The Fila Epiphany
Page 8
“I’m sorry,” Osias said. “I can’t explain right now. I have to deal with this.”
“You’re at the lake now?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Cariad replied. “I’m coming out there.”
“No, there’s no need for that.”
“Well, I’m planetside now and I’d like to help. Woken should be involved in fixing colony problems.”
“Hmm… Okay. But I don’t know how you’re going to get out here.”
Cariad was already striding in the direction of the flitter shed. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”
However, when she arrived at the shed, it was closed and locked. She knocked on the door but no one answered. Walking to the lake was out of the question. It would take her too long and, more importantly, the sluglimpets came out after dark. Cariad was wondering if maybe she shouldn’t have been so set on helping out when someone walked past on the street. She caught up to the Gen, a young woman who seemed to be on her way home.
“Excuse me,” Cariad said. “Do you know where I can find the person who’s responsible for the flitters?”
“Verney?” the woman replied. “That’s easy. He lives right there.” She pointed at the small, single-story next door to the flitter shed.
“Of course,” Cariad said. “Thanks.”
Verney came to his door wiping his mouth. His hair was thin and close-shaven. He didn’t appear to mind being interrupted while at his dinner until Cariad saw the signs of recognition in his eyes. Immediately, his expression grew narrow and suspicious. She was familiar with this attitude toward her as a Woken. It wasn’t without just cause, so she never took offense. But she needed this man’s help.
“My name’s Cariad,” she said. “Sorry for disturbing you.”
Verney didn’t reply. He only waited to hear what else she had to say.
She took a breath. “There’s been an attack out by the lake—”
“I heard about it,” Verney said, shoving his hands in his pockets and tilting his head.
“I want to go out there, only… ”
“Only you need a flitter.”
Cariad gave a small nod.
Verney looked her up and down. “Think you can help?”
“I want to, if I can.”
“From what I heard, they were dragged into the lake a while ago. I don’t see what’s to be done about it now.”
“Still… ”
Verney paused another moment before saying, “Ah well. It won’t hurt. Have you flown a flitter before?”
“Er, no.” It was a problem she hadn’t considered.
“In that case, you’re not taking one out by yourself at night.”
Cariad thought Verney meant to take back his agreement, but he came outside and closed his door. “Come on.” He walked the short distance to the flitter shed and opened the security lock. “I’ll take you.”
Cariad rushed over and into the shed, where Verney was turning on the lights. He opened a flitter door and told her to get in before walking around the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat. After starting the drive and maneuvering the vehicle out into the street, he hopped out for a moment in order to return to the shed and lock it.
Soon, they were at the gate in the electrified fence that surrounded the settlement. Cariad saw men and women with long poles walking along the interior of the fence.
“What are those people doing?” she asked as they passed through the gate.
“Looking for dead sluglimpets,” Verney replied.
“Really? Why? Oh wait, I know. They push off the corpses, don’t they?”
“That’s right.”
During the First Night Attack, after their first attack had been repulsed, the sluglimpets had climbed on the dead bodies of others to scale the electric fence and the settlers had suffered a second attack.
That terrible night had only occurred a few months previously, but to Cariad it felt like the distant past. She’d forgotten that the people living planetside constantly endured the risk of a repeat invasion of predators.
Verney was flying the flitter down the road that led to the farms. He kept his gaze on the dark surface, broken at widely spaced but regular intervals by round glowing patches from the sparse street lights. He didn’t seem inclined to talk.
The road surface was smooth and plain, lacking lines to segment traffic as had been usual on Earth. Cariad could hardly believe that one day the road might require such lines, and have signs and junctions leading to other roads. She hoped that day would come.
“Have you been out this way before?” Cariad asked, finding the silence awkward.
“Nope.”
Cariad glanced at the man’s profile, almost a silhouette in the scant light. Ah well, she thought, if he doesn’t want to talk, I won’t make him. She had the impression that Verney considered he was already granting her enough of a concession by agreeing to chauffeur her out to the lake, and that engaging in small talk with a Woken would be a step too far.
They passed through the fence that protected the farming district from sluglimpets. The area it encompassed was much larger than the settlement. Cariad imagined it would be a time-consuming job to patrol it.
A knot of seven or eight figures stood by the lake, outside a similar enclosing fence, though Cariad didn’t think this one was electrified. It was there to prevent unwary colonists from straying too close to the dangerous waters, not to deter the aquatic predators. As far as she was aware, none had ever been observed to leave the lake. Cariad wondered if that was what had happened. Had an animal from the lake come out after nightfall and climbed the fence?
Verney parked the flitter next to the group of women and men. Cariad recognized Osias’ wiry figure but she didn’t know the other Gens.
“Cariad. Verney,” Osias said gravely when they drew near the group. “Thanks for coming.”
“What’s been happening?” Cariad asked. “Have the people been found?” However, the answer to her question was already clear from the somber mood.
