The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle

by John Thornton

  “They are picky about that,” Gretchen laughed. “It was quite nice of Matthew to give us his fish drier so we could try that.”

  “Was it nice? Or was it so he got a free supply of dried fish with no work?” Paul muttered. “Rodgeeri set up that arrangement as well. ‘In exchange for ten percent of all future dried fish, Matthew will rent you his dehydrator and smoker’.” Paul mocked the Trade Master’s voice.

  Gretchen laughed. “Well Matthew did come and teach you how to use it, and he set it up, and he was very nice about it. And he brought those mesh traps for the other things.”

  “Yes, you are right. And he did show me where I messed up with the last batch. Those other things do give us something for trade; I can hardly believe anyone would eat them. They are so ugly.”

  “But they are natural, right?” Gretchen laughed. She fondly remembered the last food ration bar she had. The Free Rangers had called the food ration ‘unnatural’ and ‘strange’ even though she and Paul had eaten food ration bars their entire lives in Dome 17. To Gretchen and Paul, the natural food was what was strange.

  Neither she nor Paul were good at these ‘natural things’ as the Free Rangers called them. However, they were trying, some days more diligently than others. In addition to the fish dehydrator, the mesh traps, and other gear for collecting the sea animals, they had a small garden planted, and the two ‘domesticated’ animals that roamed around. These were evidence Paul and Gretchen were trying to cope and making attempts to fit in.

  “Remember when all we had to do to eat was walk to the cafetorium and get our food and water ration? Now I have to lower the bridge, follow the trail down from the plateau, then bring in the mesh traps, or nets, and hope some stupid and ugly thing got snagged in that. Then I have to sort them by good ones and bad ones, and I am still not sure about all that. For drying I have to cut it up, put it in the fish dryer, and then wait. When it is done it still tastes funny. Or I can keep waiting for some food to grow from the dirt. That is perhaps even weirder. I just never considered how hard it was just to have food to eat. I sure wish we had the food processors of Dome 17.”

  “I miss Dome 17 too,” Gretchen lamented. “I wonder whatever happened to all those people? Do you think they are better off then we are?”

  Paul did not know how to answer, so instead he changed the subject back. “I hope this batch of dried fish works better.”

  Gretchen laughed. “There is always the goat you can milk, right?”

  “That beast? I would have to catch it first. Then you, Gretchen, would have to hold it steady for me. I am still upset at Rodgeeri for convincing me that a, ‘pair of goats are just what you need to become true ranchers’.” Paul again imitated the Trade Master’s voice. “That male goat just took off, and the female, well, I see her sometimes, but cannot catch her at all. They run faster than anything else on Inaccessible Island.”

  “Or we could cook those other sea things, right?” Gretchen laughed again. “The ones with all the legs.”

  “No. Those other things we will trade, but do not make me even think of eating one.”

  “Well, I will call Brinley when I get back with the water, and see if she is going to be around. She may be on a trading mission somewhere,” Gretchen answered.

  “Shall I try Tiffany?” Paul asked, just as he did every morning and every night. Paul placed the communication system onto his ear.

  “Yes,” Gretchen said. She really hoped that today they could reconnect with the artificial intelligence system, Tiffany.

  “Tiffany? Tiffany? Can you please respond?” Paul asked as he used the com link.

  Just as there had been for many days, there was still no response. Paul could see in his mind’s eye the scout ship anchored to the hull of the Vanguard. Inside was the Atomic Level Processor which housed Tiffany. He tried to mentally force a connection by shear will power, but nothing happened. He sincerely hoped the ALP was still functioning and it was just a communication snafu which prevented them from interacting with Tiffany.

  “I have my com link on. I will get the water now.” Gretchen stepped out of the tent.

  “I will go and check the mesh traps and gets some of those things ready to take to the Free Rangers. I will also check to see if the dried fish are ready.” Paul grabbed his backpack and he too slipped out of the tent and walked along the slight path they had made through the grasses. Call me on the com link if you need anything from the beach. It is a long walk there and back and those other things get heavy.”

  “Do you want me to come and carry some?” Gretchen asked.

  “No, I have that box Matthew supplied. He gives me the box, but I have to carry it up and down from the beach,” Paul complained.

  Gretchen kissed Paul and then grabbed a bucket by its handle and walked off toward the stream which flowed across the plateau and then down the steep cliffs to the sea.

  Paul strolled along following the course of the stream, his empty backpack on, the carry box swinging on his arm. He had learned that going with the flow of water was aptly called downstream, and that applied very well to the stream here. He could already hear the sounds of the waterfall. For when the stream reached the edge of the cliff, the water went down rapidly. The drop was not exactly vertical, just a steep incline. The waterfall cascaded down to a set of rocks about fifty meters below. That was where there was a pool of water gathered. That pool flowed over its edge and the water went down another waterfall At each set of rocks was a similar pool which then had another smaller and shorter stream which led to the next waterfall and the pool and the next stream. There were six levels of waterfalls like that. While each pool was similar in structure, the things around the pools were very different. The flowers, plants, tiny flying animals, insects, and even the small fish in each pool seemed different. Paul wanted to ask Tiffany to consult the AI’s data base, but without contact that was impossible. The final stream flowed right across the white sandy beach to the sea.

