The First Colony: Book I: Settlement Chronicals

by W. J. Rydrych

  Over the years changes had occurred in the hunting methods of the Kraa which made them better able to meet their food needs, and better able to compete with the Torgai. Key to these changes was the development of a more complex language and social structure, which allowed them to better coordinate the individual packs. This had led to a stable food supply, and with the stable food supply the Kraa were again able to expand in number.

  On Earth a common phrase was, "nature does not progress by leaps and bounds." An interesting play on words, but not always true. While changes were often gradual, driven by the environment, through mutation an individual could make a striking advance and, through increased ability to compete, be able to affect the entire species by passing along its superior genes. About 300 years before such a mutation had arisen among the Kraa. Larger and more ferocious than the other Kraa, this particular female had also experienced a major increase in the size and effectiveness of certain parts of the brain, the parts affecting abstract thought and long term memory. This was a major advance in that it gave this individual an increased reasoning capability and, as important, the ability to more easily modify her behavior based on past experience. The balance between 'instinct' and 'reasoning' was shifted forever.

  At a young age this female gained leadership of her pack and passed on her genes as her daughters formed new packs, and her sons with their advanced capabilities were able to pass the genes on to other bloodlines. A unique capability present within these special packs was an increased ability to work together and recognize leadership from outside the pack, in this case the original female. With recognition of units greater than the pack, advances were made in language and in the ability to pass on knowledge from one generation to another. Now this 'unique' leader was able to control the other packs even when the winter hunt was over. The result of these advances was a rapid increase in packs carrying the original bloodline, and the gradual extinction of competing packs.

  But this exceptional Kraa leader was different from earlier Kraa in another way also. She didn't fear the Torgai. She looked hungrily toward the rich savannas and watched and waited. About 100 years earlier, in a time of famine, a descendant of this female had become dominant, and made the decision to move south to compete with the Torgai for the savanna. Originally successful, once the Torgai clans united and came north they had decimated the Kraa packs and again driven them to the northern forest.

  This defeat did not cause the Kraa to revert to their previous state, but only to withdraw from confrontation with the Torgai. Then, about 40 years earlier, a female was born to one of the descendants of the originator of the bloodline. This far-removed daughter of the founder of the line may have been a further mutation, or merely an exceptional individual descendent of the original mutated genes. In any case, this individual had exceptional size, strength and intelligence. Her reasoning ability had blossomed to an unprecedented extent, and over the years she gained dominance over the packs of the bloodline and, with that bloodline now nearly universal within the Kraa packs, had become the leader of all the packs of the Kraa. This Kraa was Kraa-Ki, and she was restless.

  Over the years of Kraa-Ki's dominion the Kraa packs had increased, and now not only infested the northern forests and adjacent tundra, but had begun to move into the foothills to the east. With their growing numbers and increased organizational efficiency new opportunities were again opening to the Kraa. The lean times of hunting the pine forests could be put behind them, but custom and habit was strong in the Kraa, keeping them from expanding southward onto the savanna and into confrontation with the Torgai. However, as time passed the memory of their previous defeat by the Torgai dimmed. All that was needed was the spark to ignite the collective consciousness of the packs, a spark of an idea and a leader among them to recognize the opportunity. The Kraa might once again venture beyond the forests and move south to challenge the Torgai and reclaim the planet.

  CHAPTER 10: Contact

  (September 1, Year 2): Margie stood with her feet braced, her hands glued to the railing of the Argonaut as it drove westward fighting against the wind driven waves, the spray soaking her hair and clothes providing a welcome relief from the mid-day sun. In the distance the deep green of the delta, contrasting strongly with the azure sky, slowly receded. Here, far to the south of New Athens, while it was only late morning temperature had soared to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Finally they had been freed to explore the coastline to the south down as far as the delta of the great westward flowing river; their goal to attempt to find a navigable channel through the low, swampy delta that extended for nearly 100 kilometers from the Great River itself.

  Margie had to admit the Argonaut wasn't much of a ship as ships go, but it was their first and for some time the only one available. Less than 20 meters in length and powered by a primitive internal combustion engine, the ship was crowded by the six passengers and crew and the equipment stacked on the deck, not the least of which was the small, two-person submarine and the winches for lowering and raising it into the sea. But, in spite of its shortcomings the Argonaut had worked well. As long as they could find sheltered harborages at night and when the winds became too strong it served its purpose, and so far they had encountered no serious problems.

  Failure to send an expedition to search for Eric when he had disappeared the previous year had caused considerable dissension and conflict in the colony. Most of the rank and file and several of the colonization board members felt an expedition should be dispatched immediately, but Colin and his supporters had refused to yield to the pressure, insisting the personnel could not be spared at that time. Until the colony was secure manpower must be dedicated to more critical efforts, and was simply not available for a search effort. Eric was expendable when the welfare of the colony was at stake, and in those early months the work needed to establish the colony absorbed all available personnel. Eric had been popular and his disappearance had brought a touch of reality to the expedition; the realization that they weren't completely in control, and very hard choices would have to be made.