Osias sighed. “No. There’s been no sign of them.”
“What happened?”
“A toddler got away from her parents’ farmhouse and wandered down to the lake. When the girl’s father and mother realized she was missing, the dad went after her while her mother comm’d for help before following him. The kid’s dad had tracked the path she’d made across the fields.” He paused and pointed to the fence. “He caught up to her just as she made it under. She ran right over to the water and the thread creatures dragged her in. He climbed over the fence to go after her and the creatures took him too. The mother saw sense and waited for help, thank the stars.”
Cariad walked across the field toward the fence. “It’s safe on this side of it, right?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Yes,” Osias replied. “Do you want to see the place where the victims were dragged in?”
“Yes, I do.”
Osias followed her and they strode the short remaining distance through the crop field. At the edge of the field, the gap beneath the fence was plain to see even in the scant moonlight. It was a shallow depression that the bottom of the fence didn’t reach into. Nothing had worn away the ground. It had been awfully bad luck that the child had happened to go to that exact place while running from her father and that she’d fitted through it. She’d probably been attracted to the expanse of water beyond. The top of the fence was bent where the father had climbed over it.
The lake looked calm and peaceful with barely a ripple in the stillness of the night.
“Where’s the mother?” Cariad asked.
“She was so distraught, I asked one of her neighbors to take her to the hospital.”
Cariad’s heart ached for the poor woman. The child must have been one of the very first conceived when the natural reproduction prohibition was lifted on board the Nova Fortuna. Cariad couldn’t imagine how it might feel to lose both your child and your husband at the same time.
“There’s no hope they’re still alive,” Osias said, also looking out over the water. “Otherwise we might have tried to get them back. As it is, I don’t think there’s anything we can do except check the fence for gaps and fix them.”
“Can’t you electrify it?” Cariad asked.
Osias replied, “We’re already using every spare generator we have keeping the fence around the farming district supplied to ward off sluglimpets. We’re under relentless pressure of attempted attacks.”
Cariad peered at the sand where the child and her father had been dragged into the water. As well as signs of scuffling, there were long, whip-like trails cut into the surface. She gave a shiver. Whatever had taken the little girl and her father, it had been large and its reach had stretched nearly to the line of the fence.
“You know,” she said, “whatever’s in the lake, it might help to get more information about them. Do you know if any xenobiologists have been down from the ship to investigate it? I don’t mean today. I mean generally.”
“I don’t,” Osias replied. He turned toward the group of farmers, who were discussing the attack with Verney. “Hey,” he called, “Have any Woken been down to check out the lake?”
“Not that I know of,” a farmer replied. Her companions agreed. “I don’t think any Woken have been here to look for wildlife since they cleared the area for farming.”
“The best protection would be to eradicate the creatures entirely,” Cariad said. It wasn’t the ideal solution in terms of the Mandate, however. A central idea of the Nova Fortuna Project was to avoid ruining the planet’s environment in the way that Earth’s had been ruined. Yet when it came to the colony’s survival, they had to do whatever it took. “I think we should scan the lake,” she said. “See what’s down there. If there are only a few of these creatures, maybe we could catch them and move them to another area. What do you think?”
“Maybe,” Osias said, “though I’m not sure that would help over the long term. Maybe they lay eggs and they’ll hatch out some time in the future. But it would certainly make the place safer for now.”
“Okay,” Cariad said. “I’ll comm the ship and ask if anyone has a portable scanner they can send down.”
When they discussed the idea with the farmers, they agreed with the proposal. Soon afterward, Verney took Cariad and Osias back to the settlement in the flitter.
“The last shuttle must have left long ago,” Osias said. “Where are you staying tonight?”
“Actually, I don’t know,” Cariad said. It had slipped her mind that the temporary shelters for colonists had been dismantled now that most of the permanent homes had been built.
“I have spare rooms at the Leader’s Residence. You’re very welcome to stay there.”
“I will, thanks. That’s kind of you.”
“Feel free to stay as often as you like and use whatever rooms are available. I think it would do the colony good to have the Woken spending more time down here.”
“I agree,” Cariad replied. “I’ll do that.” Osias was right that a Woken living in the settlement would help reduce divisions in the society. Also, while she conducted her investigation into the Natural Movement saboteurs, she would be spending plenty of time planetside. It would be more convenient if she didn’t have to return to the ship every evening.
“How are you finding life as Leader?” Cariad asked.
Osias rolled his eyes. “I think maybe I bit off more than I can chew.”
“Really? I think you’re doing a great job.”
“Thanks. That’s kind of you to say. It’s going to take time to fix all the damage that’s been done, physical and otherwise, but we’ll get there. It helps that right now everyone’s so busy trying to get everything working, we don’t have time to complain and fret.”
“It must be hard to stay on track when you’re so down on numbers,” Cariad said.
“That’s right, and that’s apart from the psychological shock so many Gens are struggling to overcome.”
