She recognized the woman, Ruthi, beside her. They’d talked a few times over their meals. She was shivering under her blanket, too.
“We’re not going to get warm standing back here,” Gwin said. “Why don’t we both lay on your bed and use the two blankets for cover. Our body heat should keep us warm.”
The woman looked longingly at the fire, then nodded. They went to her bunk and laid back to front pulling the two blankets over their heads. Because they were wet it took a long time for their heat to dry their clothes enough for them to stop shivering.
* * *
When the rain began at the village, the evening meal was half-cooked. Some of the prisoners waited for it to be finished, but the rain and wind soon forced the cooking to be abandoned. The prisoners grabbed whatever food, cooked or raw, they could and ran for their beds. Some picked up burning logs while others grabbed wood from the pile and carried them to the buildings. Soon there were fires in all the dormitories. Georg went into the police barracks and found some lighters in a desk drawer. He went to Jawn’s dormitory.
“Get your blanket and follow me,” he said.
Jawn looked to where several small fires were burning. The rain made the flames sizzle and spit and the wind blew them in all directions. The men crowded around them trying for a little warmth. Some held blankets over themselves to keep the snow off.
“We should stay here by the fires,” he said.
“They won’t last long in this rain.”
“Where are we going then?” Jawn asked grabbing his blanket.
“I noticed during the last storm that the ground in the forest didn’t get as wet as the open areas did. I think the branches of the trees work as a canopy.”
Georg led Jawn to the woodpile and they loaded some split logs and some kindling from the bottom of the pile in their arms. They hurried into the bush looking for a dry spot. With the falling of the leaves the trees offered little cover from the rain. But there were different types of trees and they found one that had needles instead of leaves. They piled the wood under it and Jawn stood with his back to the wind so that Georg could coax the smouldering kindling into a flame. When it was burning they slowly added more wood to make it bigger. Then while Georg watched it Jawn ran back to the woodpile for more.
When the flakes started falling they stared at them in wonder.
“What are they?” Jawn asked.
Georg captured some in his fist but when he opened it, there was just water. “I think this might be snow. Don’t you remember learning about white stuff that once fell on our planet?”
Jawn nodded his head. “Our ancestors used to ski on it. But how can you be sure it’s the same?”
Georg shrugged.
They watched as the flakes piled up on the ground outside the range of their tree branches.
“I don’t think I want to go out in that,” Jawn said.
Georg put his foot in the snow then drew it back out leaving a footprint. “It’s cold, but it didn’t hurt.”
Slowly the snow filled in the print until it was gone. The mounds around the tree grew higher.
“We’re going to need more wood,” George said. “I think we should get it before this stuff gets too high.”
Jawn stared sceptically at the snow. “I still think it’s unsafe.”
“Then you stay here and watch the fire while I go.”
Georg left the shelter of the tree. The snow was cold to step in with his bare feet and he hurried towards the village and the woodpile. He could see through the doorways of one of the dormitories. The prisoners were trying to keep their fires going. The blankets they held continually filled with the snowflakes and had to be dumped.
There wasn’t much wood left in the pile and there was a constant line of prisoners dashing for more. Georg made three trips before the pile was exhausted. He hoped if they kept the fire small enough, the wood would last the night. They leaned against the tree with their legs drawn up taking turns sleeping and tending the fire.
Chapter Eleven
Sometime during the night the snow stopped. When morning arrived Gwin felt a weight on her. She lifted her arm and some of the weight fell off. She pushed the blanket off her head and stared at the white mound that surrounded the bed. She knocked some more off the blankets and watched as it fell in a clump, making a depression in the snow on the dirt floor. The stuff was fluffy but easily squashed.
The fires had gone out and the prisoners had climbed into their beds. Many had followed Gwin and Ruthi’s example and doubled up for extra warmth. Around her there was movement as many of the other prisoners awakened. Some moaned and groaned as they tried to move their cold arms and legs. They lowered their feet into the snow then pulled them back again.
But there was nothing they could do. They had to go outside. Gwin looked up as the clouds passed and the sun shone again. She sat up and placed her feet in the snow. It was numbing and she hated to go out. If only she had something to wrap around her feet. She pulled her blanket around her shoulders and left the building.
Outside, everything—the streets, the trees, the buildings—was white. There were white humps where the stoves stood and the cooking pits were full. They’d all missed their meal last night and it didn’t look as if they would be eating anytime soon.
The police and the guards from the Federer had left their posts around the warehouses during the night. Once again, the shivering, hungry prisoners headed in that direction.
* * *
Governor Lind stared out the view screen of the spaceship. She didn’t know what to make of the white ground. Accompanied by Police Chief Curt and two police officers she went to the outside door. As soon as it open, cold air surrounded them.
“Close it,” she commanded.
