by L. E. Howel
They came to a large set of windowless double doors. Konik pushed a few buttons on a number-pad and they slid open. The sudden humidity of the outside air made Birch gasp. He felt the heat hit him like a wall. Natural sunlight streamed across his face as he moved through the doorway. He covered his eyes against the glare. The warmth on his skin felt strange, but good.
As his eyes adjusted to the light Birch was struck by the greenness of the grass, of the trees, and of everything that surrounded him. It had been so long since he had seen it in its natural setting that it came as a startling revelation, like a visual 1492 that shocked his senses and shook his assumptions. He hadn't really thought about it before, but now it seemed that green was the color of life. He was surrounded by life, no longer on that cold, dead, gray rock of a planet, or encased in a sterile steel ship in space. He was back. He had missed it, and now he stood among it all and breathed in the humid air hungrily. It smelled good to him. It seemed as though he had had a lifetime of filtered, purified, artificial air and now the taste of reality was delicious.
He looked across to the others, they all were as glad as he was to be here. For a time all any of them could do was simply gaze at the world around them. Karla was carrying her shoes and walking barefoot through the grass. He should have been angry with her, but all he could do was laugh and shake his head. She smiled back coyly, "Sorry sir," she apologized, "I couldn’t help myself." Birch raised his eyebrows in mock disgust.
“Consider yourself on report, Lieutenant,” Birch replied with a wry smile. Somehow her action seemed to fit the moment, but he could never admit that. “There's something about this place,” he murmured. “Just walking out here can make you feel something different.”
Karla nodded. “It’s home,” she whispered.
Commander Konik glared impatiently back at the group. "Let's move it," he barked. "We are working under a tight schedule here and we need to make it to our first base camp by nightfall." He turned and strode on. Birch and the others hurried to catch up, following him around the corner and into a large fenced compound.
The compound housed a number of strange looking, rust-spotted vehicles and various other odd devices that Birch didn’t recognize. He couldn't tell if they were elaborate weapons or tools of some kind. Other items were more clearly for military purpose. One vehicle that caught Birch's attention had a powerful looking missile launch system housed behind its cabin. Others had strange looking devices that Birch couldn't even begin to guess at their function. It certainly appeared that this base was well equipped and was prepared for either assault or defense. If this world was working toward perfection, as Commander Konik had suggested, this stockpile of weapons was an indication of just how far they had to go. You didn’t need guns like this in paradise.
Konik was making his way toward a line of six ugly looking vehicles. Most of them had the appearance of squat boxes on fat-tired wheels. Painted in camouflage colors, they were obviously troop carriers and it didn't look to Birch like they had been built for comfort or speed. Each was topped with an impressive looking gun turret and had other, strange looking weapons systems built into their bodywork. These were followed by one of the missile launching vehicles.
As impressive as all of this seemed, instead of making Birch and the others feel more secure it increased their worry. What was out there that warranted these elaborate defense systems? Whatever it was, they were going out to face it on a three thousand mile journey under unknown conditions. The thought was not a comforting one.
A group of soldiers standing next to the vehicles came to attention as the Commander approached. Konik signaled to the sergeant, who came to his side and saluted. "All vehicles are prepared according to your orders, sir," the sergeant announced. Konik nodded curtly.
"Very good, Sergeant," he snapped. "Let's get moving!" He turned to them and gestured sharply toward the line of trucks. Birch and the others clambered into their assigned vehicles. He noted that, like the proverbial eggs, they were not being carried in one basket. This was a natural enough precaution, he supposed, but it also seemed like another unsettling indication that the threat of a successful attack must have been very real.
Birch himself was assigned to the second vehicle with Lauren and, like the others, they shared the transport with some of the soldiers who were protecting them. Konik and Edwards were in the lead vehicle, the third held Jane, and the fourth DeSante and Karla, the missile launcher was behind them, and the sergeant and more troops were in the final carrier at the rear.
Six engines sputtered to life. The convoy slowly trundled through the rusted iron gates that opened to allow them through. As Birch looked at the sparse walls of the truck and felt the hard seat beneath him he thought of the three thousand miles ahead and sighed. This was what he had been waiting for.
TWELVE
Birch watched as the base slowly disappeared behind them. He was glad to see it go, they had been caged there, but now as he looked back he felt an odd twinge of regret. It wasn’t the secure walls they were leaving or the uncertain future they were facing that troubled him so much as the feeling that he was leaving something behind. He had hated the past and all that it had represented, and yet he still knew that he was losing something valuable. While he was still in his cell the past had been alive, now it was truly dead. This was the future. He should have been glad, he tried to convince himself that he was, and yet as they drove on he strained to look back.
Soon the trucks had turned onto a dirt road. The dust from their tires flew up and he lost sight of the distant buildings in the hazy cloud that streamed behind them. Birch turned to look forward.
For many miles the terrain was flat and featureless. A few scattered buildings and sparse settlements were the only evidence of human habitation, apart from the road itself. All was green and lush. It was pleasant, but somehow sterile, like the manufactured vista of a well-groomed golf course.
