Colony worlds, p.33
Colony Worlds, page 33
"I'd like to," he lied, "but I think not."
MarEe pouted and switched off. RoMan let the afterimage dissipate before opening his eyes.
A pair of dark brown irises, scant inches away, stared back. RoMan blinked rapidly, trying to clear the image, but his sibling's stare was physical. NorMan had obviously slipped into the room while he talking to MarEe. Like him, NorMan was a registered male. Though they had occasionally tried female, both preferred being male.
"You weak bastard," NorMan said, "Why don't you tell her straight up?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but the timing's not right."
"Oh really. And when will that be? When you're safely down there?"
Anger and guilt heated RoMan's face. As usual, his older half-brother had cut straight to the bone. It shouldn't be possible, but perhaps familial ties were stronger than Observer training. Being brothers had never spared him from NorMan's abrasive approach. It was little consolation that NorMan had a similar effect on everybody. observer training had turned his natural talent into a vocation.
Their common parent was NorMan's mother, RoMan's father. Already an adult when RoMan was born, NorMan had formally reversed his name from Man Nor, as a declaration of his kinship with the sibling his mother had sired.
The ID linked to the ping behind his right ear belonged to AmRik. "I have to take this," he told NorMan, thankful for the interruption of an official call,
AmRik was as usual terse, "I cannot hold the shuttle indefinitely."
When the call ended, he found NorMan observing him. "Well, don't just stand there, move it."
RoMan took a last look around the quarters that had been his home since he was twelve. He was leaving it for a planet: rocks, vegetation, animals, and germ riddled air.
His escorts took him to a waiting lift. Unlike RoMan, they had magnetic boots to hold them to the metal floor, as powerful motors hauled the lift down through the spoke to the gravity free hub. In the firm grip of his escort, only his hair and stomach lifted during their rapid descent into weightlessness. The lift deposited the trio in the crowded shuttle terminal. He couldn't help observing that some were eager, others distraught at the departure of the last shuttle.
RoMan tapped the file tube in his suit for reassurance as his escorts propelled him through the terminal to the waiting shuttle. He turned at the sound of a scuffle, and briefly glimpsed a frantically waving MarEe standing at the barrier in front of a worried-looking NorMan. At least his escorted departure would back up his story that he really did not have time for MarEe's 'special goodbye'.
The terminal bay doors parted and his escort propelled him down the umbilical into the hands of the shuttle steward. She instantly kicked off, imparting a sense of urgency. The umbilical snapped into place behind her, sealing the airlock as she deftly landed, shoving him toward the nearest handhold. He bruised his knuckles, trying to get a grip on the vibrating handle, the shuttle already in motion.
As the steward, ViLat, according to her name tag, buckled him into his crash couch, the shuttle slid from the hub and leapt into space.
5 Changes
When Ald's band next returned to the area, Una, among others, was very unwell. If Sha's years of accumulated lore, medicinal herbs, and chanting spells could do nothing for her, then there was nothing anyone could do. Sha himself, too old to travel, had taken his long walk before the band left their winter caves.
The illness was one of life's cruel jokes. En had died of it, and Una knew it was killing her. The child was another; three summers mated to En, and their only blessing was not his. Flat-faced Eni, named after his father, was from the spirit of the band's occasional guest, Munt. She marvelled that En, may the gods protect his spirit, had never noticed.
Munt visited and acknowledged to Una the child might be his, yet he appeared bewildered by the prospect. Una pleaded with him to take the child back with him, but he refused. He soon excused himself and left in a hurry. Una never saw him again.
The effect of the illness on their small society was a dramatic reversal of fortune. The replacement of a prime hunter and soon a prime gatherer, leaving behind an infant would stress the band's resources; more mouths to feed and fewer providers.
The leadership changed under unfavourable conditions. Ced seized control in the name of his dead brother En. The displaced Ald took Sha's mantle and advised the new leader to cut his losses; let those showing signs of illness take the long walk.
Una appealed to the women, but both Adi and Nut already had a child at breast. Two at the breast would be one too many. It was always kinder to put the weakest twin out of its misery. The two older women, both twenty-eight; hearth mates to the past and present leaders said nothing. The three-month-old flat-faced Eni had nothing to offer the band but another mouth. Making one last attempt, Una pleaded with the diminished band for someone to take Eni. The boy was unaffected. Like Munt, he would be a skilled hunter one day. He was, after all, nephew of the new leader and the grandson of the venerable healer Sha.
After consulting with the spirits, Ced told them the band's responsibility for Eni had died with En. Munt, in bringing illness to the band, for all knew it was he, had worn out his welcome. The lives, the illness had claimed, balanced the life-debts the band owed for En and Gud. They must now move far away from here, he told them, reminding them of the bad omens they had seen, the ball of fire descending over the flat-faces glittering caves. Already the unsettled herds had altered their migration route. And they must follow and since life would be even harsher in unfamiliar territory, better to discard any extra burdens now.
Desperate to save her only child from having his head humanely bashed against a rock, Una told them she would take Eni to the flat-faces. They would know how to take care of him as he resembled Munt more than her. It would save them the trouble of weeping women. She was dying anyway and must soon take the long walk. Ced and Ald did not protest.
