“How’s your mom?” I ask as I pull back from her.
“She was fine until this morning, or earlier, I’m still struggling with time of day.” Cassandra smiles meekly.
“What happened this morning?” I ask.
“My mom and most of the others started getting real spacey. Drugs were never a huge thing in my circles, but it seems like everyone was getting high.” She fills us in.
“Hey, Francisco has been acting pretty wasted too.” Liam contributes.
“I was really spooked because I wasn’t sure if it was them or me. I kept pinching myself,” She holds out an arm covered in black and blues, “but all that did was hurt.”
“Well, you seem with it. Liam and I are still with it too. Wait, did you say the others? Francisco said that you and your mom were the only other survivors.” I question her.
“What? We were all there and safe when he left. How about your plane? Everyone okay?” She looks to Francisco, who has not left the slow moving river.
“All except Jake. He was out of his seat when we hit. Banged his head pretty hard and has been unconscious since.” I relay the status.
In the water I see a candy wrapper float aimlessly past. Where humans go, trash will follow. I’m embarrassed that we are already polluting this planet, but before I can grab the wrapper it is far down river. Unfortunately it also means that the others are tearing through food haphazardly.
“We need to figure out why they’re stoned and get things under control. It looks like they’re wasting food and we can’t afford that. How far is it to your camp?” I would love to rest some more but we don’t have time.
“Not far. Come on.” Cassandra turns and heads up river.
“You get Francisco and try to keep up.” I tell Liam.
A big part of me wants to ditch him so he knows how it feels to be alone and looking for someone. But I push that out of my head. I need to get past these petty revenges.
We walk for no more than thirty minutes when a sad, humorous scene appears in front of me.
It looks like the pilot did an amazing job of getting the fuselage of the plane lined up with the river. The body of the plane is whole and sitting with its tail in the river and it’s nose propped up on the bank. The wings are nowhere to be seen and all the glass appears to have shattered, but that is not where the humor comes from.
Scattered around the riverbank are small groups of people tearing into boxes like it was Christmas morning. Food is being opened, sloppily aimed at mouths and partially eaten before getting tossed to the side. It reminds me of my dad’s description of a Las Vegas buffet at three in the morning.
What could it be that has the adults affected while the younger people are fine? This did not happened at our camp, so I am guessing it is something environmental. I look around for clues but nothing catches my eye.
“Have you been staying hydrated?” I ask Cassandra.
“That was a problem for a bit. The water is packed in the middle of the cargo pile because of its weight and propensity to move. We pulled all these boxes out in an effort to get to it but wound up stopping short.” Cassandra has her hands on her hips.
“Why did you stop?” I want to know.
“The plane felt unstable as the weight was reduced. We were afraid that it might wash downriver if we kept unpacking.” She explains.
“And it’s hard to find loose items out here to use for ballast.” I add.
“But we were thirsty. One of the guys was able to saw off a few leaves. He used them to make an aqueduct-type thing and bring water out from the river and into a temporary leaf basin.” She nods at his remarkable feat of engineering.
I can see that getting to the water’s edge from this location on the river is difficult. The bank here is steep and muddy, allowing you to get down, but not back up. The aqueduct design is ingenious and I am impressed.
“So you’ve all been drinking from this leaf basin?” Liam walks over to it and scoops a handful to sip.
“Well except me. I’m kind of allergic to pollen and I thought it might be extra bad if I ingested pollen from and alien planet. So I’ve been walking down river to where I found you and getting my water from the source.” Cassandra smiles sheepishly, the nerd with allergies is an embarrassing cliché.
Next steps seem impossible to formulate. There are three sober young adults and nine totally wasted grown ups. They need to stop wasting food and getting drunk, but I don’t know how to get through to them.
I can’t decide if this spot is better than ours or worse. My gut tells me that the river is a good thing and we should stay next to the steady water. It likely won’t be my decision and for now the priority is to get back to camp so I can get the reactor started and project the containment field.
Leaving these people here like this is not a good idea. Trying to get them to traipse through the jungle where something lives also feels like a big mistake. If Cassandra couldn’t control them I have little chance to either.
My hand reaches into my pack and pulls out the water bottle. It’s almost becoming a habit when I need to think. Carefully I open the top and take a long pull, there is probably enough left for one more drink.
“You can use some of our water if you want.” Cassandra waves her hand at the leaf basin full of liquid.
It feels like she’s trying to trick me but I’m not sure why.
“Seriously Seamus, this water tastes so much better than ours.” Liam encourages me before taking a long drink directly from the leaf.
“What do you think about the leaf pollen being a narcotic?” I ask Cassandra casually.
Liam overhears and pauses in mid drink to look at me.
“And the water washes it off the leaf and then we, or they, ingest it when they drink.” She states.
“Wanna bet?” I hold out my hand but Cassandra doesn’t shake on it.
“Does this mean I’m going to get high?” Liam asks cautiously.
“Yes Liam, I think you’re going to get high.” Cassandra has bought into my theory.
