III: Living in the Wilds

-

By now, it had been more than a week since we landed.

We, as individuals and as a group, were all pretty trippy, and feeling grouchy, as we tried to make ourselves at home in our new "home" by the edge of the forest...

Kyrin and I had created a crude shelter by some palm trees, using scavenged pieces and panels of the now-broken craft we landed in, and some palm branches, for shade, but it also served as a roof to save us Androids from the frequent rainstorms. (Well, to be honest, Kyrin did the majority of the building...I sat inside did the interior work, rewiring and setting up the one surviving generator we had, as well as get a little fire going at the center of our little camp ring. I also set up the oil cans and stuff we Androids frequently used, and would need, to keep ourselves working amidst the grit of the sand and the mud of the forest floor.)

Following Kyrin's idea, Brand and Ordron set up a small lean-to by a nearby tree, with Kyrin's help as they moved a nice, large panel of the ship (which by a miracle was rather intact) and set it against two trees. They also brought over a few of the boxes, and had set up a pretty comfortable shelter for themselves.

Alfred, who continued to complain, finally got off his lazy butt and made himself a decent shelter, which looked a lot like a WWII foxhole...but it was pretty neat regardless. He had picked up several large leafy branches from the surrounding area and made himself a decent cover, and pretty much just sat there once he finished.

Not a group player, I noted to myself. I'm just glad I didn't have to deal too frequently with him.

As for Diane and Sheri, they had found a nice trio of trees, and using a small canvas, they made themselves a decent tent, with a few extra "drapes" for privacy, as well as extra cover from the rain that continued to plague us.

Inside our shelter, I was still having problems with my shorted leg, and although I managed to get the main joint fixed, at my hip, it was pretty much the same as it was a week ago, dead as a rod of carbonized steel.

The price for weakness, I chastised myself. Should've spent more time practicing in the forest, rather than at the ranges up in Pioneer 2...a bit too late for that, I reminded myself.

With time, and a few scraps from a broken crate, I had eventually jury-rigged the leg to hold stiff, and using a sort of, well"cane" I managed to do a little bit of walking. At least I wouldn't be useless anymore...

"...haha, who am I trying to fool..." I muttered, softly enough so that no one else could hear. I grabbed the little commo unit I had been carrying when I hit the water, and I took it apart again. Maybe one of these days, I'll get it working again, I told myself, as I glanced around at the others.

Brand had scouted the area around our landing site earlier this morning, and thankfully, since the Hildebears retreated, there were few things left to cause more problems. He seemed neutral, as usual, but I bet something was grating on his mind...I watched as he moved over to where Diane was sitting, brooding to herself.

"You alright, Diane" he said to her, concern in his voice.

"Yeah..." she replied, as her mind drifted.

"Hey, don't hold it in...if you need to say something, tell us okay" Brand sat beside her.

"...I'm scared..." she whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear with my sensors.

Diane seemed to be coming more and more withdrawn, and she, although usually talkative, was rarely talking at all now. I wondered if she was remembering something from her past...maybe she'd been stranded before, as well...it was possible. Brand put a friendly arm around her shoulder, and she took his hand, though her face didn't change much. Oh well, I figured, best leave them be. None of my business. I continued to scan about.

I guess you could call it naivete, but for once, Kyrin seemed to be in a rather good mood, considering she normally didn't do anything outside her ordered programming...she was now constantly going about, fixing our shelters, adding wood bits to the fire, realigning the light beams on her Blizzard Gungnir...it was almost fascinating watching her, as she seemed to hop from one thing to another. She was probably the most cheery of us, as she completed task after task. (I guess you could say she was learning the meaning of the word"bored.")

Ordron was for the most part, silent. He preferred not to talk to anyone, and to live his miserable existence right where he was. Oh well, I figured...whatever suits him...I just watched as he sat in the middle of the lean-to they made, reading some sort of book. At least he's not disturbing anyone.

Sheri and Alfred, our two technicians, finally settled a bit. For the past few days, they couldn't stay out of each others' faces...at least today, they weren't fighting. I felt a pang of relief at that. I worried a bit for them...they seemed to be at odds, purposely avoiding each other as much as possible. I hoped they'd get along in the days to come...living with someone for a day could be an experience...but living with someone for what could be a lifetime...yeesh. I shuddered at the thought. I hope whoever I'd have to live with didn't feel that way about me...

I turned back to my disassembled commo. What a mess, I told myself, as I tried re-cleaning each of the 24 components that comprised this rather simplistic device. "I hope things get better" I said, to no one in particular, as I continued to work.

