Rubicon Crossing

by Ralph Prince

  Don watched silently as Dillon stormed from the room, wondering all the while which of the two was right. Could the Tants be reasoned with, or were they animals as Dillon had claimed? Silently weighing his options, he sought out Karen in the crowd, and slowly made his way toward her.

  CHAPTER 4: Home, Sweet Home

  Arm in arm, Karen and Don returned to the mess hall, where Jackie and Will continued rendering aid to those they could. At first hesitant to accept the assistance of the outsiders, the Underdwellers slowly grew accustomed to the strangers passing among them. Many were showing signs of returning vigor because of the outer-worlder’s assistance.

  “You’ve done so much for them,” Karen said, affectionately tightening her embrace. “We are all grateful.”

  “Not all of you,” Don said, still troubled by his conversation with Dillon. There had to be an alternative to destroying the Tants.

  “I don’t understand,” Karen said, having detected the bitterness in his tone. “What did you mean by that?”

  “Never mind,” he replied, feigning a smile and returning the hug. “It’s not important.”

  Apparently satisfied with the answer, Karen returned her attention to the crowded room as Will hurriedly approached them. His hair was matted with sweat, and dirt smudges streaked his face.

  “Captain,” the lieutenant said eagerly, “where have you been? You just vanished. I’ve been trying to contact Iva, but I can’t get through.”

  “I talked Karen into giving me a tour of the caves,” he replied. “I found some rather interesting things.”

  “Oh?” asked Will, intrigued to find out more about the people he had been helping. “Like what, for instance?”

  “This complex,” Don said, making a sweeping motion with his hand. “It’s really quite remarkable. It’s huge; maybe fifty thousand square meters. They have entire rooms of hydroponic gardens fed with nutrient-rich water from their waste reclamation system. The complex is heated with geothermal vents, and has advanced, if non-functional, plumbing fixtures. The air is being recycled, probably in some sort of photosynthesis chamber. I’m not sure what this place’s original function was, but it’s not like any bunker I’ve ever heard of. It’s more like the bio-structures they set up on planets with non-breathable atmospheres. It’s nearly a self-sufficient closed system. They must have known what was coming and this place was built to withstand it. I wasn’t able to find a power center though; that must be on another level.”

  “Another level?” Will asked, having neither seen nor heard anything to indicate there was more than the one.

  “Yes,” Karen replied. “Donald thinks there may be several other levels below this one.”

  “I think this was just the living level,” the commander continued. “I found a lift off one of the tunnels, but the control panel has been dismantled. Not that it would do a lot of good without a power source.”

  “Maybe we could cut through with our photon blasters,” Will suggested. “Then we could climb down and—”

  “No,” Don interrupted. “It’s a security door, and is likely too thick for our blasters; we would need rifles or cutting equipment. Besides, I’m not sure that would be wise considering Dillon’s reaction to my blaster earlier. Whatever’s down there can wait, so let’s keep this quiet for now. These people seem to be doing all right for the time being.”

  “Most of the problem is malnutrition,” Will said, having treated many of the cases by passing out ration-tabs. “You should see some of the stuff they eat down here. They even kill animals and eat them.”

  “We breed small animals for food,” Karen explained.

  “Yeah,” said Don. “Interestingly, they seem to be mainly rats and rabbits; two more life-forms we’ve never encountered anywhere but Earth.”

  “How can this planet be so nearly identical to ours,” Will pondered. “If the atmosphere was a little thicker and there was more surface water, it could be Earth’s twin.”

  “That reminds me,” Don said, producing a small bottle of pink-tinted liquid from a pouch in his belt. “What do you make of this?”

  Taking the container, the lieutenant opened it and smelled the contents. Raising an eyebrow, he held it up to the light and shook it slightly. “I have no idea. What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Don said, shrugging his shoulders, “but it’s leaking through a crack in one of the outer walls, and Karen says it’s their water supply.”