“Although at our camp Sofie is the only one who has drunk the water, until Liam just did. She didn’t get high, but she has been ill.” I think out loud.
“Well I have been drinking the water and haven’t felt any side effects. These guys got like this about twelve to fourteen hours ago. If it were just the water I would be as high as they are by now.” Her attention to detail is refreshing.
Translating knowledge to social action is not my strong suit. Now that we have a pretty good idea that the leaves have narcotic pollen that causes humans to become intoxicated, what do I do about it? I’m not sure any of them would have listened to me sober, persuading them to stop drinking delicious water while they are high is not going to be easy.
None of the two-way radios made it off the plane. I have no way to contact mom or dad and Cassandra does not know how to get back to our camp. If she had an idea to get them moving she would have done it by now.
“We need to get them down stream to where we met up with you.” I tell Cassandra.
“I don’t see how that will help.” She still likes to understand the ‘why’ of my actions even though I have proven that my instincts are often correct.
“They have to stop drinking leaf water and I think our best bet for that to happen is if we have a replacement to offer. Fresh, clean river water, try some today!” I use my best television commercial voice.
She doesn’t buy what I’m selling. I can’t believe that she’s going to dig her heals in on this. It’s another case where she does not have a better idea but doesn’t like mine. The ‘not invented here’ syndrome is strong in this one.
A sudden commotion draws my attention. Liam has crashed into the leaf aqueduct and is staggering towards the basin. My heart leaps into my throat. He may be having a more violent, toxic reaction to the pollen. I run to him and get there just after he face plants next to the leaf full of water.
His hands fumble for the bottom of the leaf a
nd he lifts. The leaves are heavy to begin with, full of water it likely weighs over one hundred pounds and my brother has no leverage.
“Little help.” He grumbles as our eyes meet.
He’s not high yet. This is all an act. If the water supply is disrupted we’ll have no choice but to move where we can get fresh water more easily. There is no way any of them can rebuild the aqueduct in their state.
“Liam!” I exaggerate my yell and the level of concern.
Lying prone next to him I reach my hands under the basin and we start to lift together while I pretend to be helping him to his feet. The leaf does not budge.
“The hell with this.” I say under my breath while getting to my feet.
Squatting down I place my hands under the leaf and lift up. Water pours out and puddles on the ground before disappearing.
“Whoa. Dude that’s our water.” A few of the drunkards utter to no one in particular.
“Man. I’m sorry bro. Let’s grab a nosh and go down there. We can put our feet in the water and totally chill.” My brother the actor grabs a handful of food and starts walking down river.
I can tell that Liam is not yet high but the others are open to suggestion. A motley crew stumbles slowly down along side the river. Some of them have trouble balancing with arms full of food; others take a few minutes to catch on and watch confused from where they are sitting.
Sipping from my water bottle I check the plane and make sure everyone had gone in front of me. Francisco is one of the stragglers and I can see him reaching around to his pack. His head shakes slowly and his hand goes to the back of his neck. I catch up to him and pull his water bottle out and place it carefully in his hand.
“Thanks.” He says, and then does a double take. “Hey Seamus, when did you get here?”
Chapter 15
It was about ten hours after we moved down river that the calls for coffee began. Francisco had sobered up first and it was not a pretty sight. He couldn’t hold down water and had cold sweats and the shakes. Cassandra and I were concerned that it might be another reaction to the water but Francisco assured us it was a hangover, just the worst one he’d ever had.
Since Liam was the last one to ingest the narcotic water he was just getting high while the others were going through withdrawals. In his drunken state he confessed to me that it was not the first time he had been drunk and that he and his friends were sneaking beers in the ninth grade.
Cassandra was nice to everyone but she really focused her attention on her mother. I had the impression that she was mad at me but then realized that I didn’t really care. Once I stopped obsessing about it her attitude seemed to improve.
“So what’s the plan genius?” She asks me with a condescending tone.
On my way here the plan was clear. Retrieve Jane and Cassandra and go back to the fire circle. But now instead of five of us there are twelve and we won’t be bringing much food.
In addition to the extra food we didn’t know about the river. I’m not sure how the river changes things but something inside tells me that it does. I really wish Dad were here, he could make a call in just a few minutes. Do I bring our group here or this group there?
“We didn’t know about the river. I feel like that changes things but I don’t know how.” I answer, but it’s kind of an irrelevant thought.
“That’s a statement, not a plan.” Cassandra points out, not gently.
“Were you able to salvage the reactors?” I try and shift the subject.
“No. The warp unit sheared off with the wings, the sail unit must have dropped on impact.” She’s already thought about them, which is a good sign.
“The spare?” I ask.
“Under water, probably damaged from the crash.” She replies.
Suddenly the ground starts to shake and a loud rumbling can be heard. The trees are swaying vigorously and some leaves are even falling. My face goes pale and I lower myself to the ground for balance and stability.
Cassandra smiles at me as if this were some kind of joke. Her reaction is more calm but still cautious. She slowly drops to one knee and places both hands firmly on the ground.
