by J. J. Green
“Exactly,” said Cassie. “There’s no point in risking the babies’ lives on the remote chance of something bad happening. You know the system’s so old now it needs regular checks. We can’t do that from the surface.”
“Besides,” Florian said, “someone has to keep Geisen company.”
“She’s decided to stay too?” Cariad asked.
“Well,” replied Floran, “if we are attacked the Nova Fortuna will need its pilot, and to be honest I think Geisen sees herself as more like the captain of the ship.”
“Great,” Cariad said sarcastically, though she could see the sense in the pilot’s decision. With no one at the helm, the colony ship really would be the sitting duck Aubriot had stated. “I hope you’re right that this is all a false alarm. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to either of you. And so much of our essential equipment is up there. If anything does happen to the ship, the colony’s sunk.”
“Honestly, nothing’s going to happen,” Cassie said. “I’m sure of it. By the way, what’s going on with Dr. Montfort? The rumor is, two Gens arrived and arrested him. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is. The settlement has two compliance enforcement officers now—”
“We have cops?” interrupted Florian, incredulous.
“Yes, I guess that’s what they are,” replied Cariad.
“Is this something to do with you wanting to speak to Alasdair without Dr. Montfort knowing about it?” Cassie asked.
“Yes, it is to do with that. I’ll tell you both all about it when I can but we have more pressing issues to deal with at the moment. I can’t force you to evacuate, but would you please reconsider your decision to stay on the ship? I don’t want to lose those babies either, but you’re more important. If the worst happens I’ll lose the babies and two people I care about very much.”
“Awww,” Cassie said. “We love you too, Cariad. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. But you take care down there, won’t you? Stay away from those horrible sluglimpets.”
“I will.” Cariad closed the comm.
She was spending the night in her borrowed bedroom at the Leader’s residence, tired and sore after a day spent helping to dig the tunnels and bomb shelters. The speed and efficiency with which the colonists worked had impressed her deeply. When they had a job to do, the Gens were resourceful and relentless, and they had no shortage of the engineering and building skills required for the project. Still, they were going to be hard pushed to complete the underground structures within the timeframe, even though they were only creating nothing more complex than hollowed-out spaces several meters below ground. Cariad sincerely hoped that her techs were right and the enormous effort was unneeded.
Work was going on around the clock and Cariad had eight hours in which to rest and sleep before her next shift began. Yet she knew sleep would not come easily to her. Though she accepted Florian and Cassie’s decision she was extremely worried about them. And another concern plagued her. No decision had been made about the Guardians. Should they wake them up?
In the holo from Earth, Mina had said the androids would protect the colony at all costs, but the Guardians’ behavior had shown how dangerously this imperative played out in reality. The Guardians could be ruthless if they thought someone threatened the colony’s success. Could they be trusted to only act against alien attackers? What might happen if they thought a colonist made a bad tactical decision during a battle? Would they try to remove that person from the scene of action, and how would they go about doing it?
A major point to consider was the fact that Aubriot was now aboard the Mistral. He was working with Addleson to optimize the ship’s defensive capabilities. The Guardians had judged Aubriot to be a threat previously, would they come to the same conclusion the second time around?
Cariad realized that she hadn’t watched the final part of the holo made by the Guardians’ creators. Perhaps that might hold the answer to her dilemma. She had copied her personal files to the settlement’s system the last time she’d been planetside, so it was simple to start up the holo at the point where she’d paused it.
Steen appeared above the display unit. Cariad had forgotten that Mina had handed over to him at that point in the holo. The young man seemed to have calmed down somewhat, however. Cariad hoped he would manage to refrain from ranting for this last section of the recording.
