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

by Phyllis Moore

  Rona had never known Olivia to see the glass as half-full.

  “Guess I’ll have to express my gratitude to Miss Lieutenant Jessica.” Olivia reached for the plate of roasted potatoes.

  There was stunned silence. Rona and Lu almost dropped their forks. Olivia thankful?

  She replaced the plate and looked up at their bewildered faces and laughed. “Think about it. If she hadn’t stopped me, I would have assembled all six of my aquaria, but because of her I only lost three and I still have three left.”

  “You’re as grateful as a cat in a tuna factory,” Rona said. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Her smile eased as Olivia’s eyes scanned the area where her aquaria were. “At least they weren’t full of marine life. I had a few rocks and coral,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m sorry for the coral. I. . .We were testing the water for temperature and acidity. We planned to add a little marine life at a time, but we didn’t get the chance.” She turned back to them. “But thanks to Jessica, we will finish our project.”

  “Olivia, I’m impressed over your reaction to the day’s events,” Rona said with genuine awe.

  “Rona, one can’t mope over what one can’t fix,” Olivia said. She reached for a plate of tupilak and served herself. “Not like the two of you are doing.”

  She was just raising her fork to her mouth when Lu stopped and stared at Olivia.

  Rona was in mid-sip of her coffee when she stopped and asked, “What are you talking about?”

  Looking directly at her, Olivia admonished, “Rona, you are all out of sorts because you can’t do the project you want.”

  It took a moment for Rona to realize where Olivia was headed. She’s giving me advice on my attitude?

  “And you. . .” Olivia rested her elbow on the table, bent her wrist, and pointed her fork at Lu. “. . .are moping just because little Miss Princess here won’t join you on your doggy project.”

  “You have no right,” Rona started, but Olivia cut her off.

  “Personally I think a dog study is a brilliant idea.”

  “You do?” Lu asked.

  “You can tell a lot about a society by how they treat their livestock and pets. But in this case, they seem only to have pets. Why?” Olivia said. “I mean why have so many? What are they good for? Are they used for some sort of labor? Do they eat them?”

  “Oh I hope not,” Lu said.

  Holding a sizable piece of meat with her fingers, Olivia continued, “Tupilak is good, but I can’t imagine eating only this forever. A little variety would be nice.” She popped the meat into her mouth. “A little chicken, beef, fish, bacon even. For the colonists, dog seems logical.”

  Lu frowned. She pushed the tupilak on her plate around with her fork as if examining it.

  Olivia eyes scanned the room, plotting, no doubt. “Notice how the dogs never beg for food. They leave the dining area every time we eat.”

  Dogs again, even at breakfast. Was there no getting away from this conversation? Rona cringed. Well, at least we aren’t talking about projects anymore.

  It had taken a great deal of effort to keep the dogs out of the work area. No one had to teach them to stay out of the area during a meal. They automatically left when the food arrived. They lay quietly, resting on the path between the work and eating areas.

  “Maybe the colonists trained them.” Rona started in on her plate. “I’m famished.” She dug in.

  Lu ate in silence. Is she in thoughts over Spago? Rona wondered.

  “They don’t just leave when the food comes, they leave when the meat arrives,” Olivia said. “Watch this.”

  She threw a chunk of potato over the heads of two women sitting at the far end of the table. They ducked just in time. “Hey,” one complained.

  “Sorry,” Olivia said, but by her tone, she wasn’t.

  The potatoes landed right in front of one dogs. She quickly ate it and licked the floor clean.

  “Now watch this.” She picked a chunk of meat off her plate. “Incoming,” she said, to the same two women.

  “Must you?” one asked.

  “Conducting an experiment,” Olivia said.

  Begrudgingly, they dropped their heads.

  Olivia threw the meat high over them.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  The women shrugged.

  “All for science,” one said without cheer.

  The meat landed near a group of dogs. They scattered as if Olivia had thrown a stinkball at them.

