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Problems quickly arose with both the steam engine and the fence. First, being fenced in limited the area they could forage in. For all sorts of things, but most importantly kindling. I gathered twigs from our yard for a while and sent bundles to them by train until I could fit a small switch between the battery and zapper circuit. This allowed them to turn off the fence briefly, permittng parties of foragers through.

The steam engine, being an educational model, was never intended to run continuously much less for days at a time. The little fellows proved extremely resourceful at jerry rigging repairs to it, but could only do so much without the ability to smelt metals.

So, I drew some pictures of how to build a medieval blacksmith’s forge. It wasn’t clear to me just how smart they are until I studied their repairs to the steam engine, but after that it came as no surprise when they managed to set up their own forge in a matter of days.

All I had to do was show them an explicit drawing of some mechanism and they soon built it. Problem was, I had to truly understand in detail how it worked because they’d build it exactly according to the drawing, so if I got something wrong, so did they.

By this time I was regularly swiping batteries from the TV remote and various appliances to keep the train running. I knew that wasn’t sustainable so I dropped some allowance money on a four pack of rechargeable batteries and a charger.

I wasted no time taking the charger apart, fitting the train engine with the rechargeable cells, and wiring it such that the train could be plugged into the steam engine/car battery assembly in the settlement to juice it back up. I didn’t like drawing on the car battery for this as it was crucial for their safety but saw no other workable solution.

Next was a replacement power supply. Asking around revealed that solar panels of the size needed were priced out of my reach. Anyway, the forest canopy prevented enough sunlight from reaching the settlement for panels to do any good. For lack of a better idea I biked to the library one Saturday and came back with a book about electrical science fair projects.

One was a variant on the familiar lemon battery. It turned out the lemon wasn’t strictly necessary, but that sticking two dissimilar metals into soil would also generate current. Not very much, but pairs of nails, tent stakes or whatever else could be wired up in series to achieve the desired voltage, and in parallel to achieve the desired amperage.

I briefly worried that the whole mess would be outside of the fence and thus vulnerable to the Tyrants before realizing I could bury all of it such that they’d never know it was there. I wound up buying a few boxes of magnesium fire starting rods and thick, three inch long lengths of copper wiring I’d had the guy at the hardware store cut for me from a spool.

Once the work of driving them into the ground in pairs and wiring them up was finished, all told they produced fourteen volts and a little over three amps. The area of forest floor the whole mess took up was impressive, although after I’d layered some soil on top of it all you couldn’t tell anything was there.

According to the book, this was how morse code relay stations were once powered in areas with no electrical infrastructure. It went on to say that if the draw were continuous, the bacterial action in the soil would not be sufficient to replenish the acidity for longer than four or five months.

I dreaded the prospect of having to find some alternative down the line, but then since the draw would be intermittent and rare I hoped my own setup might last a good deal longer. If nothing else, it would buy me time to figure out a more permanent solution.

School became a blur. The routine torment rolled off my back, as I knew I had my own wonderful, ever-growing world to retreat to provided I could make it through each day. It gave me a strength I’d never known before. Something to live for, morbid as it sounds. Until then I’d simply been surviving.

My grades began to suffer as I spent every school day dreaming up and doodling innovations to improve the settlement. When it became apparent that I wouldn’t be allowed to spend time on my “hobbies” unless my grades improved, I struck a balance between the two which both kept my parents happy and left me with a modest allotment of time in the evenings to work on various projects.

One was stacked farmland. I’d been provided with some small stackable shelves to organize my hobby stuff with but found the shelves were depressed enough that the edges would keep in a layer of soil on each. This multiplied many times the amount of arable land available for cultivating bean sprouts and other suitably small crops within the limited area inside the fence.

Mirrors affixed to the underside of each floor received sunlight redirected at them from an adjacent mirror on the forest floor in the spot where sunlight fell through an opening in the canopy for perhaps two or three hours a day.

The little fellows were delighted with it. By the next day they’d assembled a flight of stairs for reaching the various levels and begun cultivating foxfire. This avoided the need for torches or lamps for lighting, saving considerably on firewood. The steam engine was no longer in use, but kept in good condition as backup, with piles upon piles of kindling bundles heaped up next to it.

They frequently found their own uses for things. One night I peered out my window to see a startling glowing point just above where I knew the woods to be. I rushed out half dressed to see what it was, fearing perhaps they were under attack and had launched the flare. As I drew near to the woods, the light descended amidst the trees. The pieces fell into place once I arrived at the settlement.

They’d used the surplus oil to fuel a hot air balloon. Only sufficient to lift one of them, with fishing line to keep it from being blown away. I was relieved but also irritated they’d done something so risky without consulting me. I summoned the one I’d dealt with recently. As if anticipating my questions he unfolded a set of drawings I soon recognized were aerial views of the forest and surrounding land.

Near as I could figure they’d been sending one of their own up in the balloon’s gondola to sketch maps of the area. I urged them to stop, since the balloon might be spotted. As an alternative I printed out satellite imagery of the forest that I’d scaled down, with the dpi set as high as it’d go. This seemed to satisfy them and their representative agreed to cease sending the balloon up.

I returned one night to find them in the midst of a raucous party. It turned out the Tyrants had returned, but the fence repelled them. Repelled might be too mild a word. Unless their drawings were exaggerated, those vicious little shits had received a seriously rude awakening when they tried to scale those wires.

The flare actually had been fired this time. I’d never seen it, and got to wondering how good an idea it ever was. More likely to attract somebody elses attention than mine, and it hinged on the remote chance that I’d be looking at the forest when they sent it up. I made a note to devise some other type of emergency signal, but didn’t trouble the little fellows with any of my concerns.

They looked to be delirious with happiness, gorging on a feast laid out on long tables while the strongest men wrestled with each other as groups of women looked on with more than athletic interest. As I surveyed the town, I noticed that in addition to the forge, they’d also built a structure I figured for a paper mill and a number of looms. Industrious little guys!

It couldn’t last. That’s what the nagging voice in the back of my head insisted. Too idyllic. The Tyrants were just a scouting party, I felt certain of it. They’d make their move eventually, with the numbers necessary to topple the fence.

I spotted the representative I’d done most of the negotiating with so far. He too looked troubled, sitting on a thimble with his head in his hands. He’d always struck me as one of the brighter ones. “He must know”, I thought, “that war is coming.”

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