Third colony galena chro.., p.4
Third Colony (Galena Chronicles Book 2), page 4
The four patient beds near the entrance were empty. Gavin funneled his remaining strength into a final effort and hoisted his father up onto the bed. He cried out as he settled onto his back, his eyes sealed tight against the pain. Gavin stripped off his and his father’s packs and tossed their stunners to the side.
“What happened?” Leera asked as she hurried over. She grabbed a pair of gloves from a sterilization box and expertly slipped them on.
Gavin breathed hard from exertion while he described the encounter — one of the extremely rare times he was grateful he didn’t need to bother with speech.
Leera watched his hands intently, seeming to catch most of his story about their encounter with the sky beast. She bent over Merritt and gently probed his ribcage. He winced and tried to turn away, but she held his shoulder in a surprisingly firm grip while continuing her examination.
“Any other injuries?” she asked. Using gloved fingers, she parted Merritt’s hair in several places to check his scalp.
Gavin shook his head, no.
Just ribs, he signed.
Over the years, Leera was one of the few colonists who had picked up more than just a few words of sign language during everyday interactions with Gavin.
“Well, my dear,” Leera said with a sigh, her kindly face offering Merritt a sympathetic smile. “It’s the moss for you.”
Gavin’s father groaned in disapproval. “Too much…to do. Hydro dam maintenance.”
“You should only be out for a day or so,” she told him, already walking over to the moss tanks.
Four gestation tanks gurgled softly beneath a window — squat cylinders sitting upright, with green metal exteriors and plexi windows to reveal their contents. The low-grade current provided by the colony’s sole hydroelectric dam was enough to keep them bubbling and provide additional power for the few pieces of medical equipment that required it.
Thick rectangles of sod-like material slightly larger than shoebox lids floated in the tanks, occasionally contracting in slow-motion like the pulsing of a jellyfish.
Leera pulled on a thick nylon glove that went up to her elbow. She popped open one of the tanks and stepped back. A loud hiss and a puff of steam escaped the container, and the water bubbled furiously for a brief moment before calming. Leera gingerly reached her protected hand into the tank and scooped out its contents.
The patch of moss dripped purplish water onto the white floor as she carried it to the front of the long room. Gavin’s father watched her approach with wide eyes. Even after eight years on Galena, he hadn’t been injured badly enough to fall into unconsciousness while the living moss repaired his wounds.
As Leera placed the wet patch of rectangular living moss on his father’s chest, Gavin couldn’t help but remember how his own life was saved by the moss. He would have died beneath the fallen storage crate if Leera hadn’t carried him to the moss grove.
That was back before she figured out how to cultivate the organism outside of its native environment. Knowing that the moss died during the process of healing others, she made it her mission to discover a sustainable way to harvest it.
Gavin’s father let out a long sigh, and he closed his eyes. The moss seemed to flatten over his chest, shifting higher and stretching to cover his entire ribcage.
“He’ll be fine,” Leera assured him.
Slow day, Gavin signed, nodding toward the empty beds.
Leera smiled. “Thankfully. Now I have less guilt about leaving on my little adventure.”
Where? Gavin asked.
Her eyes sparkled with delight.
“Niku’s found something in the Casmin Sea. A tunnel he thinks leads out to the ocean. An unnatural tunnel. I’m meeting up with him and Miles and one of his rangers to explore.”
Gavin perked up at hearing Miles’s name.
Room for one more? he signed.
“We only have four suits, I’m afraid. Besides, I can think of one person you’d rather be spending time with.”
She’d still be here when I got back, he signed grumpily before pulling on his backpack and grabbing his stunner.
A shadow passed over Leera’s face as he turned to walk away.
“Gavin, a bit of advice.”
He stopped and met Leera’s eye.
“She won’t always be.”
Outside, the air smelled of wet soil. A cold breeze pulled away the temporary relative warmth of the hospital.
“Everything all right, kid?”
