Alone in the Crowd (The Chronicles of Anna Foster Book 3)

by Patrick Stutzman

  His first thought was to run back to the river and flee to the protection of the colony, or even the soldiers at the pyramid. Surely they would have the means to keep any harm from coming to him. Then again, he figured they would probably just laugh it off as another way for him to keep getting attention after finding the pyramid yesterday. After the humiliation he had experienced earlier, he was not keen for a repeat.

  Jason determined that if the owner of the garden was watching him, he would have taken some sort of action by now. Since he felt in no immediate danger, perhaps this mysterious farmer would be benevolent enough to let him take a few vegetables if he asked. He decided to seek out the farmer, introduce himself, and ask for a sampling of his garden. He might even make a new friend out of it.

  Jason observed the tree line and deduced where the center of the clearing should be. Reasoning that anyone living here would naturally build their home there, he set out in that direction. He walked for about fifty meters or so, when he happened across a robot of some sort lying in the grass. From the equipment installed on its frame, he figured it was some sort of labor drone – possibly designed for farming or some other form of harvest, considering its proximity to the garden. He scrutinized the machine and concluded that it had sat in the field without power for some time. The signs of rust on its outer shell reinforced this reasoning. He decided to look at it later and moved past it, pursuing his original bearing.

  Deep in thought, he almost ran into the side of a pure white metal wall. In contrast to the drone, the wall gleamed in the shade it created, and looked to be several meters tall.

  “Perhaps this is where the farmer lives,” Jason muttered.

  He reached his hand toward the wall, when he thought about the scenario again. He did not know anything about this wall or why it was here. He withdrew his hand and pulled out his hand scanner instead. He calibrated the sensors and swept it over the metal plate. Several seconds later, the readout indicated the temperature of the metal and the presence of any EM signatures, which appeared to be none. He returned the scanner to its pocket in his backpack and, with trepidation, reached out and placed his hand against the metal surface, wincing as he did so, almost as if he expected something bad to happen. A few seconds passed, and only the wind blowing through the grass reached his ears. He opened his eyes and smiled after breathing a sigh of relief. With his hand on the wall, he followed its length, hoping to find a door or some other feature that would allow him to find its owner.

  A couple of minutes passed with Jason following the wall until the top edge dropped to about half its height and gently sloped downward until it reached the ground. The ground next to the metal structure was greatly disturbed as if the metal had dug out a long trench. He walked to the end of the tilled soil and looked back toward the white metal wall. Staring back at him was a wide window that opened to a dusky room on the other side.

  “This is a starship.”

  Jason glanced around, half expecting to find somebody there. Seeing nobody, he placed a foot onto the ship’s nose, testing his weight. When the hull plating did not give, he shifted his weight. The ship’s white metal skin supported him with no trouble. He nodded with a hint of a smile and walked onto the downed craft and up to the window. Looking through it, he saw what appeared to be a rather spacious bridge, but no one was inside. He climbed up the nose and onto the roof, easily finding a hatch about halfway back the length of the craft’s six-meter-wide fuselage. As the hatch was open, he climbed down the ladder and found only a glowing red button next to a tall hatch set in the wall. This hatch would lead the entrant toward the front of the ship. With nowhere else to go, he reached a finger toward the button with hesitation…and jumped slightly when the upper hatch closed and the one in front of him opened.

  Startled, Jason stepped onto the dimly-lit bridge and looked around, vaguely noting that the air was not stale. Surely there must be someone, pilot or crew member, still around. The ship was quiet except for a slight hum that originated somewhere behind him, which made him feel a bit uneasy.

  “Hello?”

  He heard nothing.

  Jason took a deep breath and moved toward the forward viewscreen, where he saw a single, black padded seat positioned in front of three holographic lenses spaced wide apart on the forward console. He circled around the seat and sat down, sinking into its comfortable cushions with ease. He leaned forward and pored over the central column holding the largest lens. Not finding any button to press to activate the hologram, he touched the small tower and frowned when nothing happened. He waved his fingers over the lens, and jerked backwards when the panel lit up the space in front of him. Smiling after a second, he examined the display, pointing to some of the ones he recognized from holovids he had seen back on Earth. As he experimented with the display, he felt like a little boy playing with a new toy on his birthday.

  Something cold and hard pressed against the back of his head. It felt like a gun. He froze.

  Chapter 5

  “Don’t move. Don’t turn around. Slowly put your hands in the air.” The female voice carried a serious, almost harsh tone from behind Jason’s head.

  He raised his hands above his head, pushing aside any surprise at hearing the armed woman’s words spoken in English in favor of following her instructions. He felt the cold, hard item jostle slightly on the back of his head and cringed as the lady withdrew his pistol from its holster against his leg. He had forgotten it was there.

  The woman applied more pressure with her weapon, rocking his head forward. Then, she spoke again. “Put your hands on your head and get on the floor.”

  Jason did as she said and slid off the chair to his knees, placing his hands behind his head as he did so. His stomach turned at the thought that these may be his last moments.