They didn’t speak much more as Cariad was preoccupied with thoughts of the day’s tragedy and the fact that two more precious lives were lost from the colony.
Chapter Ten
Ethan scrambled backward on all fours. Severed ends of threads lay on the beach, feebly writhing and squirming in their death throes. The living parts had retreated into the water and no more were slithering out to clutch at him. He was clutching his weapon so tightly the stock dug into his ribs, but he barely registered the pain.
As he regained some control, Ethan eased farther from the water, pushing between the roots of plants. Then a thought hit. Sluglimpets. He sprang to his feet, his pulse racing once more. The vegetation was full of shadows but he couldn’t detect any movement. He hoped the digesting predators didn’t inhabit that region.
He couldn’t risk returning to the water’s edge, but he had to drink. The few mouthfuls of water he’d managed to scoop out hadn’t done much to slake his thirst. There was no point in continuing his journey, trying to get as far as he could without water. He would never make it back to the settlement, and probably not even as far as the foothills of the mountains.
Ethan turned the problem over in his mind. Somehow, he had to get the water from the river without approaching it ,but the task seemed impossible. All he had were his weapon, clothes, and boots. He had no utensils of any kind though his boots would hold water. Parched as he was, the idea of drinking from them didn’t seem unappealing. If he could get one into the water and retrieve it, it might hold water long enough to reach him. But what could he tie to a boot so he could pull it back? And what if one of the threads took it?
The prospect of walking a great distance with only one boot daunted him. Sweeping his gaze over the vegetation, wary of sluglimpets, Ethan tried to decide whether to take the risk. While he might manage to walk barefoot on the river sand, footwear would be essential to cross the mountains.
No. It would be better to wait until he was nearly dying of thirst before risking the loss of a boot. What about other items of his clothing? Ethan looked down at his shirt sleeves and had an idea. He took off his shirt.
He edged a little closer to the water. Holding the end of one sleeve, he cast his shirt forward. It hit dry sand. He pulled the shirt back, shook the sand out of it, and tried again. The second time he timed it so that the shirt sleeve caught an approaching wash of water. For a few moments the sleeve soaked up precious fluid. Ethan pulled it back, flicking it upward to try to avoid picking up sand.
He wasn’t very successful. The cuff of the shirt was coated in fine grains when he lifted it to his mouth, but it was also wet and heavy with water. He sucked at the liquid, ignoring the grainy powder he also took into his mouth. As he drew in the water, his gaze was focused on the river. There was no sign of the threads.
His idea seemed to work. Ethan performed his trick several times. While he slaked his thirst, Ethan also kept a lookout on the ground around him, wary of the approach of sluglimpets. His luck seemed to have changed for the better in that regard too. There was no sign of their low, flat carapaces pushing through the plant growth.
Whatever happened, he guessed he wouldn’t die of thirst, or at least not while he walked alongside the river.
When his disgust at the sandiness of the water overcame his thirst, Ethan put on his shirt and continued tramping along the riverbank, out of reach of any threads that might venture from it. He settled into a steady pace he hoped to be able to maintain all night, which would bring the now-dark mountains significantly closer by the time morning came. To give himself something to occupy his mind, Ethan tried to remember more popular songs from his days aboard the ship. The catchy Arrival Day song was hard to shake from his mind at first, but then he remembered a female solo singer who went by the
stage name Quasar.
Ethan had been about eleven or twelve when he’d first watched Quasar sing, and she was the first woman he’d ever crushed on. At that time Lauren had been his age and he didn’t think of her as anything more than a very good friend. Quasar, on the other hand, had awakened deeper, confusing feelings in him.
He recalled the song she’d been singing the first time he saw her. It was called Time.
I see the seconds tick away
In your eyes
In your eyes
Minutes pass
And I come no closer
To understanding you
Should I wait for you?
For how long?
For how long?
A lifetime?
The Countdown draws closer
But you draw no closer to me
Come with me to the Observatory
For a while
For a while
Star watching
Doesn’t take long
It takes forever
Time leaves us behind
It won’t wait
It won’t wait
An eternity
But I’ll wait for you
I’ll wait forever
Ethan smiled sadly. Quasar had been about eighteen when she’d been popular as a singer. When she grew older she gave up stage performances and concentrated on her job as a ship’s engineer. He recalled that she died during the First Night Attack.
So many lives had been lost since Arrival. Ethan had left the settlement before the final tally of deaths in the caves disaster had been released, but he guessed the colony had lost more than three hundred men, women, and children. He hoped Cariad could bring the population up to a sustainable level. He also hoped that his own demise wouldn’t add another to the count.
Ethan’s thoughts ranged wider, drifting again to the shipboard days.
***
During one of his many chats with Dr. Crowley, she had explained to Ethan the importance of the diversity of the colony’s gene pool and why the Gens couldn’t replenish their numbers naturally over the course of the long voyage.