The First Colony: Book I: Settlement Chronicals

by W. J. Rydrych

  Hath-Boc gasped for air as he again came to the surface after being thrown from Kraka's threshing back. His arm was ripped and bleeding, and his cheek and chest were raw from brushing against the creature's carapace. But Kraka was weakening, and again Hath-Boc fought his way through the surging water toward the creature. The tide was dropping, and the struggle had been long. The water at this shallow end of the pool where Kraka had retreated now barely came to Hath-Boc's shoulders, and over half of Kraka's huge body was exposed. With a surge of energy Hath-Boc struggled through the water toward Kraka, forcing himself past the threshing feelers at its head, and thrust his spear into the protruding eye. The creature reacted in fury, surging to dislodge the spear, with Hath-Boc being whipped from side to side as he hung grimly to the shaft. The spear ripped from Kraka's eye throwing Hath-Boc head first into the water, where he surfaced only to see Kraka's huge right claw as it reached for him. An agony of pain seared his body as the claw clamped around his leg, severing it from his body. The pain receded, to be replaced by blackness, as Hath-Boc sank to the bottom of the pool.

  After a time which seemed endless the activity slowed as wounds weakened 'Kraka', and as the numbers of the attackers diminished. Gradually the battle ended as 'Kraka' ceased to resist, and the remaining candidates climbed over his body and drove their spears into the quiescent hulk, screaming their cries of victory. Kraka was dead, and Torga's spirit had been shared. Slowly the victorious candidates climbed from the pool and made their way to the platform where the headmen stood. The number of candidates who had survived was fewer than in most years, perhaps because Kraka had come in a particularly large and ferocious embodiment this year. While nearly 200 candidates had entered the pool, less than 40 remained on their feet and able to climb to the platform, while several others nursed their injuries by the pool. But that was good, thought Hath, since the 'spirit of the Torgai' each had taken from Kraka would be spread between fewer new hunters, and each would be braver and stronger because of the increased share. Hath's eyes searched the group of candidates as they emerged from the pool for a sign of Hath-Boc, or Boc as he would now be known if he had survived. Hath-Boc was the eleventh son Hath had brought to the ceremonies, and of the previous ten only three had survived.

  Hath-Boc opened his eyes to find himself lying on the edge of the pool. Kra-Mac knelt over him, peering anxiously into his eyes. As he became aware of his surroundings he attempted to struggle to his feet, but fell back to the ground in agony. Only then did he see that his right leg was missing from just above the knee; cleanly severed from his body by Kraka's claw; blood seeping from the stump that someone had tied off with a tightened bond.

  With the realization that he now only had one leg came a sense of desolation. A hunter needed two legs. With one he could never join the hunt, and would become one of those Torgai who were kept in the village to do less manly things like making flint points for the hunting spears, or keeping watch for the big cats. And since he could not hunt, he could not take a mate or head a den. To Hath-Boc death was preferable.

  As the new Torgai hunters climbed to the top of the platform, Hath and the other headmen descended. This was the moment when the candidates would take their place of honor among 'the people', and for now the platform was theirs. A stillness settled over the assemblage, with the new Torgai crouching on the platform with their hands folded in reverence, and the old hunters crouched in a large semicircle around the platform in the same position of reverence. Hath continued to search among the candidates assembled on the platform for a sign of Hath-Boc, but he was not there. Only then did he see him still sitting at the edge of the pool looking mournfully at the assembled candidates. And with his sharp eyesight, Hath could see the reason; the stump of the leg, still flowing blood. Hath felt a sense of sadness for Hath-Boc. He was not to be a hunter, he was less than a man. He would carry the name Hath-Boc for the rest of his life which, for a Torgai, was worse than death.

  Suddenly shouting was heard from the group of Torgai returning from their assignment to open and close the gate to the pool. Leaping to his feet Hath saw that they were chasing three creatures who appeared to be humans like Eric. The assemblage of Torgai was soon on its feet racing in pursuit of the fleeing figures, with Hath one of those in the lead. The humans were awkward and slow, and had no chance to escape.

  Suddenly one of the humans turned, and pointed what looked like a spear at the advancing Torgai. Lightning leapt from the end of the spear into the advancing ranks of Torgai, striking and tearing pieces of flesh from the falling bodies, spattering the survivors. Then another of the humans joined in, the lightning cutting through the Torgai who had stopped in consternation. Hath stopped and looked in horror at the falling Torgai, and in terror joined in the sudden panicked flight from the scene. The flight was sudden and complete, leaving the three humans standing alone among the bodies of the dead and dying Torgai.

  The Torgai had hidden that night in the forests, and with the dawn had crept back in ones and twos to the place of ceremony. There the full scope of the disaster became clear. The humans had left, leaving only the bodies of the Torgai. Hath had looked long for the body of Hath-Boc, but had not found it. The Torgai had delayed only long enough to search to see if any of their wounded still alive, and then retreated across the island to their boats.

