Pegasus Colony (People of Akiane: A Colonization Science Fiction Novel Book 1)

by Phyllis Moore

  They started at her as if they didn’t understand her words. No one spoke.

  Gino didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t imagine any of them going home defeated, or sitting for two years doing nothing just because they didn’t have dust-free areas.

  Then he had a thought, and bellowed, “My goodness! Some of the best scientists worked in far worse conditions: Darwin out on a ship, the Beagle, in the middle of the ocean; Leonardo de Vinci worked in a hot, un-air-conditioned, candle-lit, poorly-built wooden room; Einstein worked in his head. Now there was a disorderly mess.” He chuckled.

  A few smiled.

  “Don’t forget Stanzas on Mars.” Gino looked around the room to make sure all were paying attention. “He certainly didn’t have a dust-free workspace and look what he accomplished. There are now colonies on the Moon, Mars, Europa, and here, on Akiane, all because of him.”

  Gino continued to bellow in his best old-man voice. “Are you young people going to tell me you’re not as good or as dedicated? You’re on an unexplored planet about to make discoveries that will affect scientific history, and you’re crying about dust?”

  Sheepishly, they diverted their eyes. Their brain-gears started whirring as they considered his words. They glanced around to see what the others thought.

  “What do you say?” Gino’s voice easily spun around the room.

  “I guess,” one timid voice said.

  “It’s better than doing nothing,” another said, more confidently.

  “I’m not going home empty-handed.”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Each person spoke with increasing confidence.

  Gino winked at Jessica. Together, they had diverted their second catastrophe. Then he turned to the cooks, brothers Zhoa and Vong, “Where’s the kitchen?”

  They pointed to a door to the right of the hanging meat. “In there, I think,” Zhoa said. “We haven’t checked it out yet.”

  “Deal with the meat before it goes bad,” Gino said.

  “Dinner will be ready before you’ve sorted the crates,” Zhoa promised.

  “Good,” Jessica said. “Zhoa and Vong will need help finding their kitchen equipment in that pile of crates.” She pointed to the hundreds of crates of all sizes piled in the middle of the room. “Would someone please help them move everything into their kitchen.”

  “Let’s go,” a few voices chimed.

  “Do we have hinges or door handles?” Mathieu asked.

  “Probably not,” Jessica said. “Why?”

  “We could make doors for the crates if we had some,” he said.

  “Britannia might have them,” Lu suggested, “or they could make some.”

  “Lu, contact Britannia and ask them for hinges and handles, and don’t forget to ask them for our walls. See if they can also make tables and chairs, and cubicle walls,” Gino added.

  “I don’t think they’ll have time for all of that,” Jessica said.

  “Then for get the cubicles. See if they can do the rest,” Gino said.

  “It will be my pleasure.” Lu turned to do as he’d requested.

  “Oh, hang on.” Jessica had another thought.

  Lu stopped in mid-step and turned around.

  “Ask them to contact WSC to let them know you’ll need supplies to build clean rooms,” Jessica said. “See if the next ship coming can accommodate.”

  “Will do.” Her hand came up for a quick salute. Her heels clicked.

  The rest of the scientists began unpacking and constructing the wall of cabinets.

  Rona stepped in front of Gino. “I have a question,” she said.

  Several people glanced in their direction.

  “What?” He tried sidestepping her. She refused to let him pass.

  “How do we clean our bedding and clothes?” Rona asked. “If these people use third-world bathroom services, how advanced can their laundry cleaning be? What are we going to do?”

  Everyone stopped to look at him for the answer.

  Gino cringed. These children are going to be the death of me.

  Chapter 12

  Adumie

  Insulted

  ADUMIE ENJOYED the quiet after the caretakers finished tending the ashag and picking produce for the day’s needs. He liked the smell of lemons, the taste of tiny tomatoes, and the feel of the freshness of the hydroponics. On this day, he needed the tranquility to undo the after effects of meeting invaders from Earth.