Her sombre child in her arms, Una walked away.
The enormous black eyes under heavy brow ridges had already lost their usual sparkle. Although stocky and well adapted to the cold, the illness and her exertions were conspiring with the bitter chill and the howling wind to take her.
Una cradled the boy in strong, short arms, sheltering him from the icy blasts with her body as she trudged up the steadily increasing slope, struggling with dying breaths to reach the glittering caves. Now, in her eighteenth summer, she had expected to be only halfway through her life, not at its end.
Ced was right to move the band on without her and Eni. They could ill afford not to follow the herds. There had been empathy for her situation and many farewells, but no protests. Even En's father Ald, who she suspected knew that Eni was not kin had not protested. As always, his foremost concern was for the band's wellbeing.
The hope that the flat-faces might recognise Eni as kin and use their magic to save him was all that sustained her on her last journey. Already debilitated by the sickness she had no reserves against the bitter cold. The day would be hot, but that warmth would come too late. Una sat motionless, as near to their caves as she dared, cradling the infant in mute appeal to Munt's people as the heat of her brief life drained away.
6 Breach
The intermittent buzz behind HeLen's right ear, though gentle, was insistent. It was rare for anyone to disturb the Settlement OIC in quarters, even if the term 'off duty' didn't apply. HeLen acknowledged LinDer's call.
Behind her closed eyes, her deputy LinDer reported the Duty Watch had two natives inside the perimeter, one adult and one child, both in a bad way. LinDer agreed with them that this pair needed the OIC's attention.
"Can it wait till morning?"
"I don't think they'll last."
Reluctantly, HeLen agreed to come and look, then opened her eyes, breaking the connection. It was damn near morning anyway. She tried unsuccessfully to slip out of RoLik's bed without disturbing him. They exchanged a glance in the dim light from the planet's solitary moon. The understanding between them required few words. HeLen tapped the right side of her head. RoLik nodded and re-settled into the bed. She sighed with relief.
She began this relationship shortly after she and LinDer's parted. The two female oriented leaders had explored the limits of their relationship. LinDer had wanted something more, though what, she couldn't say precisely.
RoLik was a genuine change, fully male with no intention of being otherwise, but the relationship was not working out as she had hoped. He obviously enjoyed the role, always thrusting energetically; sometimes a little too absently for her liking. He was however very supportive of her 'fauna' decisions and she may have need of his support in the coming weeks. Council in their infinite wisdom was saddling her with an observer, the penultimate move prior to replacement. Somebody down here must have made an official complaint, or maybe she had just read too much into AmRik's hypnotically soothing voice. She linked into her office and checked the date. Damn, the observer's arrival was today as well.
HeLen's private accommodation on level four was three levels below where the natives had breached the perimeter. For fitness, HeLen chose the stairs rather than the auto-ramp and besides it was more direct. Taking two steps at time she arrived in the middle of corridor 7-North six minutes later; two minutes per flight, not bad. The corridor stretched into dimness, left and right. Directly in front was the Watch Room, lit but empty.
HeLen briefly closed her right eye to blast LinDer for leaving it unwatched, but then held off. The reprimand could wait until later, in private. "Where are you precisely?" she demanded.
"Outside the Physics workshop, 7-West," said LinDer, apologising for leaving the Watch Room unattended, "I needed help with monitoring equipment. They're already on their way back."
7-West was in the entrance corridor for Pad Two, right where the bloody observer was coming in. The roar from the descending shuttle quickened her steps.
7 Landing
Born on the platform en route to this system, RoMan had trained for the rigours of settling on a planet, but the prospect terrified him. Even while training, landing was so far in the future, he couldn't imagine it happening. Gripping the arms of his seat, he closed his eyes and tried not to dwell on his immanent future.
As the shuttle's vertical descent slowed, RoMan chanted a mantra, and held his breath. I must have been breathing a thin mix when I didn't object to this assignment. It's MarEe's fault. A planet is a nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there.
The vibration steadied and the roar diminished; they had landed. RoMan opened his eyes to bright sunlight, relayed from outside to the imitation window. For the first time in his life, he was on a planet. He looked down to find his white-knuckled hands still clamped rigidly to the armrest. He willed his fingers to relax.
"I suppose there is no point in me just staying right here until we go back up?" he asked ViLat.
"No sir, we will be here until the Flying Horse returns from perihelion."
RoMan, facing the inevitable, stood and followed her to the airlock. Despite the brightness of the genuine sunlight, it was, thought RoMan, gentle on his retina, tempered by the thick atmosphere. ViLat handed him a mask.
"What's this for?"
"Quarantine regulations. To prevent an exchange of micro-organisms."
RoMan stared at her with a raised eyebrow and waited. She didn't have a mask, and both airlock hatches were open. He saw her glance at the name and designation tag on his jumpsuit and watched the implications sink in. Only a fellow observer could expect to get away with lying to an observer.
"It takes a while to acquire the taste, sir."
Again, a sense of the inevitable prompted RoMan to give the mask back, step up to the open hatch, and take a deep breath.
