by E J Randolph
Pierre stretched out his long legs. “As you may know, the Federation reconnoiters planets where generation ships are still expected. They knew the arrival window for this planet. On the first pass no one was there. Ten years later here was this ship orbiting the planet.” He shook his head. “Weird thing, there was no sign of human presence on the planet, so the survey crew interrogated the generation ship's onboard computer. They found the life support systems were operational, and they tried to communicate with anyone onboard the ship, but there was no response even though human life was confirmed by the computer as being onboard. There was even imagery of bearded men and long-haired women.”
For several seconds he lapsed into silence. “I was in command of the boarding party.” He looked in the distance for a few seconds. “We approached and tried every communication device and language we had. No answer. We detected life about halfway in – near the mess area.” He stared upward as if envisioning the scene.
I touched his arm and he shook himself. “We docked on one of the designated docking pods. They’d never been used, so we had to bang on bolts and hinges to get the portals to open.” He shook his head. “Imagine that. Here we were with all the sophisticated, high tech gear imaginable, and to get in we had to use a sledgehammer. I was surprised we had one onboard. We got the pressure portals open and went in wearing full suits since we didn’t know if the portals would fail after we pounded on them.”
I nodded.
“We got in, shut the portals, and our scans told us the atmosphere was breathable and clean. We took off our helmets. Guidance from our ship told us life was ahead of us, closer to the residential decks, perhaps even in the central atrium. We pushed forward since it was clear the ventilation systems were working.”
“What happened then?” I inched to the front of the bench.
He grabbed my hand. “Come on, I’ll show you on the model. It’ll be easier for you to understand.”
We walked to the aft end and he pointed to the portals. “We came in that way. We passed by the unused ferry craft, then entered into the cylinder. Remember, the cylinder spun so there was approximately one Earth gravity near the exterior skin where the living quarters were.” We walked forward and he pointed. “You can see those over there. On the interior down the center, there was zero gravity, so we flew through the mechanical sections and storage rooms into the hydroponics area stretching to either side. I decided to move to the living zone. We hit greater gravity and had to use the ladders and hand rails.”
“Is this when you ran into the people?”
“Not at first.” He pointed ahead. “Here is the atrium extending for a quarter kilometer and running across the full width of the ship.” He raised his arm above his head. “Imagine that! Trees and bushes growing, their tops pointed inward toward the center. A whole circle.”
“I can imagine it. The monad where I grew up had a central shaft extending the whole height of the building. On every floor, balconies ringed this shaft and had trees and bushes growing on them, bringing a touch of nature to each floor. This is similar. Only on a generation ship, there are ponds and winding paths through a bigger volume of space.”
He nodded.
“Was no one there?”
“Totally free of human life. But all the way through it, we had this feeling we were being watched.”
I shivered.
“Yeah, it was one of those hair-standing-on-the back-of-your-neck feelings. I was glad we’d brought light side arms.” He paused for a moment. “We approached the hatch to the mess area, and this small person, totally unkempt, wild looking, wearing almost nothing, popped out of the bushes. It jumped back in the bushes and giggled.”
Pierre looked at me with wide eyes. “The guys dropped to the ground, weapons at the ready. I waved my arms back and forth and yelled out, 'Hold your fire. It’s a child. Keep going forward. Where there are kids, there are parents.' But by now I was wondering what we’d find.”
He stopped and stared at the model. “We entered the large mess area. It was full of adults and children. You should have heard all the noise. The hatch behind us clanged shut, and everyone froze. We stared at them and they stared back. Words like savages and wild beings streaked across my mind. Dress seemed optional. Hair was worn long on both sexes. The men had untrimmed, flowing beards. I had a sense of communal intermingling – no family groups, just men, women, and tons of kids.”
“What?”
Pierre held up his hand. “One of the men came forward. He appeared to be close to forty years old, about the oldest in the group. Around his waist, he wore a short, brocaded cloth. He asked, 'Are you from God?'”
I gasped.
“Yeah, that stopped me stone-cold dead, but I did what any right thinking, moderately intelligent man would have done in the circumstances. I said, 'We’re from God.' I remembered thinking, I wish I hadn’t studied geology at the academy but something useful – like theology.”
I chuckled.
“Then I asked, 'God?' The man turned to the viewing portal off to one side and watched the planet below slip out of sight as the generation ship rotated. He nodded gravely. 'Yes, God. The shiny, blue ball we circle endlessly, condemned by the sins of our fathers to view but never set foot upon.'”
“Oh.” I put my hand to my mouth.
“Around the room, everyone murmured agreement and chanted, 'To view but never arrive. To see, but never touch.' I tried to communicate on this level. 'God may forgive. Tell us your story.' The wild man took several steps back. 'Are you the messengers or the tempters?' I held up my hands. 'In truth, we are but messengers.' Everyone nodded and murmured something.
Pierre stared at his hands. “I can still remember the man’s exact starting words.” He took a deep breath. “'It was the time of blood, and everyone had to die.'”
