Bootstrap Colony 2 Snippet

     Okay, when I made a social contract with the fans, I mean to keep it. So, every 10 reviews I'll post a snippet from one of the upcoming books. Sometimes it will be a chapter... and sometimes just a page or 2. They will be raw.
     I know Mighty Mike cheated and posted the To Touch the Stars snippet first. (cheater!) but I'll stick with BSC2 since it will be coming out hopefully by September. BSC2 has 2 short stories at the beginning before the main story picks up. Here is chapter 1 of the first story.

Oh, FYI here is the Facebook Group link again:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/582559128466667/

And with no further to do, here is the snippet of  BSC2... :)

A Fresh Start

Chapter 1

 

John Duster petted his partner, caressing his ears gently as he made the rounds with the dogs. He was a loner guy, living in Alaska wilderness on a nearly played out gold mine. To him it was living the dream, he had a nice cabin, a couple square miles of land to call his own, dogs to keep him company, and a bunch of industrial equipment to play with. Every guy loved playing in the dirt as a kid, Tonka trucks were a standard.

Here he was, living that dream as an adult, digging in the dirt as his own boss. Sure he paid his taxes, everyone did. And he put up with the occasional visit from Osha or some other meddlesome busybody. But he had it made, or so he thought.

Or had thought, he frowned thoughtfully. If they were right, he had a month, he thought darkly. He still wasn't sure if he'd dreamed the whole encounter up or not.

If they were right he was about to go on the journey of a life time, one to make any Sci-Fi buff green with envy. He was to be transported with one hundred other people of various ages and ethnicities by aliens. “Lucky me,” he muttered and then went back to the chores.

John was six foot nothing in his stocking feet, fair complexion despite being born on the west coast of America. He had sandy hair and wasn't much to look at other than his physique, he still kept in absolute tip top shape.

He owned just over twelve hundred acres of Alaskan wilderness. His slice of paradise was on a river, with a small mining claim and logging. He lived there year round, unlike most of his neighbors who were snowbirds. He had sled dogs, half wolves with him and a pair of hawks he rescued and nursed back to health. He hunted to supplement the stock of MRE's he had on hand.

Eleven months after his warning contact by the floating jellyfish he went into town, the third time that year. Even a self proscribed hermit needed social contact every once and a while, even if it was just to get the essential foods and fuel.

Everyone used that as an excuse of course. They all complained about the long trek in, how it took precious time from their homes. But humans were social creatures, they needed that time, even if it was momentary. Just hearing your own voice wasn't enough, nor was talking on the phone or internet. Someone to see, smell, feel. He pocketed the gold he'd carefully weighed out, grabbed his jacket, made certain the animals were okay, then was off.

He crunched through the gravel and dirt roads of town. Only main street was paved, mainly for the benefit of the tourists. The miners, drill riggers, and roughnecks in the area didn't care about pavement, nor did the mountains of snow that would turn the town into a ghost town come winter.

Parking was easy, most of the surrounding natives were on their claims and in the wild. Normally miners didn't come to town during the week unless it was an emergency anyway. He didn't even bother to lock the truck as he climbed out and headed to the assay office.

He turned in his two point four ounces of gold, enough to cover his taxes, bills, and bartab, with a little bit left over. He deposited the check, then checked his bank account before he headed off to the general store to purchase groceries and stuff he had on his list. He tossed in a couple snacks as a last minute thing, they always tripped him up at the register, then paid and left.

Once he loaded the truck up he went to the local run down bar. He was a teetotaler, he made a habit of not drinking, one close DUI was enough especially with his record, but just about everyone socialized in Malley's, making it the center of town. He ordered a coffee from Shelly the bartender and stirred creamer into it as it steamed. Shelly was good, she liked her coffee thick and strong, just the way he liked it.

He heard locals shoot the shit and joke about various Alaskan shows on TV. He turned and snorted. “Yeah, there at it again,” Shelly said, then went to answer the phone.

Gold Rush, Alaskan State Troopers, Bering sea gold, the crab show, Ice Road Truckers, the list went on and on and on. It seemed the lower forty eight just couldn't get enough of Alaska lately, and camera crews were crawling all over the place all the time. Of course not here, lightning hadn't been so fortunate, but from the sound of the local's chatter they were hopeful. After all, the film crews had to eat and spend their money, which meant money going into the local coffers. The current topic was how to entice a crew here in their tiny nowhere town.

John shook his head and turned most of it out, sipping his coffee. He nursed it, reading the paper someone had left on the bar. Then the news came on and people started talking about squid aliens. That interested John enough to look up in surprise.

