not for the help of the Human Thomas, with his knowledge of the old machines and his bravery of coming into the fight to save my life from the Alpha, the Tribe would be in great danger from the Arvo.”
“I also brought back some gifts from Thomas to the Tribe, in hopes of friendship”, he said, setting the backpack down in front of him.
The Matrons watched as he pulled out the items he had brought with him, and listened as he explained each one. Delvik watched nervously as they spoke in hushed whispers amongst themselves, before settling back into their chairs. “We have heard your story, Far Scout Delvik, a wondrous tale that borders on the insane. A peaceful Human, who only wants to be friends with the Tribe and give us gifts of magical medicine and plentiful food” Matron Gitzel said mockingly. “A foolish child with dreams of nonsense. That creature is using you, luring you in, in your foolish optimism and misguided belief that they can be anything other than vicious killers, to find and destroy our people.”
Delvik felt his heart stop, this was all wrong. He looked pleadingly to the other Matrons, hoping that any, even just one would refute her words. Litra and Gamir seemed as if they wanted to speak, but held their tongues, and Delvik sagged, dropping to his knees on the floor.
“I beg you, Matrons. This one is different, he knew nothing of our people before coming here. He is lost and alone, and if we extend a paw in friendship, then we will have an opportunity that our ancestors would never have dreamed of.” he cried out to them, desperation straining his voice. “Please give this a chance,”
A figure stepped from the shadows on the side of the room, “Begging is pathetic Delvik, Humans cannot be trusted, that is a known fact. As is that they are merciless killers, that this one spared you must mean it is truly a cunning beast.” it said.
“Your interruption was unnecessary, Watcher Telnir, even if you speak the truth.” Matron Gitzel said, before turning her eyes to Delvik, “You have brought shame, to yourself and our people. You put your personal feelings above the good of the Tribe in failing to slay the Human beast when you had the chance, and compounded that mistake by falling for its lies.”
She nodded to unseen figures behind Delvik, and continued speaking is a sever tone, “The Watchers will take custody of you for further questioning, at the end of which you will be given the chance to reclaim your honor, by luring that creature out of its lair for the Watcher to capture for study.”
Delvik felt only shocked numbness as he was dragged out of the Matrons chamber.