  “Interesting,” Rona said.

  Olivia said, “I think you should add that to your studies.”

  “What studies?” Lu asked.

  “Your dog study,” Olivia said.

  “Oh, we’re not going to do that, remember?” Lu said sourly.

  Rona dropped her fork on her plate. “Is that why you’re sulking?”

  “I’m not sulking, Rona.”

  “It looks like it to me, Lu.”

  “Looks like there’s trouble in paradise,” Olivia taunted. She was more than willing to stir up other people’s problems all the while ignoring her shortcomings.

  “Oh shut up, Olivia.” Rona pushed her plate away.

  She didn’t. “Why not have a dog project?”

  “Because I didn’t come here to study dogs. I came to study humans,” Rona exclaimed.

  “And how’s that research coming along?” Olivia asked in mock sweetness.

  “They won’t even talk to us,” Lu said.

  “So you’re doing nothing?” Olivia asked.

  There was a good comeback, one that would explain Rona’s point of view, but she couldn’t think of it. “We’re looking for a volunteer,” she said weakly.

  Olivia screwed up her nose. “And you, Lu. Just because Rona is willing to sit around doing nothing, is that a reason for you to do nothing?”

  “What do you mean?” Lu asked.

  “I mean. . .if you want to study dogs, then study dogs. You don’t need Rona’s permission.”

  “Thanks, Olivia,” Rona said sarcastically. “I wasn’t trying to stop Lu. I just don’t want to participate.”

  “No, you’d rather sit and stare into space instead of doing something productive,” Olivia scolded.

  Rona stood. Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry any more. “Lu can do whatever she wants. Just like I can do whatever I want.” She left them and her breakfast.

  Chapter 25

  Lieutenant Jessica Hewitt

  Commons Area

  “ARECHIT!” A male voice spoke calmly. The dogs became obediently silent.

  I let out a slow breath and opened my eyes. I was not to be eaten alive this day.

  All the dogs sat, happily panting with their tongues hanging out and their tails wagging as if expecting a pat on the head for a job well done. They moved out of the man’s way as he approached. All but the red-eared dog left the area.

  The man was one of the three men who escorted us to our living quarters. Jecidia stood in front of me. He was still talker than me, but seemed shorter I remembered.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Graciously nodding his greeting, he said, “You are in need of saving from chovis.”

  “Chovis?” I asked.

  He pointed to the one dog peacefully sitting at his side.

  “The dogs,” I said. “You call them chovis.”

  One nod of confirmation.

  “Is chovis many or is it just one chovis?” I felt stupid asking, but it was all I could think of to say.

  “Whether many or one, a chovis is chovis.” He motioned for me to walk with him.

  Hesitating, I said, “I was hoping to speak to your leader.” Even though I knew the answer, I asked, “Who is your leader?” There was always the possibility I was wrong.

  “Adumie,” Jecidia said.

  Of course. I couldn’t be that lucky. All the times I’d been wrong in my life and now when I needed it most, I was right. Adumie was leader.

  “Is there someone else I could speak to?” I
asked. “He doesn’t like me.”

  “Adumie is not liking Adumie,” Jecidia said.

  “That’s not helpful,” I said. “I got the feeling that I’ve insulted him in some way. Maybe if I apologize, but first I need to know what I did wrong. It would be helpful if you told me.”

  Jecidia smiled. “You have come to Akiane.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That is it.”

  How was I supposed to beat that?

  To my surprise, he didn’t walk me back to my quarters. He walked me into one of the main buildings. I looked up in time to see Falcon painted across the hull. The ship’s gray paint had long lost its luster, but the letters FALCON were bright cobalt blue.

  We walked down the hall. Several people were also walking in the same direction as us.

  “How did you know where I was?” I asked.

  “Mercener told me where to find you. I sent her to call the others,” Jecidia explained.

  I wondered why, but I was afraid to ask.