After almost thirty seconds of shaking and rumbling everything is still and quiet. I give a deep sigh of relief and look around to make sure that everyone is okay.
“First earth quake?” Cassandra asks.
“We’ve had a few already, but not as strong or as long. And by the way, we’re not on Earth anymore.” I smirk, keeping our tradition of snark.
“Fine, was this your first ‘this planet’ quake?” She counters.
“My Dad named it Locus and that has sort of stuck with the rest of us.” I suddenly miss my dad tremendously.
“Latin for ‘opportunity.’ Works for me.” She replies and I am jealous that she knew what it meant.
From the jungle comes a rustling that is distinctly different from the quake a few moments earlier. Part of me wants to see what is making the commotion, the other part is scared to death that it’s the last thing I would ever see.
In addition to the leaves and trees moving there are other sounds. Clicks and whirs start to echo all around us. They sound almost mechanical but I can’t pick out a rhythm or pattern in the cacophony. Are they making noise in reaction to the quake or have they just noticed us?
“How far is your camp?” Cassandra looks frightened for the first time since we have joined up.
“Quite a ways, but we should head out soon.” I agree with her thinking completely.
“Have you heard these noises before?” She accuses me without saying so.
“Just before we got to the river we heard some rustling. Liam and I freaked out and ran so we didn’t get to investigate.” I tell the truth even though I want to lie.
“Lets give Liam another hour and then we’ll head out. I’m going to try and collect some supplies.” Cassandra gets to her feet and takes a step in the direction of the plane.
The rustling intensifies and Cassandra stops dead in her tracks. While she is still there is almost no sound at all.
Cautiously she takes another step and the jungle erupts in sound. Her movement stops but I cannot see her face. I stare intently at her back, looking for the rise and fall of her breath but see nothing. After what seems like an eternity I see her inhale and exhale slowly but other than that she is perfectly still.
“Seamus, do you have any ibuprofen or anything?” Liam hollers at me from the water’s edge.
The noise from the bushes along the river is deafening. My hands go to my ears and I tuck my chin into my chest. My body is tense and I’m waiting for a searing pain to indicate that an alien creature has attacked me.
Several minutes later my hands come down and the noise recedes off into the jungle.
“Did anyone see anything?” I call out, hoping that we have a visual on these creatures.
Pained looks are all I receive in response. Even absolute terror cannot jolt them from their hangovers.
“At least we know that loud noises scare them off.” Liam smiles weakly.
“Your hour is up. We are leaving now.” Cassandra says in reply.
Francisco doesn’t remember our camp at all. But even hung over he is the intelligent, resourceful person I would have expected. It doesn’t take him long to find the trail we followed here and he slowly leads the banged up group up the switchback and off into the underbrush.
Cassandra and I go back to the plane to gather supplies. They were so careless with the food it kills me. There are partially opened packages of crackers laying on the ground and vacuum-sealed bundles of jerky unopened under random pieces of cardboard.
I wade through the stream and climb into the remnants of the plane. Inside is a total wreck. It appears as though the restraints for the pile of supplies failed during their landing. The load not only shifted, but scattered. It’s no wonder that they could not find bottles of water or the tools needed to open some of the provisions. But it’s all here, we just need time to colle
ct it.
Now is not the time, however. I’m searching for a bag or a pack of some kind. Cassandra is outside filling mine with whatever food remnants lay discarded. She was disgusted with the idea that someone would have to eat a half chewed protein bar, but when the alternative was clear she got onboard quickly.
Once I have climbed over the clutter I scramble up the stairs to the cockpit. Pilots are planners and there is a good chance that one of them had a go bag stashed in the cockpit with them.
Being inside provides a feeling of safety and security that is refreshing. For a moment I wonder why they were all outside waiting when they could have remained in the shelter of the plane. The bead of sweat that runs down my cheek and drips off my chin gives me the answer.
Even in the cooling water the plane is exposed to the harsh rays of the sun. It’s aluminum skin absorbing the heat and creating an oven inside. My guess is that it’s over one hundred degrees in the cockpit. I can’t believe that we didn’t bring some thermometers to get accurate temperature readings.
Slung over the back of the pilots seat is a brown camouflaged rucksack. It looks full and when I go to lift it I find that it is far heavier than I anticipated. I flip open the top and look inside. There are four bottles of water, several protein bars and a blanket tucked down one side. Peaking from the folds of the blanket I can see the black steel of a gun.
The adults had a drawn out debate about bringing weapons. A simple majority did not feel that weapons made sense in space. Those in favor of weapons acknowledged concern about weapons in space but felt there may be a need for them on the new planet.
In the end the weight argument won out and weapons were not packed as part of our supplies. I’m guessing that there was no stance on individual decisions to bring a weapon, or at least if there was it did not go heeded.
I don’t know that meeting an alien race with lethal force would set the best foundation for civility. But I do know that being eaten by an alien on first encounter would not be a good way to start out on a new planet either.
Colonization (The Seamus Chronicles Book 3) Page 8