Project Columbus: Omnibus

by J. C. Rainier

  “Good morning, colonists of Michael,” she belted out. Instantly, all conversation within the group died. “I’m Lieutenant Josephson, and I’m here to give you your work assignment.”

  Oh, God. I’m screwed. I should have told Hunter to find me something else.

  Josephson raised an arm and pointed to the hulking monstrosity behind her. “This is a crawler. This is going to be your home for now. Each of you has been selected for the Expeditionary Forces, or EF, as we are going to refer to them going forward. The EF is here to scout the nearby landscape for the purposes of mapping them out and seeking resources in all forms. This includes material, mineral, biological, and even hydrological sources.” She paused and scanned the faces of the crowd. “Some of you don’t know what I’m talking about. You don’t have to. Your tasks are simple: drive the crawler, and keep your scientists safe.”

  “Safe?” blurted Neil, drawing Josephson’s immediate attention. “We’re going to be doing something dangerous?”

  “Welcome to Demeter, Pillsbury. We know nothing about this world outside of a roughly five kilometer radius from the ship. We have no idea if there are aggressive animal species on this planet.” She marched up to him with a swiftness Cal had never seen from her before. Her eyes scrutinized him from top to bottom. “You’re obviously one of the scientists. Remember when you’re out there to keep your eyes open and your friends close.”

  Josephson made a crisp about face and resumed her original position. “For you scientists in the group, we have limited lab equipment for the field. You will have no shortage of sample containers, and when you are here at the base camp, you will have unlimited access to the lab equipment on board Michael. Pack up any personal belongings you wish to take with you and meet back here at thirteen hundred hours for your specific squad assignments and directives. You may or may not have had prior military experience, but let me make this clear; these are orders, and you are expected to carry them out as if you were a member of the crew. Scientists, dismissed!”

  Neil, along with half of the crowd, scurried away immediately after Josephson’s last word. The remaining men and two women looked at each other with some measure of confusion. Josephson climbed onto the running board on the passenger side and retrieved a rifle from the rear passenger seat, as well as a belt with a holstered pistol. She jumped back down and held the sleek, magazine-fed rifle high in the air with a single hand.

  “Can anyone tell me what this is?” she barked.

  Timidly, another tall, skinny teenager raised his hand. “A rifle?”

  “A rifle,” she scoffed. “Jesus, boy. I hope you get eaten before your scientist does.”

  Cal cleared his throat. “Lieutenant Josephson, ma’am. That’s an AR-15 semi automatic rifle. Five point five six millimeter,” he trailed off for a second and squinted at the magazine under the stock. “I believe, thirty round capacity.”

  “And why the five fifty six and not the two twenty three?”

  “Because that’s the same round as your military-issued M4.”

  She nodded and leaned the rifle against the running board. “Good boy. Ever fire one?”

  “Not that model, ma’am. I had an old bolt action Remington back home.”

  “Can you identify this?” she asked, drawing the pistol.

  “Of course. Colonel Dayton gave me one three days ago. Beretta M9 semi auto pistol. Nine millimeter.”

  And Dad had a couple of those too, you crazy bitch.

  “That’s good enough for me. I don’t have time to teach all of you, so you get a pass on the weapons training. Get your gear packed and report back here at twelve hundred hours to get your training on the crawler.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant,” he smiled and saluted, eliciting a sneer from her.

  “The rest of you have one hour to get your bags packed and get back here. Move!”

  Cal walked swiftly as the group broke up. Josephson called out to him as he passed, “Say goodbye to that pretty little girlfriend of yours. I hope it’s not the last time.”

  He paused for a second as his temper flared quickly. He curled his fists into tight balls and for just a second, he considered attacking her. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed her stroking the Beretta like a stray cat, and thought better of it, instead breaking into a run.

  He made it to the camp kitchen in about five minutes, arriving just as they were finishing the dishes and beginning preparation for lunch. Cal huffed his way up to Alexis, threw his arms around her, and then doubled over to catch his breath as soon as he let go.