  “Yes,” Karen confirmed. “The water for our plants tastes bad and makes us sick if we drink it. Other than some plant juices, this is all we could find. There’s not much, but we get enough to survive.”

  Dipping his finger into the liquid, Will gingerly tasted it, and reacted with a grimace of disgust. “This is nasty!”

  “I think it’s some kind of insulating liquid,” Don theorized. “All of the outer walls are cool and damp, and my portable scanner indicates readings identical to this beyond them. The entire complex appears to be surrounded by it. That’s probably why we can’t contact the ship. It’s also slightly radioactive; probably due to whatever happened on the surface.”

  “Radioactive!” Will exclaimed, spitting repeatedly.

  “Don’t worry,” Don said, laughing at the lieutenant’s reaction. “It’s low level. These people have been drinking it for years, and it hasn’t killed any of them.”

  “I guess not,” Will said sheepishly, embarrassed by his reaction. “Aside from being malnourished, Jackie says everyone she’s examined is in excellent health. There’s no sign of disease, which she said was unusual considering the crowding down here. Oh, and you won’t believe this, we couldn’t find anyone with a navel, or so much as a scar. They all seem to regenerate as fast as Karen does.”

  “Donald,” Karen asked quietly, having tried to understand their conversation and failed. “What does ‘radioactive’ mean?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s kind of hard to explain, and not really important.”

  Somewhat disappointed, Karen nodded and nestled her head into his shoulder. She silently wished she knew more than she did. There was so much she wanted to learn.

  “I guess I should get back to Jackie,” Will said, tucking the vial into a pouch on his belt and slowly backing away. “If you need me to taste-test anything else, I’ll be around somewhere.”

  Nodding in acknowledgment, Don redirected his attention to Karen. Nudging her lightly, he cocked his head to peer into her downcast eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I’m just tired,” she replied, averting her eyes. “It’s not important.”

  “Hey,” Don said, gently cupping her chin in his hand and redirecting her gaze toward him. “You’ve never lied to me before. Why are you doing it now? Did I say something to upset you?”

  “No, it’s just that…” she paused, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”

  “I just want to help,” he said softly, brushing her golden hair back from her eyes. “That’s what friends are for. We are still friends, aren’t we?”

  “I’m stupid,” Karen replied, starting to pull away from him. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Nonsense,” Don said, pulling her gently back into his embrace. “You’re one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met. You even impressed Iva with your learning ability. What makes you think you’re stupid?”

  “I don’t understand anything,” she sobbed. “I always have to ask you questions because I’m too stupid to know the answers.”

  “That doesn’t make you stupid,” Don insisted, wiping away the tear that trickled down her delicate cheeks. “It just means you haven’t had a chance to learn everything you want to know yet. Asking questions is the best way to learn, and it shows you want to learn. Just think about how stupid you would really be if you never asked any questions.”

  Leaning her head against his chest, she tightened her grip upon him. “You keep telling me things aren’t important, and I know they are. Why?”

&nbs
p; “You’re right,” he admitted. “I avoid some of your questions because I don’t want you to worry. I’m just trying to protect you. I don’t mind your questions, but I don’t always have the answers. I guess that makes me a little stupid.”

  “I don’t think you’re stupid, Donald,” she said, drying the last of the tears with her sleeve.

  Smiling at her, and prompting a smile in return, he kissed her lightly on the forehead. “So, we agree neither of us is stupid. Feel better now?” he asked.

  “I’m still a little tired,” she replied. “I wasn’t lying earlier; I just didn’t tell all of the truth.”

  “Sometimes,” he said, “that can be just as bad.”

  CHAPTER 5: A Call to Arms

  Don sat against a wall near one of the room’s many entrances, while Karen slept peacefully in the security of his tender embrace. Throughout the room, the Underdwellers huddled in small groups and spoke among themselves in hushed tones. Frequent gawks and gestures were directed toward the earthman.