He reeled as unadulterated air assaulted his senses. His nasal passages, palate, tongue, and throat all reacted at once. His eyes watering, he sneezed uncontrollably. The potent air was also freezing. ViLat steadied him. When he stopped gasping and his eyes cleared, ViLat helped him out onto the gantry along with other disembarking crew and newly arriving settlers, smiling or smirking at the observer's awkwardness.
As the gantry lift lowered them to the pad's apron, the view struck a familiar chord. He had seen it displayed on the picture window in AmRik's office. The difference was subtle; peripheral vision made it more expansive and movement brought it to life.
Out on the plain, he clearly saw a small group of the so-called natives trailing a large herd of mammoth moving north. The leading native turned and raise his right arm straight up, a thick stick held horizontally, as if in salute. RoMan glanced sideways but saw nothing. A powerful impression remained that someone beside him had waved back. That level of interaction was way beyond AmRik's worst nightmare and showed the sentience claim to be true.
Peering down through the gantry's spidery construction, the size of the Settlement impressed him; a series of linked modules spreading over two ridges. He couldn’t help but wonder why Council had invested so much time, effort, and resources without first confirming that the planet was uninhabited.
The gantry lift bumped to a halt and RoMan stepped out onto a large number two in faded red, painted on the apron. He lingered behind as the crew moved towards the entrance, fascinated by a cornucopia of interesting biology around the pad's perimeter: moss-covered rocks, twisted trees, buzzing insects. When he looked back, the queue at the iris scanner had dwindled to two. He moved to catch up.
A short flight of steps led down to a long verandah, open on one side, a featureless wall on the other. It ended in the familiar blue-bordered doors of the entrance. The doors closed behind the last crew as RoMan reached the bottom of the steps.
ViLat hadn't waited for him, and nobody from the settlement had come out to meet him.
8 Native
Module seven was a huge rectangular structure over four levels. From level seven at ground level, the module climbed the northern ridge up to level ten.
Cursing bad timing, HeLen stepped into the Watch Room for a quick summary of settlement activity. Beneath each hologram was a collection of biometric indicators that monitored her staff via their implants. LinDer and the Duty Watch were wide awake. Same with the seven crew of the shuttle. MarDu and his team, currently twenty miles from the settlement, were stirring. RoLik also showed as active, probably unable to get back to sleep after she disturbed him. Thirty new ones popped up as she watched and she paused long enough to scan the fresh faces, curious to see if she could pick out the observer. Nobody stood out.
Leaving the Watch Room, HeLen jogged along 7-North's corridor to 7-West. Lights turned on before her and off after her. She was always in a pool of light she couldn't escape even if she ran. Continuous windows on 7-North overlooked an enclosed courtyard two levels below. An exchange of heated remarks reached her as she turned the corner, nearly bumping into the Duty Watch, hurrying the other way. Further down the corridor, LinDer, caged in her own pool of light, was adjusting the controls of an instrument on a trolley of monitoring equipment. At least she had done some preliminary investigation before waking me.
HeLen caught glimpses through the window to her right of the source of the alarm as she approached. It looked more like a lump of rock sitting on the grass than a native except for some slight movements. Hoping to wrap this up before the observer found her, HeLen snapped at LinDer, "What's the status?"
LinDer looked up from her scrutiny of the monitor. "The adult, female is dead, frozen. The infant's heart rate is slow, brain activity rising, on the point of waking but its other metabolic functions are showing signs of distress."
HeLen, looking at the close-up could see from the pronounced brow ridges the lump was indeed a 'native', squatting on the frozen ground, huddled protectively around a languidly stirring infant.
"The child won't last long. The outside temperature is near freezing," continued LinDer, pointing to another readout on the trolley.
HeLen left the obvious question unspoken. Why was this case any different?
"Wait, the child is turning this way again. Focus on the face," LinDer said.
The sudden eruption of sirens, triggered by movement inside the perimeter, drowned HeLen's expletives. A settler had wandered from the designated pathway between pad-2 and 7's north entrance.
Seeing LinDer already dealing with it, she went back to studying the infant. He, as the monitor determined, wasn't native. A child little different to one she always imagined having, when this was over, and the settlement decreed as permanent.
9 Observer
RoMan, peeved that the settlement had forgotten him, stepped off the verandah and strode towards an interesting landform out by the perimeter, much like a termite mound. Wailing sirens erupted all around him. He slapped his hands over his ears.
The alarm stopped almost immediately, replaced by a terse voice. "What the hell do you think you're doing settler?"
Turning, RoMan faced the loud speaker and held up his hands, palms open like holding up a large object. The gesture, a combination of I give up and I don't understand met with a brief chuckle. "Don't move. Someone will come and get you."
While he waited, RoMan squatted to inspect the ground. Soil, real planetary soil. The rising sun was not warm enough yet to dispel the frost, and he had left a crisp footprint. He scraped up a pinch of the white-brown mixture, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It felt coarse and cold and left a residue when he dropped the sample. Space, this stuff was dirty, probably unhygienic as well. Yet he knew the settlements grew food in it, without the necessity of a nutrient bath. That would disgust MarEe.