  “Cal? What’s going on?” she asked.

  He panted hard, unable to respond.

  “Did you find work?” He nodded. “That’s great! What is it?” Cal stood straight again, but still could only gasp for air. She must have read the look on his face, because her smile changed in a heartbeat to a frown. “What’s wrong? Is it something bad?”

  “I have to leave,” he gasped.

  “What?” There was a loud clatter as she dropped a stack of plates that she had just washed. “Why? Where?”

  “Only work I could find…”

  “Take a minute. Please.” She led him to a supply crate and directed him to sit. He did so, and finally caught his breath.

  “The only work Hunter could find me was in the Expeditionary Forces. I should have said no. I should have just had him find me something else tomorrow.”

  “Expeditionary Forces?”

  “I’m going to be part of a group that leaves the camp to go explore the nearby area. Mapping, cataloging, finding resources. I… I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Oh God, Lexi… what have I gotten myself into?”

  “Shh,” she soothed and stroked his hand. “It’s okay. You’ll be back when you’re back.”

  “I don’t know. The way Josephson was talking, it sounds like she doesn’t expect a lot of us to come back.”

  “She’s just trying to scare you. You’ll come back. I know it.”

  He looked up into her emerald green eyes. “How do you know?”

  She smiled and said, “Because I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Darius Owens

  29 March, Year of Landing, 08:44

  Gabriel landing site

  Darius trudged up a short rise to the camp kitchen. The colonial staff was hard at work feeding the last of the stragglers their breakfasts, and starting the task of dishwashing. He placed his dinnerware on one of the piles awaiting a wash, taking an extra moment to tidy and arrange the haphazardly discarded dishes.

  Though they had been specially preserved in near cryogenic conditions, the powdered eggs and pancakes that served as the morning’s meal did not sit well with Darius. Even after using a packet of hot sauce that he had managed to squirrel away the previous day, the eggs still made his stomach churn. He made an exit from the back side of the tent, and slowly wandered down the hill behind the kitchen. He cast his gaze north across the river at the camp that dotted the visible landscape between his position and Michael. Heavy machinery moved along a hillside far away, toward a stand of trees located near Gabriel’s intended landing site.

  Darius sighed and turned away. Watching the progress of the other encampment was a bittersweet daily reminder of both what Eriksen had inflicted on the colony and what both sides were able to accomplish independently. The civilians on the Gabriel side of the river had no idea that the ships were supposed to land side-by-side. He hoped that Michael’s colonists were similarly in the dark.

  He returned to the kitchen. The breakfast lines had all cleared out. Darius picked up a clean cup and went to the first station. Rory Baines, manning the station, did not see Darius approach at first, as his attention was focused on cleaning a coffee pot. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were accentuated by the wrinkles on his forehead and his pursed lips as he scrubbed the inside of the pot.

  “I hope that wasn’t the last of it,” Darius said in a low grumble.

  Rory jerked back as he startled. “Darius. You
scared me.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s alright. I should have known you’d be back for a second cup.” Rory flicked suds from his wrists and wiped his hands off quickly on a dish towel, then reached for another decanter. “I was just about to throw it out.”

  Darius offered the cup, which was promptly filled. He brought it to his lips and took a drink. It was still warm, though nowhere near the piping hot temperature he preferred.

  “Can’t waste a perfectly good cup of joe.”

  “I wouldn’t want to.” Rory’s slight smile disappeared and his lines tightened. “I still don’t know how we’re going to feed everyone all the time with what I’ve seen on board. If we don’t have a good crop and a plan to save most of it, we’re going to blow right through it.”

  “Have faith, my friend,” Darius replied calmly. “Besides, I can’t wait ‘til we start getting actual fresh food. No offense to you, but I think the stuff we’ve been eating is going to give us gut rot sooner than later.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to start cooking something real. Besides, what you fly boys have been bringing us shouldn’t even count as food, if you ask me. I’m almost thinking the MRE’s they had us all eating were better.”

