driven them mercilessly, but he has also kept them well fed and motivated. His leadership style is firm and intelligent. When the men look at him, they seem to tremble with eagerness to obey him and make him praise them. It’s not too different from how I feel about him. He may be a bossy guy, but when you know your stuff as well as he does, anything else would be weak.
I get to the top of the structure and gaze down into it. From here, the modifications we’ve made to create the Factory look tiny compared to the great chaos of alien construction around it.
We’ll be safe from dactyls, from all other dinos, from evil tribes, from bad weather, and hopefully from dragons. We know they don’t like the aliens that built this thing. Still, maybe this place can be used in my vague plan that’s based on Brank’ox’s original idea for his treasure. This is a very chaotic place if you don’t know it.
- - -
“That should be much more than enough.”
I have to keep my jaw from dropping. The men have cut down and gathered an enormous heap of hardwood that will now be burned to make charcoal. Some of the tribes know about charcoal from before, and the cavemen from other tribes learn about it when they join our army. Along with a lot of other things that the married men think they should know, so that they become some kind of renaissance cavemen or as close to that as possible.
“Can one ever have too much charcoal?” Brank’ox replies.
“I guess not. But I think most of that has to be carried back to the village when we’re done here.”
The other guys are busy covering the wood in clay, making a pile about fifteen feet high.
The idea is that when wood burns with very little oxygen, all the contaminants and flammable materials evaporate and burn off. That leaves the charcoal as almost pure carbon. When it’s then used for fuel, it doesn’t burn with wasteful flames, but smolders and glows, creating a very intense and controlled heat. The tribes that use charcoal for forging iron usually have much higher quality steel than the others, because they work with higher temperatures than normal firewood can supply.
“Very well.” Brank’ox nods. “A good amount for our tribe. I would like to send them home soon. Is there anything else you need them to do?”
I don’t need to think about it. “No. But they should eat something first.”
The men finish the clay kiln outside the hardwood, including a long smokestack that will help the process. Then they insert six burning torches from various angles, the pile starts to smoke, and nobody will be able to go near it for a couple of days.
We all have a big meal, sitting on heaps of soft furs.
I give every man a generous cup of not-tequila. “Thank you all for helping us,” I say when we’re finished. “And for keeping me safe in the jungle. If this works out the way I hope, it could be very important for the tribe. Get home safely.”
They shyly say their goodbyes, then march out into the jungle where the shadows are already growing longer.
Then we’re finally alone, just Brank’ox and me sitting on the upper platform, watching the sun go down while a pleasant fire crackles in front of us. We’re pleasantly exhausted from the hectic day and sipping on not-tequila. I’ve decided to ration it so that we can have one drink each every seven days as a reward for a productive week. And I hope we’ll have at least some productive weeks.
I take a deep breath, just enjoying the moment and the anticipation. “Not a bad place we have here.”
“We have made it ours,” Brank’ox decides. “It’s no longer a mysterious place made by aliens, nor the sacred dwelling of the Ancestors. We own it now.”
The sun dips below the horizon, far away. Like clockwork, the familiar night sounds from the jungle start up.
“The creatures are much closer here than in the village,” I observe. “Just listen.”
“They have not yet learned to be afraid of us,” Brank’ox says. “But they will.”
“Oh? We don’t need to do any hunting here, do we?”
He nods down to the food storage hut. “With that full to the bursting point? We’ll struggle to eat our way through half of it. No, we won’t need to hunt here. But someone will, and then the Bigs and Smalls will know to not get