  The trail led down the cliff in a series of cut backs which were molded into the rocky front of the cliff. The slope was easy to walk, but took time. Most of the trail was to the side of the waterfalls, away from the spray of water. However, at the third pool up, the trail led across a bridge behind the waterfall itself.

  The bridge spanned a crevasse which was fifteen meters wide. The bridge was wide enough for three people to walk side by side easily, however, the bridge also retracted back and into the cliff when needed. Some of the Free Rangers called retracting the bridge, “raising it” but to Paul that phrase seemed inappropriate. The Free Rangers had taught Paul and Gretchen the code to use on the bridge’s control post, but there had not been need to use it. At least not since that time when the minstrels had been on the island and everyone had had to flee from the CPO troops who had come to the island. Disconnecting the bridge did make the plateau of the island nearly inaccessible.

  Paul patted the control post with its nine sectioned color pad as he walked out onto the permalloy bridge. The bridge was always dim, as the waterfall spilled out in front of it. The sounds of the water were still amazing to Paul and the sight of so much water pouring out was a wonder. Paul doubted if he would ever get used to such vast quantities of water as the stream, waterfalls, and the sea demonstrated to him. There were even days when water fell from the sky, it what he knew was called, rain. He was thankful it was not snow.

  Finishing his hike down to the beach, Paul looked at the fish dryer Matthew had supplied them. Matthew was very talkative, but much of what he said was too detailed with complex stories about specifics of the types of fish, their histories, and things like that. Matthew was part of the service personnel at the Free Rangers safe zone. Paul finally convinced him to just make the instructions very simple. Often Paul wished that Matthew the Free Ranger from the Vanguard could have met John the Biologist from Dome 17. Paul knew he would never again see John or anyone else, except Gretchen, from Dome 17.

  So Paul checked the fish drier. He took
out about ten kilograms of dried fish. These looked better, or at least more like Matthew had said they should look. So Paul shrugged off his backpack, and then carefully loaded in the dried fish.

  He looked out over the sandy beach toward the sea. It was still a frightful and amazing sight to see so much water. Neither he nor Gretchen had actually ventured into the water, despite both Brinley’s and Matthew’s insistence that what they called swimming was fun. Paul had seen the creatures that live in that water, while he was in the transparent corridor, and he did not want to see them up close. The fish and the those other things were bad enough.

  So bringing the box with him, he walked with a bit of anxiety to the shoreline where the mesh traps were anchored. He squatted down and filled the box with a bit of the sea water. Then, stepping onto the large flat rocks which lined the beach, he pulled at the rope on the first mesh trap.

  The trap came up from the water, and it indeed had one of those things in it. He carefully pulled the trap up and tipped it toward the box. There was a mesh collar at the opening of the trap which would spring open when he wanted to dump the thing out and into the box.

  He pulled the cord as he positioned the trap and the collar opened and the thing flopped down into the box. It was dark purplish color with some rusty colored highlights in a sort of stripped pattern. It had ten stick-like legs and two large clampers as its front arms. Its armored body was tough looking and had a segmented tail. It was totally weird in appearance. This one was about thirty centimeters long and weighed less than two kilograms. It was about the right size, according to Matthew for trading. It moved around a little bit in the water in the bottom of the box.

  Paul pulled in the next trap and it was empty.

  The third one had another of the things in it. This one was more red colored, and a bit bigger than the purplish one. One of the clampers on this bigger thing was missing.

  “I wonder how that happened?” Paul asked as he dumped the thing in with the other one. “Did some other even worse predator try to eat this one?”

  The fourth mesh trap got stuck a bit as Paul was pulling it in. He had to walk down the rocks a ways and pull at it from a different angle, but it finally came up as well. This one had two of the things in it. A deep rusty colored one, and another reddish one. The reddish one had some black colors on its hard armor. Getting then dumped out of the mesh trap was a bit tricky, as the red one kept grabbing the mesh with its clampers. Paul was diligent to keep his fingers and hands away from where those clampers could get hold of him. Finally, the two things flopped into the box. Paul looked close at one as it landed.

  Its head, if your could call it that, had something that might be antennae, antennules, or stalks for eyes. Paul was unsure what the things coming off really were. What he assumed as a mouth of some kind had mandibles, or teeth or something like that. Paul was repulsed and stopped looking so closely.

  Paul gazed out over the sea, and his heart tightened for a minute. If one of those big sea animals came up, he had no defense. Something had taken the clamper off the thing he had caught. If it could do that, Paul imagined it could take off his arm, easily. Gretchen had the Willie pistol back at the tent. Then Paul chided himself for fearing some unknown monsters, but a glance at the things in the box made him shudder just a bit. “If one of these things grows as big as that goat, well it would be the end of me.”

