High Noon on Jefferson: Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

The solution to the distance problem required going back into town. That required going back to the cottage. That required the awkward reunion with Veena and Rosa. That was almost assuredly something any American teenager would like to avoid.

The "awesome" part was the solution to the problem could not be used effectively this weekend. We had a night over here at Dad's farm until we needed to go back. We could have zipped out to the locale and back. However, that would have left us with at most half a day to figure out what's going on. And, while our previous adventure was pretty short, really, the situation with whatever was producing the repticulates, robats and whatever else could last far, far longer.

Also, if we went out and returned, my...solution to getting us 100 km from here and back was likely to get us into trouble upon return. So, it was a one off. And, yeah, it was...of questionable legality.

Don't look at me like that!

Sheesh.

Solutions to problems produce new problems requiring new solutions that produce their own problems and round and round it goes, an ouroboric cycle. Unless we were going to give up, we needed a way out to that destination 100 km away. The solution was going to produce a problem that we would need to solve and that solution would produce a problem, etc.

And, as far as I could tell, at three Pranksters were all in.

That meant we were going to have to do what I had in mind on friday, after school, possibly after we were supposed to be asleep. Definitely not today. That left the smaller, more immediate problem of Rosa and Veena and the awkward return to the cottage. My cottage. oy.

So, like so many young adults, we did the thing that avoided the awkwardness: we stayed out. Instead of returning, we decided were going to go robat and repticulate hunting. Not for more information, but rather for a search and destroy mission. These things were killing local Jefflife to digest and produce power. That was simply unacceptable.

And hunt we did.

Not that we found many of them. They all seemed to be moving away from the location we were at. And all of them were on a vector, direction, towards the destination we had uncovered. They were being recalled from the area.
Someone had been a lazy programmer though: they ought to have scattered away from Shadwell and my Dad's farm in random directions. The direct recall for all of the biomimetic robots would have given away where the location if we had not already known where they were headed. Perhaps that was it. Whomever, whatever, was directing the repticulates and robats knew their position was compromised and was more interested in the speed of extraction than deception. Then again, they really could have been just a lazy programmer. Many a plot had been compromised by someone taking a short cut in planning or execution. It was, after all, really, really easy to do.

It was getting late and dinner was going to be soon. We had bagged ten robats and repticulates. Not many, not for the time spent, a whole afternoon. However, we couldn't avoid the reunion with Veena and Rosa any longer. And we needed to eat. We were hungry. We turned back and headed back to my Dad's home.

It was not a short walk. We had wandered a good eight kilometers from Dad's property line and we had the robats and repticulates in tow. Over rough terrain, that takes a long time. When we were about a kilometer from Dad's, Tom reminded us we had some mildly illegal tech on our hands and needed to dispose of it. We dug a hole and made a cairn. We knew it wasn't a long term solution, but it would have prevented us from being caught by the sheriff if she decided to have a chat with her favorite suspects for pranks for something that happened in town.

Be careful. Be meticulous. Don't be lazy.

We finally made it back to the cottage...and it was empty. Or rather, Rosa and Veena were not there. And their things were gone. I guess we had our answer as to whether or not they were going to join us on our little quest. That saddened me. It felt like the Merry Pranksters were breaking up. Change comes to everything. Even friendships, but I'd thought the Pranksters would be immune. At least until college.

It appeared I was wrong.

There was a note. We looked at it for a moment and then Jackie picked it up. It wasn't from Veena and Rosa. It was from Khiara. She invited us into the main house for dinner. Perhaps Veena and Rosa were in the main house. It was a vain hope, but when that was all you had, that's what you grab onto. Unless you were a cynic, a realist or a pessimist. I wasn't yet there. Perhaps. One day. But not that day. And I hoped not ever.

We showered and cleaned up. We smelled of dirt and Jefflife and looked like someone had dragged us through the woods or something. Huh. I wonder why?

Then we went to dinner in the main house. We were quiet and somber. I had some apprehension. Would our friends be there? Would they not? I don't know whether Tom and Jackie felt that way. I was a little too wrapped up in my own thoughts and feelings right then.

Veena and Rosa were not there.

That made me bluer. Dinner was fine. A bit awkward since Dad and Khiara were up to their own mischief and were not super comfortable about us knowing: after all, how many teenagers can keep their traps shut? Then again, very few teenagers were Merry Pranksters. And that number might have shrunk by two. Plus I was not completely comfortable with Khiara just yet. We were on our way, but not quite there yet.

Apparently, though, Veena and Rosa had dropped in to tell Dad and Khiara they were headed back to town early. Dad asked if everything was okay between everyone. We said it was, perhaps unconvincingly. Dad looked apprehensive. Oh, yeah, that teenage keeping their trap shut thing. I wasn't worried, but I understood why Dad was.

We left the main house and wandered back to cottage. It was quiet. Both Jackie and Tom snuggled up on either side and we quietly watched an old time movie. We mourned. Perhaps prematurely. Perhaps not. Our pentagon might have become a triangle.

And it hurt.

A lot.

But we didn't want to express it outloud.

Or tink it.

We didn't need to.

We were...what was left of the Merry Pranksters.