-

Sometime later, after I had finished reassembling the still-broken commo unit, I began to check my Photon ammunition, seeing what I had left. I opened up the squarish can I normally threw my extra rounds in, and grabbed out my three magazines. I dumped all of the little Photon orbs out into a little tray I made by bending a plate from the broken ship, and began counting.

One, two, three, four, five...

Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five...

About five minutes later...

One-hundred ninety, one-hundred ninety-five...

It took me about ten minutes to count them all: 267 rounds of regular, with another 89 heavy shots (slightly heavier Photon rounds which could be charged via the rifle's extra "boost" function).

"How are you doing for ammo" Diane asked suddenly, taking a seat in the sand by me.

I showed her the numbers I just wrote down with my small pencil. She nodded, and smiled. "That's not bad." She then took out a small round tin, holding some of her ammo, and placed it in my hands. "Take these too. I had a few extra tins...you need this one more than I do." She smiled, before drawing out her VISK. "Mind if I sit here with you for a bit"

"Not at all" I replied, before putting the ammo, including the new tin I received, back into the small compartment in my right leg. I drew out my JUSTY, as well, and both of us began to disassemble the rifles, cleaning them of the sand and dust that was ever-abundant along this part of the island.

"So what do you think" Diane asked, after disassembling the main components of her VISK. "You think we'll make it out of here" She slowly began to rub down the top part of its casing, trying to restore some luster to its dull blue polish.

"Hard to say..." I responded, after a second or so. "I mean, we probably won't see another transporter, like Ordron thought earlier, but if we can get that commo unit working..."

"I hope so..." she said softly. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life here..."

"I don't think any of us do" I reassured her. "Just gotta take it day by day..."

"Yeah..." She smiled, as we both continued to clean our rifles.

"OH MY GOD! ALFRED! GET THE HELL OUT" Sheri began screaming as we turned to the sound of the scream, in time to see a laughing Alfred running from the tent, followed closely by Sheri, wrapped in only a loose sheet. "You peeping tom" she continued, throwing a nice-sized rock at him as he fled down the beach.

"Oh boy..." Diane sighed, shaking her head. "Will that man ever learn"

I simply shook my head as we watched Alfred run for his life. Sheri finally stopped a distance from the tent, and, shaking the sand from her garment and stiffly regaining her composure, she stormed angrily back to her tent, stopping as she reached the two of us.

"When he comes back, Diane, can you shoot that shameless bastard for me" she said, rather icily, as she continued to stare at the figure of Alfred, glaring for a while, before adding an "Ugh" and returning to her tent to finish dressing up.

Diane waited until she left to continue their conversation.

"You know..." Diane added softly, so I could just barely hear"she doesn't exactly hate him as much as she says."

"Hmm" I asked.

"I mean" she continued"that she acts that way so he doesn't get any ideas, but..."

"She doesn't really hate him then" I asked, unsure of her implication.

"I guess." She looked at the girls' tent, and then back at me. "She doesn't even really hate it when he peeps...but god, he does it way too often..." I think she stopped there, realizing she was saying too much. "I'm sorry..." she started, but I stopped her.

"It's alright." I smiled at her, as she began to turn a bit red. "I didn't understand...it helps me to, you know." I smiled my awkward smile as I nodded and started swabbing the barrel.

"At least she has an admirer..." she suddenly said, and then almost out of reflex, added"I didn't mean it like that...umm..." as her face flushed red.

We both had a nice laugh at that, and resumed our cleaning. I thought about her words for a long time, far after we had finished, and Diane had left to bathe.

-

"At least he has an admirer..."

It reminded me of my thoughts, some days ago...back on the Pioneer, when I thought about what it'd be like to be "loved..."

"Beep-beep." My Mag hovered over to my shoulder, and started tapping me.

"I know, you're hungry..." I reached over and pulled a small box of Dimate pills from the crate I threw my extra stuff in. "Here you go...sorry I can't feed you more." I slowly placed a pill on its little mechanical mouth, and watched it crunch the pill, taking in the zinc vitamins and such, which it would later chemically reform into bits and pieces of solid zinc, to use for its plating. I fed it another, and gently rubbed its shell as I put the box back into the storage crate.

"Beeep..." It tapped me again, spinning happily...and I just patted it, smiling. I think it understood I didn't have much food for it...or at least I hoped it did. It tapped me again, and hovered back to its little slot by the charger, which it rested on, almost like a little critter...I sighed as I watched it shut down for a bit. "I guess I love my Mag too..." I reflected, before I turned back out to the empty night, trying to remember where I was in conversation...and finding I couldn't remember...

"Oh well" I told myself"emotions sure are strange things..." Quickly dismissing it as some sort of random thought, I plugged myself into the charger.

Time to rest.