by J. J. Green
The threads’ appearance really did resemble the patterning on the walls of the chamber, Ethan confirmed as he drew nearer to them. The first time he’d seen them had been when they had tried to catch Cherry at the lake, but he’d been too distracted then in his effort to save his friend to take in many details about how they looked. The same was true of the occasions they’d attacked him, but now he could study them he could see their tentacle-like limbs were intricately patterned in many shades of black and gray.
The patterning was easiest to see when they briefly pressed their limbs against the transparent wall. As they moved away they became less distinct due to the muddiness of the water. There didn’t seem to be any rhythm or order to their movements.
More time dragged past as Ethan gazed at the threads, their whirling almost hypnotizing him. The wall was close enough for him to reach out and touch it. He found he’d grown less appalled by the sight of the creatures. He lifted a hand. It wouldn’t hurt to touch his side of the clear wall. He placed the tip of his index finger against the cool surface. Instantly, the agitation in the threads redoubled. They wriggled almost too quickly to observe as if in response to his gesture.
Ethan snatched away his hand, alarmed by the reaction of the threads. But it was too late. A whirring sound started up overhead. He’d triggered something.
He watched the ceiling, squinting against the light. The surface was vibrating very slightly. Were the threads opening the airlock? Were they coming in to get him? Ethan balled his hands into fists. Whatever they planned on doing to him he would fight them to the last breath in his body.
A section of the roof lifted and began to slide to one side. Water poured through it for a moment, adding another centimeter to the layer in the chamber. Then something else appeared. Not wriggling threads, but something bulky and dark. The thing fell and hit the floor, splashing into the water and bursting apart. Ethan stared at the object in growing recognition, and overhead the whirring began again.
The hatch in the ceiling was closing. At the last second, Ethan realized the chance he had. He leapt onto the sodden mess that had been pushed into the chamber and reached up to the closing hole in the ceiling. But he sank into the soft, black object, and his ankle gave way. He couldn’t reach high enough. His grasping fingers met nothing but air.
The hatch closed and Ethan fell. He sprawled on top of the threads’ delivery. It had taken him a moment, but he had recognized it eventually. The lump was his food sack from the flitter, drenched and beginning to rot. He rolled off of it. Tugging the sack open, he reached inside and drew out a package. The contents were soaked in muddy river water and entirely spoiled and inedible.
As Ethan gazed forlornly at the wet, disintegrating mess, he came to a better understanding of the threads. They knew that he and the flitter were connected, and they perhaps guessed that what they had given him was his food. Were they intending to keep him alive and confined for a long time?
Chapter Nineteen
After leaving the problem of the intelligent thread creatures in the lake with Vasquez and Kes—promising to meet up with Kes the following day—Cariad grabbed a take-away dinner from the refectory and went to her cabin, tired and sleepy. She’d been finding it hard to sleep in the strange room at the Leader’s residence, partly because she was planetside. She’d gotten used to sleeping aboard ship. The faint vibration of the ship’s engines was soothing.
Cariad comm’d Osias to update him on what Vasquez had said, then she ate her food. The next thing she did was check the position of Ethan’s flitter signal. Checking the satellite report had become like an itch she had to scratch. Each time she looked it up, she hoped to see that the flitter had moved. Each time she’d been disappointed.
That night, however, she saw something worse than no movement. She saw something she hadn’t imagined could happen. The signal was gone.
It wasn’t possible. The devices that emitted the signals were virtually indestructible. They were intended to be used to locate the vehicles in case of an accident and were built to withstand extreme impacts, fire, immersion in deep water, and other extreme stresses. What could have happened to cause the signal to disappear? Cariad checked the report and checked it again. She requested a second report, this time encompassing all of Concordia. Ethan’s flitter signal had entirely disappeared from the planet.
No matter how hard she searched or stared at the screen, the result was the same. She no longer knew where Ethan was or even if he was still alive. She felt like she should tell someone, but who could she tell? Concordia had no rescue services. The colony wasn’t far from being in need of rescue itself. Ethan’s expedition had been a personal choice, taken in full knowledge of the incredible risks involved.
Also, he hadn’t asked permission to leave. At the time there hadn’t been anyone for him to ask. Anahi had stepped down as Leader and a replacement hadn’t been elected. And Ethan had taken a flitter for his own long-term use, which was technically illegal. The flitters belonged to the colony. They weren’t for anyone to use as they wanted.
The settlement had been in such a state of upheaval after the flood at the caves, with the Guardians withdrawing and relations between the Gens and Woken in flux, Ethan had simply made his decision to check for survivors and then embark on a longer expedition, and slipped away.
If Cariad raised a hue and cry about the missing flitter signal, what would happen? Traveling into the wilds of Concordia, even as a group, was risky, and the colony numbers were already dangerously low. They couldn’t afford to lose more people. She had a strong suspicion that Osias would forbid anyone to leave and try to find Ethan.
She was torn. She wanted to head out to the site of the last signal from the flitter, but should she? She was needed at the colony. Cassie and Florian were able assistants, but she wasn’t sure they could manage the complexity of the DNA matching required to maintain the health of the settlement’s gene pool. And she was heading up the Natural Movement investigation.