A wiry man with a wispy goatee approached. Despite the cold, he wore only his padded workpants and a loose t-shirt. Slender corded muscles flexed in his thin arms as he nervously ran a rough palm over his newly-shaved scalp.
Cracked ribs, Gavin signed. Leera gave him the moss. Said it should only take one day.
Skip sucked his teeth and looked away, shaking his head. He’d made fast friends with Gavin’s father on the voyage to Galena.
“I told him I should go with you. But he wanted some of that ‘father-son time’ he’s always goin’ on about.” Skip looked at Gavin, studying him closely. “How ‘bout you?”
I’m fine. I’m faster than my old man.
Skip burst out laughing, causing several passing colonists to turn in surprise.
“Ain’t that the truth? What was it, a cave worm?”
Sky beast, Gavin signed.
Skip stopped laughing. “And you both made it back alive.”
Well, signed Gavin, hesitating. It was injured.
Skip clapped him on the back and squeezed his shoulder as they started walking.
“Can I give you some advice?”
Why not? Everyone else is.
“When you tell the story to Shurri, leave out the injury.”
Why does everyone care about me and Shurri?! Gavin signed in a petulant flurry.
Skip laughed again.
“It’s a small colony, kid. Best way to keep a secret is to not have any.”
Is something wrong with the hydro dam? My dad mentioned it in the hospital.
“That thing’s always on the fritz,” Skip said, waving away Gavin’s concern. “Your dad’ll take care of it when he’s done bein’ lazy.” He cracked his back and let out a content sigh. “Speakin’ of which, time for nap number two.” He winked and strolled away whistling.
The Cohen’s farm was smack in the middle of the eastern plots, on a long sloping hill that faced the morning sun. Gavin admired healthy stalks of soyflower as he walked the beaten path that led past the other farms. While he couldn’t eat it because of his soy intolerance, he took pride in growing it for the other colonists.
The original plan for the farming colonists was to give most of their harvest back to the company that financed the journey. That crop debt was to feed the next wave of colonists until proper infrastructure was established — eventually transforming Galena into a world not too different than Earth.
Those plans crashed along with the Halcyon, the ship that brought them to their new home.
Now, the colonists ate what they needed, traded for what they wanted, and stored the rest. There had been a few minor disputes over the years, but Gavin’s father and all of the other farmers usually arrived at the same solution. There was no magistrate or mayor. Gavin’s father had volunteered to oversee the organization and maintenance of the colony, but his word carried no more weight than Skip’s or Leera’s.
Gavin turned left at the border of the Cohen’s farm, and stopped.
Shurri waited for him next to a stand of soyflower stalks, her straw-colored hair flapping in the cold wind. She wore a light blue, long-sleeved thermal shirt under linen overalls, with a length of black cloth tied around her waist for a belt.
How did you know I was coming? Gavin signed with a crooked grin as he walked to her.
I could smell you, she signed back, then she punched him in the arm.
He mouthed an exaggerated Ow and rubbed his bicep.
You were supposed to be here over an hour ago, she signed.
His smile broadened. My dad and I fought the sky beast.
Shurri’s eyebrows went up skeptically as she crossed her arms. She was a year younger than Gavin, and had long ago mastered the entire repertoire of her emotive mother’s facial expressions.
I’m serious! Gavin signed. My dad’s in the hospital!
Her skeptical eyes narrowed.
And you’re not dead? Was the animal already hurt?
Details! he signed with a flourish before putting his arm over her shoulder. Let’s focus on the bravery part.
“Shurri!” came the shrill voice of her mom from the direction of the Cohen residence.
The two teenagers ducked behind the stand of soyflower stalks as if someone had hurled a stone.
“What’s your plan, then, oh brave one?” Shurri whispered, her eyes sparking with mischief.
Gavin grabbed Shurri’s hand and pulled her up with him. For a moment their faces were an inch apart. They lingered there for a long moment, breathing hard with excitement.
