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Chapter 3 - Comin round the mountain

Roy Malloy

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I don’t know how long it had been since my alien friend popped in, but it feels like its been hours. Consciously, I know it hasn’t been. Maybe 10 minutes on the long side, but damn they had been exciting minutes. A bit more than I was used to. The adrenalin was still pumping hard through me.

I set myself next to the alien to take a breather. Took a beat to actually look at him this time. He was a weird looking thing. Humanoid, right number of arms and legs. That’s good for him. If he wakes up he shouldn’t have too much trouble adapting to door knobs. The face was a gonna be harder for him to blend in with. He had a German shepherd face with tiger stripes instead of the usual pattern. Usual for earth anyway, who knows what the rest of his people look like. The armor looks like some fever dream combo of knights plate mail and kevlar. The plates had a shiny green color to them. I could not figure out what they were made of from sight alone.

Keeping him out of site would probably be for the best so we both don’t end up in some sort of government blacksite.

He’s about as tall as me, hard to tell with him on the ground, and definitely gonna be heavier in that armor.

Getting him down the mountain, quickly, is a priority. The longer I stay the greater chance we get discovered. I think the core and the alien would be better off if that didn’t happen.

Dragging him is a bad idea. That leg wound might open up more, might loosen the tourniquet, might dislodge the bandage on the hip, might do a lot of things.

This would be easier with a ….

I can have a cart made!

“Core, do you have a blueprint for a cart with shocks?”

Affirmative

There was a dead tree leaning over a few yards away from the trail. I ran to it, core following closely behind.

Pointing to the tree I said, “eat this” I paused, planning the next move “after you are done let me know if it is enough to make the cart” I began searching the area for more dead trees, unsure of how many it would take. That tiny potion vial had taken a mountain of trash. IF the same holds true for the cart I might not be able to make it out of this forest without leaving a dent in the ecosystem.

About thirty feet beyond there was another dead tree rotting away. It was a bit larger, but a lot more decayed. In terms of density I didn’t know if that was better or worse for my little crystal. I kept looking when another notification popped up

Matter requirements met. Creating cart

“No, wait” I shouted too late.

Well I am glad the thing is fast. Near instant creation. The problem was the hand cart was off trail and now I’d have to navigate it back. No biggie, not that far. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Life got easier with a cart, we can talk to the core about thinking ahead later.

I grabbed the handles of the cart and started heading back. As I did I noticed the tree I told the core to eat had about a third left. I guess some items take more matter than others. Good to know.

I will have to experiment with that when we get home.

“Core, please finish eating the tree and the rotten tree and join me” Can’t hurt to have a little more matter in the tank.

I heard the buzzing start again behind as the core started eating the tree.

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I got back to ‘Buddy’s’ side and started trying to load him. I was right, he was heavy with that armor. I should probably think of something to call him other than Buddy. Buddy was the name of my first dog, not a German shepherd, but pretty close. It seems a bit disrespectful to name a person after a dogs name. But the only thing I can think of looking at him is Stripe and Shep, and that’s much worse.

Grunting with exertion I got him into the cart without causing any more damage. When I was done I saw the crystal hovering silently beside me. I guess it was done.

“Good meal?”

Silence. I swear I could feel it judging me.

I took the pouch off Buddy and held it up, “Alright I need you to hide” I said to the crystal. The thing just ate a tree. I didn’t want it in my pocket, and the pouch seemed to work for Buddy. Without moving the crystal disappeared, I could still feel it in the same place it had been. It turned invisible.

Alright, 2 lessons right there. 1: the crystal can turn invisible. That’s useful. I will keep that in mind.

2: I need to be more specific with my words or I’m gonna have some problems with this rock. Nothing has been ‘monkeys paw’ kinda bad yet, but lets not tempt fate.

“Remain invisible and get in the pouch I am holding… Please” A little politeness can’t hurt my chances. Don’t piss off the magic rock.

A small amount of weight fell into the pouch. Even if I couldn’t feel its location through our connection that would have been a good sign that it was in place. I put the bag around my neck and tucked it into my shirt.

Time to set out.

For being crafted in less than a second the cart was pretty nice. The handles fit my hands, the wooden wheels and metal springs gave a surprisingly smooth ride and it was light and narrow enough for the bike trail I was on. It was bespoke for the task at hand. There was a huge range of things that could be considered a ‘cart’. Horse carts, for one. That would have been useless to me and Buddy. But the core chose or designed this one. I will need to figure out which. More things to test.

