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

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Pegasus Colony (People of Akiane: A Colonization Science Fiction Novel Book 1) Page 14

by Phyllis Moore


  He understood that he was not to pursue that line of questioning. “I wish to go on your fishing expedition,” he said.

  “I had not expected this from. . .,” she stopped in mid-sentence. It was not good to insult, but he didn’t seem the sort who worked hard. Fishing was difficult work.

  “A priest?” he finished. “Do you think I only pray and read all day?”

  That was exactly what she thought. “We will only be gone for a few days, Father. There is no need for a spiritual adviser.”

  He tapped his heart. “I feel in here that I should go with you.” He paused. “I feel that it is important.”

  “I already have eleven people to help,” Faris said. She really didn’t want him along. For some reason, she didn’t feel comfortable around him. It probably had to do with their different views on religion and Allah. She knew it didn’t make sense, but there it was.

  He smiled mysteriously. “Counting you, there will be twelve people. I will bring good luck by being your thirteenth member.”

  She knew he was trying to lighten the mood. Neither of them were superstitious.

  His strength of faith shamed the weakening of hers. It wasn’t that she had stopped believing, she just didn’t understand why so many bad things had happened. It almost seemed as if Allah had forgotten them.

  Yet, she knew by past conversations, the priest firmly believed that Allah would turn things around and they would prevail.

  It annoyed her that her faith was not as strong as his.

  That was the real reason she didn’t want to bring him along, but there was even less reason to deny him.

  “Fine,” she relented, “you will be our lucky charm. We leave at first light.”

  Chapter 18

  Adumie

  Coming Forth

  ALL IN the community had gathered with life-giver Halmahera. Her chrysalis was hardening.

  If the child was too weak to break through, the chrysalis would be ceremoniously wrapped in a yellow funeral cloth and reverently placed in Akiane’s waters.

  Adumie’s emotions seemed to have dried. He felt nothing, neither hope nor sorrow, but stood and watched as the porous membrane sealed itself closed into a hardened shell.

  Worried faces intently watched. Mouths were turned down instead of up in joyful smiles. People stood in mournful silence instead of excited chatter. Some were filled with the regret of a child they’d recently lost. Though they crowded in together so all could see, no one touched another.

  Two small hands gripped the edge of the nest soon two inquisitive eyes peered over the edge. Tremont was trying to get a better look, but her life-giver, Japiehern, pulled the child back.

  “You will get your gloves sticky,” she said.

  The vines of the nest perpetually leaked a milky substance that fed the child in the nest.

  “But I cannot see,” Tremont whined.

  Japiehern lifted her child. Tremont wrapped her arms around her life-giver’s neck. Small, gloved hands laced fingers together.

  As Adumie’s eyes scanned the community, they rested on Nu Venia. When she noticed he was watching her, she slipped behind Cameron and peered around him.

  Even the sight of that one had no effect on him this day.

  “It has finished,” someone said.

  Emotionless, Adumie turned his attention to the fully hardened chrysalis.

  They could hear as the child inside lightly pushed outward, but the chrysalis did not give as it usually did. The child gave a muffled whine as she tried to stretch, the brittle membrane cracked slightly, but held the child firmly inside.

  Little feet kicked in frustration. Cracks increased. The chrysalis was now completely opaque. It was no longer possible to see the child’s shadow as it moved. But all could hear irritated grunts. A foot kicked harder. More thin cracks.

  The child became silent. Either it was thinking what to do or. . .it was too weak.

  Life-giver Halmahera squeaked in fear, but she made no attempt to free her child. To do so would kill her. The child must free herself to live.

  Simultaneously, Adumie and Qorow Low moved to stand on either side of her.

  “Do not fear just yet,” Qorow Low said.

  “But my child does not move.” The emotions of the moment choked Halmahera’s voice.

  “Give the child a bit more time. I am sure it is exhausting work to break through a chrysalis.” Qorow Low encouraged.

  It is good advice, Adumie thought. He could not have spoken better, though he couldn’t help wondering if this was all the child had to give.

  Too many other children had not been able to free themselves. In desperation, a life-giver had torn the chrysalis open only to find her child dead or too near death to be revived. That was why they no longer opened the chrysalis, but released it into the ocean.

  Seconds seemed like minutes. Still they waited. No one spoke. No one wanted to suggest the inevitable.

  Adumie realized he was not breathing. He almost feared to breathe as if the release of one’s breath might curse the child.

  Suddenly, both legs kicked outward. One end of the membrane shattered as several pieces fell away. Chubby legs wiggled about with their newfound freedom. The skin coloring was bright, deep pink, like the sky at Kahair’s early rising.

  Adumie leaned in to check for signs of illness.

  There were no gray blotches on the child’s legs. This child was healthy and strong. He nodded his approval.

  Faces eased into expressions of relief. The crowd gave the child an encouraging cheer. Even Adumie couldn’t help but smile.

  The little legs stretched, relaxed, and lay still.

  A fist came bursting out of the side of the membrane followed by the other.

  This time, Halmahera squealed in delight as more of the casing crumbled. She leaned in to help remove her child from the casing’s leftovers.