  Darius laughed heartily at the former Army staff sergeant. He had told Rory that he had been in the Air Force, but did not feel it prudent to disclose the nature or date of his discharge. Instead, he let his elder believe that they were simply both former military officers chosen for the same program. From what little time they had been able to converse over the past few days, however, Darius knew him to be very honest, amiable, and even humorous.

  “So do you have a minute, or are you having a flashback to your fine years on KP duty?” Darius asked.

  “Good one,” Rory laughed. “I got time to talk if you’ve got time to help me wash.”

  “It’s a fair trade.” Darius gulped down the last of his coffee and stepped around the station. He rolled up the sleeves of his recently procured denim work shirt and grabbed a sponge. “So, what’s the buzz this morning?”

  “Well, let’s see now. I heard they’ve sent out a few exploration teams to go scout around this area for resources.” Rory slowly scrubbed the inside of a large skillet as he thought. “I heard a couple folks talking about how plots for a few farms have been laid out, and they’re going to see about plowing them, maybe as soon as tomorrow.”

  “Plowing, huh? Shouldn’t they be using the tractors to bring in timbers so we can build houses or something?”

  “Oh, I heard they are. Did you get a chance to see those animals they brought out of the ship a couple days ago?”

  “I did.”

  “Well, someone was smart enough to put a few good old fashioned plow horses in with the mix,” Rory continued. “Damn smart right there. Even if we suck every drop of fuel out of that rust bucket we flew in on, we’ll still have horses around to help out. How ‘bout that, huh?”

  Doctor Kimura would be pleased by that. He and Doctor Fairweather came up with that idea.

  “Sounds like someone was thinking ahead,” Darius replied, downplaying his extensive knowledge of the ship and its cargo.

  “Oh,” Rory exclaimed as he snapped his fingers. “There was something really weird I heard today, too. It was from a couple of the fly boys talking to each other. They said something about a doctor who’s going to be going on trial here real soon.”

  The pot and sponge slipped from Darius’s hands and crashed to the ground. “Wait, what?”

  “Whoa!” Rory jumped back, trying to avoid the stream of water that poured out of the fallen cookware. “You okay there, Darius?”

  He rinsed out the sponge and picked up the pot. “Yeah, sorry. You just caught me off guard there.”

  “I know, it’s pretty crazy. We’ve been here all of what, four or five days? And already they’ve caught someone breaking the law. A doctor, no less. Boy, I don’t know what kind of screening the government did on us before we were accepted if something like that happened.”

  “Do you remember which crewmembers were talking about it?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Call it curiosity. Who was it?”

  “I don’t remember their names. Just their faces. The first guy probably would have come up to your chest. Dark hair, a little older than you. Kinda Latin looking.”

  Garza, maybe?

  “And the other guy?”

  “Big strapping redhead. You couldn’t miss him if he was a mile away.”

  That must be Quinn. Damn it.

  “Did they say why he was going to be tried?”

  “Oh, I asked when I overheard. They just got this real serious look on their faces and told me he stole from the government.” Rory took the pot from Darius’s hands and gave it a quick rinse, then dried it off with a towel. “If he’s been stealing supplies, I can’t blame them for wanting to put an end to it quickly.”

  “Did they say who was going to represent him?”

  “No, man. Why are you so interested in this?”

  Darius put his hands on Rory’s shoulders and squared him off to face Darius eye to eye. “You have to trust me. This man isn’t a thief. He’s a good man, and most of us would be dead if it wasn’t for him. I need to know absolutely everything you know.”

  “How do you know?”

  Darius released his grip and unrolled his sleeves. “You remember how I told you I was Air Force?” Rory nodded. “My date of discharge was the twenty fifth or March, Year of Landing, on the planet Demeter. I was the computer specialist on Gabriel up until then. I can tell you the names of the men you heard that rumor from. Airman Doug Garza, and Captain Tyler Quinn. The accused man is Doctor Tadashi Kimura. And he even admitted himself that he stole government property, but it sure as hell wasn’t supplies.”

