[Original Novel] Champion of the Little People, Part 5

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If not for the necessity of stealth I might’ve completed the railroad in the span of a few days. Instead it took roughly a month, stealing chances here and there to bury another tunnel section, until finally it reached a spot just outside the gate between the back yard and the field behind it. The gradual construction turned out to be a boon as it allowed time for fresh grass to grow over each newly buried tunnel section, such that it blended in with the field.

At the settlement, the tunnel emptied out into a long loop around the settlement itself, with a switchable Y junction at the mouth so the train could carry supplies around the colony before returning the way it came. There wasn’t room for a loop on my end that wouldn’t be noticed, so each time it arrived I’d have to take the train off the tracks one car at a time, then reassemble it facing in the other direction before sending it back.

It was a momentous Sunday when everything was finally in place to send the train on its maiden voyage. I used a reel of twine to measure how far it made it down the tunnel each time before snagging on something so I knew where to dig up a tunnel section and make corrections. By the end of the day, exhausted and covered in dirt, I nonetheless danced like a fool when I saw the train exit the tunnel and circle the settlement for the first time.

This greatly simplified and accelerated development of their colony. I no longer needed to wait for opportunities to visit the woods unnoticed in order to deliver supplies. Each way took an hour and eighteen minutes according to my stopwatch, and if I wasn’t around to receive them on my end, I’d supplied an additional partially buried cinderblock house where the ones who rode the train could safely stay until I had time to meet with them.

The ones who rode the train back to me always came with drawings of what they needed. Crushed cereal proved popular, as did shredded jerky. Dried berries less so, as the ones who’d spent a year underwater in the sealed jug subsisted largely on similar berries from the small bush growing inside.

This set me to thinking about the other jars I’d not yet fished out the of lake. With the beginnings of a town up and running, and the train finally operational, I felt it might make sense to bring more of them to the surface at some point.

Mom and Dad could tell something was up, but most of it was explicable as a newfound interest in various hobbies. Explaining the disappearance of the train set was more difficult. I don’t like fibbing but I couldn’t very well tell them I’d built a subway for lilliputians. So I claimed to have traded it for the various other materials that now cluttered my room, with which I’d spent many busy weekends building new amenities to ship to the burgeoning town.

I was content to accept whatever punishment Dad deemed appropriate for that, but he confided in me that he regards Aunt Lina more or less the way I do, and only tolerates her for Mom’s sake. There are times when I feel like we understand each other, however fleeting. Later that evening he gifted me an erector set in exchange for recent good grades.

I was indifferent until I saw this particular set included a fully functional scale model steam engine. I nearly leapt out of my seat in delight. Glancing back at Dad he seemed a bit confused that I liked it so much. “I quite like small machines, they’re fascinating to build” I offered, with some degree of hidden strategy. If I could get my hands on more stuff like this, the settlement could generate its own power, industrialize, and who knows what else!

As soon as I could get away without raising suspicion, I headed for the forest, steam engine in hand. My excitement dwindled as I approached the settlement. The houses’ windows were dark and no smoke came from the chimneys. One was upturned and the train track around the settlement was twisted scrap.

Tyrants. I knew they would eventually find this place but had hoped for more time to set up defenses. The little fellows took refuge in the burrow beneath the tree as planned. Excavations amidst the tree’s tangled roots testified to frustrated efforts by Tyrants to dig their way inside. I devised a nasty surprise for the next set.

Crushing a glass bottle beneath my boot, I mixed the glass shards in with loose soil which I then used to fill in the excavated spots. The next time they dug at it, they’d soon wish they hadn’t. When the hatch to the burrow opened, only one of them came out to greet me. He unfurled a drawing of three Tyrants laying waste to their village. I spent the next hour or so drawing various ideas for walls, fences and minefields while my little consultant looked on and nodded thoughtfully.

For the time being, I glued grass fragments to the outside of each cinderblock house to make it harder to lift or tip without injury. Then advised the Homunculi to remain in the shelter while I figured out a solution.

I headed back to the house and dug through the garage. Nothing looked applicable to the problem until I uncovered an old disused bug zapper. Not terribly helpful in its present form, but the circuit inside could electrify any pair of wire loops provided they were close enough.

The next two hours were spent building a crude but functional electric fence. Each pylon two feet high, with wire looped around spaced just right so that anything touching or passing through would cause an electrical arc. The problem was supplying enough power for the whole mess. For the time being I ran an extension cord out to it and buried it alongside the train tunnel.

That wouldn’t cut it long term. Dad would eventually notice. Plan B was to save my allowance until I could buy a pair of car batteries. As I didn’t need to power the bulb which normally attracts insects, the zapper only really pulled current when frying something. It could run for days on one of the batteries while the other charged at home. Then on the weekend, I’d swap ‘em.

This worked so well it was tempting to supply for the rest of their needs this way. But batteries are expensive and eventually need replacement. Ideally I wanted to set them up in such a way that they could provide for themselves indefinitely. So, I got to work building them a powerplant. The first iteration consisted of the model steam engine mated to the dynamo from a hand-cranked emergency radio.

I tried powering the fence with it directly. It didn’t pack much of a punch. After having the little guys load some chopped twigs into it, set them ablaze and get the contraption up and running, I tested the fence with a hot dog on a stick. It fizzled. Eventually I mustered the bravery to try it with my hand. The shock only barely stung. Not remotely sufficient.

What I could do with it, however, was charge the battery. As the fence drew next to no current most of the time, the battery could be trickle charged by the makeshift steam generator until full. I housed the electronics, battery and steam engine in an upturned plastic bin with a hole cut in the roof for the smokestack. Didn’t want rain shorting any of it out.

It was a bit of a chore instructing the Homunculi in its use. They had no familiarity with electricity and regarded it as magical. I pointed out the voltmeter I’d affixed to the circuit which displayed the battery’s state of charge and, through a long series of drawings, explained that the fence would only work while the battery was charged and that keeping the steam engine running was the only way to do that.

The one I was dealing with disseminated this understanding to the rest, then assigned six of the others to keeping the steam engine supplied with firewood and water, carrying away the ash, and monitoring charge level. Another ten were added to kindling detail as their need for twigs had just sharply increased.

As a final precaution, I nicked the flare gun out of a neighbor’s boat and rigged it facing upwards at a break in the forest canopy. Fishing line from the trigger allowed a few Homunculi tugging on it to fire the flare skyward. It took only two drawings to make it clear to them what it was for and when to use it.

The sun now low on the horizon, I trekked across the field and found to my relief that Mom and Dad were not yet home. I suspected Dad knew by now, but had grown tired of punishing me for it. Mom was the one I had to worry about. According to her, I could easily be eaten alive by bears anywhere outside of the suburb. And grownups are supposed to be the rational ones.

^{Stay Tuned for Part 6!}

It took him whole month to build the complete railroad until it reached the spot outside the gate. In the meantime the whole track blended in thanks to grass that had grown during his construction time. Every time he uses the transport he has to hide it to make sure no one would notice. Imagining these little fellows driving the 🚂 is pretty cute. Every time they drove back the had updated map with the item they need. He was always setting aside different items for little fellas including this fully functional scale model steam engine. Once he came back to the forest the tyrants already attacked the settlement. Fortunately the little fellas took refuge. He had to hurry to set the new defense system. Along with other defense systems he also built an electric fence. But he needed power supply for battery powering the fence so he built the power plant. I can tell for guy his age he was very creative 😆.