The First Colony: Book I: Settlement Chronicals

by W. J. Rydrych

  November 19, Year 2

  The group of Torgai jogged in single file down the path bisecting the broad valley, adjusting their pace to that of Barco's litter bearers. Eric often ran among them, but, because of his lack of endurance, periodically rested in the litter provided for him. Because of the lateness of the season the route over the mountains was impassable with mountain snows, and besides this route was closer to New Athens. The route they followed sloped gradually as the valley angled to the northwest, opening onto the savanna. Their main challenge would be crossing the upper reaches of the river they had followed on their way to Suth's village, but at this time of the year it should be fairly low. Even if not, boats were hidden there which would allow them to cross. The litter swayed as the jogging Torgai moved down the trail, causing a steady rocking motion that made it difficult for Barco to keep awake.

  The night before had been spent in discussions between Cormandai, Barco, Hath, and Suth in Cormandai's den, planning the trip and what should be done when they arrived at the human's village, and Barco was tired.

  After the others had left the meeting, leaving Barco and Cormandai alone, Cormandai had sat silently for some moments, then said, "someday soon you will replace me, and you must know why I made the recommendation I did. I have dreamed a dream that involves the humans, and it concerns me greatly, and this I have discussed with no one. I can not say what it means, but I feel it is a message. In that dream I was a young man again, and one other and myself were paddling a boat to the island you use for your manhood ceremony. With us were dozens of other boats filled with Torgai. As we neared the island a storm and a strong wind drove the boat out to sea, and it was filling with water. Waves overwhelmed all the other boats and the Torgai in them were drowned. I thought I would die. Then the person in the front of the boat turned around and looked at me, and I saw it was a human."

  Cormandai continued, "the human put his paddle in the water, and started to paddle strongly toward the land, and I did the same. The wind was strong, but after a long time we came to the shore and pulled the boat away from the water and lay down exhausted to sleep. And then I woke up. This dream is strange, but was very clear. I now share it with you so you can also think about it. I think it is an omen, and that in some way the future of the humans and the Torgai are tied together."

  Adding, "but it may also be an omen of evil for the Torgai, for many, many Torgai died in my dream, and it makes my heart cold."

  Cormandai then looked at Barco, and said before motioning to his apprentices to help him to his bed, "nothing can be as it was before."

  CHAPTER 18: Waiting for Answers

  (December 5, Year 2): John Bachman, in his assignment as chief of the colony's agricultural effort, had reason to be pleased with himself. The land was fertile, the seeds brought from Earth had germinated well and produced a bountiful crop, and the sheep and cattle from the frozen embryos had reached the stage where, by spring, they could safely be put out to permanent pasture. Even some of the native herd animals were proving adaptable to domestication. The storage silos were nearly filled, and with the completion of the corn harvest both the colony and the livestock were amply supplied until the next harvest.

  But John wasn't satisfied. He chafed under Colin Murphy's leadership, and felt contempt for Colin's passive leadership style. If they were going to successfully colonize this planet they must have firm control of the entire planet, not share it with a primitive society like the Torgai. That had never worked on Earth, and John was convinced it wouldn't work here either. He firmly believed the Torgai must either be brought under their control or exterminated; a policy not differing greatly from that of the early American government. Find out where their villages were and destroy them, was John's belief; and it was a belief shared by many of the colonists. With their superior weapons the colonists shouldn't find that too difficult. In parallel start an aggressive population growth program by making maximum use of the frozen human embryos. The only thing stopping that now were the archaic moral beliefs brought from Earth, and Colin Murphy's control of the Colonization Board.

  John was convinced that, if his proposals were followed the colony would succeed, but if not the risks of failure could only increase with time. Many, put off by John's abrasive manner, marked his views down to selfish interests, but that wasn't the case. Success of the colony was first and foremost in his mind, and he sincerely believed he was right.

  Right now John knew he needed influential allies and he thought he knew where he could get them. The Johnsonites were the key, if only he could make contact. He was sure there was a Johnsonite presence among the colonists but he had no idea who they were other than Mark Cohn. On Earth, before he had become active on the mission, he had a brief flirtation with them, but had never met any of their leaders except the one cell leader who tried to recruit him. But while their ideas weren't that different from his own, he had been put off by the fanatic religious justification they based them on.

  In this morning's board meeting John had again pushed for quick action against the Torgai before the colony was further weakened and been rebuffed. His arguments fell on deaf ears, and in irritation he had been pushed into directly challenging Colin. He knew he had overplayed his hand and damaged his own position; the confrontation had only succeeded in polarizing the board into two camps, and his camp consisted of only himself and Carlton, with the real disappointment Margo Kladstrup's support of Colin's position.

  "For now," John thought, "Colin may have his way. But that can be made to change." He was not about to forgive or forget the tongue lashing Colin had given him after the expedition to the island, and Colin's pushing his nose in it at the board meeting.

  "The war isn't over, not with the loss of just one battle," John said to himself. If he couldn't swing the board to his view, there were still the other colonists, many if not most of whom John thought were sympathetic to his views. "From now on," John thought, "to hell with the board. I'll do what I think is right."