Green plains eventually gave way to tree covered hills. The manicured grasses slowly grew more ragged at the edges as nature took a firmer hold on their surroundings. Tall pines, stripped of all their lower foliage, surrounded the road and the late afternoon sunlight cast their long shadows across the convoy. The change in scenery did not change the impression. Still he marveled at the beauty, but he also recognized the practical purpose here. The cleared trees provided no cover for any assailant, and so increased the security of the road. This was a society that had adapted to war. The form of the land had been altered for their own protection, he was sure of that.
It was early evening when they arrived at the compound of the first base camp. The structure was similar to the one they had left earlier that day, though on a much smaller scale. Birch estimated it to be manned by a troop of maybe twenty or thirty soldiers, and their demeanor was calm enough to convince him that they were still some distance from any imminent danger. He also learned that this was just one of a network of bases dotted across the country. On the surface this seemed another sign of strength, but Birch found it troubling. Clearly there was a potent opposition out there to warrant this level of security, despite Konik’s explanations.
That first night of their journey was a peaceful one. The rooms of the outpost were small and had to be shared, but as Birch lay on his bunk listening to the deeper breathing of his sleeping comrades he couldn’t help but be thankful that so far things had been better than he had expected. Their progress had been slow, but unimpeded by any obvious danger. If they could maintain that sort of speed for the rest of the journey their travel would be finished long before the two month time-frame Konik had spoken of. It was this fact, though, more than anything that warned him of the future. For Konik’s estimated travel time to be correct, Birch imagined, tough times must lie ahead.
Their experience over the next few days was less encouraging. There were no obvious threats to the convoy, but their speed slowed further and their caution grew. Birch also noted from the position of the sun that they were not travelling direct
ly eastward, but often veered off to the south, the north, or even back west for hours at a time. “One step forward, two steps backwards,” Birch mused bitterly. “At this rate we’ll be lucky to get there in two months!”
As the days passed their creeping progress became marked by perceptible changes around them. Gradually the woods had grown thicker and wilder, while the bases they stopped at became ever more tightly secured. Each day Birch expected some more visible sign of fighting, but found none. It seemed to him that they must have been getting closer to danger, but all the indications were subtle.
He particularly noted that the attitude of the troops at each base became progressively harder and less open as they traveled eastward. That first night the troops had warmly welcomed their convoy. Some of them clearly knew the soldiers serving in their compliment, and the atmosphere had almost seemed jovial as they had greeted one another. But now the greetings were terse and guarded. They eyed their arrival suspiciously, before finally admitting them to the compound. In spite of all this there was still no visible sign of fighting and Birch began to wonder about the nature of the conflict. Konik and the other soldiers, when asked, remained obstinately silent on the subject.
By the fifteenth day the trees had begun to thin out, and they could see a range of mountains rising in the distance. As they progressed so the mountain’s grandeur grew to fill the horizon; they were approaching the Rockies. Their escorts had been careful to say nothing about their location and Birch wondered where exactly they were, probably somewhere between Colorado and Canada judging by the climate, but that wasn’t very helpful.
Their gradual approach slowly revealed a structure at the base of the mountain range. Small at first against the imposing rock-face backdrop, it seemed to increase to impressive proportions as they drew nearer. This was the largest base they had visited yet, greater even than the one they had been held at initially.
As gun turrets, thick walls, and missile placements came into focus Birch let out a low whistle. The sight alone of the firepower on display here should have been enough to deter any attack.
It was dusk when they finally reached the foot of the mountains. A glowing array of lights had begun appearing in the windows of the base. This was not a fearful little outpost hidden away from enemy eyes; rather it was a City on a Hill that proudly made its presence known.
The process of gaining entry was more stringent than ever. Even Commander Konik’s input seemed to have little effect in speeding things up this time.
Once inside Birch was struck again by the sheer size of it all. It was a small town surrounded by high walls. Like the castles of old it was self-sufficient, but unlike those castles, it could bring deadly force to bear against any who dared to attack it. Soldiers and gleaming weapons were visible everywhere as patrols were formed and dispersed into the gathering gloom of night. It was in strange contrast to the peaceful countryside about them. Outside there had been a tranquil beauty that seemed hard to explain. Despite himself Birch had been affected by it. Inside, the industry of destruction seemed hard at work preparing for some unknown task. It was a stark difference. They were getting close to the danger now, he was sure of that. He had observed everything but there was still no way to tell what they were fighting.
For the next few days they waited in solitude. No explanation was provided; they merely waited. They were confined to their quarters and saw nothing of the life happening around them. They were back in that same bubble they had lived in before their pilgrimage to Washington had begun. Obviously they were being shielded, but it was unclear if they were being kept safe from potential dangers or just isolated from outside information.
Birch chafed at the confinement. He paced and seethed, but, as so often in the past, seemed powerless to do anything other than follow the stronger currents that life had set out for him. He tried to learn what he could by probing the guards who brought food, but they offered nothing. They were in the dark save for the one piece of information Konik saw fit to divulge to them, that this base was the last bastion of civilization they would see for a while. The “base hopping” that had gotten them this far was coming to an end. The outposts beyond this point were scattered and scarce staging posts in a wild country. They would be on their own.
