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Book 3: Chapter 40: Recovery
Book 3: Chapter 40: Recovery
Book 3: Chapter 40: Recovery
Bob
January 2225
Delta Eridani
I paused to stretch, then pulled a tent flap aside and peeked outside. Wow. Good day to stay indoors. The rain, in drops almost as big as marbles in this heavy atmosphere, came in more horizontally than otherwise.
These tropical storms were surprisingly rare in this part of Eden, fortunately. I wondered how the Deltans would have handled them before my introduction of tents. Probably huddled under blankets made from skins. I remembered that storm they’d endured during the exodus from the old village. That hadn’t been as bad as this, but it had still put me onto the tent idea.
I glanced around the village. No one was in sight, not surprisingly. Behind me, I heard stirring.
“Are you going to keep that thing open forever? You’re letting the cold in.”
I grunted and released the flap. Belinda wasn’t big on cold.
I returned to my spot, lay down, and put my hands behind my head. Archimedes was awake, turning a piece of flint in his hands. I could see that it was the spear-head from Fred’s spear.
Archimedes looked in my direction. “I’ve got an idea for getting the flint teaching thing going.” He waved the spear-head like a wand. “It’s worth it if it ends the fighting.”“Sure, Archimedes. I’ve got your back, whatever you want to do.”
“Good. I’ll have to make a half-dozen or so spear-heads and knife blades, first. Belinda won’t let me work inside, so I hope this storm ends soon.”
“My bones tell me it’ll clear up around noon.” I twisted my ears in amusement, and Archimedes returned the expression.
I had earned a reputation as an accurate forecaster of weather, crediting aches in my bones for being able to feel the change. In fact, I simply looked down from orbit at the prevailing weather patterns. Sure, it was cheating. So what?
The storm blew itself out by early afternoon, so we headed out to Archimedes’ favorite flint-working spot. I was impressed by the amount of flint flakes lying discarded on the ground. Someone pushed them into a pile occasionally, when they started to become an irritant, so there was an even larger heap of flakes a few feet away. Children would often pick through the pile, looking for flakes that could be made into arrow-heads. Archimedes didn’t mind—he made more than enough product to trade for everything he and his family could want.
Archimedes endured a coughing fit as he sat down. He still hadn’t completely recovered from the kidnapping. I waited, ready to go back for water if he needed it.
Over the course of the afternoon, Archimedes roughed out a dozen blanks. I took the opportunity to go on a quick hunting trip, during which I checked surveillance for any Caerleon activity. I found nothing, which led me to hope that the incident had cooled any desire by the other village to take us on again. ?Ã?????
I dropped off a turkey-equivalent with Belinda, received a smile in return, and returned to Archimedes’ work area.
“I’ll be a few days getting these ready, Robert,” he said to me as I sat down. “Then we have to figure out how to offer them without getting killed.”
“Sooner the better, buddy. I’ll talk to Donald.”
Archimedes resumed his work, and I settled back to enjoy the sunshine.