Inexcusable. They should be doing something. She curled her lip into a sneer as she caught the eye of one, a seventeen year old blonde girl who appeared to be working on her tan. Haruka received an eye roll in return, and the girl flipped over onto her stomach. I can’t stand this. If I have to be off my feet, the least that Leight can do is keep me away from these leeches.
She was not the least bit happy when Dr. Petrovsky had ordered her to rest for the day. He had strictly forbidden her from doing anything pertaining to the colony, including oversight of personnel. She would be allowed only to take short walks, and then only to stretch her legs or to take her meals.
Haruka decided that it would be best for her mental state if she didn’t spend her time with the particular company that had gathered near her. She slowly stood up and steadied herself against the trunk of a tree, swiping the sweat from her brow. Her head spun for a moment, so she waited until the sensation had passed before making her way along the tree line toward the river.
As she wandered, Haruka could hear the sounds of progress from the hill above her. Troy and James had assembled every able bodied person from pods eight and ten and put them to work. Some fished, while others were set to the task of foraging for edible plants or tough palm fronds. The bulk of the workforce was on top of the hill, however, clearing selected trees and stumps, and building the beginnings of shelters. Haruka didn’t think it looked like much the last time she had seen it, but Troy assured her that given a little time, there would be houses. She had a difficult time picturing them, as her concept of a house had been drawn up long ago by her experiences on a heavily populated Earth. Possibilities of what Troy had in store filled her imagination.
Haruka came to the estuary where beach, river, and trees met. This was one of her favorite places to come and think. Wild birds skimmed the beach in search of food, and the river flowed past with a soothing babble. Yet unlike the beach near the pod, it had far less traffic; only once had she visited when there were others around. More often, she was greeted by various small creatures that lived in the jungle, such as a small herbivore species with protective bony knobs on its neck, or a variety of hairless rodent that moved with incredible speed.
The walk did little to quell the swimming feeling in her head, so she went down to the sand and dipped her feet in the river. The water rushed over her feet, melting away the sand from the soles of her feet in a tiny white-and-brown cloud. The contrast in temperature felt good against her skin, but the spinning sensation would not go away, so she lay down in the sand to rest. As she rested her arm over her eyes, her body felt as if she was floating and twisting in the air, without the ability to control herself. Haruka concentrated on the sounds of the river and her breathing. Seconds passed into minutes, and she was vaguely aware as the rolling passed that she was drifting off to sleep.
Her rest was fitful, dancing between images of home, family, and the sleeper ship disaster. Her father’s wrinkled face smiled back at her over a meal out at a restaurant, and they walked under starry skies to the first home she remembered – in Laramie, but not on the compound grounds – where they watched the skies for shooting stars. Yet when she stood up, she was on the bridge of Raphael, being stared down by a snarling Colonel Fox. She shook off the image and brought back a memory of trying on a dress her mother had sewn for her. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she remembered the occasion: Saika’s wedding. Yet moments later she relived the last seconds of flight before the engineering skiff crashed in the jungle. She escaped the horror and the sensation of drowning, and found herself in a room with Saika, talking about life. When she was comfortable again, they got up and walked through a door, and Haruka found herself in the propulsion control room of Raphael, with the stare of Captain Maynard’s bloodied corpse boring into her.
Haruka felt as if her chest was being squeezed and she gasped for air. She turned for the escape hatch, but it was closed. Her fingers clawed in futility at the latch, but it would not budge. She turned about and hunched in the corner, drawing her knees to her shoulder. Maynard’s stare was fixed firmly on her, and even in death seemed to judge her. She closed her eyes, brought her hands to her ears, and screamed.
She felt hands clamp down on her shoulders and pin her to the hard metal. She kicked her legs, but more hands fell upon her ankles and immobilized them. She could hear shouts from around her as a dark feeling of dread blanketed her, threatening to smother her all over again.
“Captain Kimura, stop kicking!”
The voice was familiar, but it was not Maynard’s. She forced her panic aside and waited for the voice, though her muscles tensed against the hands that restrained her.
“Relax, Captain. Everything is going to be alright,” the man’s voice soothed.
Her eyes shot open and she sucked in a big gulp of air. The round face of Dr. Petrovsky looked down on her, framed by the plated metal ceiling of the sleeper pod. She glanced down, where Luis held her ankles fast, and then up into the worried face of James, who had a firm grasp on her shoulders. Realizing she was awake and indoors, she relaxed, letting her fingers brush against the metal floor. She was soaked in sweat, and a terrible thirst lingered in her mouth. She did not rest quite flush against the surface; something was wadded up underneath her back.
“What the hell happened?” she asked.
“Gave us all a scare, that’s what,” James replied.
Dr. Petrovsky placed his hand on Haruka’s propped-up shoulder, and his expression became grimmer. “James brought you back to us, burning up and barely breathing.”
“What?” she shot up to a sitting position. “But I was just asleep.”
Her three companions exchanged looks of concern.
“You got this wound in the jungle, correct?”