  The fifth mesh trap came up easily and had another thing in it. This one was purplish orange with black stripes, and was the biggest of all he had caught, being about 40 centimeters long. He dumped it into box and shut the lid.

  He hoisted the box, and it was not too heavy, even with the things and the water in it. Setting it down again, he pushed a button on the side of the box and heard the lufi-amalgum batteries activate a cooling system. The things would stay cool and alive until he took them to the Free Rangers.

  “Why anyone would eat these things is beyond me,” Paul muttered to himself, “But at least I can trade them for something we need.”

  Paul looked at the traps and considered tossing them back out, but that would mean putting some dead fish in it and then heaving them out. Throwing them in always made Paul worry about falling in himself, besides, he was unsure when he would need to trade again, and so he left the mesh traps sitting on the beach.

  As he walked back up the trail, backpack cinched in place and carrying the box with the things in it, he wondered again about Tiffany. The artificial intelligence system was their only real source of information, since the data sticks did not work. Brinley had been working on fixing the data sticks, but so far she had had no better success than Paul or Gretchen.

  Paul retracted the bridge, or ‘pulled it up’ as some of the Free Rangers called it. He did not know how long they would be gone and wanted to keep Inaccessible Island, inaccessible.

  Back at the tent, Paul put down his burdens.

  “So are we ready?” Gretchen asked.

  “Yes. I think the dried fish worked, and I got five of those things,” Paul replied.

  “I sealed up the tent, and secured everything we are not taking.” Gretchen patted the Willie’s pistol on her hip. “I know we have been told there are no dangerous animals here, but I am not so sure. There also might be some people who can get here somehow. Maybe Feegin the Thief?” She chuckled a bit.

  “It looks secure,” Paul replied.

  Indeed, the tent was folded down and secured to the ground. It could not be seen from a distance, as the grasses hid it well, and to unlock it or pull it up would take monumental efforts.

  Paul and Gretchen walked up the gravel trail to where the freight elevator’s dome was located. Gretchen entered the access code and the petals of the dome pealed back so they could enter the elevator.

  3 hide, run, hope

  “Momma, that is a Roe?” Zoya asked.

  “Yes.” Eleonora placed her hand over Zoya’s mouth. It was an unnecessary move for Zoya had spoken in a low voice, barely a whisper.

  Down the hallway, a figure came staggering along. “A caramelized molasses aftertaste!” The figure was yelling.

  The Roe stopped. It had once been a human female, but was now a Roe. The remains of a habitat jumpsuit, probably for an agricultural specialist, hung on the skinny and scarred frame of the Roe. The jumpsuit was missing one entire pant leg, and was shredded and frayed in many other places. The skin of the Roe was crisscrossed with old and new scars. In its hand was a broken metal table leg. It scratched that along the side wall of the hallway. It looked in various directions, but did not seem to see Eleonora or Zoya where they hid. Its bright orange eyes darted back and forth in a restless search. Drool dripped form one corner of its mouth as it wailed. “A caramelized molasses aftertaste!” It then departed down one of the other corridors.

  Eleonora and Zoya waited. Finally, in a small voice, Eleonora said, “The danger is immense. We must be very smart and very careful my daughter. I will work hard to get you to a safe zone.” Eleonora stepped out from the doorway to Exterior Repair Station V-2210. “Be quiet, the Roe are drawn to loud noises and may come back.”

  “A caramelized molasses aftertaste!” the voice echoed in the corridor, but sounded further away.

  Zoya and her mother crept out of the doorway and scooted down the hall away from the Roe’s calling.

  “Remember, keep watch for an ESRC, or other place for supplies, and stay close to me,” Eleonora said. “We do not have time to check every room, but if you see some tools, we should take them.”

  “Yes, momma.”

  They passed many darkened rooms with the doors open, but Eleonora feared the danger of getting trapped in a dark room with a Roe, so she continued to lead them through the hallways where there was at least some light. She tried to keep to the route she had learned from the control chair’s display, but it was difficult. Many other doors were closed, and they did not try to open those, for fear of what lay beyond them.

  Then Eleonora reached a small door in the
wall of the hallway which was different from the rest. It had stenciled lettering on it, ‘Access Ladder’ so Eleonora pulled it open. She was thankful it did not squeal or squeak when it opened. Behind it was a shaft with a ladder. “Now we go up two decks. The route to the hanger bay I saw showed the shortest way was on that level. Let us hope it is also the best way.”

  The ladder shaft was lit by a dull amber glow. They climbed to the next level up. There they found a steel door already open. Eleonora looked carefully out from the shaft. The hallway was moderately lit, with occasional flickering lights. Large pipes ran along the opposite wall. There did not seem to be any signs of Roe or other life.

  “One more deck up, and then we walk to the hanger bay. It will still be some distance away. Perhaps it will even be a Free Ranger safe zone.”

  “Momma? Would it be helpful to get into the actual habitat here?” Zoya asked.