  After the habitat was completed, it was decided that the grounds would be used only for pleasure and to allow native plants to grow. The hydroponics became the ashag, fields of produce.

  Eagle carried seeds for every kind of fruit and vegetable that grew on Earth. When it exploded, all of it was lost. The hydroponics on Falcon and Hawk saved them from starving. But they only had the basics fortunately, it had been enough. The ancestors went through great pains to keep the same integrity of fruit and vegetables as that of Earth.

  Adumie chose a peach and bit into it. Did it taste the same as on Earth? Delicious. What did he care if the fruit tasted the same or not: it was now fruit of Akiane.

  The gardeners carefully nurtured each plant. This tree was close to ten years old. The tree was one and a half meters tall with roots the size of his fingers. Its trunk was thick, snarled and folded over itself, and twice the size of his forearm. Its branches were weighted down with bright crimson peaches.

  Along the same table were other trees just as old and older. Saplings grew on a nearby table.

  He lightly touched the leaves of a tomato plant. Its stalk was also thick and gnarled. Vines were allowed to grow until they stopped producing, then they were pruned back in preparation for new growth.

  New growth was the promise of the future.

  “There is disappointment that one such as you wished not to speak to the Earth priest.” Jecidia. Why would the old one not leave him alone?

  “I will not be so insulted.” Adumie seethed not just at the thought of the Earth priest, but of the disturbance of his serenity.

  “Perhaps their ways are different and they are unaware of our ways. That one could be smaller to show respect.” Jecidia was always seeking the best.

  He forgives too easily and does not clearly see reality, Adumie thought. I am not so deceived. He continued his walk in the hopes of leaving Jecidia behind.

  Jecidia tried to keep up.

  “That one. . .” Adumie would not speak the name Lieutenant, a name with no meaning. “A priest was requested. A priest was granted who does not speak with God’s authority. Nor does that one stand as a priest should. Why send such a one?”

  “Perhaps they do not value height as we do.” Jecidia gasped for breath. One of his legs seemed to be giving him more trouble than usual. He began to limp. “Did you not observe their many sizes? They might not be like us.”

  Adumie snorted. “As Cameron has said, ‘They are not so different from us.’” Yet their differences would an excellent reason to convince the community not to associate with them.

  Not that it really mattered. Once the invaders learned the truth, that they were no longer fully human, those of Earth would be appalled. Adumie imagined the looks of disgust on their faces. His people had done what was needed. Earth did not have an understanding of their struggles to survive.

  Adumie had come to the ashag to be alone, not to think about invaders, yet Jecidia chose to be intrusive. Adumie hastened his pace.

  As Jecidia fell behind, he spoke louder. “Did you not notice how all of them are shorter than our priests? Is that not a sign of respect?” Again he spoke of harmony.

  “They came to dominate, not show respect.” Adumie would not be calmed. Suddenly stopping, he whirled around. “World Space Coalition proves their disrespect by sending xia ji.”

  Jecidia halted, gasping for breath.

  “Did you see how they held hands without shame?” Adumie demanded as he stomped back toward Jecidia.

  Dropping his head in disappointment, Jecidia
said, “There are no explanations for such an act. They may be more different than we expected. They might not hold purity in the same regard as we do.”

  “We are a holy people. We are not to associate with blasphemers,” Adumie said, standing before him. “Does it not say, Do not be unevenly yoked with unbelievers.”

  Jecidia looked Adumie in the eye. “Is it their touching of hands or their size or that they are from Earth that most offends you?”

  Adumie walked past Jecidia. If he would not leave Adumie alone, Adumie would find another place. Perhaps outside. Jecidia could no longer tolerate the cold.

  But as Adumie was escaping, he found Qorow Low, Halmahera, and seven other life-givers standing before him.

  Qorow Low smiled tentatively. Adumie chose not to respond. Disappointed, her smile faded.