Haruka looked at the doctor, then placed her hand on the shoulder that had been slashed by the jaguar weeks ago. She winced as pain shot through it, and her temperature rose. “Yeah. I was attacked by one of the local jaguars.”
“Well, it looks like it’s become infected,” Petrovsky continued.
“What? How? It’s been two weeks!”
He leaned in to her ear and whispered, “I could tell you in private if you wish, or we can do this in front of your men. Sooner or later you need to tell them.”
That means the radiation has something to do with this. She cast her gaze down and, biting her lip, nodded in solemn approval.
Dr. Petrovsky straightened up and cleared his throat. “Somewhere, at some point, your wound came in contact with infected material. Could have been something as simple as a scratch, or maybe there’s a local bacteria that we haven’t encountered yet. In any case, your condition exacerbated it, and it’s run rampant.”
“Her condition?” asked James. His dark brown eyebrows arched high toward the roof.
“Gentlemen, the captain has allowed me to discuss her condition with you. I urge you not to repeat it without her permission, as it is still a sensitive matter.” Petrovsky paused for a few seconds, glancing up as if to make sure his audience was captivated. “Captain Kimura was exposed to significant radiation during the disaster on the sleeper ship. She is suffering from what a layman would call radiation sickness. Her immune system is compromised, and at the very least, she is very prone to the various cancers.”
Haruka examined her Operations and Security chiefs carefully as the news sank in. Both were shocked, their mouths agape, unable to respond. Luis was barely able to make eye contact, shying away when she caught his gaze.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve known for a little bit now. Dr. Petrovsky knows and can take care of me. Right, Doc?”
The doctor pursed his lips and paused uncomfortably.
“Doc? Everything’s fine, right?”
“I’ve done a little digging,” he finally added. “The alarms on Raphael were set to go off when potentially dangerous doses of radiation were detected. Sergeant Leight allowed me access to the radio to have a conversation with Lieutenant M
arsolek, who knows much more about the ship’s reactor than anyone else that we’re aware of. It’s his opinion…” his voice trailed off.
A veil of silence fell in the hallway. Haruka’s nerves were on edge and her hands shook, waiting for the doctor to finish his sentence. The deliberate way he avoided an answer made her suspect the worst.
“She’s dying, isn’t she?” asked Luis, almost under his breath.
“It’s a distinct possibility.”
Haruka closed her eyes and gulped. “How distinct?”
Dr. Petrovsky released a deep sigh. “It’s hard to tell. Given the medical equipment I have access to…”
“How distinct?”
“Fifty-fifty, give or take.”
Haruka laid back down slowly. Her hands tingled, and her core grew numb. Fifty percent chance of dying. Fuck. After surviving the crash and the trip out here, the God damned ship will end up killing me after all.
Luis and James both rested their hands on her. “Is there anything we can do to help, Doctor?” queried James.
“Not unless you can find me better medical supplies. Leight tells me there were a couple cargo pods full of supplies onboard the ship. Maybe one of them crashed near here.”
“No,” Haruka blurted. She could feel the weight of their stares fall upon her, but she fixed her gaze at the ceiling. “No, those pods were both in the front of the ship. We only ran across one pod, which was probably number fourteen. Medical supplies were in pods three and four. If they’re out there, they’re hundreds of miles away, lost in the jungle.”
“We can find them,” Luis replied hastily.
“No. Marsolek has a better chance of finding them.”
James hesitated for a moment as he formed his question. “So what are you saying, Captain?’
Haruka bit her lip and forced back a lump from her throat. A single tear streamed down her cheek.
“All three of you are witness to this, so listen carefully. Military command structure dies with me.”
“You’re not dying,” James insisted.
“Please, just listen to me, just in case. There aren’t enough crew members left to justify rank; make sure that Sergeant Leight understands that. We’re a colony now, and he doesn’t take command just based on his uniform. James Vandemark will take over my responsibilities at Camp Eight. Continue to build and secure the population through any means available. Form a government. Make sure that laws and expectations are clear, do you understand me? Make sure the people live.”
Her eyes opened, and she received the response she had anticipated: the nods of all three men.
“One more thing, just for James.”
“Anything, Captain.”
A second tear rolled down her face, but she held her voice steady. “If we ever manage to make radio contact with the other ships, tell them… tell Saika that her sister sends her deepest love. Tell Sarah Kimura that I don’t believe a word of what they say about Dad.”
Tell them that I will see him in Heaven, she thought as James clasped her hand and nodded, swallowing hard and doing his best to hide his emotions.
2nd Lt Darren Cormack
Planetfall +16 days, midday
Twenty miles east-northeast of sleeper pod seven site
Darren rubbed at his throbbing lower back with one hand as the other shaded his eyes from the high noon sun. He licked his parched lips and took a moment to catch his breath. The rows of crates he had pulled from the cargo pod wreckage lay canted between two fallen palm trees jutting out from under the pod. His work of pulling the crates from the pod was nearly complete, and he would be able to move on to the task of distributing the food to the survivors. The plan was to mark the pod for later supply retrieval, while replenishing from its stores before marching out at first light the next morning.