“You should enjoy your beds, and your food, and your life while you’re here!” Konik had snapped after Birch’s hounding questions about their confinement and delay at the base. “It may be the last chance you get to enjoy any of them!”
THIRTEEN
Finally on the fifth night they were ready to leave. Birch and the others had been warned not to go to bed, but to be dressed and ready to go, because they would be driving out with one of the night patrols.
By midnight the guards had brought them down to the courtyard where the convoy was forming. Their original six vehicles were joined by two of the lighter, sleeker transports used by the troops of the base in their night excursions to the surrounding area. These were to be their escort on the first part of the journey over the mountains.
Birch was anxious for the opportunity to see what was happening out there. He was tired of all this creeping and dodging. No more running. His whole life seemed to be running and he was done with it. If they were heading into danger he just wanted get on with it now and face it down, or fall trying.
The line of trucks slipped through the fortress gates and moved cautiously toward the mountain range. If Birch had hoped for any immediate evidence of the nature of the conflict or the enemy they faced he was disappointed as they traveled in complete darkness. He hadn’t noticed before, all of their travelling had been by daylight, but there were no headlights on any of their trucks. The drivers appeared to rely on a night-vision screen in the cab. All other illumination was extinguished. It was a perfect cover for a night patrol, but unhelpful for Birch’s purpose. For a time he strained for any sight of what they were doing, but eventually he gave up in frustration and went to sleep.
When he awoke sunlight from the early dawn was streaming through the windows of the truck. They were traveling on the memory of a mountain road that was neither smooth, nor well maintained. The winding line of decaying asphalt seemed to cling to the side of the mountain by little more than force of habit; crumbling bits of road came free and slid into the valley below as they passed over it.
The still mountain forest hardly seemed to notice their presence as they trundled through it. The scene was beautiful as tall pines stretched up into an unblemished blue sky. Occasionally, as they turned a corner on the road, a clearing would open up before them, presenting a panoramic view of the countryside below. All the while Birch was struck by the greenness and the strong impression that there was something good about it all.
The convoy slowed almost to a crawl. Looking ahead Birch saw that the night patrol was still leading them; they had not returned to the base. He wasn’t sure if that had any special significance, but he thought it likely to indicate that there was some danger here that might require their extra protection. Their slowing speed heightened his suspicions, perhaps they had observed the enemy nearby. He stared out of the window, straining for any sign of them, but there seemed to be nothing. The road ahead looked as clear as ever. The only discernable difference was their speed. They were hardly moving.
For the next few hours they crawled along the mountain road. Birch grew more impatient and irritable. Their speed alone would have been maddening to him, but his greater concern was with the cause. He suspected they were at a dangerous point, but no one was telling them anything. He had tried to speak with the troops in his truck, but as always he found them reserved and unwilling to answer.
“Maybe I should get out and push,” he suggested sourly.
No one answered. His words meant nothing to them. All Birch could do was turn to his window again and watch as each mile crept slowly by.
He strummed his fingers against the arm of his seat in quiet irritation as the truck weaved and bounced along the rutted trail. T
he road seemed to be getting worse. Birch’s mood darkened as they hit another deep hole that sent him bouncing against the wall. He couldn't imagine travelling much further like this. He sighed as he looked over at Lauren. She was sitting serenely, apparently unaffected by the bumpy terrain.
Konik's decision to put Lauren in Birch’s truck had only added to his annoyance at the situation. There was something cold and distant about Lauren and his time riding with her had been awkward. She was an outsider, not NASA personnel, but a contractor brought in for research purposes and because of her knowledge of the terraforming process. She still functioned as a regular crewmember, but Birch was always aware that she was working from a different agenda to the rest of them. He never quite trusted her for that reason. He and the others were all NASA. That meant that they embraced the ideals that the organization stood for, basically human expansion and self-improvement through the space program. Lauren was Industry, and that meant basically that she was working for money.
Birch personally knew of instances where Industry crew-members had cut across NASA orders to achieve their own individual goals. You didn’t hear about it in the press, of course, their coexistent relationship was too important to air their grievances publically, but NASA had complained bitterly in private about these occurrences. Their money had been too vital to do much more than that. Instead of removing all Industry crewmembers, as Birch thought they should, NASA instead placed more safeguards on their training and left the system largely unchanged. To Birch this was just tinkering at the edges of the problem and he knew that the decision was an economic one, not a smart one. He had decided to watch any Industry crewmember he ever worked with very closely.
Lauren hadn't done much to disprove Birch's fears since he had known her, but then she hadn’t done much to prove them either. She was a strangely neutral person. There wasn't anything specific he could say against her, but she was always so quiet and observant, like she was watching for something to use against you later. Apart from Karla, Lauren rarely had anything to say to anyone on any subject except work related issues. Even Karla, for all their talks together, didn’t really know her well. Lauren was that type of person. Birch felt it was because there was something she wanted to hide, something that might have an important bearing on their mission.