by L. V. Lane
There was an inner airlock used for low atmosphere colonization, but it had a different benefit on Serenity since it was also watertight. The tent was compact with enough room for the two of us to stand—just—but there was a bed, a change of clothing, and some essential personal supplies.
“Recovery. Time.” As I studied the meager space, the fact I wasn’t demanding better only emphasized what was wrong. I’m not humble, and I never make do, but today, I will embrace both.
“Yes,” Riley agreed. “Your recovery will take time.”
Even if I could still predict, it would be hard to trust those predictions were predictions and not the false readings of someone who no longer had the skill. Landon would scrutinize anything I claimed to predict before acting upon it. With confirmed predictions, trust would come again, but that could take several months, possibly years, and I could see there were a great many more pressing problems to deal with in the interim.
There was nothing any of them could do to help me.
“Casualties?” My eyes lifted, and Riley’s face softened in response.
“Some. It could have been a lot worse.” The catastrophic ship malfunction was behind us now. They will blame Riley. She was still a Federation deserter and a Technologist in the eyes of many people here.
“Please, elaborate?” I wanted the details. I would normally demand the details, not politely ask.
“Not yet,” Riley said.
“I know about the ship. That it is gone.”
“That’s not common knowledge,” Riley said. “Landon has instructed those on the final transport not to disclose the details.”
It would get out eventually.
“You must put aside these concerns for now.” Riley smiled. “Concentrate on resting.”
“Rest? I don’t know how to rest.” My life prior to leaving for the colony had been full, the hours long, and the idea of a vacation or rest inconceivable. “What will I do?”
Riley wanted to look away, I could tell, although she maintained eye contact.
Trigger.
She was deceiving me on some level.
Riley said simply, “What the rest of us do.”
I shook my head in question although Riley offered nothing more.
It was clear Riley wrestled with conflict, and that she did not enjoy following whatever orders she had been given, whether they came from Landon or Shenson. The genetic level inhibitor that Landon admitted to implanting would be sure to sully Riley’s attempts to find a place within the community.
My heart ached with so much uncertainty, for myself, for Riley, and for everyone else. Our future remained uncertain. I would need to adjust to a new world, just like everyone else who had been thrown into this unexpected environment.
Tears welled in my eyes.
“In a time of crisis, there is no time or room for worry about the future or tomorrow. There is only the now and the immediate. We are still in emergency mode—still merely surviving.” Riley’s gentle hands drew me in for a hug. My first gut-wrenching sob was filled with cathartic promise; the second broke me apart. “Until then, we must simply do whatever needs to be done.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
60 Serenity-days later…
Landon
I STOOD AT the entrance to the cargo hold of the transport that had become my temporary operations center. Many Serenity days had elapsed since the dramatic landing on the day the Intrepid exploded. I had just returned from patrolling the camp boundary with Marik and his unit. It was hot and muggy, which made a pleasant change from the wet, hot, and muggy we had experienced a few minutes ago.
To my left was Eric, who was dry since he’d been on point in the operations center, and next to Eric was Marik, who was wet but not as wet as I was.
“We need to complete the expansion.” I fingered the collar of my shell armor. It was soaked and irritating the shit out of me. “We just scoped a potential site.”
“That’s why we took a massive detour.” Marik smirked. “There I was thinking you just enjoyed trekking in the rain.”
“Expansion?” Eric said. “I thought we established all the satellite sites?”
“We have a couple more to complete,” I said. The camp was still in a state of bedlam, and the necessity of expanding had exacerbated that. I swiped a hand through my wet hair, glad I kept it short. I did a double take when I noticed Marik’s idiot grin.
“That last one got you good!” Marik said. “Every time without fail!”
I had become convinced that a twisted divinity managed the weather on this planet. You couldn’t hear a damn thing during a downpour and the moment I flipped the visor open, a gust would slam a bucket of water through the crack. We’d had no communication since we landed. A problem that had defeated even Riley’s impressive technical skills.
“And many colonists are out of action with… digestive issues,” Eric continued while sending a ‘shut-up’ look Marik’s way.
“Digestive issues?” I asked confused.
“Yes, the medical team updated me earlier,” Eric said. “Throwing up the natural food. A couple of them have also contracted a local virus called influenza.”
“It’s a pre-foundation war illness,” Marik offered helpfully.
“Yes, I know what it is,” I replied. Irritated proportional to the dampness in my clothes. I could only wonder at Marik’s eclectic knowledge of such an obscure topic. “It was always a possibility—that’s why we have a geneticist with us. How many people are impacted?”
“Well, between those puking up good food and the virus, seventeen percent of us are out of action according to the medical team.”
“I’ve seen plenty of soldiers throwing up natural food the first time they eat. It’s psychological most of the time.” I rubbed my damp neck again. “None of this should interfere with work.”
“You haven’t seen them.” Eric grimaced. “Some of them are really messy… According to Brent, some of them have ‘delicate stomachs’. Whatever the hell that means. I’m with you, eating meat is unsettling at first. Eva won’t touch the stuff. As for the virus, apparently, it died out with no viable hosts, and over generations, our bodies stopped replicating the defense without our immune system being exposed to them. Brent said they should quickly recover and then be immune.”