  Hath shook his head with the remembrance, and shuddered with agitation as he continued to gaze into the coals. Over 50 hunters had died that day, in seconds, at the hands of three humans. Sacred lives of 'the people' had been taken, and in the place of ceremony where only hunters, shamen, and hunter-candidates were allowed to go. A sense of shame filled Hath. He had not only fled, but had left his son Hath-Boc helpless and unable to flee. Never had he fled from danger before. It was not a day of which he could be proud.

  Yes, Hath had reason to fear what the humans could do, but he could not hate them. He didn't know how to hate, except perhaps the inbred hatred of the Kraa, but he was confused by the difference in the actions of the humans at the ceremony and the human, Eric. This was a matter too large for Hath or Barco to decide, it must involve all the clans and villages gathered for the grand council. Above all the lives of the Torgai must be protected.

  CHAPTER 12: Uncertain Future

  (September 4, Year 2): Colin's mind was in turmoil. The Argonaut had returned earlier in the day and he had just finished receiving a briefing from John and Margie. While notified by radio earlier, the shock of seeing the videos of the carnage at the island sat in his stomach like a leaden lump, an ache that wouldn't stop. While he had already called the colonization board members and briefed them, a board meeting was scheduled in one-half hour where John and Margie would go over the details, and later in the afternoon an assembly of all the colonists was scheduled. They had to get the facts out to stop the rumors that would be spreading through the colony. Already small groups of colonists were gathered here and there spreading their own version of the facts.

  Intelligent life on Alpha 2! And the first encounter had led to violence, with the slaughter of nearly 50 of the natives. Now what? Colin paced the floor in his office, his thoughts ranging through the implications of the discovery. What was the nature of the natives? How many were there, where were they located, and how strong were they and with what kind of weapons? And if not inherently hostile, what now after the slaughter? The colony had never been prepared to deal with an intelligent resident population; the initial data had shown no sign of past or present habitation by any species capable of being considered even remotely as a civilization. The colonist’s weapons were limited, and they were not psychologically prepared. All the training and equipment had been directed toward development of an unoccupied planet, and now this. Colin had no idea of how the colonists would react. He had immediately sent out all scout planes to search up to the limits of their range for any sign of habitation; a limited range, only about 500 kilometers, but information was what he needed now.

  The Argonaut had brought back t
hree injured natives, but only one had survived. The Chief Medical Officer, Wayne Nichols, was overseeing a rush dissection and analysis of the dead natives, while one of his assistants, Sonja Evans, was with the one that remained alive. According to Wayne, whether they could save the injured native was questionable. At least, he had said, the only serious injury was loss of a leg, but the creature was weak from loss of blood and shock, and without knowledge of the creature's biology transfusions or anything similar were out of the question. The same for antibiotics to ward off infection; they could be deadly. The rush autopsy of the two dead natives might give them more knowledge, but it could be days before they could complete an analysis of tissue and organ samples.

  Wayne had insisted on isolating the dissection crew and the dead natives, and also the living native and Sonja, from contact with the outside; and Ken, John, and Margie had also been placed in semi-isolation, with Margie sharing duties with Sonja in caring for the injured native. The fear was both that some alien disease agent might be present to which they had no immunity, but also that they might infect the native with some human disease. This isolation was a particular problem for Sonja who had a 3-month old infant at home, but that couldn't be helped. Medical skills were a limited commodity, and Sonja happened to be the only person with medical training available.

  Intelligent life! None of the previous expeditions or surveys had shown the slightest evidence of this, and the original explorations by the unmanned probes had come up negative. The only hint, that on reflection should have been taken more seriously, was the bracelet found by Tommy Ford over a year before. They had discounted the evidence, since the probability of encountering intelligent life on this first experience with a new star system had been considered so remote, and all the surveys and probes had been negative. Colin felt a twinge of guilt. It had been his responsibility to follow up, and he had failed to do it.

  "Damn Bachman," Colin said under his breath. "Too rash, he has always been too rash. Why hadn't he just observed from a distance instead of trying to approach and being seen?" Once they had been discovered the fat was in the fire, and they had little choice but to defend themselves. On reflection, he supposed he would have done the same to avoid capture or death.

  Colin went back to his desk where the pictures of the island and the pond, with its associated structures, were piled. Seating himself, he started to sort through the scattered pictures to analyze each one. Picking up one of the pictures he carefully studied it; a wide angle view of the pool and the structures surrounding it. The pool appeared to be about 200 to 250 meters across and roughly circular; the edge consisting of worked blocks of stone and what appeared to be a smooth walkway, also of stone, around its circumference. Bodies of dead natives were still on the walkway, the dead body of the huge lobster occupied one end, while some bodies still floated in the pool itself. Colin shook his head, it was clear they had interrupted some significant event.

  The inland end of the pool was of most interest, in that it had a stone platform rising above the pool itself, with steps on all 4 sides, topped by upright stone columns. The columns, from more detailed pictures, were finely worked and covered with carvings, and overall provided the appearance of a temple. With the size of the platform it should have been observable from space, either years before during the survey or while the expedition vessels were still in orbit; but unfortunately now overhead views weren't possible since it was beyond the range of the scout planes. He would have to retrieve all the records and photos from earlier surveys and have them reviewed.