I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Yeah, it was eerie alright. What followed was a long epic poem. I don’t pretend to remember it, but I will give you a synopsis of what happened as best I could put it together.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Before I begin, let me explain something. Onboard this generation ship, the leaders had set up the reproduction cycles for ten year intervals to fully educate and socially integrate each cohort before the next one came along. The time of blood occurred near the end of a cycle. The children that survived were all eight or nine years old. Members of an older group were eighteen and nineteen standard years old. I don’t know what started it, presumably someone at Central knows, but they’re not talking.”
“I haven’t heard anything about a lost generation ship filled only with children. Not even the hint of a rumor.”
“That figures. Well, what we do know is that all adults onboard, all twenty-five thousand plus, died in an indescribable orgy of violence that extended over several weeks. The other thing we know is that in the course of the slaughter, no one tried to disable the ship's systems. Since the decision to land on the target planet had already been made, the ship's onboard systems were capable of achieving a parking orbit around the planet.”
I shook my head. “Do you mean twenty-five thousand people killed each other?”
He stared into the model's atrium as though he could find an answer there. “This is another unknown, but I sense after the initial wave of killing, there was an outbreak of suicide. Individual and group. Regrets, guilt, fear, shear revulsion perhaps.” His voice cracked. “These were Europe's best and brightest. Technocrats, researchers, scholars.” He raised his hands as if to hold back the memories.
“Before the lid of secrecy clamped down on it, I saw some of the ship's internal video archives. In one of these a group of perhaps two or three hundred crowded into one of the air locks and ejected themselves into the vacuum of space, holding hands as their lungs exploded and their skin froze solid in a froth of blood.”
He shook his head violently as if to clear the memory. “Some of the kids survived. Around one hundred fifty of them
, three to one in favor of girls. Since the ship's systems were still intact, and they had received some basic education, they survived.”
I put my hand on his arm. “Did those little kids have to dispose of the bodies?”
“No, the cleaning robots picked up everything. Organic matter went into compost and was recycled, and inorganic materials went to feed the ion drive.”
I stared at the model, envisioning the scenes. How horrible!
“Do you want to see the modern exhibits?”
“No. I want to walk outside. Someplace where there are trees and grass and where I can breathe fresh air.”
“Where you can hear the crash of the surf?”
“You know of such a place?”
He winked at me. “Sure do.”
We hurried out of the museum and called up a robotaxi. Pierre instructed it to take us past the docks servicing the trade to the three other land masses on the planet. At the entrance to an area of winding paths and picnic tables, he told the robotaxi to stop and wait. He led the way to a rock outcropping above the pounding surf. Below, the waves crashed on the rocks, eddied, and fell back.
Pierre stuck his hands in his pockets. The wind whipped an unruly lock of curly, black hair across his forehead making him look boyishly vulnerable.
I raised my arms and swept them in a circle. “To stand on ground like this is why humans will go for generations squeezed in a can.”
A wide smile creased his face. “Or fly today in a faster-than-light spacecraft with the ever present risk of flicker fever.”
We looked at each other and smiled.
His masculine scent filled my nostrils, and his lips touched mine. A liquid warmth shot through my body. I circled his neck with my hands, and his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me to him. Some long moments later he released me, and I snuggled into the curve of his arms.
I pushed my head into his chest. “There’s something about space travel – maybe the coldness of space, its sheer emptiness, its implacable bleakness and blackness – that gives me an overwhelming need to feel soil under my feet, walk under trees, and breathe fresh air.” I gulped. “That story today about all those people living generations onboard a spaceship moving silently through the vastness of space–” I shook my head. “Back on Central I rent an apartment near the mountains so I can hike in them everyday I’m in home port. I know it’s an extravagant expense, but I really need it between assignments.”
I closed my eyes and listened to the pounding of the surf. Pierre’s chest moved as he breathed. I swayed.
“Want another?” His voice was husky.
My answer was swallowed in another lingering kiss.
“I understand.” His voice vibrated in his chest.
“I’d like to change my clothes. I’ve worn the same thing for three days now, and even though I’ve cleaned it in the hotel room air cleaner, I’d like to wear something more festive than a uniform.”
He brushed my lips with his. “Will you spend the evening with me?”
“You bet.” I grinned.
CHAPTER FIVE
*<>*
I T WAS about an hour’s drive in a robotaxi to the spaceport where Miss Appropriation was docked. I expected Nick to be there overseeing the maintenance overhaul, but not necessarily any of the other members of the crew. They were only present if an upgrade was complex and needed extra pairs of eyes and hands. I walked into the commons with Pierre in tow and stopped. All the guys were present.
Dan dropped his jaw. “Kate. We thought we’d never see you again.”
“Don't be silly.”
Ricardo turned to Dan and scrunched his face. “Who’s Kate?”
I stuck my tongue out.
John stood, eyes on Pierre. He hitched his uniform and stretched a hand out. “I’m John, captain of this lash-up.”
“Pierre Leden, executive officer of the medium combatant, Canopus.”
“Why don't you sit a spell.”