  “Take off your backpack and slowly toss it behind you,” she ordered.

  He tried to stay calm. His stomach became queasy, and he felt a cold sweat form on his brow and chest. “It’s only food.”

  “I will not repeat myself.”

  “I’d have to take my hands off my head…”

  “Don’t be a smart ass.” She sounded a bit annoyed. “Just do it.”

  Shrugging the straps from his shoulders, he slid the backpack to the floor, catching it in his hand just before it touched down. As he returned his free hand to his head, he tossed the bag to the side out of arm’s reach. A few seconds later, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a flash of long, light blonde hair by the backpack just before it disappeared out of view. The sound of the zipper being undone was soon followed by that of the contents being moved about.

  Jason turned his head enough to catch a glimpse of his captor. Standing a few meters behind the chair, the woman’s light, almost-platinum blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders and reached down to the middle of her back. It was well-groomed considering her state of dress. The clothes she wore on her tanned, athletic body – a brown leather tank top and a matching garment that looked to be a mix of a short skirt and loincloth – seemed oddly matched with the more modern-looking tool belt she wore around her waist, which held a long flashlight and an assortment of high-tech tools. While she rummaged through the backpack with one hand, the other grasped a pistol that appeared only a few years out of date.

  Jason snapped his head back to face front as she looked up. “Food? My food, mostly. Tomaras don’t normally grow this big. They’re only this big because I cultivated them. These ball peppers aren’t even ripe yet! Do you have any idea how long it takes these to grow?”

  He heard her soft footfalls come closer, and the muzzle of her pistol pressed against the back of his head again. A short distance behind his ear, she seethed, “Who are you? And, how did you get here?”

  He gulped, thinking it was loud enough for her to hear. “J…Jason Fuller. I’m a…a forager for the colony.”

  “Colony? What colony?”

  “The one on the west side of the lake.”

  She paused for a mo
ment. “How long has it been here?” The tone in her voice was calmer than before.

  “Only a couple of days.”

  The woman fell silent for a while, but kept the gun to his head. He wondered how much longer it would be before she shot him. The gun dropped away, to his surprise, and he heard her footsteps move away from him.

  “How many colonists are there?”

  “Five hundred men, women, and children.”

  “Five hundred? How many other colonies are here on Paradise?”

  “Haven.”

  She paused again. “What?”

  “Haven. That’s the name of the moon we’re on.”

  She sighed. “So much for my fortune.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She ignored his question. “So, how many other colonies are there here?”

  “We’re the first.”

  “Is the colony ship still in orbit?”

  Jason started to turn his head.

  “Don’t turn around!”

  He faced forward again. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I believe it’s still up there.”

  “Good. What you need to do is go back to your colony and tell them to pack everything up, get back on board the ship, and go find another planet to colonize.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

  “The administrator is going to want to know.”

  “Then, he is a fool and will sentence you all to your deaths, unless you leave.”

  “What am I supposed to tell her?”

  The woman spoke with slow, deliberation. “Tell her that, unless you all leave, you’re all going to die. Now go.”

  Jason leaped to his feet and bolted for the airlock, not looking back. He reached the airlock door and slapped the switch to open it.

  * * * * *

  “Kate, allow him to get out,” she said after he entered the airlock.

  Seconds later, the sounds of running feet echoed through the bridge as Jason ran to the front of the ship, jumped off, and headed into the field beyond.

  “I don’t understand, Anna.” The holographic image of Kate digitized into view in the middle of the bridge. She wore a white cotton tank top and blue jeans. “Why did you tell him that they were going to die if they didn’t leave?”

  Anna turned on her bare foot to face the avatar. “In the ten years I’ve been marooned on this god-forsaken moon, how many times have I encountered that race with the three arms and legs?”

  “Thirteen times.”

  “How many of those encounters turned out well?”

  “Two.”

  “So with that in mind, what are the odds that the first encounter a fledgling colony has with them will turn out positive?”

  Kate turned a thoughtful look toward the ceiling. “Well, if you consider the… ”

  “Don’t calculate the precise number! Just say if it’s good or bad.”

  “Not good.”

  “So?”

  “Telling them to leave before encountering the others could potentially save their lives,” concluded Kate.

  “There we go.”

  “But,” Kate added, while pointing to the floor at the human’s feet. “I think you forgot something.”

  Anna followed her finger. “What are you…oh, crap! I forgot to give him his gun back!”

  * * * * *

  Jason dashed through the woods and along the river bank until he reached the place where the river from the lake fed into the one that led to the water wheel. He stopped there long enough to calm his breathing before wading to the other side and picking up the pace back toward the pyramid.

  After stopping a couple more times, he saw his skycycle with the two guards standing near it.

  “Look out!” Jason flailed his arms as he approached at a run. “I need to get back to the colony!”

  The soldiers grabbed their weapons and took a defensive stance. When they realized it was Jason creating the disturbance, their postures slacked.

  “What are you doing?” one of the guards asked.

  “Move! I need to tell Ms. Armstrong something important!”

  Crossing his arms, the second trooper chimed in, “What’s so important?”