“SHURRI!” her mom screamed.
This way! Gavin signed.
He took off at a full run. Shurri ran after him, easily catching up with her long strides.
“You’re still slow,” she said between breaths.
You don’t know where we’re going, he signed clumsily. The soyflower stalks whispered as they ran past.
She fell in behind him as he led them out of the eastern farms and through the colony’s common area. Leera, Niku, Corporal Miles Turner, and a young ranger with black hair named Weston were loading up a handcart with supplies when Gavin and Shurri burst from behind the administrative building like rabbits spooked from a bush.
He waved at a smiling Leera as they ran toward the western farms.
“Gavin!” Shurri called, breathless.
They skirted the northwestern farms until the river came into view. Gavin stopped at the top of a low rise, hands on his knees, panting. Shurri slowed to stop at the bottom of the rise and walked up it slowly, one hand pressed to her side.
What was that about slow? he signed.
She kicked a clump of soil in his direction as she stood next to him and looked at the river.
A short distance away, a small natural waterfall poured over an outcropping of rock. Farther on, the twin mountains loomed high — the source of the river.
Straddled over the rocky outcropping was a low metal bridge, the foundations of which were buried deep on either side of the river. Metal rods lined the underside of the bridge, plunging into the cold, rapid waters. The rods supported the hydroelectric apparatus beneath the surface.
“Doesn’t look like it’s working,” said Shurri, starting to catch her breath.
Gavin walked at a slow pace down the hill, trying to ignore the stitch in his side for Shurri’s sake. She walked beside him, her cheeks flushed.
My dad said it’s broken, Gavin signed.
“And we’re going to fix it?”
He shrugged. Shurri glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
“Or was this just an excuse to get me alone, away from my farm?” She laughed easily when he blushed. “It’s too easy with you.”
They stood at the edge of the three-meter-tall dam on the eastern bank of the river. Gavin was much younger when the salvaged dam had been repaired and installed. He had little reason to visit the site over the years, having come back only once with his father for a bit of routine maintenance the year before.
The dam had been a humming, churning thing, turning the water below into a boiling white cauldron. Now the machine was silent, and river water flowed between the rods undisturbed.
“What are we supposed to do with this?” Shurri asked.
Gavin used handholds on the side of the dam to climb up. When he got to the top, he turned back and looked questioningly at Shurri. She crossed her arms and walked toward the edge of the river, then plopped down cross-legged and plucked at a blade of grass.
Gavin scrambled on all fours to the middle of the dam, then dropped to his stomach and turned so he could access the main control panel on the downstream side.
“You don’t even know what you’re looking at,” Shurri said. She threw a small stone into the river.
Gavin popped open the control panel and stared at its contents.
There was no official school on Galena. His father said it was in the works, but with only three sixteen year olds and a handful of toddlers, there was no reason to rush.
Gavin, Shurri, and her twin brother, Arthur, worked alongside skilled colonists, learning agriculture, mechanics, solar engineering, and medicine, among others. If they had questions about Earth’s history, they asked and were eagerly answered.
The control panel was a deep box filled with wires and buttons. Gavin rubbed his hands together and blew against his fingers to warm them up.
He tried the easy options first: primer, fuses, and humidity sensors. The controls were dry. He activated the main pump and heard a single chug as the dam burped a white cloud of water from below.
With a knowing grin, he sat up and waved his arms to get Shurri’s attention.
Kick the side for me, he signed.
She rolled her eyes.
Do you want to be a hero and fix it or not? he asked, still smiling.
Shurri got to her feet with exaggerated slowness and walked back to the dam. She tapped its metal foundation with the tip of her dirty white shoe.
“Like that?” she teased.
A little harder, Gavin signed.
She tapped it again.
Harder!
As she pulled her foot back to kick, he reached deep into the control panel and twisted a cube-shaped relay.