They all went to their rooms and pulled on some extra clothes, then with Curt carrying a bucket, they stepped out of the ship. Immediately a white stream, like smoke, poured from their mouths.
“It must have something to do with the cold,” Curt said.
She nodded then bent to feel the white stuff. It was cold to the touch. She picked some up and sniffed it. There was no smell. She scooped some up in the bucket and carried it back to the command room. As she watched though, the stuff slowly disappeared to be replaced with a small amount of water.
She looked at Curt who only shrugged his shoulders. “The only thing I can think of to compare it to is the snow that used to fall on our planet before the bump.”
“The prisoners are probably ransacking the warehouses again,” she said. “You’d better get your men and the guards out there to protect whatever is left. And with this cold, you all should put on some extra clothing.”
Governor Lind watched the officers and guards cross the meadow and enter the trees. The historian, whom she admired for her diligence at recording everything that happened, followed them. As soon as the prisoners were controlled, she’d have to go out and make some sort of announcement. She didn’t know what to do. This snow and cold was totally unexpected and they were not prepared for it. She had more clothes she could put on but there was none for the prisoners. All that had been sent were the clothes they’d changed into when they first arrived. She knew they were cold and hungry but there was nothing she could do about it except try to control them and get some food prepared for them.
She doubted that the stoves or pits could be used so it was a matter of getting the prisoner cooks on board the Treachen to cook the meals. She just hoped the prisoners had patience to wait for them. Looking out at the white ground and knowing how cold it was out there she was glad that the Federer had been delayed in its proposed supply trip to Pidleon by a faulty fuel line, which finally had been fixed last night. She’d hate to be in the Government House right now.
* * *
Gwin returned to her bed. Even though they were on the next street, she could hear the yelling of the prisoners, the smashing of the doors, and the banging of the crates as they hit the ground. She didn’t want to t
ake part in the raid on the warehouses. The last time, like all the prisoners, she’d been hungry and cold and angry, and attacking the warehouses had helped alleviate all that. Today, she wasn’t as hungry and the sun shining through the open roof was enough to keep her warm. And she wasn’t angry anymore; she was scared.
When she and Royd had been here they hadn’t seen any of this snow. Of course, they hadn’t had time to fly over the whole planet but what they did see had been green and lush and warm and idyllic. She felt disappointed and slightly betrayed. She’d stood in front of the Leaders and begged them not to send the prisoners here because she hadn’t wanted its beauty spoiled. She’d been framed and sent to prison because of her stance. And now the planet had changed. The beauty was gone, replaced by cold, white snow. It was as if the planet had turned on her.
“Gwin, there you are,” Sari said from the doorway.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you cold?”
Sari nodded her head. “But I thought you could use some of my clothes and a pair of shoes.”
“Thanks.” Gwin pulled the clothes on over the ones she wore and slipped her feet into the shoes. They were a bit tight, but she didn’t mind. They kept the snow off her feet.
For the first time she noticed that the noise outside had changed. She couldn’t make out the words but there was a split in the sound of the voices. Some were raised in anger, some in fear.
“What’s happening?” Gwin asked walking to the doorway.
“The police and guards are trying to stop the prisoners from raiding the warehouses.”
“It didn’t work last time. Why are they trying it again?”
“Governor’s orders.”
They walked over to the next street and watched as the police and guards stood in a row by one of the warehouses and shot at the prisoners. As those prisoners fell, they shot the next ones who took their places. A few prisoners ran past Gwin and Sari to hide in their dormitories. But the street was surging with cold, hungry people and they wanted to be fed. And they were enraged. The police and guards had spent a comfortable night on the spaceship and had eaten until they were full and now they were trying to prevent the prisoners from feeding themselves.
The rakes, hoes, axes and the other tools were kept in locked sheds. Prisoners broke the locks and grabbed them. They passed them forward until the makeshift weapons were in the hands of the front row. The volume of protest rose. The prisoners had something to fight with and they stormed the police and guards.
Sheer numbers dictated that the prisoners would win. They surrounded the police and guards who formed a circle. They hacked with the hoes and rakes and threw the axes. As the front ones dropped to the trance guns, others grabbed their weapons and fought on.
Many of the police and guards were wounded and some fell. They quickly realized they wouldn’t be able to stop the prisoners and they began working their way towards the trees. Once there they broke into a run for the Federer followed by the prisoners.
* * *
Governor Lind left the command room and headed to her temporary apartment. She’d just closed the door when there was a knock. She opened it to find an agitated crewmember.
“The captain requests you return to the command room immediately.”
“What’s the matter?” she asked hurrying along the corridor.
The crewmember just shook his head.
“What is it?” she asked when she reached the command room.
“Look out there.”