  John's mind shifted to more pleasant thoughts. Like the evening he had arranged to spend with Alicia Cohn. Arranging these meetings with Alicia was complicated by the smallness of the colony, but tonight Mark Cohn was supervising the night shift at the hydroponics facilities and wouldn't be off duty until his shift ended at 6:00 A.M, and his own wife Joan would be working until at least midnight. Where there was a will, there was a way. John smiled. He not only could enjoy Alicia, but she was also useful in influencing Mark toward John's point of view on the colony. And Mark, while not a member of the Colonization Board, was influential with many of the colonists and key to his plans for other reasons as well.

  "Two birds with one stone," he thought.

  Turning his mind to the other major issue the board had discussed before his confrontation with Colin, at least it appeared that would soon be under control. The report from Dr Nichols was more promising than his earlier reports had been, but unfortunately it hadn't helped John's argument to take rapid action against the Torgai. If the virus problem was solved, as Dr Nichols thought, it reinforced Colin’s 'wait-and-see' approach. While over 30 members of the colony were hospitalized with the respiratory disease that had become increasingly prevalent over the last several weeks, Dr Nichols reported they at least now had a more concrete direction of study to pursue. Wayne reported that, while the virus mutated so rapidly that it developed a resistance to each new treatment within a matter of weeks, they had discovered how it was spread, and it wasn't airborne; biting flies were the culprit. The carrier, or reservoir, for the virus seemed to be certain varieties of birds, but other native wildlife appeared to be clear. Testing of the captive Torgai, and cultures of the tissues and organs of the two dead Torgai, showed they also were clear of the virus. Not only were the Torgai immune to the disease, the virus appeared incapable of existing in the Torgai. Something in their blood chemistry appeared to modify the virus to a benign form that was filtered out with time.

  With the above findings they wo
uld be able to control the spread of the disease with use of insect repellants and fogging of the area until they developed a successful vaccine, which Wayne was sure they would eventually. The primary area of study now was to determine why the Torgai, and apparently the other large mammals, were immune to the virus; something about the blood or tissue chemistry of the indigenous life made it impossible for the virus to survive in its initial form. Once they had the answer to that Dr Nichols was sure the problem could be solved.

  Elsewhere . . . .

  Sonja brushed the strands of hair from her forehead and adjusted the bandages that covered the injured machinist's hand. Several fingers had been lost in the accident but had been reattached with microsurgery. It had been a tedious operation, but she felt it would be fully successful. Some slight finger dexterity might be lost, but not enough to hinder his work.

  Sonja continued her rounds in the crowded ward before going back to her small, cluttered office. All the patient rooms were filled, with even some beds in the halls. "Not very good isolation practices," she thought, "but the best we can do. At least it’s good enough now that we know how the virus is spread." Slumping into a chair, Sonja rubbed her eyes with fatigue. It had been a long day. She hadn't gotten to bed until 2, and had been routed out at 7:30 by the accident to the machinist. The surgery had lasted over five hours, and then her other duties had kept her here until now.

  Shaking herself, Sonja rose from the chair and picked up her jacket. A short visit with Hath-Boc, and then back to her quarters. If Carter hadn't eaten maybe they could have a late supper.

  The good news was that analysis of the Torgai blood and fluid makeup showed enough differences from that of the humans that there had to be something that would lead to a cure. But with the finding that most of the humans were already infected, even though the virus was dormant, it was like a ticking time bomb.

  In Hath-Boc's quarters . . . .

  Hath-Boc moved clumsily down the hall to his room favoring the new artificial leg. It was awkward, but each day he was getting more used to it. It was better than the crutch, and the human called Sonja had said that someday he would be able to walk almost normally, and even run. To Hath-Boc it seemed almost like magic. That a leg, once lost, could be made over again. And with the promise of a new leg, Hath-Boc's hopes had soared. With a leg maybe he could become a hunter. If, he thought, he ever saw his people again.

  He knew about the journey the humans were making to his village, but he was worried. He didn't know what the Torgai would do if their territory was entered now. At one time any strangers would have been welcomed as guests, but after the encounter on the island the reaction was uncertain. The Torgai would be angry at the unprovoked attack and the sacrilege to their sacred place. Hath-Boc wished he could have gone along; maybe he could have helped. But he knew he could not have yet made the journey.

  Reaching his room Hath-Boc crouched in his normal at rest position. The bed had been removed and replaced with a sleeping pad which made him feel more at home. They had also covered the windows to make the room darker like a Torgai den. But still he missed the warmth of the social relationship of his family and the village, and in spite of the time he had spent here not being among his people caused a gnawing ache in his stomach. And he missed Tashi. She would now have reached the age of 14 and would most likely soon marry, if she hadn't already. In his heart Hath-Boc knew his former life was finished, and he must find other ways to help his people than by living among them as a hunter. Even with a new leg the knowledge of his failure would limit his acceptance.