“Brent is talking bullshit,” Marik chipped in. “He doesn’t have a clue, so he’s making shit up. Rachel said he was talking bullshit, and she’s the geneticist.”
“Bullshit?” Eric raised a disbelieving eyebrow at Marik. “That woman has more letters after her name than God. Are you sure she said that?”
“Not those exact words, no,” Marik said. “But she meant bullshit.”
“You’ve been trying to get into her sciencey tunic from before we even escaped Nammu,” Eric bit out. “That story just lost all credibility, even though I do think it sounds like Brent is talking bullshit… And you should quit now where Rachel is concerned. Landon has already been there and you’re going to get compared.”
I blinked a few times as I processed that minefield of revelations. Although it did explain Marik’s knowledge about influenza. I was quietly impressed by Marik’s dedication to his chosen cause.
Marik’s grin was pure smug. “Hey, I’ve never had complaints and I’m not afraid of a little competition. Besides, she’s a redhead and you know what they say about redheads.”
“That they have red hair?” Eric mused slowly.
“We’re getting off topic,” I said before Marik could derail us further. “And Brent is the furthest thing from a bullshitter in this camp and I don’t expect either of you to repeat that term in his context again. I agree with Rachel, though, and it doesn’t sound plausible to me, either… Delicate stomachs or not, we need to finish the expansion.”
“What did Arden have to say?” Eric asked.
“He believes the current base pattern should be able to sustain us for the remainder of the year,” I said. It was a fine line between t
he need for food and the safety risk of distributing too wide.
Eric gave me a skeptical look. “Our rations won’t stretch much further, and I’m not convinced there’s enough natural food in the area for so many people, even now that we’ve split. Most of the crashed transports contained military personnel, many of which had key engineering skills that we are now missing. We’re barely keeping order as it is.”
I nodded. Discovering we had lost so many military personnel in the crashed transports had been a significant blow for many reasons, and a little too coincidental for my liking. The missing transport had also been military with another three hundred on board that we must also assume to be dead. We were floundering, and I wished Eva was still a predictive because we could use some insights right about now. The psychologist responsible for her care had said Eva’s prognosis remained discouraging. “Arden has done some initial analysis, but you’re right, our military limitations are a worry. It’s not ideal, especially with the continuing animal attacks.”
“What about the city?” Marik asked, hope brightening his tone.
I shook my head. “Not yet.” I’d sent a team out there when we first arrived. The team had yet to return—I was beginning to fear they would not. I shared a glance with Eric. Exploring the city was an obvious step. If there was no news from the reconnaissance team soon, I would need to let the colonists know, lest someone get a notion to explore for themselves.
“Moving supplies is a pain when we didn’t get a single power-mover off the ship before it—” Marik stopped as he noticed Eric’s glare. “Yeah, power movers wouldn’t work in this mud anyway.”
“Lucky I have something else for you to do,” I said to Marik. “I need you to track down the missing team.”
“The ones who went to investigate the city?” Marik asked.
Eric gave me a look, but after a second, shrugged and nodded.
“Riley has details on the route they were supposed to take, and the safe limits of your search. Take a team with you.”
Marik hopped down off the ramp, sent a pained glance at the darkening sky, and shoved his shell helmet on. “Great timing.”
It was the young man’s only complaint. He flipped his visor down as the first splats of rain began to fall and took off for his task at a jog.
Around the camp, colonists scrambled for cover, abandoning tasks, tools, and anything they could not easily drag to a dry location in favor of saving themselves.
“I love the rain… said no Serenity colonist ever.” Eric grinned at his own joke.
“You have a sick sense of humor,” I muttered. “Raise the bloody ramp before the transport is flooded.”
We stepped back under the cover. Eric thumped the door closure as the splats took on a more aggressive thrum. By the time the laborious ramp had shut, the thrum had risen to a roar.
“Timing?” I called over to Lai, who was staring at her portable console, and which I was, with hindsight, delighted that she had requested extra time to collect.
“It’s early,” Lai said. “But under thirty percent variability for the first time. Riley has managed to link a few of the stations we have together. She thinks she might be able to hack into one of their satellites.”
“You dropped that in so casually,” Eric said.
She blushed and looked back at her data. “She mentioned something about being able to identify the transmission it sends to the city base.”
“And where is Riley?” I asked.
“She’s working on the communication issue over in the technical transport,” Lai said, a note of sadness in her voice. “She’s been working long hours, often alone. Oh, and Cathy was looking for you earlier. She said it was urgent.”
I nodded. “I’ll go and track them down.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Landon
IT WAS LATE and the rain had finally stopped when I booted everyone out of my office, or what had once been the flight deck of the transport in which I made my spectacular Serenity entry.
There was a tiny lizard sitting on the console to my left, its head tilted as its tongue flicked in and out before it darted away. The damn things got into everything. The loading doors wouldn’t shut after the crash and it was like a wildlife stampede. Yesterday, someone found a snake at the back of the cargo hold in the process of chowing down one of the fat, rat-like rodent things that infested the camp. I could have commandeered a better one, but there was something about this particular transport that felt oddly appropriate.