  Colin realized there was nothing about the pool area that couldn't have been constructed by even a bronze age culture except one thing; the curved metallic arch beginning at the top of the platform and ending in the pool. It was simply inconsistent with what someone would expect to find in what appeared to be a primitive society. Bachman had tried to bring a sliver from the arch back, but it was impervious to what tools they had available; it was clearly a highly sophisticated metal alloy. Extremely hard and obviously resistant to weathering, it showed an advanced technology at least equivalent to theirs, and quite possibly more advanced.

  There were only two possible conclusions. First, that the arch was made far in the past when the natives may have had a more advanced technology, or second, that it was from some other advanced civilization that might still exist. The last possibility appeared remote, since if still resident they should have been able to locate structures, but nothing had been detected. Also, the weathering of the stone inscriptions indicated great age, and only the gates to the ocean showed any sign of recent work.

  Colin shuddered at the enormity of the discovery. That they had interrupted some religious ceremony of the natives made it even worse. The natives might understand loss of life in battle, but at what was clearly an important ceremony?

  Intruding on Colin's thoughts was the question of Eric. Does this explain his disappearance? Had he been killed or taken captive by the natives? By hindsight, they should have followed up Eric's disappearance with some expedition to see what had happened in spite of the colony's precarious situation at the time. John had been right when he argued it was essential, but Colin had overridden him at the board meeting. Another mistake in judgment.

  September 5, Year 2

  On the other side of the glass the captive lay unmoving, awake and observant. It, or rather he, was tied loosely to the bed to keep him from trying to get up. He was uncovered, with the stump of his leg tightly bandaged. While Sonja was behind the glass working in the room with the native it largely ignored her and kept its eyes on Margie. It also ignored the guard who was in the room with Sonja standing several feet away.

  Margie's eyes met those of the native. During the return trip she had spent most of her time trying to care for its injuries, which it seemed to understand. While its eyes showed wariness, they didn't show fear or hostility; it had learned to accept her presence and seemed to miss her when she was gone. If it was capable of language, and Margie assumed it must be, it had remained silent, always observing. She felt both compassion and a sense of affinity for the creature. It was lost from its people in a strange environment, and was injured and in pain.

  Hath-Boc lay quietly with his full attention on the surroundings in the room and on the human watching him from the opening in the wall. He knew she was a female of the human species and he felt no fear of her. Females were nothing to fear. Besides, she had tried to be kind to him. While on the ship he had watched and listened, and he knew the name the others called her was Margie. It was a sound he could understand but couldn't duplicate. The female in the room with him Hath-Boc ignored. He didn't look at her or move, even when she touched him to change his bandages. She seemed to want to help him, so he tolerated her, but she was a stranger.

  Just as the great ship had been a wonder, so was the village and the room to which he had been brought. The opening in the wall through which Margie watched him he knew was covered by a strange material he could see through, and he had never seen anything like that. And the strange materials on the bed where he lay, which weren't like any skins he had ever seen, were much finer than the cloth the Torgai women wove from the fibers of pounded stems of special plants. Hath-Boc thought to himself, maybe they will kill me or keep me like the Torgai keep Eric. The humans hadn't been unkind to him, but had tried to help him by caring for the stump of his leg and giving him food, although the food was strange.

  While Hath-Boc had difficulty making human sounds he could understand some of what the humans said from Eric's teaching. But now he would remain silent and watch. I will learn about them, he thought. I can't be a hunter without a leg even if I could escape, but I can become wise in the ways of these humans, and perhaps with this knowledge help the Torgai some day. With this thought Hath-Boc closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  Margie turned slightly and smiled as Carter appeared on the other side of the glass door and spoke into the intercom. "Don't let it bother you too much, Margie,
" he said, "all we can do now is try to make it comfortable. Sonja says he is out of danger and should survive."

  "I know," Margie said, "but it, or rather he, is so human. And I can't get it out of my mind that what happened was so unnecessary. It just didn't have to happen. I know we could make friends with these creatures if we could make them understand. I can just sense that they would be friendly if given half a chance." Turning, "how do we make friends with them now, Carter? Is it always the way that we kill first and asks questions later?"

  Carter responded, "we'll manage. We have to. We share this planet with them, and unless we want to wipe them out completely we have to find a way. Sometimes these things happen by accident, but we can still find a way to make contact and convince them that we can live in peace with them." Nodding toward Hath-Boc, Carter continued, "maybe he’ll be the key to making our people and his work it out. We have to show our intentions are peaceful, and what happened was an accident." Adding, "I hope you continue to work with him and show him we are a people he can trust."

  Margie returned a half smile, "I'll do whatever I can for him. I think he trusts me, at least both here and on the ship he seems to accept my presence without seeming nervous. But", she added, "are we to be trusted, Carter? There are a lot of people in the colony, John included, who might want a quick solution. We don't have much of a record of trustworthiness; we are a greedy, arrogant race, Carter," adding, "I don't know if I'd trust us."