Project Columbus: Omnibus

by J. C. Rainier

  “And he said that his family, as well as others involved with the modification and cover up, received spots on the sleeper ships?”

  “He did, sir.”

  That’s going to look bad, Doc.

  “Did he mention any accomplices?”

  “Yes, sir. Doctors Fairweather and Benedict worked together to modify the program, and they had sympathizers in the Air Force that helped them move the replacement passengers to the PCRL compound in Wyoming.”

  Fred cocked his head and arched his eyebrows skyward. “When did you first meet Doctor Kimura?”

  “May 2011, sir.”

  And no, I didn’t have anything to do with this, if that’s what you’re thinking.

  “Did any of the research staff approach you about alteration of the algorithm?”

  “No sir.”

  “Did any of the research staff or any other Air Force personnel approach you about moving passengers into or out of the compound?”

  “No sir.”

  Fred scribbled furiously on the paper for a minute, and then looked up. “He’s all yours, counselor.”

  “Thank you.” Don rose from the tree trunk and stretched, then scratched at his chin. “You say you met Doctor Kimura in May of 2011. Did you have any contact whatsoever with him or any of the other Project Columbus research team prior to your assignment in April of that year?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did Doctor Kimura explain to you why he altered the selection algorithm?”

  “Yes, sir,” Darius replied. “He made it pretty clear that if the version that Congress approved was used, the chances of a colony surviving were much lower.”

  Darius caught a movement below on the hill out of the corner of his eye. He glanced down and saw someone moving up the hill quickly toward them.

  “Did Doctor Kimura give you any indication that he intended to steal the sleeper ships?” Don asked.

  “No, sir. As far as I knew, our mission was going along according to the Project Columbus mission procedure. It wasn’t until we had left orbit and Doctor Kimura admitted to his part in the incident that I knew anything was out of the ordinary.”

  Darius checked the hill again and saw Colonel Eriksen nearing the crest. His face was as red as his beard, and his teeth showed through his snarl. Darius could feel the pit of his stomach rise as Eriksen stormed directly toward him.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he bellowed.

  Fred Hausner shot up from his seat and moved between Darius and the colonel. With a voice as calm as a summer’s night, he said, “Sir, you can’t be here right now.”

  “The hell I can’t. He’s not supposed to be here,” he yelled, pointing a thick finger directly at Darius.

  “This is a legal proceeding. You can’t be here,” Fred repeated.

  “Lieutenant Owens is not allowed to be involved in any colonial affairs,” Eriksen screamed. Veins throbbed in his neck, threatening to burst at any second.

  Darius’s fingers scraped along the bark and his teeth grated at hearing his former title.

  I’m not in the service any more, Colonel.

  Don moved next to his colleague, forming a blockade through which Darius could no longer see his former commanding officer. “You need to leave now, sir. This legal matter supersedes any standing orders you may have given this man. To say otherwise would be countermanding your own order, and would mean that Doctor Kimura’s charges would be nullified.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s true, Colonel,” replied Fred, unshaken by the hulking square of a man that faced him. “Now please leave and let us work on the task that you gave us.”

  A moment of silence fell, then Darius heard the footsteps of Eriksen moving off.

  “I’m warning you, Owens, stay out of it,” he shouted as he moved down the hill.

  The attorneys shook their heads and turned to face Darius. Fred rolled his eyes, but both then walked to Darius.

  “My apologies, Mr. Owens,” Fred said.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “We can continue this at another time if you wish.”

  Darius shook his head. “It’s alright, we can continue.”

  Don chimed in. “We’re just about done anyway. I only had one more question left for you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go right ahead.”

  “Did Doctor Kimura admit his role freely, or was he caught in some action that aroused your suspicion?”

  “He just hit me out of the blue with it. He seemed a little off when I was talking to him, but I had no idea what I was in for when he started explaining things.”

  Don nodded. “Anything else, counselor?”

  “I have one more question,” Fred replied. “Did you develop a personal relationship with Doctor Kimura or any of the other researchers after your assignment to the Project?”

  “Of course, sir. All of them.” Darius sighed. “The Kimuras were like a second family to me. Lieutenant Kimura was busy with her training so I didn’t get too much time with her. But Doctor K, his wife, and his other daughter…” He trailed off as he took a moment to reflect on the times they had spent together at PCRL Laramie. “We were close.”

  “And he didn’t tell you anything about what he planned?” The question was instantaneous and blunt.

  “No sir.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I would have turned him in,” he admitted with a heavy heart. “Just like I did on the ship. I would have betrayed his confidence to execute my duty.”

  Fred finished his notes and flipped the tablet of paper closed. “I think that wraps it up. Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Owens. We’ll let you know if we need you again, or if we set a date for the trial to start.”

  The two lawyers shook his hand again, and he left from their impromptu meeting place, opting to go down the hill on the river side, opposite of where Colonel Eriksen came from. On his way down, he looked to a distant hill on the Michael side of the river where the green hillside slowly changed from lush green to broken stripes of brown over the course of a couple days.