“There isn’t a lot more to tell you,” the young man said, a look of defeat in his eyes. “The specs for the ship and the androids are in the database. This holo is more about us speaking to you face to face, I guess. We wanted to explain what we’d done and why, just so that you’d understand.” He paused and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I have no idea who I’m speaking to right now or even if this holo will ever be played. Maybe we got something wrong and the Mistral won’t make it to its destination. Or the Natural Movement succeeded in destroying the Nova Fortuna en route. Maybe this whole thing is an utter waste of everyone’s time. But in case someone does watch this, I want to say, we’re both human, right? We have that connection. And that’s what our effort has been about. For us, our life’s work is over. Once the Mistral departs, we’ll have to find another reason to exist. It will all be on you. I hope you manage to keep the flame alive. We tried our best to help you.
“Maybe one day, your far-off descendants will manage to reach the same pinnacle of scientific achievement we reached when, under the most adverse of conditions, we built our rescue ship and our rescuers. I hope so. I’ll never know, but I hope one day this will all have been worth it.”
Steen gazed into the camera. It was like he was in the room looking right at Cariad, though in reality he was probably long dead.
“Good luck,” he said.
The holo ended. Steen disappeared and Cariad was alone once more. That was it. She had watched the entire thing, but it had left her with nothing except a feeling of emptiness.
One day, she might have the leisure to ponder Steen and Mina’s words. But right then she could only wish that she’d learned something that would tell her if they should reactivate the Guardians.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
A man with a thick beard was looking into Ethan’s eyes. Ethan sat bolt upright, knocking the man out of the way. Then the pain from his leg hit. He roared. He grabbed his foot but it wasn’t there. It was gone. His eyes popping, Ethan found himself staring at a stump that ended half way down his lower leg. His foot had been amputated.
“Wh… Wh…,” he gasped. “Stars, where’s my foot? Where’s my foot? What have they done to me?”
A voice to one side said, “I-I’m sorry. That’s how you were when you arrived.”
It was the bearded man. He’d scooted away from Ethan and was sitting scrunched up, hugging his legs in the corner of the chamber.
Ethan swung around, taking in his surroundings He was still in the threads’ prison. Except he wasn’t. This one was smaller, and… Ethan stared. A little girl was standing in the same corner as the man, her back pressed against the wall. She was rigid with fear.
“Sorry,” Ethan breathed. “I’m so sorry.” He lifted a hand toward the girl but she shrank in response to the gesture. “I won’t hurt you. Ahhhh… my leg.” Ethan subsided into silence, lost in the aching throb emanating from his severed limb.
The threads had cut off part of his lower leg. That was what why they’d entered his chamber. That was the pain he’d felt before he blacked out. His foot was gone forever. Blinking back tears of agony and shock, Ethan stared at his stump. The skin was pink and tender where it had been pulled over the wound. The edges of the cut were stuck tightly together though he couldn’t see what was holding them in place.
“It looks like a good job to me,” said the man.
“What?”
“Your operation,” the man replied. “If it’s any consolation, it looks like they did a good job. I’m sure the pain will ease with time. As it heals.”
Ethan could barely comprehend the man’s words. Wh
y had the threads cut off his leg? Had they known it was diseased? Had they been trying to save his life?
Who were this man and this girl the threads were also holding prisoner?
“You’re Ethan, aren’t you?” asked the man. “I recognize you.”
Ethan tried to ignore the pain he was suffering. “I am.” He studied the man. He looked familiar. Ethan tried to imagine him without his beard.
“You won’t know me,” the man said. “I’m just a farmer. Name’s Rudra. And this is my daughter Ganika.” He pulled the girl into his arms.
“Ganika,” Ethan said, grimacing against the pain. “I’m sorry I frightened you.”
“Don’t worry,” said Rudra. “She’s a tough little thing. She’s been through a lot and she’s survived. Haven’t you, sweetie?”
The little girl had buried her face in her father’s neck. She gave Ethan a shy look then turned away from him again.
As well as Rudra and Ganika, Ethan noticed a third thing in this new chamber. Next to him lay a transparent, hollow, cocoon-shaped object. It had a slit down the center which was open. Ethan touched the strange receptacle. The material it was made from was like jelly but also resistant and smooth.