He looked over his shoulder, but it was the usual crap, interviews with nut job people saying they had been abducted. He snorted, turning back to take another sip of coffee. But when two people said they were about to be abducted in a month, that got his attention again. John turned suddenly intent on listening, staring intently at the screen as a man told the viewers of his visit by squids and a warning. He was cut off though by the news anchor. They just let him do a sound bite, not the whole story, John thought. Figures, he thought darkly.

“We haven't seen you in a bit,” the bartender told him, wiping the bar with a rag. She turned to clean glasses.

John grunted, paying attention to the news. He'd normally be all eyes and ears for Shelly, she was a nice woman, but now... he had to think. If this was true... he thought furiously. He'd all but screwed himself, he thought. He should have planned, done something, not put it out of his head. The news broke to a commercial. He turned back to her. “Sorry, woolgathering,” he muttered.

She nodded in understanding. “Lot of that going around,” she said in amusement. “Strange things going on in the lower forty eight and abroad,” she said.

“Not just there,” John muttered, looking into his coffee.

“Hey John, long time no see! I'm wondering now, didn't I see lights out your way last year?” Benny asked, noticing John at the bar.

“Yeah. and yeah, I saw them aliens too,” John admitted. The bartender blinked at him. Carefully she set the glass she'd been cleaning down slowly.

Benny stared at him, mouth gaping. It wasn't like someone would admit to something like that easily, it was pure nut job stuff. Loony tunes.

“Why didn't you say so?” Benny asked finally, licking his lips.

“That's 'cause I thought it was a dream. Now I'm not sure,” he said with a shrug.

“What were they like?” the bartender asked, loud enough for others to hear. The room grew quiet as one by one people poked others and then subtly pointed or nodded their chin in his direction.

John shook his head, now uncomfortable about being put on the spot. He wished he'd blown it off, or just shrugged it off. Definitely kept his mouth shut. But it was out now, so maybe some good would come of it. Besides, they'd said others had seen it, and Benny was his witness.. “They aren't squids, jellyfish. Glowing ones that can fly. They changed colors too, and were all sizes, big to truck size,” He said, indicating the room. “They said the world's coming to an end in a few years,” he said. She blinked at him. “Said something about an asteroid. The one I talked to said they'll be back in one year to pick me and my stuff up. That's...” he frowned thoughtfully. In a month I reckon.” He paused, cocking his head. “Thirty three days from now,” he said finally.

“Um...”

“I didn't believe it then. Thought I'd dreamed it all or something. Oops.”

“Yeah, oops!” Benny said. “Can I come too?”

John shook his head. “The aliens said me and what I own.” He looked up, now thoughtful as the implications set in. “Yeah. I guess I should pack,” he said as he snorted. He downed his coffee, paid the bar tab and paid for rounds for the house and left. Everyone in the building watched him go, not one person said a word. When he walked away he saw a few rise to look at him out the window.

John lifted his chin, hell if he was going to hunch his shoulders and slink around. No, if they were right, he was in trouble, he'd find a way out. Time to take it seriously, he thought. He went back to the general store and cleaned out his account stocking up on anything he could think of. He picked up an old beat up tow trailer and towed it loaded with stuff home.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

John looked up when the dogs whined and growled. He frowned as he heard the familiar mechanical sound of an approaching vehicle. “Great, tourists,” he muttered. It had been three days since he'd been in town, probably about right for word to get around, he thought. Hopefully not a news crew, that was all he didn't need.

He frowned when he recognized Sheriff Milt's black and white police SUV. He was visited by a harassed social worker, the amused sheriff, and other authorities. John was annoyed by the distraction and intrusion, so he brushed their questions off. “What? I paid my taxes,” John said. “I don't want any trouble here folks, you can go on your way,” he said, busy restacking a pile of wood.

“Neither do we, but we've got to follow orders,” the Sheriff said. “Since you're an old hand at visits like this...” the Sheriff said, one hand on his gun belt. “You won't mind me looking around,” he said. “For my own safety,” he pointed out.

“I'm not on Probation Milt,” John said stiffly. “But go on, be my guest. Get it out of your system. My rifle and other weapons are in the usual places. One's above the door, and yeah, it's loaded. Bear, you know how it is. Got a rubber bullet in the spout.”

“Okay,” Sheriff Milt said, nodding. “If you answer their questions we'll be out of your hair faster than you know it,” he suggested.