  He would have to find a new way. With the knowledge he was gaining of the humans perhaps he would someday be the one who could carry their knowledge to his people. The bond to his village and his people was too strong to break.

  In Colin's office . . . .

  Colin found it hard to suppress his anger when he thought of Bachman and today's board meeting. John had stopped any pretense of cooperation, and had openly challenged his leadership, demanding a vote of confidence. While Colin held the votes on the board to win in any confrontation, John's possible connections to the cult that had emerged among the colonists was a major concern. While he had no direct evidence that John had ties to them, the positions he was taking were similar, and he was afraid John was setting up a situation to gain their support.

  “No way,” Colin thought, could John really believe the extreme quasi-religious views of the cult, which called itself the Johnsonites after the original founder, Amanda Johnson. If he was involved with them it was to use them; but even that could legitimize their views. He had assigned Carter to attempt to determine who their leaders were but so far Carter had been unsuccessful. They were very secretive.

  During the early 21st century a charismatic professor at the University of Utah, Amanda Johnson, had begun to preach superiority of the white race, and her fanaticism created a schism in the Mormon church. Fired from the university and expelled from the church she had created a church of her own which had developed into a powerful and divisive political force. Organized into cells like the old communist party, few members outside of the leadership knew who members outside of their own small cell were; and tactics of infiltration of other organizations, especially universities and organizations such as Mensa, gave it influence far greater than its numbers justified. An additional problem was that the racial views of the organization had become increasingly attractive to many in the working class, with rumors the colony's agricultural work force in particular was heavily infiltrated by Johnsonite ideas.

  The screening of potential colonists had attempted to eliminate members of the Johnsonites and other divisive groups, but apparently had not been completely successful. The first concrete evidence of their presence in the colony had been when one of the engineering staff, Tom Jamison, had joined, and then reconsidered. Bringing the information to Carter, Colin had just recently been informed. The only person identified as a member by Jamison had been his contact, Mark Cohn. All they could do for now was to be on the alert; Jamison had agreed to remain a member of the cult and report anything he found out to Carter.

  Colin's resolution had hardened. He was sure John was not above using the Johnsonites, or any other group, to further his views, and the last thing he needed now was this problem with John. He had other worries, not the least was the lack of information on the expedition to the south. The last clear message they had received was in late November after a delay of several days without contact. Since then they had heard nothing except some occasional static, as if transmission was being tried, but a few days later even that had stopped. According to their last intelligible message they had gotten through the jungle successfully and were climbing up to the savanna. They had reported seeing no Torgai or any recent signs. Since then they had heard nothing.

  CHAPTER 19: Torgai Emissaries

  (December 10, Year 2): Autumn had drifted slowly into early winter while the small group made its way toward New Athens, and now, as they neared their goal, the light breeze from the west brought the faint tang of the ocean. The cool days and even cooler nights made travel easy, and making traveling pleasanter was the absence of the biting insects of summer. They had been on the trail for over three weeks and few problems had been encountered. Because of Barco's litter bearers the pace had been leisurely; at least leisurely for the Torgai, but still a fast pace for Eric. They would have been at New Athens by now had not an unseasonable storm in the high mountains made the tributary that blocked their path to the savanna impassable, and they had camped on its banks for three days waiting for the torrent to recede. But, they were really in no hurry, and Barco could use the rest from his exertions at the council which had taken more out of him than he cared to admit.

  Up to now, at Eric's suggestion, they had largely either traveled at night or followed tree cover or the numerous ravines to avoid detection, since he wanted to avoid any sudden encounters which could lead to problems; and as they neared the coast the land had become
more and more open, increasing the chance of being sighted by the occasional scout plane. After what Eric had learned of the confrontation at the island he had no idea what posture the colony was taking, and he wanted to avoid contact until their friendly intent could be made clear. Usually starting at sunset and traveling until dawn they had nearly always been able to find wooded areas to rest in during the day where they could either sleep or, if careful, take part in limited hunting. After they crossed the ridge ahead, New Athens would be in full view, and so would they tomorrow when they made their final approach.

  Shortly after midnight they reached the cover provided by the tree-bordered creek that flowed into New Athens Bay and camped for the balance of the night and through most of the day. Eric wanted to arrive at New Athens in mid-afternoon when most people would be busy; he felt this would minimize the element of surprise. Now they had left the cover of the sheltering trees and were nearing the top of the rise, the group spreading out and moving more cautiously through the dried grass. Motioning the carriers to lower Barco to the ground as they reached the crest, they lay in a ragged line looking down at New Athens approximately a kilometer away.

  New Athens had grown in the nearly year and a half that Eric had been gone; when he left only the modules from the starships had been in place, arranged as a circle left incomplete by the modules lost in the landing accident. Now the area inside that circle contained a number of buildings which Eric assumed were living quarters; at least they had windows, which the modules largely lacked. The fields surrounding the town were empty of people except for some equipment at work removing bales of hay for storage. In the distance figures could be seen moving among the buildings, and far in the distance the Argonaught could be picked out by its wake, which contrasted with the dark blue water. One of the scout planes could be seen far to the south.