  Farming.

  For a moment, Darius wished he was with the other crew, far from the troubles of Gabriel.

  Capt Haruka Kimura

  11 April, Year of Landing, mid morning

  Camp Eight

  “Good morning, Captain,” Troy said cheerfully.

  Her head throbbed and a deep shiver wracked her body. She could feel the sweat on her brow even without drawing her hand across it. The smile disappeared from Troy’s face and he instead cocked his head and gave her a sympathetic look.

  “Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

  Haruka waved her hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Your report, please?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m fine, I swear.”

  Troy peered at her for a second, and then shrugged. “Alright. We completed another hut yesterday. We can have another two done within the next two weeks, but we have a new problem.”

  “Alright, give it to me.”

  “We can’t cut down trees and drag them up here fast enough. We can’t even start another building until we get more.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” she replied. “It looks like a big problem, since we don’t have any trucks to move them around. Do we have anything else we can build with? Mud maybe?”

  Troy scratched at the fresh stubble on his face. “Nothing that I’ve seen so far. The silt in the river here is more sand than clay, so it’s not so hot for building with. Maybe we can come up with something, but it’s going to take a bit. I’m running out of options in the meantime.”

  “It’s not the only thing that’s making me nervous. But I have an idea. See that low rise over there to the south of us?”

  Troy squinted and scanned the horizon where Haruka pointed. “Yeah.”

  “Think we can clear it and set up a farm?”

  “Clearing it’s not a problem,” he sighed. “We could use the timber over the
re to build a house or two on the hill. But once we tear it all up, how are we going to irrigate it? Or keep the damn rats from chewing everything up?”

  Her head began to spin and she leaned against a tree for support. Troy took a step toward her, but she put up her hand. “We can’t solve a problem that we don’t even have yet. Let’s get it built and then worry about it.”

  Haruka barely got the words out before a stabbing pain shot through her left side. She twisted and grimaced, and then doubled over. No sooner than she had done so, her stomach revolted, and what little she had eaten came up in two loud, violent retches.

  She felt Troy’s hand on her back. “Jeez, are you okay?”

  She nodded and straightened her back. She spit out an errant chunk from the back of her throat. “I’ll be fine. Get to work.”

  “Are you sure? I can take you to see Doctor Petrovsky.”

  “Will you stop it already?” she growled. “I know how to get there myself. Just get back to work, please.”

  “Alright, jeez.” She could hear the defeat in his voice, and she glanced over her shoulder and watched him walk away, taking a look over his shoulder every few steps.

  Once he was out of sight, she doubled over in pain again, leaving one hand on the bark of the palm. Her mouth burned, and the acrid taste of vomit lingered. Her breakfast lay at her feet, and had landed in a pepperine shrub. Haruka coughed and spat, trying to avoid breathing in the foul stench of bile and acid that made her gag. Another violent shiver washed over her, and her fingers and toes felt like ice.

  She trudged her way up the path to the village, clutching her stomach the whole way. She walked between the new huts that Troy’s teams were constructing; one was a mere skeleton, the other had four walls and the beginnings of a roof structure. She emerged from between them and made her way past the Palm Palace to Dr. Petrovsky’s clinic.

  Inside, the doctor was nowhere to be found. Haruka’s former Chief of Medicine, Emilia Reiber, walked around the short partition wall at the back and greeted Haruka with a smile, which waned quickly when she sized up Haruka’s condition.

  “Please, come lie down,” she said, grabbing Haruka’s arm gently and guiding her to one of the woven palm beds along the wall. Emilia placed a nearly frozen hand to Haruka’s forehead. “You’re burning up. Lie down; I’m going to get you some water.”

  Haruka complied. The scratchy leaves of the bed were cold against her skin, and she could feel the chill through her clothes as well. A sharp twinge of pain stabbed at her, and she curled up on her side and closed her eyes.

  “Is Doctor Petrovsky in?” she croaked.

  “No, he was called away. One of the fishermen cut his foot, so he went to help out. He should be back in a while.” Emilia’s whispered voice suddenly became very close, and Haruka could feel something hard pressed to her lips. “Here, drink this.”

  Cool water trickled into Haruka’s mouth and down her lips. She swallowed, almost gagging on the first rush. The second swig went down smoothly, and she took a deep breath.

  “How long has this been going on?” Emilia asked, doing her best to mimic Dr. Petrovsky’s mannerisms of medical inquisition.

  “I woke up this morning and couldn’t get warm. I threw up a few minutes ago. That’s when the pain started.”

  “Did you eat anything this morning?”

  “Ration pouch.”

  “And last night?”

  Haruka paused to recall what she had for dinner the previous evening. “Fried shark, baked bank root, and pepperines.”

  “Any nausea last night?”

  Haruka shook her head.

  “Any fatigue?”

  “Yeah. Last night was the same as most days. A little worse today.”

