Chapter 8: Now Hiring

I swilled my third cup of coffee, cradling my head in my hands and groaning as Vi sat nearby with a smirk. My head was pounding, I felt like there was a chisel lodged in my brain, and my usual hangover remedies weren’t scratching it.

“We’re never doing that again,” I complained, and Vi huffed at me with amusement. I had slept for hours, the venom was not without its side effects apparently. The bite wounds had closed quickly and were now merely small, red punctures, but the bruises were sore. As much as I complained, the barely-remembered haze of mind-blowing pleasure had been the best I had felt in weeks, maybe ever. Shame the recovery wasn’t exactly a picnic.

I downed the gritty, bitter liquid and lay back in the kitchen chair, shielding my eyes against the sunlight that spilled between the curtains. It was morning already, Kadavy would surely be wondering where I was, and when we would be going to see the Mutons again. I still had to call the resistance contact in Topeka and the handyman too, damn it Vi, spoiling all my plans.

I waved in the direction of the landline phone, and she seemed to understand what I wanted, reaching over and passing it to me. I fumbled in my jacket pocket for the number I had taken down, and punched it in. It rang for a while, and I was a little worried that the line would be down and I would have to climb the grain silo again. After a couple of minutes a young man answered, and before long we had arranged transport and payment for all of the grain we could farm, and any other produce we could provide. It sounded like they were increasingly desperate. They had wanted to pay us in dollars, as the country was trying to return to the old currency, but I negotiated payment in useful supplies first. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them, but in the chaos following ADVENT’s retreat it was a safer bet to trade for goods, at least for the time being. Perhaps in time we could transition back to the old paper bills, but right now I couldn’t guarantee that I could spend them anywhere.

I would have to drive out to pick up Kadavy on the way to see the Mutons, I could tell him the good news on the ride over. I finished off the coffee and stood, trying to compose myself.

“Come on Vi, we have work to do.”

“So they’ll send their own haulers?” Kadavy asked, bouncing in the passenger seat of the truck as we made our way down the dirt road towards the Daugherty farm. Thankfully he did not inquire as to my absence the previous day, nor why I was now sporting a scarf that was hardly suitable for this kind of weather. “The aliens used to send huge flying transport ships to cart the grain away, they could barely fit under the chutes.”

“I assume they’ll bring trailers,” I replied, “they didn’t really say.”

“Well, you did a good job kid, I figure I owe you another pig or two. If they hold their end of the bargain I don’t think food is gonna be a problem for a good while.”

“Well, now the real work begins, I have to learn how to operate a farm or I won’t have anything to sell. I’ll also have to convince these Mutons to come work for me, assuming they can even be taught and they aren’t mindless beasts as Vi claims so vehemently.” I hefted Vi’s unwieldy tablet in my hand, keeping my eyes on the dusty road. “Hopefully using this, we can communicate with them.”

“What is it?”

“A translator, Vi can’t speak English, she understands it well enough but her vocal cords just can’t reproduce the sounds. She uses this to speak when she has something she needs to say. I’m hoping I can also convert English to Muton.”

We arrived at the Daugherty property and pulled up beside the house, I turned off the engine and the three of us dismounted. This time only Vi was armed, she insisted on it. I instructed my companions to stay near the house as I walked out into the courtyard. The large Muton and two of his companions were already leaving the barn, walking over to meet me. They must have learned to recognize the sound of the engine. This time my hands were empty besides for the tablet computer, and the aliens came to a stop a few feet away from me, watching me with their beady eyes. The big one definitely seemed to be the leader of their small band, he watched me with his heavy brow, his beady yellow eyes peering out from beneath. He seemed to have the most elaborate tattoos as well, that must have some cultural significance. Were they medals perhaps? A status symbol?

I raised the tablet, and started to navigate the menus as Vi had demonstrated to me, hoping to high heaven that I didn’t accidentally insult their mothers by pressing the wrong symbol. I managed to get into the English to ‘whatever language these aliens spoke’ user interface, and was relieved to see an English keyboard pop up to await my entry.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered, and began to enter a line of text. I knew from experience that the device worked best when it was fed simple words and phrases, and so I typed out ‘Hello’, and the device emitted an odd grunting bark. The aliens seemed taken aback for a moment, then the largest alien pounded his chest and returned a comparable burst of harsh, guttural speech. The translator also had a microphone and could interpret sound, though Vi had no use for the function as her English was very good. I waited for a moment as the computer did its work.