There was also the question of what she might find at the place where Ethan’s flitter had disappeared. Whatever had happened to the vehicle had to be serious. What if the same thing happened to her flitter too?
Cariad wasn’t the adventurous type. Her decision to participate in humanity’s first deep space colony had been out of her usual character. The idea of traveling to wild, remote regions of Concordia scared her. She didn’t have the skills to survive a night outdoors, let alone being stranded in the wilderness. Yet she couldn’t ask anyone to accompany her if she did go. There were plenty who would—Ethan was universally liked—but it wouldn’t be fair to risk even more lives to try to help him.
By the time a new day had begun aboard the Nova Fortuna, Cariad had hardly slept and was exhausted with worry. Each minute that passed felt like another minute lost that might have saved Ethan’s life. What if he was hanging on somewhere, desperately hoping someone would arrive to help him? Cariad was haunted with images of finding his body minutes too late.
Yet she couldn’t just up and leave, flying out alone into the back of beyond, could she?
Cariad hurried to the refectory. At that time in Nova Fortuna’s ship’s schedule, her assistants should have been eating breakfast. If she was going to make a rescue attempt, she would need to brief Cassie and Florian before she left.
Her gaze roamed the tables. Ever since the majority of the Gens had gone planetside after Arrival, the refectory had been much emptier and quieter, but Cariad couldn’t see either of her techs eating breakfast. Maybe they’d gone to work early.
***
Cassie and Florian were in the lab, though they hadn’t started work. Cassie was sitting on a stool and Florian was standing over her, showing her something on an interface. Cassie was laughing. She looked up as Cariad entered the room and Florian whipped the interface away guiltily.
“Hey,” Cariad said, “it’s fine. I’m not here to reprimand you. It isn’t even time to begin work yet. What were you looking at?”<
br />
“Oh, it’s kind of stupid,” said Florian. “I just put together a vid of animals for Cassie.”
“It’s so funny,” Cassie said. “He made subtitles for what they’re saying to each other. Do you want to see it?”
“Another time maybe,” said Cariad. “I’m here to tell you I have to go away again for a little while.”
“What?” said Florian. “You say that like you’ve actually spent some time here.”
“I know,” Cariad said. “I’m really sorry.”
“Where are you going?” Cassie asked.
“I can’t say. I don’t think I should be doing what I’m about to do. I want to ask you a favor. Could you cover for me?”
“Now I’m really intrigued,” Florian said. “Are you going to let us in on the secret?”
“I would if it didn’t mean I could be getting you into trouble. If this turns out badly, I don’t want the blame to shift onto you two.”
“This is like a drama vid,” Cassie exclaimed. “It sounds so exciting. Can we come too?”
“No,” Cariad replied. “Absolutely not. It took me all night to decide to go myself. And now that I have decided, I wish I’d left earlier. So I really have to go now. But if anyone comes around asking for me, could you act like I’ve just popped out and you don’t know where I am?”
“Well the second part of that will be true,” Florian said. “What do you think, Cassie? Should we lie for the boss?”
“I’m willing if you are,” she replied, looking up at him.
Did she bat her eyelashes at him? Cariad had a feeling that Cassie and Florian would enjoy their time working together without her around.
“Go ahead, Cariad,” Florian said. “Go deal with your clandestine intrigue. We’ll cover your ass.”
“Thanks,” said Cariad. “I shouldn’t be gone more than a day or two.”
She walked quickly to her cabin. Though she was worried about Ethan, she was pleased about the romance between her techs. Relationships between the Gens and Woken were exactly what the colony needed. A generation of children from such pairings would do a lot to break down the barriers that had sprung up between the two sides.
In her room, Cariad checked the satellite signal once more, hoping that it might have returned, but there was still no sign of it. It had definitely disappeared. She pushed a warm jacket and a change of clothes into a bag. She had no idea what to take on such a journey. She didn’t think Ethan had taken much more with him than food and water. But she didn’t have the access to the supplies that he had. Aside from the regular meals provided at the refectory, only snacks were available aboard ship. She couldn’t walk into the ship’s stores and demand a week’s supply of food. Even if the purser allowed the request, it would raise so many questions that someone in power might hear of her plan and prevent her from leaving. And as a Woken she had no access to the storerooms at the settlement. A request there would seem even stranger.
She would have to gather what snacks she could and hope that she could find Ethan. He had a good supply of food. Then again, his supply would be on the flitter, and the flitter had gone missing, so… Cariad shook her head. She would have to cross those bridges when she came to them.
She took a transit to the shuttle bay, where she boarded the next shuttle going planetside. She traveled to the surface regularly so her journey passed without attracting any attention. Her biggest obstacle was yet to be conquered—borrowing a flitter.
All the way to Verney’s shed, Cariad tried to think of a logical reason why she might need to borrow one of the valuable vehicles. She couldn’t think up a single one. She wasn’t one of the scientists like Rene or Anahi who needed to go out into the surrounding fields to sample soil or crops. She wasn’t a Gen farmer who lived outside the settlement. Neither was she a mechanic who might have to fix a broken down roadmaker.