  The pain of disappointment was all too familiar to Adumie. It was better this way. Qorow Low’s emotions would wane from lack of encouragement. Such wishing that things could be different only created problems.

  “Speak,” Adumie said more roughly than he’d intended.

  Qorow Low flinched.

  He closed his eyes. One more regret. He truly liked her, but she wanted more than a priest’s friendship, something he could not give for fear of consequences.

  Halmahera spoke. “Minds are wondering if those of World Space Coalition have knowledge of how to save our children from the slow dying illness.”

  Division among the community, Adumie thought. This is Cameron’s fault.

  “Intruders are not here to help, but to rule over us,” he said. “They claim all that we have built as theirs.”

  “They may have new methods of healing,” Qorow Low said. “How many more children must die?” She often spoke her mind without thought. It was that which frustrated Adumie most about her. If only she would listen to him and not be misguided by Cameron’s false hopes.

  Bringing forth a child caused the illness to progress faster. Yet they kept trying. Those born sick died young—too young.

  Their numbers were dwindling. Soon there would be no life-givers, and no children. Soon everyone would be dead.

  “I want to have many children and I want all of them to live,” Qorow Low said, with a little cry of fear in her voice.

  “My first child has died,” Susa said, as she pushed through the small crowd.

  “As have mine.”

  “And mine.”

  “My second child has died. I’m fearing to have another,” Susa continued.

  “What are you doing to save our children?” Halmahera asked.

  What could Adumie say? I have prayed, but God’s answer is death. He could not speak such truths out loud.

  “Those of Earth only bring discord,” he said. “They have no care if we live or die. They only want what we have built and all we have created.”

  “How can you be saying that?” Qorow Low asked.

  “We sent a message asking for their help. Jecidia sent the message himself. It took twelve years for them to decide to answer,” Adumie said. “By that time, so many had died.” Like the one closest to his heart: Petra.

  “They are here now,” Qorow Low said. “Ask them.”

  “Yes, one should be speaking to them,” Susa pleaded.

  Their faces were filled with anxiety and grief. It tore at Adumie’s heart, making him hate those of Earth all the more. Intruders brought the hope of help, while at the same time knowing full well they would not do so. Those of Earth were the same people who had sent them here 321 years ago and then abandoned them.

  The ancestors sent many messages and patiently waited for reinforcements. None came.

  World Space Coalition sent no ships, sent no messages. Earth became silent, not interested if any survived or died. Earth was pitiless.

  “I don’t want any more of my children to be dying,” Halmahera said. Her child was about to come-forth. She had already lost four. How many broken hearts could one endure in a lifetime? Adumie didn’t understand why she continued to try.

  If only her child would be born healthy, Adumie silently prayed. Unfortunately, no one was listening.

  “I honestly do not believe intruders care about our children,” Adumie spoke gently. His words were difficult to say yet they needed to be spoken, heard and followed. “Not one of those of Earth has tried to make amends for abandoning us so many years ago. World Space Coalition lied to the first of us. Promises were made to send ships and more people. And any who wished to return to Earth could. Those promises were never kept.”

  “Still, we should be speaking to them,” Qorow Low insisted. “Perhaps they are not understanding because no one gives understanding.” The gentleness of Qorow Low, which Adumie admired most, would be her undoing.

  “They blaspheme.” The words came from Adumie’s mouth before he had time to stop them.

  “Explain,” Qorow Low said. Her eyes were filled with suspicion. Did she think he lied? Or was it that she did not believe his words? Her lack of trust stabbed at him.

  “They touch,” Adumie said. “In public for all to see.”

  The life-givers gasped in horror.

  Qorow Low’s eyes narrowed in continued disbelief.

  “How can they be doing such a thing?” Halmahera angrily spoke.

  “They have no shame for such blatant displays of touching. Gloves do not cover their hands.” Adumie looked directly at Qorow Low. “Do you think God would be pleased if we ask help from people such as that?”

  Qorow Low pulled her gloves tighter and would not look directly at Adumie, but softly quoted, “Our bodies are a living sacrifice unto God. We should be holy and pleasing unto God.”