He stepped just inside the door of the pod and hoisted one of the three last crates that he had staged for removal. His fatigued muscled strained against the weight, and he grunted with every step he took. He walked to the end of the row and dropped the crate in place. As he again waited for his breath to calm, Darren caught a foot resting on the tree out of the corner of his eye. He looked up and found Brett Wu standing with his arms crossed and a grim look on his face.
“Something tells me this isn’t a social visit.”
Brett shook his head. “It’s not over. There are five new cases today.”
“Five? But I thought you said that there weren’t any new cases since we left the last camp!”
“There weren’t until today.” Brett took a seat on the log and ran his hand over the back of his head. “None of the previous patients should have been contagious. It’s got to be something in the environment.”
Darren nodded. “Any idea what? I mean, that’s kind of vague.”
“I’m not even completely sure what kind of illness we’re dealing with here. It doesn’t look like the insects spread it, as not everyone who has fallen ill has had bites. I don’t think it’s fungal, and it runs its course too quickly to be parasitic.”
“So what does that leave?”
“Viral or bacterial,” Brett replied. “I’m leaning more towards bacterial, though.”
“Alright. Why?”
“Well, we’re in a jungle here. This place is probably the perfect breeding ground for bacteria. And since we have almost no antibiotics, we’re at the mercy of our immune systems to cope with a completely alien bug.”
Darren took a seat on the log next to Brett as he absorbed the information that the nurse had laid out.
If he’s right, we’re defenseless unless we can find the medical cargo pods.
“But you can’t tell me what’s causing it, right?”
“For sure? No.”
“Any ideas on what to do?”
“Keep moving,” Brett responded with a heavy sigh. “I hate to admit it, but Hank and Lorenzo were right to move on. While we’re on the move, we seem to be a step ahead of this. As soon as we stop to rest and regroup, it catches up.”
Darren furrowed his brow. “That’s insane. I’m still not sure that leaving was the right decision, and now you’re telling me this? I mean, I’ve never heard of a sickness that gets better when you keep moving. All I’ve ever heard from doctors whenever I’m sick is to rest and drink fluids.”
“I’ve heard of a disease that acted this way in groups of people,” Brett retorted. “And like what we’re experiencing now, it had a high mortality rate and kept people on the move. Although that was more from fear than any scientific or medical need.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m about to get a history lesson?”
“I’ll keep it short, Lieutenant. Back during the days of westward expansion in the United States, one of the diseases that emigrants feared the most was cholera. Many of them moved on when party members were stricken, fearing that if they stayed they would also contract the disease. At the time it seemed to work, although we now know that cholera is a bacterial infection, most commonly contracted through contaminated food or water.”
“Water,” Darren repeated as he leaned his back against the top edge of a rations crate. “Could it be in the water here? Could it have survived purification?”
“It’s possible. For instance, those iodine tablets you distributed won’t kill cryptosporidium”
“I know that. Those are for an emergency in case the filters don’t work or aren’t available.”
Brett shrugged. “Those pump style filters were designed for waterborne threats on Earth. It’s possible that something here can slip past them. The disease slowed down, but didn’t stop, when we started boiling the water.”
“So it’s probably water borne then.”
“Could be food borne too. There are scavengers and vermin all over this planet, just like Earth.”
“But the rats didn’t show up until we had been at the camp for several days,” Darren pointed out.
“All it would have taken is one back at the pod to infect our food supplies a
nd get the ball rolling. I can’t rule it out. All I know is that we can’t stay here, or more people will die.”
“Two days ago you were spitting venom at me for leaving the sick behind, and now you want me to do it?”
Brett nodded solemnly. “As much as I hate to say it, we have to. We can’t afford to wait for them to get better.”
Darren could barely believe that Brett was advocating for abandonment, but this disease had ravaged the survivors, leaving twenty one dead and the group divided. Brett had a wild, almost fearful look on his face as he waited for Darren to deliberate.
“Alright. I’ll move all the healthy survivors out again. Do you need anything else to care for the ill?”
“I’m coming with you,” Brett replied without hesitation.
“What?”
“I’m not staying behind to get sick. Not this time.”
“You’re abandoning them too? But they need your help.”
“I don’t want to die,” the nurse blurted.
He really is scared. I can’t blame him.
“I’m not taking you with us.”
“Then I’ll go on my own.”
“Brett, please…”
“No. I’m not staying.”
Darren gave an aggravated growl. “Fine. I can see I’m not going to convince you otherwise. Help me get everyone together. We meet here in fifteen minutes.”
He strode off into the thick of the group, spreading the word of the meeting to all he encountered. After informing a few groups of survivors, he found Hank and enlisted the scout’s help. The work of notification went much faster with the help, and after only ten minutes, Darren was back in front of the pod, looking at the faces of every single person in camp as they waited eagerly for him to begin.
“I’m not going to mince words,” he said. “If you’re not already aware, the disease has struck camp again. On advice from our medical staff, we are leaving as soon as we can pack up our supplies. We’ll put as many miles as we can from this place tonight, and continue on to our destination.”
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 49