  His eyes stared blankly ahead as waves of helplessness washed over him. He could relieve their hunger for a day, maybe a week. With the supplies in the Nova’s cargo hold, they could survive for months, but he could do nothing to reverse the damage that had already been done. Even killing the Tants, as Dillon had suggested, would not bring back those who had died of starvation, nor would it restore the shattered spirits of people who had lived knowing nothing but fear and repression.

  “Donald?” a voice called to him. It seemed so distant, yet somehow familiar.

  “Donald?” it repeated, sounding closer and clearer. It was Karen’s voice.

  “I’m sorry, Karen,” he apologized, giving her a reassuring hug. “I was lost in thought. I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was,” she replied. “I had a dream about my parents. I dreamt they were still alive, and that they met you.”

  “Did they like me?” he asked, brushing her hair back from her eyes.

  “Of course they did,” she said, smiling. “They liked you very much.”

  “You never told me,” Don said. “How did your parents die?”

  “My father was a hunter,” she began. “Most of the men are. He died when I was young. All I really remember about him is he had yellow hair, like Dillon’s. He was killed by the Tants when he tried to steal food from them.” Her expression saddened as she continued. “My mother took care of Dillon and me after that. Stanton helped when he could; he and my father were friends. Dillon was almost old enough to hunt when she died. I was still just a girl, but I remember her; she was very pretty. We were told she grew ill and died, but I found out later she starved herself to death so some of the children wouldn’t go hungry. I don’t think Dillon knows.”

  Don brushed away the single tear that rolled down her cheek, and silently cursed himself for asking such a thoughtless question.

  “I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories,” he apologized. “I would never deliberately do anything to hurt you.”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” she said, a weak smile forcing its way through the tears. “I often think about my parents, and it doesn’t hurt as much if I have someone to talk to. Thank you for listening, and for caring. You’ve done so much for me and my people.”

  “I haven’t done enough,” he said, once again recalling his conversation with Dillon.

  “You’ve done more than anyone else ever has,” she insisted, lightly stroking his face with her feather-soft fingers.

  “You continue to amaze me,” he said. “You and all of your people are living in an impossible situation. On Earth, people have killed each other for scraps of food and fought over imaginary lines drawn in the sand. Yet you seem to work together with no apparent political structure, just a few willing to step up and lead when needed. Those who have extra food share with those who have none, asking nothing in return. In all my travels, I’ve never seen anything like it.” He leaned toward her and touched his lips to her soft, fragrant hair.

  “I love you,” she whispered, closing her eyes once again, “and I know when you’re near me, I will be safe from all harm.”

  “I love you too,” he responded, wishing the situation were different; wishing they could have a future together. “The Tants will come,” he stated.

  “I know,” she said. “I brought them here.”

  “No,” Don disagreed. “I did. I’ll make it right,” he said with conviction. “I’m not sure how, but I will.”

  “I know you will,” Karen said.

  Don swallowed the lump that rose to his throat as he caught sight of Will making his way among the huddled masses toward them.

  Leaning against the wall and sliding down its length to the floor, the young lieutenant’s head sagged forward in exhaustion.

  “Where’s Jackie?” Don asked, not having seen her in several hours.

  “Sleeping,” Will replied, pointing toward a lone figure curled up in a blanket in the corner of the room. “The exhaustion finally got to her. Why aren’t you asleep?”

  “I have a lot on my mind,” the captain said, once again glancing over the roomful of people.

  “Me too,” Will said, following the captain’s gaze. “They’re scared. The Tants know where they live now, and they’re afraid they’ll attack soon.”

  “They’re right,” Don said. “This place isn’t the ideal battleground. The only real advantage is it only has one entrance; and that will limit the number that can come in at once. If the battle goes against us, it also means we can’t retreat. I really don’t think we can hold it.”

  “Surely, with our photon blasters—” Will suggested.