[WE GREET]

Excellent, it was working! I typed in another sentence, and the stilted exchange began to turn into a slow conversation.

‘We are friends.’

[WE DO NOT HARM]

‘We offer help.’

[HOW HELP?]

‘Food, shelter, work.’

[MORE OF CARCASS?] By that I assumed he meant the pig I had presented to them.

‘More, and others like it.’

The aliens seemed to talk among themselves for a moment, and the translator had trouble picking out individual words. They appeared to come to a decision and the larger of the three began to speak again.

[WHAT WORK? NEGOTIATE] I wasn’t sure that they would know what farming was, or what it entailed, and so I tried to explain it as simply as I could manage. These were soldiers after all, they might have been enslaved by the Elders for their entire lives and never been exposed to whatever culture they originally belonged to.

‘Make food, sell food, share profit.’ I suspected that the reason they had raided our barns was because they were running out of food, and they had no knowledge of this planet or its people, they couldn’t grow crops or raise animals that they couldn’t even identify. Hell, most humans would have trouble homesteading even if you gave them a coop full of chickens and a bag of seeds then told them where to start. I couldn’t imagine how confused and hopeless these Mutons might be feeling, stranded on an alien world and cut off from their support network. They couldn’t go to anyone for help either, I had seen the violence and the reprisals in the population centers. Most people wouldn’t be aware that many of the aliens species of ADVENT had been enslaved or coerced, much as the Elders had tried to do to us, and would potentially attack aliens on sight.

[WE LOOK, WE CONSIDER]

Sounded like they wanted to see the farm, was that wise? I looked back towards the house where my companions were watching from cover, they probably couldn’t hear the conversation from all the way over there. Oh well, they already knew where our farms were and they hadn’t been back to raid them since, it should be ok.

‘Good. We return with vehicles.’

The largest Muton thumped his chest, and the ones flanking him followed suit. I mimicked the gesture and they seemed satisfied, turning back towards the barn. I backed off, and returned to the house, where Kadavy waited with baited breath.

“Well? What did they say? Did it work?”

“Yeah, I think they understood. I told them we’ll take them to see the farm.”

“How are we going to transport them?”

“Well I’ve got my truck, you’ve got your old Ford pickup, let’s go back to your place and fetch it. They can sit in the flatbeds and we can drive them up to my farm.”

“Will they fit?” Kadavy asked, peeking around the wall of the farmhouse trying to get a look at the aliens as they entered the door of their barn. “They look pretty darned big.”

“There can’t be more than six of them, three per vehicle, it’ll work. I’ll drop Vi off at the house before we come back.”

Kadavy scratched his bearded chin, looking conflicted.

“I dunno, I feel like you’re being awful trustin’ of those things, are you absolutely sure about this?”

Yes, I’m sure,” I replied, nodding vehemently. “They don’t have any other options, they’re trusting us as much as we’re trusting them. This is how it has to start, a leap of faith.”

“If you say so,” Kadavy grumbled, “you’ve been right so far, I don’t see any reason to start doubting you now.”

We returned with the trucks, and the Mutons walked out to meet us. There were five of them in all, one less than I had estimated. I used the translator to encourage them to mount the flatbeds, the rear suspension on Kadavy’s old Ford sinking under the weight of three of the aliens. I took the apparent leader, the largest of the group, and one of the smaller ones. I felt a little vulnerable without Vi, but she hadn’t protested when I had asked her to wait at home, apparently I had made enough progress to convince her that the aliens weren’t an immediate danger.

We set off back towards my farm, the Mutons gripping the sides of the flatbeds with their massive hands for stability, bouncing as we drove along the uneven dirt tracks. Damn the things were heavy, I had to be careful turning, they were decreasing the traction on the front wheels. The ride seemed longer with nobody to talk to, and eventually we passed the unkempt cornfields and turned onto my property. I expected Vi to be waiting for us, but she was nowhere to be seen as we pulled up to the house, and the Mutons dismounted. Kadavy hopped out of his truck and made his way over to me, his three Muton passengers in tow.