“That’s what you arrived in,” Rudra said.
“I was inside this?”
“I got you out a few minutes ago, before you woke up.”
Ethan ran a hand along the outer surface of the receptacle. It was wet. He’d traveled through water. The threads had brought him here through waterways to be with the other humans they’d captured.
A realization hit. Two more. That was what Quinn had been trying to tell him—the threads had two more people in captivity, like him. Had Quinn been trying to say the threads wanted to take him to the others of his kind?
“I do remember you,” Ethan said to Rudra as images from the past popped into his mind. “You were at the farmers’ dorms during the first weeks of the settlement.”
“That’s right. I was there waiting for my allotment and for my wife to join me with Ganika. After that I was too busy working on my farm to see much of other people except my little family.”
“How did you and your daughter end up here?” Ethan asked. “What happened to you? Wait. Are we in the lake in the farming district?”
“Yes.” Rudra went on to tell Ethan that little Ganika had strayed too close to the lake shore and that the threads had captured her, and then they’d captured him when he’d tried to rescue his daughter.
The effects of his amputation made it hard for Ethan to concentrate, but from what he could understand, Rudra and Ganika had been confined in their chamber for weeks, probably longer than Ethan had himself.
Rudra explained that they’d survived eating raw vegetable roots that the threads had gathered from the fields for them and drinking water that was squirted inside at regular intervals. As had happened with Ethan’s chamber, the threads cleaned it by flooding the floor then draining the water away.
“You don’t have a transparent wall?” asked Ethan, noticing for the first time that all the walls were opaque.
“No,” Rudra replied. “So you were in a cell like this one but yours had a clear wall?”
Now it was Ethan’s turn to explain. As he told his story, he reflected that it was a good thing that the threads hadn’t elected to reveal themselves to Rudra and his daughter. The little girl would have been utterly terrified.
When Ethan reached that part of his narrative where he’d cut open a wall in his chamber with the Guardians’ weapon, Rudra’s eyes lit up. “You managed to escape?”
“Yes, but the threads recaptured me immediately. I don’t remember how exactly, but I ended up right back where I’d started. My leg had grown so painful by then I was barely aware of what was happening.”
“It looks like the creatures solved that problem for you,” said Rudra.
Ethan regarded his stump once more. Though it was incredibly painful, Rudra was right. His grotesquely swollen foot and ankle were gone and only healthy flesh remained. His leg had been literally killing him and the threads had prevented it from completing the job.
They’d also apparently transferred him hundreds of kilometers from the river to the lake. How had they managed it?
“How did I get into your cell?” he asked Rudra.
“The floor dropped and you were pushed in. I could see you inside the sack and as soon as the water receded I pulled you out.”
Did an underground river or spring flow into the lake? Was that how the threads had brought him there? Ethan hadn’t really thought about it but the lake water had to come from somewhere.
“I wonder why they brought me here?” Ethan asked, half to himself.
“I’ve been wondering that too,” Rudra said. “They must want us all together for some reason. Or perhaps it’s only for tidiness.” He smiled wryly.
“It must have been hard for you,” said Ethan, “to be trapped here for so long with your daughter. How have you managed to carry on?”
“I’ve certainly had my dark moments. If I’d been alone, I might have tried to find a way to end it. But I couldn’t leave Ganika, and I could never bear to hurt her to take her with me. So I carried on because I had to. I didn’t have a choice. And with some imagination we’ve helped the time pass. I made this for Ganika.” Rudra pointed at a dried up object that his daughter was holding.
After a moment, Ethan saw that it was a root roughly fashioned into a doll. Ganika crushed the toy to her chest and kissed it, then she walked slowly over to Ethan and held it out to him.
“Thank you.” Ethan took the proffered gift. “What’s its name?”
“Her name’s Rooty,” Ganika replied.