I sat back into the pilot’s chair, now my chair, and reflected that nothing about this colonization had gone to plan.
This was the last place I’d seen Eva, and every time I walked in, it presented me with a fresh kick in the gut, as if her predicament was my fault, and this constant reminder was the penance I must pay.
Cathy had just left after confessing her suspicions about what she believed Riley had done, and further, was still doing. While I didn’t buy into Cathy’s opinions on Riley, her report had prompted me to send for Riley. It was overdue that I talked with the Technologist about the events that led to us abandoning the ship.
The flight deck doors opened with a hiss, heralding Reeve’s arrival with Riley. “Make sure we aren’t disturbed,” I said.
Lifting her hand in acknowledgement, Reeve left.
Riley paused at the entrance, and then at my indication, made her way to sit in what would once have been the co-pilot’s seat. The flight deck was a shell now. The transport would never fly again, and teams had ripped out various useful parts over the weeks since we landed. Every time I walked in, it seemed another panel or plate had been removed. The room reminded me of an old abandoned station I’d visited once. Pillaged and raided, panels ripped off, and the discards strewn over every surface and floor.
Well, not quite everything, my chair was damn comfortable, and if anyone tried removing it, they would suffer my wrath.
“I wondered when we would have this meeting.” Riley’s slumped shoulders and red-rimmed eyes that spoke of nights without sufficient sleep.
“You haven’t suffered from the virus?” It surprised me that Riley had not succumbed to this influenza given she was the least genetically robust person on the planet.
“No, nothing… I’m just tired,” she offered, confirming my initial assessment. “I’ve yet to make any real headway on the communication problem.”
Yes, the lack of communication was causing significant operational headaches. The wrist plates worked in the immediate camp with a line of sight. The moment you left the camp and headed into the forest, they were all but useless.
“Did Eva say anything about this strange illness?” The predictive in her former glory would have been all over the anomaly.
Riley’s face gentled. “She’s not been herself since the ship.”
And wasn’t that the worst of this whole sorry mess? Our most prized person, the one in a million, billion, and through negligence, we’d left her mentally disabled. I wished I’d killed Brent for that, however useful he might be now.
I should have made the time to see her. Were she not impaired, I would have sought her out for her insights. Then there was that overshadow of the awkwardness between us. I’d be lying to myself if I said I’d never thought about fucking her over the desk or her wild response. I’d also be lying if I pretend her moving on so swiftly with Jax didn’t piss me off.
I told myself I was a Commander of an expedition and personal feelings were irrelevant in light of the bigger picture, and our many and varied problems.
It wasn’t only about the sex. That glimpse I had of the softer side of her when she’d nestled on my lap, and before the laws of chaos reached for us again, was a different, and more painful memory by far. I could almost taste what being with her might be like in all its glorious, messy, complex splendor.
She was broken now, and that broke me up as well. Jax was a good guy, one of the best. I was sure he was comforting her. And what did I offer her anyway?
I was a cold, emotionless bastard to most people. I got the job done no matter what—that was why they picked me to command.
There was nothing rational about the way I felt, and it scared the shit out of me that I suffered this personal conflict toward a woman who had given me permission once and only once. I was a variant. I didn’t talk about it, but I knew the rumors had followed me around. I wasn’t entirely human any more. Maybe that was why she’d gone back to Jax?
I was avoiding Eva.
A part of me wanted to continue wallowing in denial, as if by avoiding her, all my fears about us and about her broken predictive nature might not be true. Doctor Sull had been strangely gleeful in delivering the depressing update this morning.
“I haven’t seen much of her,” I said. I hadn’t seen her period, other than a tense conversation where I ordered her not to leave the camp vicinity. That had followed on from her burgeoning fixation with the chasm outcropping that was dangerous when it wasn’t raining, and suicidal when wet.
“Me neither. I’ve been so busy, and she spends a lot of time with Jax… when he’s here. She doesn’t engage me the way she once did. And she hasn’t once become peremptory.”
Stifling a smile at the ‘attitude’ bit, I reflected that on many occasions I’d wished Eva came with a little less ego. Her behavior was born of abilities, which were synonymous with who she was and therefore, her ego. I would take her high-handed ways over the insipidness that appeared to have invaded her according to the doctor. Riley’s words held a measure of grief and reading between the lines I found the word ordinary flashing like a gaudy neon sign.
Eva wasn’t ordinary. I couldn’t accept that she might be. Her fixation with Jax, at least, was nothing new, but everything else Riley had said, further her entire demeanor, implied the doctor’s prognosis for Eva was true.
But the former predictive was a problem for another time. “Let’s talk about the ship.”
“Yes, I figured Eva was the light opener.” Riley straightened in the seat. “I’ve spent too much time thinking about the ship and the events leading up to its abandonment. Time I should have spent dealing with where we are now. It’s hard to put it aside. The failures were undoubtedly Federation in source. Who else would seek to destroy the ship? Much as I wish them to be a fault in the design or build, I don’t see how they can be.”