Governor Lind turned to the view screen. The meadow was swarming with prisoners waving hoes and rakes and axes and trance guns. There was a small knot of police and guards trying to get to the spaceship. She watched as they were knocked down and beaten. The guards around the Federer shot their trance guns into the crowd but they did little to stop the prisoners and soon they, too, were overpowered and killed.
The prisoners rushed the ship and began pounding on its door and sides with their hands and tools.
“If they keep that up they could do serious damage to the ship,” the captain said.
“What do you suggest?” Governor Lind asked.
“We’d better lift off.”
“Won’t that kill some of them?”
“If we don’t, we’ll be killed ourselves.”
“Then we’d better get out of here.”
“Start the engines and lift off when ready,” the captain told his crew.
The engines rumbled to life and Governor Lind soon felt the sensation of lift-off. The fire from the engines burned the prisoners nearest the ship. Most died instantly but she saw others running, their clothes on fire.
“Don’t go too high,” she said. “I want to be able to see what is happening.”
She kept watch on the mob that stood in the meadow yelling and shaking their weapons and fists. And while she couldn’t hear their words she could see the anger and frustration on their faces.
Governor Lind went to the computer to compose a report for the Leaders. She wasn’t sure how to word it. So far, all her reports had been favourable, telling about the progress of the buildings, the planting and growth of the plants, the lovely weather they were having. She’d mentioned the rain but hadn’t said anything about the raid on the warehouses. How could she now say that the prisoners had rioted, killing the police and guards and storming the Federer? How would she tell them that she was in the spaceship hovering over the colony and that she felt their lives would be in danger if they landed again? How could she tell them there was no way to save the prisoners? With them being unrestrained, they wouldn’t have enough food to last until the Federer could make the round trip to Pidleon. And what would she say about the snow that had fallen overnight and covered everything, and the cold that had accompanied it?
Chapter Twelve
In the village, bodies lay in the streets. They had either been shot or the person had tripped in the push of the crowd. However they had fallen, all had been trampled to death by the thousands of feet of the mob that had disappeared into the trees in pursuit of the guards and police.
“What do you think is happening?” Sari asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to follow and find out.” They could still hear the yelling in the distance.
“I should go so I can record it.”
“I’d wait until they come back,” Gwin said. “They are probably still looking for revenge and they might turn on you because you’ve been staying on the ship.”
Suddenly they could hear engines starting and the Federer rose above the trees.
“Oh no,” Gwin cried. Her first thought was that her only hope of getting back home was leaving.
Sari stared, her mouth open. “They’re going to take off,” she whispered, fear in her voice. “They’re going to take off and leave me here.”
They watched as the ship hung in the air, making no move to fly away.
“Maybe not,” Gwin said hopefully. “Maybe they just had to get away from the mob.”
“But, if the prisoners stay there, how will the ship land again?”
“I don’t know.”
They continued to watch, their minds in turmoil. If it left, what would happen to them, to the colony? How were they to live? There was no firewood, little food, and it was cold.
“What are we going to do?” Sari asked her voice rising.
Gwin shook her head.
Soon some of the prisoners straggled back to the village, dropping their weapons when they tired of carrying them. They were quiet, not like the raging throng they’d been just a short time ago. Boxes and sacks littered the streets. Some grabbed remnants of food as they walked by. Others just headed to their dormitories. No one bothered to move the bodies.
As the day wore on, the sun gradually melted some of the snow, though it was still piled against building walls in the shade. More prisoners returned to the village grumbling about being hungry. They headed into the warehouses, coming out with whatever food they could find.
Gwin thought it over. “To save on fuel they will either have to land somewhere soon or head to Pidleon.”
“If the land the prisoners will just head there. If they go to Pidleon do you think they’ll come back?”
Gwin nodded, although she wasn’t convinced they would. “And they will probably return with more food.”
“But how can we survive in the meantime? After the rain and the raid on the food supply there was barely enough to last until they made it back on their planned trip. Now there is even less.”
Gwin looked at the chaos around them. “We’ll just have to ration ourselves.”
“I doubt that you’ll get anyone to go along with that.” She looked at the prisoners scavenging in the boxes and bags on the street. There was no wood, but no one was taking the axes and chopping down trees for the cook stoves or for fires to keep warm. “Who is going to make the rules?”
Gwin also doubted that the prisoners themselves would set in motion a guideline for their own survival. There were just too many of them to organize. “I guess anyone can make rules but getting the others to carry them out is going to be the problem.”
They saw the Federer turn its lights on as the sun sat on the horizon. It was getting colder. Some prisoners, as if realizing what the bodies meant, rushed to them and removed their clothes. They quickly pulled them over their own before someone else stole them. Those with axes tore the clothes in pieces and wrapped them around their feet, hands, and heads. They then wandered the streets hunting for food. Neither Gwin nor Sari had thought about eating.
Betrayed (Cry of the Guilty – Silence of the Innocent Book 2) Page 10