  “We may be able to stop a hundred,” Don interrupted, “or maybe a thousand. But how many of them are there? I can’t even get in touch with Iva to find out. They want me to lead them into battle, but I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Will asked. “You’re a great commander, and you always seem to beat the odds. At least that’s what Jackie says.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Don said, shaking his head. “I could give them the Saint Crispin’s Day speech and tell them that stories will be told for generations of how we few so bravely fended off so many, but that’s not going to happen. The Underdwellers are foragers and scavengers while the Tants are predators and organized hunters. Leading them would be like sending a herd of rabbits against a pack of wolves; all we would get is a bunch of dead rabbits with no one left to tell the stories of how we fought with honor and glory. We can’t win this war. We need to find an alternative to fighting.”

  “Don’t worry, Karen,” Will said, seeing the mortified expression on her face, “the captain has a reputation as a miracle worker. We’ll get through this.”

  “Mister?” a timid voice asked.

  Looking upward, Don saw a lean young boy, perhaps ten years of age, standing before him. He wore nothing but rags, and few of those. His bright, youthful eyes looked out from a gaunt, dirt smudged face.

  “Are you going to kill the Tants?” the boy asked.

  Momentarily shocked by the boy’s appearance, Don stared silently at him. Despite his frail appearance, the boy seemed to radiate an aura of strength. With a feeble smile, Don replied. “Not unless I have to. Lives should never be taken without reason.”

  “The Tants do it,” the boy said.

  “Come here,” Don said, motioning him forward. “What’s your name?”

  “The boy has no name,” a stern voice said from off to one side. It was easily recognizable as Dillon’s.

  Rising to his feet, and aiding Karen to hers, the captain fixed his attention firmly upon the Underdweller.

  “He is an orphan,” Dillon continued, approaching the boy and ruffling his long, course, soiled hair. “He was found in the ruins a few years ago, cold and starving. He is damaged. He spends much of his time staring at nothing, and does not seem to hear when he is spoken to. He rarely talks, and much of what he says makes no sense. He lives only through the kindness of others. Becau
se of the Tants, that is the way many of us survive.”

  “Sir,” Will said nervously, pointing out to the commander that the rest of the Underdwellers were creeping closer. From the hallways leading from the room, small bands of men began to appear.

  “I wish to speak more about what we discussed earlier,” Dillon said, turning away from the child. “Have you reconsidered?”

  “There’s nothing more to discuss,” Don stated bluntly. “I will help in any way I can, but I will not exterminate the Tants without at least trying to reason with them first.”

  “You cannot reason with the Tants,” Dillon said, attempting to retain an even tone. “They are probably on their way here even as we speak.”

  The crowded room was immediately filled with a low murmur.

  “No,” Don disagreed. “It will take them time to organize. They won’t attack until tomorrow night at the earliest.”

  “If not for us,” Dillon pleaded, looking toward his sister, then toward the boy, “then do it for Karen, and our children. Don’t let them die when you have the power to save them. You have weapons superior to anything I have ever seen. Use them to destroy the Tants.”

  “Killing is not the right way,” Don protested, his anger reflected in the tone and volume of his voice.

  “Killing is the only way!” Dillon responded, the volume of his voice exceeding the captain’s.

  “On our world,” Don said, regaining his composure, “we were threatened by an enemy we had never met. They came into our territory and began killing, seemingly without reason or provocation. They fought with superior numbers and weapons, and all who opposed them fell. Countless innocent people died. The first people they attacked called them Quillan, which in their language means ‘bringer of death’. We later discovered the Quillans attacked us because we were different than them, and they wanted what we had. They wanted the things we might have shared with them had they simply asked. All those lives could have been spared. The Tants may look different than you, but ultimately, they probably want the same thing you do; to survive on this forsaken world. That doesn’t make them evil. True, I have weapons that may be able to kill all the Tants, but I will not use them for that purpose. We will help you defend your homes if it comes to that, but I will not be the bringer of death.”