Vi’s absence was starting to grate at me, they were going to be living on the farm with us, she would have to deal with them eventually. She couldn’t just avoid them for the rest of their stay here. Regardless, I turned on her tablet and took the Mutons on a crude tour of the property, showing them to the barn where they would be living. I wasn’t sure that living in a barn was ideal for them, or that they particularly enjoyed it, but they seemed satisfied enough and did not voice any complaints.

“I might as well skip a step and just teach the lot of you at the same time,” Kadavy mused, scratching his salt and pepper beard, watching the Mutons examine their new abode. “They look strong, they’ll make good farmhands if we can keep them under control and they can take instruction. Most farm work these days is done with machines, they aren’t exactly going to be pulling plows or tilling fields. The timing is right, as the winter growing season is starting soon, they can learn as they work. Show me what you have in your barn,” he added. We joined the Mutons and Kadavy explored the expansive structure, finding a tractor and various other machines that I didn’t recognize hiding under tarps.

He tugged one down with some difficulty, exposing a massive yellow vehicle with four wheels and a blocky chassis, on the front was a wide cab and a huge arrangement of cutting blades like some kind of deadly paint roller.

“Combine harvester,” he announced, slapping one of the massive treaded tires with his leathery hand. “Looks to be in good condition, probably not fueled, but you can borrow some and pay me back later.”

The Mutons seemed interested too, crowding around the machine, examining it. Did they perhaps have an affinity for heavy machinery? They seemed to like the harvesting blades on the front, which I had to admit was a little more alarming than encouraging. Kadavy revealed more machinery, plows that would be dragged behind the tractor, pesticide sprayers, even a trailer that would make bales of hay. He seemed to think that it was all in working order, apparently my family had stored everything I would need in the barn when they had abandoned the property after the war. I didn’t have the knowledge to make any inquiries as to their operation just yet, but seeing all of the farming equipment lined up and most of it ready to use filled me with a fresh determination. We could really do this, we had everything we needed, the only complication would be imparting the knowledge to operate the vehicles and to run the farm as a whole.

“I’m not gonna lie,” Kadavy grunted, leaning on the wheel well of the tractor as he examined the engine. “It’s been hard running the farm without workers, it’s doable, but far from ideal. If we can teach these aliens I could really use the manpower. We can plant wheat in this season, all of your equipment is in working order besides a few things like fuel and a couple of flats, I can take care of that. Spare no rod kid, let’s get these Mutons orientated and the crops sown. We can start at first light tomorrow.”

“Can you bring them some pigs when you come back?”

“Aye, I can do that. I have a feeling they’re gonna be worth the investment.”

We said our goodbyes and he returned to his truck, turning off down the dusty road and heading home. He would bring anything we needed when he returned the next day. The Mutons seemed happy for the time being, at least as happy as a Muton could look, their expressions twisted into a perpetual scowl by their low brows. The largest Muton stopped me as I left the barn, towering over me and blocking the door, his size and weight all the more apparent in his new proximity. I had never been so close to a Muton before without it trying to pull my limbs off.

“RUM-BA,” he declared, slamming a fist the size of my head into his broad chest with an audible slap. I lifted the tablet computer, but it provided no translation. He repeated the vocalization and gesture, cocking his heavy head at me. “RUM-BA!”

Oh! Was that his name? Roomba? Well, that certainly lessened his intimidating aura, being named after a novelty vacuum cleaner. I pointed to him, and repeated the name. “Roomba.”

I wasn’t sure that my pronunciation was accurate, but he seemed pleased, and moved aside to allow me to pass him. He closed the door behind me as I left and made my way over to the farmhouse, eager to see Vi again. She was waiting for me in the hall, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

“His name is Roomba,” I said, and she cocked her head, not getting the joke. “Oh, come to bed, I’ll explain it later.” She didn’t protest, and followed me up the steps to our bedroom. We seemed to have gotten over our spat, I could tell that she wasn’t happy about the presence of the Mutons, but she was no longer angry with me at least. In time I would show her, she would see for herself that I had been right when my reformed Mutons were driving tractors and combine harvesters through the fields. Until then, it was easier to just let the subject lie.