  Rory’s eyes narrowed slightly as he brushed off his shoulders. “And just what did he steal?”

  “Those sleeper ships.” He jerked his thumb at Gabriel.

  The veteran opened his mouth to speak, but paused for a second. Darius could see Rory process the information, and then his eyes widened as if a spark went off in his brain. A look of realization rose on his face.

  “Well, I’m not here to judge,” he said. “But I’d say you need to go find a guy by the name of Don Abernathy. That is, if Colonel Eriksen hasn’t already.”

  “Attorney?” Darius asked.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Any idea where I can find him?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s set up on the far side of camp, pretty much in the shadow of the bridge. He’s mentioned that it’s quite a walk up here. He’s about my height, graying hair, has a wife, a rowdy teenage boy, and a little girl who’s as cute as a button.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” Darius smiled. “I owe you one.”

  “Great. Should I start a tab?”

  “If you do, I’ll go broke.”

  Darius turned and hurried down the hill toward the ship.

  I hope this Abernathy knows something about what’s going on.

  Calvin McLaughlin

  1 April, Year of Landing, 16:06

  Approximately 20 miles west of Michael landing site

  Cal popped a handful of trail mix into his mouth. His eyes were cast skyward, watching the soft orange reflection of the campfire’s flames reflect off of the boughs of the towering pine trees. The last remnants of light had died off from the night sky, and Cal eagerly anticipated catching sight of an animal that Neil claimed to have seen the night before.

  It seemed like a silly prospect, the way that the geologist had described it; a small raptor-like bird, that periodically emitted a faint glow from its body. Cal told him that it was probably just a shooting star, but Neil was insistent that it was a creature.

  “Stargazing?” Neil asked.

  “Trying to find this bird you’re talking about.”

  “I don’t think it’s dark enough yet.”

  “That, or you’re ma
king it up,” Cal replied, giving his friend a little ribbing.

  He finished the last of the trail mix before wadding up his ration pack and throwing it onto the fire. Flames licked at the edges of the brown plastic pouch. It began to sag and deform a few seconds before it was engulfed, smoking and melting into a black puddle. The light from the fire danced in Calvin’s eyes, mesmerizing him with its hypnotic dance. The addition of a fresh branch onto the fire added a crackling that was like a thousand tiny firecrackers. The long, blue needles of the pine each curled and then popped in a miniscule final hurrah.

  The fire itself was modest, with a diameter of just over a foot. It cast a gentle warmth that kept the infringing cold of the evening at bay. The sun had set, leaving the higher hills and distant mountains to the west as dark silhouettes in the murky sky. The bright moon, Persephone, bathed them in a pale glow. The darker twin, Arion, was low to the eastern horizon, barely visible without the sun’s direct light.

  A flash of light caught the corner of Cal’s eye and he snapped his head to the right to see. His heart skipped a beat from the surprise, but he quickly felt foolish as he found that it was just the crawler. Lieutenant Josephson had opened the door to retrieve something, and the light had reflected off of the mirror on the door. Cal shook his head and threw the last of the empty ration bags on the fire, where they were consumed in seconds.

  “So why are we doing this again?” asked Neil, sitting on a rock to his left.

  “To make room for more samples, I guess,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s not like we have a garbage dump to take it to when we get home anyway.”

  Elaine wrinkled her nose as she stared at him with coal black eyes. “That can’t be good, melting plastic in a fire like that.”

  Elaine Montoya was the second scientist assigned to the exploration crew. She had been selected for Project Columbus for her skill in agricultural science, though Cal had not pressed her for details. During the days, Elaine was Traci Josephson’s responsibility. Cal was assigned to look after Neil. As such, and with Josephson’s strict adherence to her own militaristic guidelines for the mission, he had not had more than a few minutes to converse with her.