The Falling Star Recovery: Action adventure with a Miami beat by Chris Poindexter

Author:Chris Poindexter [Poindexter, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Published: 2016-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

The trip back was better and faster but it was late and we needed the guys to send up a flare to find the camp in the dark. As we got closer Bob’s green lasers danced across the salt flats giving us a path to follow. I was always amazed how quickly Bob became nearly indispensable in many situations.

We made our road weary way into camp and immediately headed for the showers. Amber nibbled at her dinner, which was actual fresh food brought in on the Sikorsky, brooding nearby on the outskirts of camp like a great bird.

After dinner Q disappeared briefly and came wandering back to camp with a llama in a halter on a leash.

“You walking tomorrow’s dinner or is that your date for tonight?” I asked.

Q frowned at the dig. “Charlotte wanted me to bring her a souvenir,” he explained.

“A sweatshirt or a shot glass doesn’t cut it, huh?”

“I’m keeping it,” Q insisted.

“You know that thing is probably carrying parasites and who knows what kind of diseases.”

“The gauchos said it was in good health,” Q countered. “The guys are using a couple of the perimeter panels to make a pen out of the Bobcat bay.”

I shook my head. “You’re responsible for that thing and you’re paying the fine if we get caught bringing it into the country illegally.”

“Fine,” he said, heading off to the makeshift pen.

“Just a minute,” Amber said, dashing off. A few minutes later she came back with the small goat she was petting when we arrived.

“If Q can have a llama, I can have a goat,” she insisted.

“Baaaa!” the goat agreed.

I made a dismissive gesture and she went after Q to make sure there was enough room in the shelter for two. A couple minutes later one of the gauchos wandered in with a bale of hay. I pointed toward the far end of the utility trailer.

“All we need are some monkeys and we’d have a circus,” I said as much to myself as anyone.

If that wasn’t weird enough the next morning, when we were getting ready to start our first survey over Argentina, Amber pointed over to the impromptu animal pen. There was ROBOMO trying to establish communication with the new arrivals. Bob was using his bot to make goat and llama sounds, but the animals were not buying the mechanical device, which didn’t look, smell or sound real to them. Their indifference changed when ROBOMO started pulling pieces of carrot and apple out of a small bucket. Now they were communicating.

“It’s cute,” Amber insisted. “He’s trying to talk to them.”

“Wonder what he’s trying to say?” I wondered absently.

“Be interesting to find out,” Amber agreed.

I used my uFag watch to tell Bob to either button up ROBOMO or leave him here. Immediately his digital minion dumped his food bucket and wheeled back toward the plane. He purred past us and up the ramp still making little oinky llama noises.

With a day to work on it our makeshift runway was in much better shape but we had kind of a stiff crosswind from the southeast.

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