  Qorow Low was right. She had more faith than a high priest. Adumie cringed at the thought.

  Halmahera picked pieces of the chrysalis off and finished freeing her child, but she had no new clothes to dress her child.

  No one made clothes for their children until after the child came forth. Before the fear of death, there would be many little shirts and pants, even fur suits made in preparation for the little one coming forth. But now, to make clothes beforehand was to curse the child. The joy of making the clothes was lost. There was much disappointment when unused clothes was given away or stored for lack of a child to wear them.

  But this time Halmahera would have great joy in making clothes for her.

  A charming smile spread across the child’s face. She knew nothing of the troubles of this world, but only saw her life-giver. Adoringly, the child’s black eyes focused on Halmahera. She extended her arms upward.

  “Kagan.” Halmahera could not contain her giggled excitement as she bent to pick up her child. They hugged for the first time. Such touching was only permitted between life-giver and child, not between adults.

  Adumie felt a wave of relief. A healthy child almost eased the pain of life’s troubles.

  Halmahera knelt and stood Kagan on the floor. With Qorow Low’s help, Halmahera tied a small green wrap around the little one. Avoiding palm-to-palm contact, Halmahera held Kagan’s wrists and helped her to stand.

  The child’s legs wobbled. Kagan swayed, sat with a thump and began to cry. The expression of surprise was so cute it was impossible not to laugh.

  It was the first time Adumie had laughed in a long time. It almost felt as if it were the first time he had laughed in his entire life. It was pure joy.

  Tearful Kagan looked around at faces filled with joy and laughed too.

  With a little coaxing from Halmahera, Kagan tried to stand again. It didn’t take long for Kagan to walk, but it would be several more hours before she would walk without Halmahera’s help.

  A child had been born healthy, the first in so many births. Adumie could have cried with relief. Perhaps the illness had passed an
d the next generation would live.

  Encouraged, Adumie walked through the Blood Vines to see life-givers hovering near their nests, hoping that their children would also come forth healthy.

  Adumie pushed back leaves to check several different chrysalises. None were dried or discolored, another encouraging sign. He watched children’s shadows as they moved within their protective casings.

  Then the inevitable happened, a mournful wail pierced Adumie’s heart. Could trouble come so soon? He followed the sound of the grieving back to Halmahera.

  Sobbing, she held a crying Kagan at arm’s length so Adumie could see the child’s back. Kagan’s hands opened and closed in an effort to draw her life-giver closer.

  On the child’s strong muscular back, along the spine, tiny, barely noticeable gray blotches were forming. This child would die before she was fully grown.

  Chapter 19

  Rona Montgomery

  Afternoon, Day Four

  IT HAD been eight years since Rona and Lu first learned they’d been chosen for the Akiane Project. They’d trained together for the mission. They’d studied and worked together on their PhDs in microbiology while en route to Akiane. They’d planned their research strategy.

  Now like new buds coming forth with the freshness of spring, they burst forth ready to get started and give their first physical examinations. They especially wanted to collect DNA samples from every colonist and follow their genetics back to their respective ancestors. They planned to show colonists holophotoes of their ancestors and of their cousins back on Earth.

  Those relatives were anxiously waiting word from their Akiane cousins.

  Rona and Lu wanted to see what, if any, effect the planet’s environment had on the colonists’ physical genetics. The goal was to see how the colonists’ DNA had changed during their 321 years of isolation.

  Every twenty-five generations, the father’s DNA line would produce small mutations in the family DNA, nothing major, just small, insignificant mutations. It wasn’t a sexual thing. It was the way of genetics. The mother’s mitochondria had its own properties.

  A generation was defined as the time from when a girl was born to when she gave birth to her first child. That time changed according to culture. It was considerably shortened when women had children by age fifteen. The time was lengthened if it was normal within a culture for women not to give birth until their thirties or forties. The unknown length of a generation for colonists was often a discussion topic between Rona and Lu.

  Lu had already outlined five papers they’d write and publish back on Earth. She bought a frame for the Nobel Prize diploma they’d share. Rona had smiled at the gesture. Then to Lu’s delight, she created a mock Nobel Prize certificate, put in the frame, wrapped it and gave it to her. It was better than Christmas.

  Now finally, four days after they’d landed, they were ready for first contact. Their computers were synchronized with files to take notes, store data, and hold digital images. Lu carried the non-intrusive Handheld Medical Scanner, HMS, to take physical readings of a human body.

  Blood samples were best. They gave more accurate readings. It might take much longer to gain these people’s trust before they would be willing to give blood samples. The HMS would tell blood type, map DNA, and identify a disease.

  All they needed now was to befriend colonists, learn about their living habits, and gain their trust.

  They left their living quarters to explore.

  When they saw three women walking in the gardens, Rona thought they’d encountered triplets. The women were so similar in size and dress.

  The boots were leather and looked as if they had been turned inside out so the fur was on the inside. The top of the boot was turned down to make a fur cuff. The gloves were also turned inside out with a cuff. The fur on the coat and pants turned outward with a fur cuff on the bottom hem of their jackets and on their hoods.