Shurri kicked the dam hard and the river water beneath it exploded upward, soaking Gavin.
As he wiped icy cold water from his eyes, he saw Shurri on the soft ground, curled up laughing.
He slowly climbed down the side of the dam and flicked his hands free of water.
How’s your foot? he signed as he plopped down wetly beside her.
“It hurts,” she said, her laughter tapering off. “But it was worth it. And now I can tell everyone I fixed the dam.”
Like they’d believe you.
“Oh, and they’ll believe you about the sky beast?”
A cold wind chilled Gavin to the bone. He watched the dam as it came back to life. The waters below roiled steadily and the machinery hummed.
So, he signed, turning toward Shurri. Now that we’re alone…
He didn’t have her attention. It was laser-focused on the bright blue sky.
“Gavin…” she whispered, her eyes welling with tears.
He jumped to his feet and shielded his eyes from the pale yellow glare of Phobis.
Stuck like a dart in the sky, in low enough orbit to see its hazy outline, was a starship.
MERRITT
Merritt awoke alone in the hospital. The light was fading through the windows, meaning he’d been unconscious most of the day — or the better part of the next.
He groaned and swung his legs off the side of the table. He wore a clean, loose linen shirt and his padded utility pants. On the floor next to the table was his backpack and the dried-out husk of the living moss that healed his wounds.
Merritt carefully rotated his arms in their sockets, probing the soreness of his chest. It had nearly vanished. He lifted his shirt. Only a faint purple bruise clouded the right side of his ribcage.
“Hello?” he croaked, his throat dry.
A bottle of water had been set out for him. He drank it down quickly, wincing at the soreness in his chest. Moving slowly, he shouldered his backpack and headed out into the cold evening air.
The common area was empty. Usually, at that time of day, it was bustling with colonists trading for their evening meals or sharing stories over mugs of Skip’s homemade potato vodka.
A brief shock of panic coursed through his mind as he thought of the crab sticks. Had their batteries failed? Did the migration come early?
Then he heard laughter, and a shout of joy in the distance — and music.
He followed the sounds past a few lonely tree trunks to find nearly two dozen of his fellow colonists at the edge of the western farms. An orange and blue bonfire roared in a hastily-dug fire pit while Skip stumbled with a jug of his vodka, pouring more of it on the ground than into the eager mugs of his friends. Two of them strummed homemade guitars while others half-sang, half-shouted to the heavens.
Merritt felt a smile growing on his face despite knowing why they were celebrating. It seemed like years since the last real gathering of this kind.
Skip noticed him. His eyes sparked with firelight as he howled to the sky and beat his chest. He shoved his liquor jug into someone’s startled hands and beelined for Merritt. Tears took the place of the firelight in his eyes as he smiled bigger than Merritt had ever seen.
“What?” Merritt asked at last, half-laughing.
Skip looked up at the darkening sky. One star shone brighter than all the others. Except it wasn’t a star.
It was a starship.
Merritt’s backpack slid off his shoulder and hit the soft ground with a thud. His knees weakened and buckled. Skip caught him halfway to the soil and eased him down.
Merritt couldn’t take his eyes off the ship.
“They…” he said weakly.
“They’re here,” Skip whispered, his voice tremulous with excitement. He sat next to Merritt and looked skyward. “Maybe now we can finally get some hot water in our tanks!”
Merritt smiled, but a weight grew in his belly as he watched the other colonists celebrate.
“Do you think they want to leave?” he asked.
Skip’s gaze slowly dropped from the firmament. “Some do. Some have had their fill of the frontier life. More than a couple got it in their heads that Earth improved after we left.”
Merritt nodded. “That was always going to be a possibility, even with the resupply missions. What about you? Would you go back?”
Skip put his arm around Merritt’s shoulders and pulled his friend close. “You know the answer to that, partner.”
Merritt looked up at the ship. At that distance, it was no longer than his fingernail. Sunlight gleamed off its hull.