Oh no, John was getting big brother on me. He’d better go easy on Pierre. I didn't want him spooked.
I pointed to a set of chairs to one side. “These are for visitors. Help yourself to any one of them. I’m going to change clothes.”
Pierre sat, and a lazy grin spread across his face. He leaned back and stretched out his long legs.
John gave him a brief, hard look and headed toward the food fabricator. “What’s your poison?”
I sped to my quarters, tossed off my uniform, and reached in my closet for the clingy, red silk dress with the plunging neckline I’d brought along for such an occasion. I looked at the overhead. “What do you think, Miss A? Do you think he’s cute?”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
“Oh, come on, Miss A, he’s a hunk.”
She didn’t reply for several seconds. “I’m not certain I can judge that. The young man's features are not quite regular, and his legs are too long to be perfectly proportioned. As for being a hunk, I’ll take your word for that.”
“Miss A, he’s very nice. He has a friendly smile. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”
“Has he kissed you again?”
Heat rose up my neck.
“My sensors show a significant reaction on your part. Does that mean he has or you would like him to?”
“He has.” I was sure her sensors showed another big reaction.
She laughed, a soft, tinkling sound. “I hope you have a good time.”
“Me, too.”
I hurried to the commons. Pierre and John's heads were close together, and they appeared engrossed in intense conversation. They were so intent on each other they didn’t notice my grand entrance. I cleared my throat.
Both men looked up, and Pierre smiled. “You look great!”
John glanced at Pierre and frowned.
Pierre held up a hand. “It’ll be just a minute.” He turned to John and said something. John asked another question.
One minute passed followed by another. And, another. I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. “I’m going to my quarters and change my outfit.”
“Sure, fine.” Pierre didn’t look at me.
I stomped down the passageway to my quarters and shut the hatch. I heaved a big sigh. “Miss A, I take back everything nice I said about Pierre.”
“He’s being rude.”
I gazed at myself in my mirror. “Miss A, do you think I look good?”
“If you’re asking are you attractive, the answer is yes. Your eyes are a nice shade of green. Your brown hair is curly, and I understand that’s an attractive feature. Your facial features are quite regular, your lips are full and well shaped, and your skin is a color which becomes you. Finally, your curves are in the right amounts and in the correct places to interest men. My files on this are extensive.”
My cheeks burned. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. By the way, Kate, I researched the term hunk, and your use of the term for Lt. Colonel Leden is quite appropriate.”
“Maybe he’s the problem. I hardly know him. He might have a girl somewhere.”
“Most men his age do.”
“You’re right. Or maybe he’s afraid of getting too close. He’s on a short TDY. What if he fell in love and had to leave? I think he wouldn’t want to do that.”
“You have a point.”
“Come to think of it, I don't need to get my heart broken by getting too close to this guy.”
“Now, that’s good thinking.”
I nodded. “Thank you for understanding.”
“That’s what I am here for.”
I tossed my red silk dress into the closet and stood for a moment with clenched fists. I shook my head. I didn’t need romantic fantasies. Now, where were those jeans? I grabbed them and a bright turquoise button-down blouse. I thrust my feet into a pair of low-cut boots with a moderate heel and complemented them with a matching brown belt adorned with a burnished copper buckle. I brushed my hair and walked to the commons determined to have a go
od time. I grabbed a cup of tea from the food fabricator and walked to the guys.
Pierre’s hands were raised. “A flank attack was all we could mount.” His voice rose. “Their fighters were hyped up on some kind of drug, and they fought like superhuman dervishes. They had holes in them big enough to see daylight through, and they still kept coming. We called them the walking, fighting dead.”
John’s body was tense, and his eyes were fixed on Pierre's face.
I sighed. This conversation could go on for hours. At dinnertime Ricardo joined the conversation along with Dan, and for a short while even Nick. I finished my meal and yawned. I’d had enough. I went to my quarters, watched a movie, and went to sleep.
The next morning I stumbled into the commons for tea. Pierre had pushed several chairs together and fallen asleep. His face had a pronounced boyish vulnerability. I approached, and he opened one eye.
“Good morning, sleepy head.”
He groaned, propped himself up on his elbows and looked around, eyes blinking. He swung his legs down and sat. “Kate, I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I know you expected to go out.” He shook his head. “Just got started talking….” He spread his hands, palms up.
“I should have known once John found out you fought in the October Disturbance, he’d get you talking and keep you talking.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Like any girl, I don't like to be ignored. But these guys are my friends, and I can’t start a relationship with a guy who doesn’t get along with my friends. To be sure, there were a few trade-offs to be made I hadn’t considered.” Yeah, a lot more than I like.
“You’re a good lady.”
If he only knew.
Shebang walked toward me with a loud, peremptory meow.
“I bet you’re interested in breakfast.”
She waved her tail and stalked to the food fabricator.
Of course, I’d been gone for a few days, and Shebang wanted to make sure I was still reliable in the food department. “Sardines?”
She swished her luxurious, gray tail.
Naturally. It was almost always her first choice. I punched it up and placed the plate in front of her.