  We entered a large commons area that seemed to take up most of the first floor. The room was huge. A couple of thousand tables and chairs filled the room. But except for a group of people gathered into one small area the rest of the room was empty. The people looked lonely and lost.

  Then every single pair of eyes of more than 200 hostile people turned toward me. The most hostile were those of Adumie. His stare made my insides wither.

  Clearly, I was not welcome. It reminded me of grade school when I’d asked a question that everyone else in class thought was stupid. I was not in school, yet I felt the same shame and embarrassment. It was a little creepy. I scanned the room. The walls caught my attention.

  Someone had painted one continuous mural all around the room. It so fascinated me, I temporarily forgot how uncomfortable I was.

  The painting was of three spherical ships trekking across the stars. The next was of an exploding ship. Parts were flying in all directions. Another ship was on land near the ocean. It was overwhelmed by amazingly large blue-green waves with angry, white foam. On the edge of the caldera were two people watching the last ship, which made a perfect landing in the caldera near majestic mountains.

  It was their history of how they came here and what happened upon arriving.

  The mural-story continued with the building of this habitat. There were figures of sad people, happy people, adults surrounded with children and finally paintings of people dying.

  Within the mural were holographic images of people’s faces. None of them looked like these people, they looked like people from Earth. The images were mostly moving holograms, but some pictures were made of paper copies. I guessed these were the ancestors.

  Jecidia pulled on my sleeve and motioned me toward the group of people sitting near the center. They seemed small and forlorn compared to the size of the room.

  The chairs were comfortable with stuffed fur cushions. The tabletops were made of clear, tinted green glass filled with dark green fibers like fiberglass. Chair and table frames were made of black metal that swirled and curled into beautiful, ornate designs. No two chairs or tables were the same. These people have a lot of time on their hands, I thought.

  The room was so silent I might have thought the people before me were an illusion.

  In a low voice, I asked Jecidia, “Why is everyone here? I thought you had arranged a quiet conversation between Adumie and me. He is your leader, right? He makes all final decisions. Right? So why is everyone here?”

  Jecidia spoke so all could hear. “It is your time to speak.”

  My heart raced. What did I miss? Now it was my time to speak? What did they want me to say? I was not a public speaker.

  Jecidia directed me to a table and chair in the center of the group, where everyone could easily see me, and left me there.

  I stared back. I didn’t try to hide my curiosity about these people.

  They were all dressed exactly alike. Even their children, what few were here, wore green sateen pantsuits and green gloves. Variety was not the spice here.

  It was difficult to tell men from women. All had stout bodies, flat faces, fat cheeks, and straight black, shoulder-length hair. Their skin colors ranged from deep pink to dark raw sienna. Most adults appeared to be exactly the same size. Their heads were level with one another, except for those who were a full head and shoulder taller. They had heads full of tiny black braids like those of Jecidia, Cameron, and Adumie.

  Many of Jecidia’s people had a few tiny, gray blotches. Some had large, gray blotches all over their faces and were going seriously gray and/or bald. For some, I could see light violet veins under their transparent skin. Those adults were smallest as if they’d withered and shriveled with age.

  About half looked healthy, with no blotches and coal-black hair.

  There were a few children and toddlers, but no babies.

  There had to be a good explanation for the rest of the children. Maybe they were in some sort of school and babies were in a nursery. Must be it, I thought.

  All those black eyes focused on me were devoid of emotion. I wondered what they were thinking. What did they expect me to say?

  I rubbed my sweaty palms against my jacket.

  Remain calm, I heard Dad’s voice say. Don’t panic. Explain the situation and go from there.

  With all my heart, I wished he was here with me. But if he were still alive, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be happily married living in Baja, California. Reality: Dad was dead and I was alone.

  I’d never been more alone in my life.

  I expected Adumie to say something. He didn’t. His eyes kept shifting away from me. He sat with his back rigid, his head held high, and a permanent scowl on his face.