John snorted. “Not soon enough,” he grumbled, as the fat guy, balding guy, and woman in a daisy dress stood in a row in front of the truck. “Fine, what's your pleasure?” he demanded as the Sheriff checked him over, then went on to check the property. He checked the inside of the cabin over, then went over to the dogs. They gave him a sniff down as he listened to the social worker interview John. The guy in the rumpled suit with the busy body social worker just listened, clearly bored. He rubbed his chin as John went through his story again.

“Well, I think we've heard enough,” Milt said, brushing his hands off as he got to his feet. The sheriff noted nothing he said or was doing was wrong. He poked around, then tipped his hat and waved the others to leave.

John watched them go, then went back to work. He was glad Milt was an understanding sort, some Sheriffs were prickly about a con owning a gun. Of course everyone in the outback had to have one, you didn't live in bear country without some sort of protection.

He packed, then wrote a will, leaving everything to the Tony, a teenager who was stupid enough to buy a nearly played out mine in the back of nowhere nearby. The kid was barely eighteen, but he had one hell of a lot of grit. He had to admire the kid's spunk.

He ordered stuff online and paid through the nose for overnight shipping. Anything that can't be delivered in twenty nine days he skipped. Unfortunately being in Alaska in early spring that was a problem. Fortunately the fuel trucks were still making rounds. He used a siphon to pump what fuel he had into spare barrels, cans, and every fuel tank he had, then had them deliver fuel, topping everything off. He tipped the driver to come back the night before he left if he could.

He went to a local farm and bought animals, everything he could for what gold and money he had. The guy didn't quibble, but he didn't give John his best either. John didn't care, he needed them, even if the rooster kept him up half the damn night crowing, which set the dogs to howling. He lost a few loose chickens to Hanuk and his ilk, but he understood. They were part wild, and the chickens were too stupid to avoid the dogs. He rigged up pens for them until he could figure out a better arrangement.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

Six days before D day John heard on the news that the some rich guy Mitch Chambers something or other had organized some sort of media outing to see him being taken. It had all gone off just as he'd predicted, and it had ignited one hell of a firestorm both in the media, and with the politicians. Some had said it was a stunt, even though the entire thing had been filmed live on worldwide news and even the military and FAA admitted something had happened.

Then a couple flights around California went missing. That really kicked up a storm of controversy. Some eggheads at NASA admitted there was a chance a rock the size of Texas was going to hit them. That sparked fear and unrest, which brought out the reserves to restore order.

The military was getting into the act too, they had to show the public that they were doing something positive, even though they had little they could do. And of course, vindication that the aliens were real had its own set of headaches for John. People came by to see him, see if he was telling the truth. He'd even been interviewed for the state and national news. Two days before he was due to depart a care package arrived, this one signed by that Chambers fellow's charity he'd set up for people going to be abducted. John checked it out, essential survival gear, most of what he already had. Still, waste not want not so he put it with his pile of gear.

He couldn't blame the media, it was a big thing. Not only finding out that humanity wasn't alone in the universe, but that yeah, aliens were visiting. Unfortunately that drowned out the vital message that the Earth was about to be hit by an asteroid. He tried to emphasize that in his interview, but of course they cut the doom and gloom bit out and made him sound like a nut. That just made him glad he was leaving.

On the night the aliens came his neighbors and others came out to see. It was one big send off party, a kegger. Some of the people joked, they razzed him, slapped him on the shoulder and were generally cruel about the whole thing. He remained stoic, working on his last minute preparations. He'd gotten his vehicles in order, and he'd even detached most of the buildings. He wasn't sure if they'd take them, but hell, he'd give it a shot.

But the jokes stopped when the aliens showed up, drifting downward through the clouds like jellyfish floating down from the surface of the ocean. “Well, I'll be doggone,” Tony said, hitching his hat up.

“Ayeup, I reckon it's about time,” John said. Benny nodded, shaking hands with him, then pulling him into a bear hug before gruffly letting him go. John nodded to Benny and his family. He patted Tony, the kid neighbor on the shoulder and handed him his will. “I'm leaving everything, the land and what they don't let me take to you kid. Take care of things,” John said gruffly.

Tony nodded, eyes wide. He was still staring off up at the glowing jellyfish as they began to swirl around John's pile of vehicles and stuff. The dogs howled or dived for cover. John snorted, and slapped his hands together. “Well folks, be seeing you. Nice knowing you,” he said, giving them a jaunty salute. Then there was a flash and he was speeding on to the adventure of a lifetime.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

Hanuk and his ilk howled like banshees as they moved through some sort of vortex. John screwed his eyes tightly shut after the first glimpse of whirling lights and sky. He was getting nauseous, and knew better than to look. He gritted his teeth and did his best to ride it out.