  Over the summer, following planting of the crops, the general situation of the colony had improved greatly. The rush of initial construction was over and the general improvement had raised everyone's spirits. The second growing season was going exceptionally well, with the summer rains well spaced, and the harvest was expected to provide considerably more than the colonists needed. Even if the next season didn't measure up they should have enough excess to carry them over, even with the increased consumption by the growing herds of livestock. Now, in this interim between harvesting the first and second crops, they had finally been given the go ahead to begin the coastal exploration.

  This first exploration of the coast south of New Athens Bay was a memorable experience. She, John Bachman, Ken McDaniel, and the three crew members had left New Athens ten days earlier and were now nearly at the mouth of the Great River, the goal of the expedition. Gradually working their way south, making periodic anchorages while she and Ken McDaniel explored the shelf with the 2-man minisub and John Bachman led shore parties to investigate the area inland, their days had started at dawn and rarely ended before midnight. In the evenings they compiled their data for input to the onboard computer and compared notes on the events of the day. All in all it had been a memorable experience, with something new being encountered nearly every day.

  Initially the terrain abutting the shoreline had been rocky and windblown with little vegetation. But as they progressed south the elevation of the land decreased, sometimes heavily wooded, and occasionally swampy. The wildlife varieties also changed with the change in terrain, as yesterday when they arrived at the edge of the delta they had first encountered the large crocodile or lizard-like creatures reported by the expedition the year before. They had also noted other large and small animals which largely ignored their presence.

  Today they were headed for the large island at the edge of the shelf beyond the mouth of the Great River. Using that as a base
they planned to check the depths beyond before returning to spend the balance of their time searching for a navigable channel through the delta.

  Ken McDaniel worked his way along the railing to where Margie was stationed until he grasped the rail at her side. "Tomorrow is the big day," he said with his infectious grin. "We'll see what the sub can really do." Margie glanced at Ken, her nervousness not showing. Off the island a 5 kilometer wide area extended in a long, gradual slope to an undetermined depth, an exception to the sharp drop for most of the shelf. They expected this intermediate level to exhibit forms of sea life not native to the higher shelf itself which rarely went below 100 meters before abruptly ending in a sheer drop.

  Today was a welcome break for Margie and Ken from their daily minisub excursions; once the Argonaut was anchored in the cove on the island's north shore they could spend the day exploring. The island was of more than normal interest because of its large size, and what appeared from the orbital observations to be a large, water filled crater near the western edge.

  "Do you want to come with the land party?" Margie asked. Adding, "It’s probably your only chance to get your land legs back. We should be anchored before 1:00 and won't be going below with the sub until tomorrow."

  "No," Ken replied, "I think I'll just do some maintenance on the sub, and then catch up on my reading." After a pause he added, "besides, I can think of things I would rather do than spend an afternoon with Bachman." Margie grinned, without comment. The bad feelings between John and Ken were well known. John was hard to like, and wasn't exactly her idea of an ideal shore companion either. Too intense and humorless.

  Behind the Argonaut the shoreline had receded to a blue haze, while ahead the blur on the horizon which was the island was growing into a distinguishable object. The dense vegetation, and the strip of brilliant white sand and the low craggy hills behind, were taking shape.

  The island was approximately 20 kilometers from north to south with a width of roughly 5 kilometers; one of the few, and by far the largest island near the mainland. The Argonaut slowed as it approached, threading its way through the rocky entrance to the 'pincer shaped' bay behind the headland. Below the bottom was visible through the clear, still water as they approached the shore. Positioning itself offshore, away from any rocks, the anchor was lowered, and the engine stilled.

  Margie gazed at the green, tree lined shore with its narrow, sandy beach, the only sound, except for the distant sound of surf on the western side of the headland, that of birds and the hum of insects. Margie leaned over the side watching the activity as the inflatable boat was lowered, the sun warm on her back.

  Once the two crewmen were aboard, John Bachman climbed down and, motioning to Margie, reached up and helped her down the ladder. Unfastening the ropes that held the boat to the Argonaut, the crewmen pushed off with the oars and pointed the boat toward shore. Within minutes they reached shallow water, and Margie jumped out and splashed onto the fine coral sand beach, John following suit, trailed by the 2 crewmen who proceeded to pull the boat up on shore.

  Leaving one of the crewmen to take the boat back to the Argonaut, John, Margie, and the other crewman, each shouldering a rifle, headed down the shore looking for some sort of path through the bordering vegetation. The western shore of the island was rocky with low cliffs, and while the eastern shore did have occasional sand beaches, the forests inland were nearly impenetrable. The best route appeared to be to follow the rocky backbone of the island which extended for its full length from north to south. This backbone stood out on the orbital photographs and appeared to be only lightly wooded.

  Soon, where the rocky headland met the forest, they found what they were looking for, a game trail at the foot of the ridge which led southward in the direction of the crater. The path was narrow, and they were from time to time forced to push themselves through the encroaching vegetation; Margie, second in line behind Bachman, was soon drenched in sweat. As they worked south the trail gradually sloped upward following the eastern side of the ridge, which effectively blocked the breeze from the west. The combination of upward climb, heat and lack of breeze, insects, and lack of exercise over the last few weeks soon made it an agony for Margie. It became a struggle just to place one foot in front of the other. "Why," thought Margie, "did I ever decide to come?" It had seemed an endless time since they had started, but Margie knew it couldn't have been over an hour.