  “Do not waste your time trying to win over those who will not be won over,” Adumie said.

  “Adumie is speaking truth. Those of Earth do not care. Intruders must be made to leave,” Mercener said.

  “If only there was knowledge of how to make them,” Adumie said. “Do not go near them. They bring harm.” He gently directed the life-givers back toward the Blood Vines. “Return to your children; speak of life to them. Ignore intruders.” He wanted to say with full faith, Leave them to God.

  If only God cared enough to deal with them, Adumie thought. For he feared God would forever do nothing.

  Halmahera immediately did as Adumie said and quickly turned, no doubt to check on her child. Others followed, some with less enthusiasm. Mercener almost ran out of the ashag as if she was on a mission.

  Qorow Low was the last to leave. Without raising her eyes from the floor, she spoke quietly. “I hope you speak the truth of God’s words and do not speak from bitterness of heart.”

  He did not answer her. How could she know of his wounded heart? He’d told no one.

  “There are decisions that must be made by the whole community,” she said.

  He wanted to say no. But the word caught in his throat and would not come out.

  He saw her pain. He could not scold her, nor could he deny her. Perhaps she was right. A meeting should clear thought and bring unity, but they’d already had several meetings and still nothing had been decided.

  As high priest, the final decision should have been Adumie’s, but every time Cameron overrode him.

  So once again, another gathering. “We will meet in the morning after first meal. Tell the others,” Adumie said.

  She bowed respectfully and turned to go.

  Suddenly, Jecidia stood at Adumie’s side. “That one cares deeply for you, and plainly sees the truth of your heart.” He sounded proud of Qorow Low.

  “That one’s feelings are inappropriate,” Adumie snapped.

  Jecidia said, “I do not presume to judge.”

  “No, Jecidia? Clearly you do judge me. Otherwise, you would not be continually doubting my abilities. You are no longer leader. I am. I will do what I think is best.” Adumie spoke directly into Jecidia’s face as if such closeness would finally make him understand. “Intruders do not come to bring health. They come to dominat
e and insult.”

  Swiftly, angrily, Adumie left Jecidia standing alone.

  “How would you feel if they stood taller than you?” Jecidia’s voice trailed behind.

  Such a comment could not go unchallenged. “How would they appreciate it if I sent Nu Venia to welcome them?” Adumie demanded.

  “I think Cameron would be pleased. I do not believe Nu Venia would be so willing.” Was that humor in Jecidia’s voice?

  “Cameron,” Adumie snorted. “That one has no reasoning.”

  “That one believes God will rescue us,” Jecidia said.

  Adumie did not answer, but stopped, too angry to continue.

  Slowly, Jecidia caught up to him.

  “I’m remembering a time when you once believed, Adumie.”

  He turned away. “You may remember, but you have no understanding.” Adumie walked off, determined not to answer any more of Jecidia’s words and not to stop until he was clear of the old one.

  Jecidia did not follow, but he did continue to speak, “Tell me, Adumie. I will listen.”

  This was some things Jecidia could not fix with simple faith.

  “Speaking troubles of the heart cleanses the soul,” Jecidia called after him, “and brings forgiveness.”

  If only Adumie’s sins could be so easily forgiven.

  CAPTAIN’S LOG

  Akiane Colony

  Captain Faris Assetti

  Year 2144

  Day six on planet

  Beginning construction

  It has been decided. Plans have been drawn.

  Akiane will provide a good source of building supplies. There is plenty of lava and we have the technical ability to reshape it to our needs. The enclosure will be three kilometers in diameter. The main ships will sit on the northernmost wall so there is room to build a future city inside.

  One of the engineers has started a log on the construction of our future habitat. Construction details will be found in those logs.

  Since we have only the three doctors from Falcon, Beasley will train a new medical team. He is using the computer medical data as his curriculum. There is more in his medical logs.

  Chapter 13