As she approached Verney, her mind was a blank. He looked up at her curiously from his desk just inside the shed doors.
“I need a flitter,” Cariad blurted, feeling hopeless.
Verney looked down at his interface screen. “I don’t have any bookings for this morning.” He looked at her expectantly, folding his hands on his lap and cocking his head.
“I didn’t book one,” said Cariad. “I… ” She sighed. What choice did she have other than to come clean? “Ethan’s gone missing. I want to try to find him.”
Verney sat up. “Ethan’s missing? Since when? I didn’t hear anything about it.”
“He went to do some exploring days ago. He has a flitter—”
“I know he has. I was waiting for him to bring it back. No wonder he hasn’t been answering my messages. Where’s he gone?”
“Deep into the continent. Alone. He took supplies along with him and didn’t know when he would return.”
“Well that isn’t strictly allowed, you know.”
“I know. But that’s what he’s done. I was tracking his flitter signal from the satellite feed but it’s disappeared. I want to go after him.”
“Well… ” Verney rubbed his bald head. “I don’t think I have the authority—”
“Neither do I,” said Cariad. “And please don’t try to get permission because I’m pretty sure the answer will be no. Neither the Leader nor anyone else who might permit the flitter use will agree to send another vehicle out when one has already been lost. But I have to try to find Ethan. I have to. Please, can you help me?”
Verney considered a moment before standing up. “You can take one. After everything Ethan’s done for this colony, he doesn’t deserve to be abandoned when he needs our help. There’s some who would say that one of these vehicles is more important than a human life. I don’t agree.”
“Thank you,” said Cariad. “Thank you so much.”
“I’ll have to make something up to put in the record,” Verney went on. “But I have an idea. Wait here. I’ll have to lock the shed, but I’ll be back soon.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He went out and closed the wide shed doors, leaving Cariad alone under artificial light with the flitters, which filled half the bays. Had Verney been lying? Had he trapped her in there in order to have her arrested?
No. She was being ridiculous. There wasn’t any need to lock her up just for trying to take a flitter. Her apprehension about her upcoming journey was making her jittery.
The shed doors opened, flooding the interior with sunlight. Cariad exhaled in relief as Verney entered alone. He was carrying a weapon. “I borrowed this for you from a farmer friend who I knew was in town. If you’re going out alone into the wild, you’ll need it.”
“Thanks,” Cariad said, taking the gun from him awkwardly. She had no idea how to fire it, but she would have time to figure that out on the long journey to Ethan’s last known position.
Verney went over to the nearest flitter and unlocked it. Cariad joined him and climbed inside.
“They aren’t hard to operate,” Verney said. He showed her the controls. “The screen defaults to a local map and the flitter’s position on it. Link your interface with the flitter’s system here.”
“Okay.”
“They’re nearly impossible to crash, too. Just remember to activate the auto-leveling if you’re going over steep slopes, or the vehicle will tilt to follow the slope.”
“Right,” said Cariad. “I’ve got it.” Now that the obstacle of obtaining a flitter had been overcome, she was eager to leave.
Verney stepped back. “She’s all yours. I hope you find him. If we lose Ethan, it’ll be a hard blow to the colony.”
“I know. Thanks again.” Cariad closed her door and started up the machine. She flew the flitter somewhat erratically out of the shed as she got used to the controls. On Earth, she’d made the effort to learn how to drive a car even though it was unnecessary, just for fun. Every motorized vehicle had been connected to a network that operated them safely and appropriately according to the traffic conditions. It was only preppers living off-grid far from ci
vilized areas who needed to know how to drive cars. Cariad wondered how those survivalists had fared when their desires and fears had come true.
Once she was through the gates in the electric fence, she slid her interface into the slot on the flitter’s control panel and uploaded the location of the last signal from Ethan’s flitter. The spot was on the other side of a mountain range that cut diagonally across the center of the continent. A broad river swept away from the range and emptied into the ocean on the far coast. The dot that represented the most recent signal was right on the edge of the river.
Cariad input the position as the flitter’s destination. The estimated time to arrival was sixteen hours traveling at maximum speed. To Cariad, it seemed incredibly slow, but the flitters hadn’t been intended for long-distance travel. They were supposed to be used to traverse rough terrain around the first settlement. Faster modes of transport were expected to be built on site eventually, and the shuttles could be used until then at a pinch. Survival had been the priority, not jetting around the new world. If the colonists needed to move to another continent or perhaps one of the islands of the archipelago, they could always return everything to their ship and reposition the Nova Fortuna in orbit.
Cariad watched the terrain as it went past agonizingly slowly. The dot on the map didn’t seem to be getting any closer. She wondered what had happened to Ethan’s flitter. Had he crashed into the river? That didn’t seem likely after what Verney had said. And though water in the system might wipe out the flitter’s circuits, it didn’t explain what had happened to the vehicle’s transmitter.
The thought of never seeing Ethan again tugged at Cariad’s heart. She’d been worried about him when he set off on his journey, but she hadn’t believed that she would never see him again. It just hadn’t seemed possible. Now, the impossible appeared to be turning into a reality.