  "John, I need a rest," Margie gasped.

  "OK," John replied glancing back, "the next open area we find. We're almost at the top of the ridge anyway. Sorry, I forgot you weren't used to this."

  Within minutes they reached the top of the slight rise they had been climbing and found a place where the ridge flattened out, providing both an open area and a slight breeze. The largely treeless top of the ridge stood out as it worked its way to the south, while below on one side was the dense forest and on the other a border of scrub growth separating the ridge from the ocean. They had come about 3 kilometers, and estimated that they were within 1 to 2 kilometers of the edge of the crater.

  "We can rest here," John said, as Margie slumped gratefully against a boulder, sliding loosely to a semi-sprawling position. John unscrewed his canteen and held it up to see if there were any takers. Margie took it gratefully, took a long drink, and returned it. Then, sprawled out, Margie slipped into a relaxed state as the cooling breeze rustled her sweat matted hair. Margie and the others lay unmoving, completely relaxed.

  Through semi-closed lids Margie gazed out on the rugged landscape to the south. The only sounds were the buzzing of insects and occasional bird calls against the background of the surf sounding against the western shore. The sound was almost hypnotic as Margie slipped into a state of semi-dozing.

  Gradually a different sound worked its way into Margie's consciousness and competed with the sounds of the surf and the insects. It worked its way slowly through her dreamlike state until she opened her eyes, gazing toward the south, unmoving and uncomprehending. A deep sound, almost like the beating of a strong surf, but repeating itself at intervals of 2-3 seconds before gradually dropping in intensity. It seemed to cause a strange sensation, like the air itself was beginning to vibrate.

  Now fully awake, Margie pushed herself up to a sitting position, looking to the south from where the sound seemed to emanate. John and the crewman were already on their feet staring to the south, not moving or speaking. Margie looked over at John, who exchanged a puzzled look, and again stared to the south. The intensity of the sound gradually built until it seemed to fill the air; it was distinctly uncomfortable, a low-frequency vibration, causing an odd feeling in her stomach. Placing her hand against the rocky outcrop she could almost feel the vibration, as if the entire island were resonating. Margie got to her feet and went over to stand next to John. "What do you think it could be?" she asked.

  John shook his head slowly from side to side, saying, "I have no idea. It's possible, I suppose, that a heavy surf pounding into a cave or something could be the explanation, but I doubt it." Glancing over at Margie, John said, "whatever it is, I'm going to take a look. Want to stay here or come along?"

  "No way am I staying by myself," Margie said, picking up her things. "This team sticks together."

  Working their way along the ridge, with John in the lead, the group struggled down the steep westerly side to the level area paralleling the shore. There was no longer a trail to follow and the underbrush made travel difficult. As they worked their way to the south the sound increased in intensity, having a hypnotic effect. Whatever was causing the sound appeared to be somewhere near the crater. Margie felt her heart pounding from the exertion and the adrenalin being pumped into her body. Her knees were scraped and sore, and she was covered with insect bites, and across her face were several reddened welts from branches whipping back from John's passage ahead. The further they went to the south the more intense became the sound, the vibrations becoming almost unbearable. Suddenly, without warning, the sound stopped, leaving only th
e pounding of the surf.

  John stopped and raised his hand to signal the others. Ahead the ground sloped gradually to near sea level, covered only with sparse, low brush. "We're getting close to the crater. That seems to be the source of the sound. If we can work our way down that slope we should be close to its western end. Keep the noise down: I don't know what we may be getting into."

  Leading, John started slowly down the slope, moving carefully as he watched for movement ahead. Margie followed behind, careful not to lose her footing on the steep slope.

  Progress was slow, with nearly 30 minutes passing before they reached the shore near the crater and started to follow the open ground bordering the shallow ridge which separated them from the northern side of the crater. After about 150 meters they rounded a slight bend where the ridge disappeared, forming one side of the water filled crater and a large grass filled bowl.

  CHAPTER 11: The End of Innocence

  (October 5, Year 2): Barco, chief shaman of the Torgai village, gazed into the smoke from the council fire, his eyes dim with age and cloudy with the film of cataracts. The other figures crouching around the fire hole in the common house were blurred outlines through the smoky haze. The room was silent, as the others waited for Barco to give a sign that the time for discussion had come. Hath rose and placed several more pieces of wood and another handful of green plants on the embers, increasing the cloud of smoke, then returned to his position opposite the fire hole, his eyes on Barco. Barco was older than any of the Torgai in the village, and had been an old man even when the oldest of them had still not come of age. He was said to be among the oldest of the elders of 'the people'. Only Cormandai, shaman of the village of Suth in the northern highlands, stood above him in the loose hierarchy of the shaman-priests, and it was rumored that Cormandai was older than even Barco.