  All three women had black hair exactly the same shoulder length and were exactly the same height, a about one meter. They had stout bodies, although Rona thought it might be their fur jacket that made them seem so round.

  Their dogs were mostly white with apricot tufts, while the women’s fur cuffs were mostly red with a few white tufts.

  As she and Lu drew closer, the women turned to look in their direction. Their faces were wide with high cheekbones, flat noses, and maroon skin. Though they had similar facial features, they were not triplets. Rona wasn’t even sure if they were sisters.

  Their hoods rested on their shoulders, their jackets were opened. They’d just come from outside. Underneath their jackets they wore shiny, sateen-like, green shirts. While they each wore thin green gloves, they also carried a set of fur gloves.

  As soon as the women saw Rona and Lu they promptly trotted away like deer spooked by hikers, their dogs followed close behind. In turn, each woman glanced over her shoulder to see if they were being followed.

  “Hi there.” Lu waved at them. “Wait up. We’d like to talk to you.”

  The women increased their pace, almost running away.

  Lu started after them.

  Rona reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “I don’t think they’re interested in talking to us.”

  “Too forward?” Lu asked.

  “Perhaps. They need time to get used to us,” Rona said. “Once they realize we’re no threat. . .”

  But Lu wasn’t listening. She pulled on Rona’s arm. “Look,” she whispered.

  “What?” Rona asked.

  A short distance from where they were standing, a small, green-gloved hand appeared through the branches of a nearby bush. It picked a bright pink flower and then disappeared.

  Lu was already moving toward the small hand.

  Curious, Rona crept up along side Lu and peered through the bushes. A woman sat on a lava path with five children, all of whom sat on their fur jackets. The woman drew something on a handheld blackboard made of flat slate. The children gathered around so they could see.

  Lu had found a teacher and her students. They wore fur pants and green socks. Their boots were lined up in a row at the edge of the path. All of them wore the same green, sateen-like blouses, as the women they’d just seen. Every one of them wore matching thin green gloves.

  “What a great way to introduce ourselves,” Lu whispered.

  If Lu doesn’t rush things, we might gain the teacher’s trust, Rona thought. Even though she felt as excited as a schoolgirl herself, Rona thought it best to leave the class alone and speak with the teacher at another time. She hoped a teacher would be more curious than the others and more open to making contact.

  The child with the flower sat to the side of the group, observing. Perhaps she was some sort of assistant. She seemed a few years older than the others and was considerably larger.

  She saw Rona and Lu watching them and stared back. Her eyes were hazy yellow, with green flecks, and black pupils. Her skin was a dark raw sienna, as though the color had been freshly squeezed from a tube of paint. Her snow-white hair just reached her shoulders.

  “Except for the white-haired child, the others all have coal-black hair,” Lu whispered.

  Every person they’d met so far had black hair and black eyes. Why was this girl different? Was she an anomaly or were there others like her? Her eyes were unlike anything Rona had ever seen before.

  “They’re all wearing green gloves. I wonder what that’s about.” Lu continued to speak softly.

  Like birds all in a row, one by one, the children turned to see what the white-haired girl was looking at. Except for the girl with the yellow eyes, all the children looked sickly.

  Their pale, dull red skin was covered with gray blotches, some more than others. Their black hair lacked luster. One scrawny child in particular looked as if he was about to collapse. His eyes were watery and cloudy. He tilted his head to one side and squinted to better focus.

  Rona’s heart sank. She’d not expected to find sick children. Like a mother hen, she wanted to
gather them up in her arms and protect them from harm. She wanted to tell them it was all right. She’d do everything in her power to help heal them. If the colony’s doctor didn’t have a cure, she’d find one. She and Lu had the most advanced technology; technology these people didn’t have because of their isolation.

  The flowered bush prevented Lu from taking a clear reading. She moved the HMS around looking for an area free of foliage. She tried to push it through the bush without disturbing the leaves.

  The teacher turned to see what had captured the children’s attention.

  “Hi,” Lu happily chirped, as she stepped from behind the bush. She inconspicuously held the HMS at her side.

  Rona wished she hadn’t done that. They should have quietly slipped away. So far no one had welcomed them. What made Lu think this time would be any different?

  The teacher let out a mouse-like squeak, and quickly picked up her blackboard, fur jacket, and boots. “Hurry,” she said to the children. One might have thought Rona and Lu had come to steal the children.

  When she stood, she appeared to be the same size and height as the three women they’d just encountered as if all of them had been cut from the same cloth.

  The children hurriedly picked up their things. One child grabbed the sickly boy’s jacket and boots. Another girl picked up the white-haired girl’s things while the white-haired girl placed her hands under the boy’s arms and pulled him to his feet.

  He leaned heavily against her as they trailed behind the others. His legs were weak and his feet dragged, but the girl patiently encouraged him along. She didn’t look back to see if Rona and Lu were following. Instead, she gave her full attention to the boy.

  “Evidently, we don’t make any better first impression than Jessica,” Lu said, disappointed.

  “At least Adumie didn’t run at the sight of her as if she were a lioness come to eat them,” Rona said.

 

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