  He hated me. I knew it was only because I was from Earth. I knew I shouldn’t take it personally, but I did. I felt that I was the one to blame. That it was my fault he hated me.

  Cameron walked toward me. Was it his turn to yell at me?

  A young girl with the white hair and yellow eyes peeked from behind him. Was she his daughter? Rona had said something about a girl with white hair when she and Lu had found a class of children. I wondered if this was the same girl. No one else had hair or eyes like hers. Why was she so different from the others?

  When I first met Cameron, I thought he was nice, but not now, with that penetrating stare, he seemed to be looking deep inside, analyzing my soul. I shifted uneasily in my chair.

  He stepped to one side, and with a slight nudge, the white-haired girl moved a step closer. Cameron nudged her again. She resisted. Clearly, she did not want to be here anymore than I did. He pushed a little harder. She sat at the table across from me. He stood behind her as still and cold as an almighty warrior.

  I guessed the girl to be about twelve years old, but the seriousness of her expression said she might have been older. She was shorter than the adults but slightly taller than the other children at the meeting.

  She was as Rona had said, almost as round as she was tall. Her legs, her arms, even her fingers were thick, but her face belonged to a thin person. Everything about her was strange. In every way, from the color of her eyes to her size, she was different from the others, except she was dressed in green, just like everyone else.

  And now, for whatever reason, this conversation had been surrendered to her. Who was she? And what did she have to say that was so important?

  She glanced around as if looking for an escape, but Cameron blocked her way. She scanned the crowd. For what? A friend? Among those angry faces? Finally she looked up at Cameron and sighed, her shoulders slumped. She sat as if the weight of the world were on her. Then, resigned to her fate, she gave me her full attention.

  I waited for her to speak.

  She placed a hand on her chest. “I am Nu Venia.” Pointing to Cameron she said, “He is Cameron. One of our priests.”

  Priest?

  When she said nothing more, I blurted out, “Why do you hate us?”

  “You aband
oned us.” Nu Venia sounded personally offended.

  “Who? Who abandoned you?”

  “World Space Coalition,” she said.

  “No, they thought you were dead,” I said.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “They never received one communication from you. All attempts to make contact failed. They assumed everyone had died.”

  “Then why send a ship?” she asked. “Just one with no one aboard.”

  “They sent three robotic ships. They were support ships. WSC didn’t want to risk more lives. They hoped the ships would provide a way for you to contact them.”

  “Only one arrived,” she said. “There were no people aboard. You promised to send ships with people to maintain the habitat our people built. Those ships were supposed to take those who wanted to return back to Earth.” She spoke as though it had happened yesterday.

  The Indians in the village near Oconto, where I grew up, passed their oral history down to succeeding generations with the same passion. Time seemed not to exist. They spoke of each offense, war, or historical event as if all of it had happened yesterday.

  I could only assume that these people passed their history down with the same intensity, which would explain why this twelve-year-old sitting before me would react to a three-hundred-year-old offense as if it had happened to her.

  “There were no people, and the ship was incapable of returning to Earth,” she continued. “We were stranded here. Now you return 321 years later. We suffered greatly and barely survived under the harsh conditions of this land. Yet now World Space Coalition claims all we have built as theirs. They call us Colony as though we belong to them. We belong to no one.” She emphasized the last words.

  I began to understand these people’s animosity.

  Heads nodded. Soft voices confirmed her speech. According to them, she’d spoken well.

  “If we had heard from you . . . ” I stopped. Trying to vindicate Earth was not going to work. We both needed to know the facts. “What happened after the first people landed?”

  “Hawk landed first, 3 kilometers from shore. That ship carried the power source for the new colony. There were 900 people aboard that ship.

  “Shortly after, a ferocious storm hit. Those who were outside were lost. The force of the storm was so strong it pulled Hawk toward the ocean. The thirty-two people inside the ship were the only ones to survive.”