“Rooty,” said Ethan. “Of course. It’s a very good name for a root.”
“She isn’t a root. She’s a little girl, like me.”
“Of course. I see that now. Ahhh… ” A fresh wave of pain washed over Ethan. He handed back the doll and closed his eyes.
When the pain had subsided and he could open his eyes again, Ganika was back with her father, sitting in his lap and playing with Rooty.
Ethan wondered if the threads intended for him to live out the rest of his days trapped in a small room with another man and his daughter. They clearly wanted to keep him alive for a reason. And they thought the attempt at communication was a failure because they’d placed him in a cell without a transparent wall.
With no possible means of escape, a life of captivity seemed inevitable. And what would happen when he and Rudra grew old or sick and died? Would Ganika be forced to endure decades by herself, with no memory of another kind of life and other people outside? The future for all of them seemed to tragic to contemplate.
A burst of noise came from somewhere. It was so loud, Ethan clamped his hands to his ears. He looked around, trying to find the source, but none was visible. He caught Rudra’s look of shared puzzlement. Ganika started crying.
The noise repeated. It was harsh and not like anything Ethan had ever heard before. Ganika was wailing and stamping her feet. Her father was trying to comfort her while not removing his hands from his ears.
Once more, an identical noise sounded, but this time it was a little quieter. This third iteration also sparked a tingle of familiarity in Ethan’s mind. When the fourth repetition sounded it was quieter still, though Ethan still didn’t risk removing his hands from his ears.
The fifth burst of noise decreased another notch in volume. Ethan dropped his hands. What was the pattern he was hearing in the sound?
“No,” Ganika shouted. She held up her doll to the ceiling. “Rooty says you’re very bad!”
On the sixth repetition Ethan heard it, and so did Rudra. Their gazes met, wide with shock.
Rudra said, “Is that—”
Another burst of sound. Except it wasn’t sound. It was words. They were so distorted they were almost unrecognizable, but at the same time Ethan thought he could just make them out. Something was saying, “Out. B
e careful.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Montfort’s eyes were hooded and he didn’t return Cariad’s look as he was escorted toward her in the bunker. She saw that Mariko and Arden had finally found a justified use for their handcuffs.
Osias had given the order to construct a small cell within the shelter to hold the doctor. The man’s guilt hadn’t been clearly established but Osias had wanted to confine him until after the crisis of the arrival of the alien ship had passed.
But judging from the way that Montfort wouldn’t meet Cariad’s gaze, he was guilty as hell. She could hardly believe that this sullen, angry man and the doctor she’d worked with in reviving the cryonically suspended colonists, and who had helped her recover from her broken arm after the stadium bombing, were one and the same person.
Cariad walked into the comm room, which lay opposite the cell where Montfort was to be confined. The compliance enforcement officers put the doctor into the cell and locked the door. Cariad was relieved that she seemed to have uncovered at least one genuine Natural Movement terrorist and that Cherry had been set free as soon as Montfort had been arrested.
The bomb shelter consisted of a series of rooms, each of which held around forty people. The rooms were linked by tunnels that led from a main tunnel running down from an entrance within the electric fence of the settlement. Some Gen engineers had wanted to build more than one entrance, arguing that if it was destroyed, the entire population would be trapped.
But there had simply been no time. Instead, the Gens had stored digging equipment below ground so that they could dig their way out if their exit was blocked off. That would mean emerging into sluglimpet territory, but that couldn’t be helped. They would just have to avoid going out there at nighttime. Unfortunately, the alien ship was due to arrive that night.
The shelter rooms were stocked with food and water and lidded buckets for sanitation. It was the best that could be done in the time available. The engineers had prioritized reducing the risk of collapse and installing fans to supply air from the surface, though they could be shut down if the atmosphere outside grew too hot. Everything else was secondary. A simple comm system running on wires connected the bunkers to the surface and then to the Mistral and the Nova Fortuna.