Also where had the metal come from? There was metal in the pile, but I thought all of that went to the potion. Did the core transform wood into steel? It turned garbage into magic healing goo, so I guess its not beyond possibility, but somehow this seems more impressive than the magical thing making another magic thing.

What are the limits I wonder?

“Hello there!”

Shit. Not paying attention to your surroundings. Now you have people approaching.

I whispered to the core “Cover Buddy with a blanket, then cover the blanket with garbage. Same kind of stuff you picked up earlier. Not too much. And do it as quietly as you can” Looking up I shouted at the approaching couple of hikers “Hello there strangers, how are you?” I forced a smile but didn’t slow. Hopefully they didn’t want to small talk.

“What’s with the cart?” The woman asked.

I hope the core is done. It should be, it made the cart in less time, but it didn’t have to be quiet then

“I was doing some clean up on the trail up ahead. Some one or someones left a bunch of trash up there. So I went and got it.”

“That big pile at marker 2?” The man said “I have been complaining about that mess to the park service for weeks, thanks a bunch for helping out” He stepped into my path, forcing me to slow. I chanced a glance backwards. Cart full of garbage. A little too organized looking, but otherwise not too suspicions.

“Yeah, I hate it when people do that to our trails” I said politely, while screaming MOVE! internally. “Do you come here often?” I am my own worst enemy. And I know this.

“Absolutely!” The man starts to excitedly describe the area as I, trapped by social convention, smile and listen. He is so excited to find another enthusiast. I might never leave this mountain

“Dave honey, we should let the young man be on his way. He’s still got to unload that cart after all” Lady, we are the same age. Whatever. The wife/ girlfriend of the talkative Dave gave me an out I’m taking it.

“Yeah, it was nice catching up with you but I have to go. Lots of trails to check after all”

“Of course, of course” Dave said, sheepishly waving me past. He seemed disappointed as he was pulled out of my way. I started immediately. Not gonna give him a chance to step back in front.

“It was nice meeting you!” I called out over my shoulder, picking up speed

“Hey wait just a second” the woman shouted. Oh crap, am I busted?

I turned and looked at the cart, nothing visible from my angle. Can they see something at the back? Are Buddies feet sticking out?

She half jogged up to me, still smiling “Can you take these wrappers for me since you are heading down?”

“Absolutely”

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The rest of the hike down was uneventful and mercifully solo. I was at my car at the trail head. I passed the bear proof can and had a quick idea. “Hey core? Go inside here and absorb all the garbage inside the bin liner. Do that for all these cans. Then meet me at the car... ” that might not be clear enough. Does it know what a car is? “it’s the big silver thing over there. Actually just come back into the pouch when you are done” less ambiguity. Monkeys paw, gotta remember this thing is a monkeys paw.

I got to my car and started to look around. Nobody around as far as I could see. I wish I had binoculars, I probably could have a pair if I asked, but its probably not needed. Just move fast.

I pulled the blanket off trying to keep most of the cans and bottles from falling back into the cart. Buddy was still there, still breathing. I opened the back door and cleared some clutter off of the seats. Then I started struggling to heft 280ish pounds of dead weight into the vehicle while being careful not to hit anything. As I was getting him into the car I noticed for the first time that his wrist was swollen and covered in splinters.

I am a terrible doctor. I didn't even notice that before.

But Its not life threatening so I’ll be dealing with it at home.

I fold buddy’s knees so I can close the door as I feel the pouch get heavy again. Perfect, just in time.

“Alrighty core” I need to name this thing “re absorb the cart and all the garbage that goes with it. And the blanket. That too”

A quick buzzing session later and there was no evidence the cart ever existed. Not one splinter or mote of saw dust. Freaky. Its odd to have something be there one second and then ‘not’.

There must be some residual merge calming juice running through my system because I am taking this way too well for how weird it is.

As I slam the drivers side door closed and buckle in I exhale deeply. The weird is only beginning. I know this deep in my soul. Whatever shot Buddy is probably bad news. The core is a winning lottery ticket, world ending super weapon and Faustian bargain rolled into one, if used poorly. And then there’s our interplanetary man of mystery currently known as Buddy; is he good, is he bad, something else? Who knows. But now he is my problem and my responsibility.

The engine turns over. Time to go home.