  Jason mounted the skycycle. “No time! Tell you later!”

  The vehicle roared to life, and Jason launched the cycle skyward.

  Minutes later, he set down in the middle of the empty town square. After a moment of confusion, he remembered that those not hunting or foraging were out in the fields planting the first round of crops. He groaned at his poor memory and took off again, circling until he found the area west of town where the other colonists toiled.

  He landed at the edge of the closest field, leaped out of his seat and charged toward the nearest group of women.

  “Where’s Ms. Armstrong?” he inquired as he approached them.

  The ladies stopped their work and turned. One pointed to a group not far off, which was in the direction he had been running. “She’s over there!”

  “Thanks!” He ran off in the indicated direction.

  Several seconds later, Jason drew near the group, some of whom stopped their work to observe his approach. As he came closer, a brunette woman wearing a blue shirt and denim pants broke away from the group toward him.

  “Ms. Armstrong!” he yelled. “Ms. Armstrong!”

  “Yes, Jason. What is it?”

  “Ms. Armstrong,” Jason said after he had come to a halt before her. “We can’t stay here! We have to abandon the colony and leave the moon!”

  A gasp of alarm spread through the women behind the administrator. She, in contrast, crossed her arms and frowned.

  “Jason, this is not the place to say things like that. Take me back to town.

  “Ladies!” she announced, turning back to them before walking away. “Keep working. I’ll be back soon. Don’t say anything about this until you hear more from me.”

  The buzz died down, and a few women acknowledged the instruction as they all returned to their work. Ms. Armstrong turned back to him and waved for him to lead the way.

  Minutes later back at the town hall, Jason found himself in the same room as the previous evening. He fidgeted while he paced around the room, until Ms. Armstrong and McClaskey, the same military man from the previous meeting, entered. She sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the table, while the colonel took up his position behind her.

  Ms. Armstrong sighed. “All right. What’s this about having to abandon the colony?”

  “And,” the colonel interrupted sternly with a faint southern accent. “I notice you’re missing your sidearm and other requisitioned equipment. Care to explain what happened to them?”

  Jason patted his holster in alarm. It was empty. He gulped. “I was out foraging downstream from the pyramid…”

  “After you stopped by there.” The colonel cut him off.

  Ms. Armstrong raised a hand, silencing the veteran soldier. “Continue.”

  “I was foraging, when I found this water wheel by the river, so I…”

  “Excuse me,” she interrupted, leaning forward. “Did you say a water wheel?”

  Jason nodded. “Yeah. Well, it wasn’t really a wheel. It was more of a square frame with a few…”

  She waved the comment away with her hand. “Never mind the details. Go on.”

  “Anyway, I followed the pipe leading from the water wheel to a garden in a clearing in the woods, where I found a lot of food growing. I went to find the owner of this garden, as I figured somebody had to be responsible for the construction. So, I looked around and found this spaceship in the middle of the clearing.”

  Ms. Armstrong glanced at the colonel, who continued to stare at Jason.

  “I got into the ship through the top airlock and went inside, but I didn’t see anyone. After I sat in the pilot’s seat, though, a woman sneaked up behind me and held me at gunpoint. She took my pistol and my backpack, and told me that the colony was in grav
e danger and needed to leave the planet if we wanted to stay alive.”

  The colonel broke the silence that followed Jason’s conclusion. “Let me get this straight. You find this abandoned starship in the middle of nowhere, sneak in, and get your firearm and foraging supplies stolen from you by a woman?”

  Ms. Armstrong turned and narrowed her eyes at the officer as he continued his accusations. “And, you come running back here with your tail between your legs saying that we’re all gonna die if we don’t leave. Am I right?”

  Jason nodded.

  “Sounds to me like a lot of horse shit.” The military man snorted as he stepped closer to the table. “I think you concocted this story to cover up your incompetence in losing your requisitioned equipment.”

  He slammed his hands down on the table next to Jason. “Am I right?”

  “Colonel!” Ms. Armstrong interrupted, her tone stern. “This is not an interrogation! Stand down!”

  The colonel stared at her as he returned to his original spot. Ms. Armstrong took a deep breath to calm down. “I am sorry, Jason.”

  “That…that’s fine.”

  “Did you get a good look at this woman? Did she look familiar to you?”

  Jason shook his head. “Not really. All I saw was that she has long, light blonde hair and tan skin.”

  Ms. Armstrong cocked her head. “Did you catch a glimpse of her face?”

  “No.”

  Ms. Armstrong nodded with a slight frown. “Did this woman say why we’re in danger?”

  Jason shook his head again. “No, she didn’t. All she said was that we’re all going to die if we don’t leave.”

  Ms. Armstrong weaved her fingers together and breathed a long sigh as she stared at the wall behind Jason, looking to him as if she contemplated the situation. “What are the chances that you can invite this woman to the colony to discuss this further?”

  “And get that equipment back?” the colonel added, earning himself another hard stare from Ms. Armstrong.

  “I’m not sure, but I think I can ask her.”