  “Alright. I’m going to keep my eye on you. No running off without me or Ken saying it’s okay, got it?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Haruka tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure if she was able to manage anything more than a twitch of her lips. Her head swam and her body shivered all the way to her toes. She felt Emilia place something on top of her. It was cold for a moment, but quickly began to retain her body heat, giving her the first sensation of warmth all day. Haruka opened her eyes for a second to confirm that Emilia had covered her with an unzipped sleeping bag.

  Her energy had been sapped by her body attacking whatever affliction with which she was dealing. Sleep soon came to her, though it was fitful. Babbling voices held meaningless conversations while she strained to listen. She would be too warm one moment and then freezing cold the next. The bedding beneath her scratched at her bare skin and caught her hair as she tossed and turned. Still, she forced herself to rest until she could not stand it any longer.

  Haruka opened her eyes and sat up. Daylight filtered through the partially open storm curtain. Maria Serrano sat upright on a bed along the far wall. Gabi sat at her feet, playing some sort of game with her stuffed cat. Dr. Petrovsky knelt at Maria’s side, speaking with her. Every few seconds, Maria would nod an acknowledgement at the doctor. They finished, and both stood up. As Maria reached her hand for Gabi, her eyes caught Haruka’s. Without a word, Maria snatched up her rather surprised daughter, and quickly left the clinic.

  Dr. Petrovsky noticed Haruka was up, and walked over to her. He smiled, and spoke in his usual cheerful bedside tone, even as he prodded and examined her.

  “Good afternoon, Captain. I hope you’re feeling better.”

  “A little. What was that about?”

  “Hmm?” he asked as his eyebrows arched.

  “Maria. Is something wrong with her?”

  “Oh, she was just checking in.”

  Bull. Maria would rather be alone than talk to anyone. And she hasn’t lived here since the first hut was built and the colonists gave it to her.

  “How is she?” Haruka asked.

  “She’s doing fine, all things considered.”

  All things considered. Her husband was murdered. She was raped. And I was a terrible friend. All things indeed.

  “That’s good. How have you been? I hear there was some excitement down on the beach today.”

  Dr. Petrovsky laughed under his breath. “You could say that. Nick misjudged a roller and got rolled over in the surf a couple times. He got spun around, didn’t know where he was, and sliced his foot open on some coral.”

  Haruka placed her hand on the doctor’s. “Nick as in your son, Nick? Oh, I’m sorry, Doctor. Is he okay?”

  “Thank you, Captain,” he smiled. There was a hint of pain behind it, and sadness in his eyes. “He’ll be fine, but he’s going to be off his feet for a couple days. I know that’s what’s going to upset him the most about this.”

  “Well, I know he’ll heal up in no time and be back out there wrangling sharks.”

  “That’s true.” He squeezed Haruka’s hand slightly. “And you’ll be back out there wrangling colonists.”

  “Ah, haven’t you heard? I’ve found my new calling. Making curtains and roof panels,” she said with an impish grin.

  “So I’ve got Troy to thank for you not taking it easy, then?” he jabbed.

  “You can thank Troy that I’m only weaving and not trying to lift trees or anything like that. He wouldn’t let me work on anything more strenuous.”

  “Well, if you’re not going to run the colony, then it’s probably one of the best jobs for you to do.”

  Haruka nodded. “I was thinking about getting Maria to try it.”

  The smile vanished from Petrovsky’s face and he pursed his lips.

  “What?” Haruka asked.

  “I know it’s hard, and you need every able body to be at work, but she can’t be pushed. She needs time to heal.”

  Haruka could feel her impatience begin to rise. “She’s had a couple months to grieve, but she’s not getting any better. Not even after she and Gabi watched Carney die.”

  The color drained from Petrovsky’s ruddy cheeks, and he swallowed hard. “That would explain Gabi’s behavior, then. I’m sorry, I h
ad no idea she saw that.”

  “Yeah, well, you can imagine how I’m not exactly thrilled with the so-called ‘progress’ that is being made with her, Doctor. I’ve given her space and let you do what you felt is right to let her heal, but if she doesn’t do at least something to contribute to the colony soon, we’re going to stop doing things your way.”

  “You know, you’ve had a hard day. Maybe you should just rest a little bit more and we’ll start over tomorrow.” He placed his hand on Haruka’s shoulder and gently pressed, trying to get her to lie down, but she shrugged off his hand.

  “I’ll rest because I know I need it, but I’m not changing my mind. Three more days, Doctor. She rejoins the work force, ready or not. Your way or my way.”

  She settled back into the bed and curled up, facing away from Dr. Petrovsky.

  Calvin McLaughlin

  12 April, Year of Landing, 05:55

  Approximately 42 miles northwest of Michael landing site

  Calvin startled awake as a loud snort filled the cab of the crawler. He flipped around quickly inside his bag and searched for the source of the noise. Stretched across the floor of the rear seat was Neil, snoring erratically. An empty sleeping bag hung part way off the edge of the bench seat, threatening to tickle his nose and set him off again. Cal yawned and then shifted onto his side. Another empty bag sat in the front passenger seat.

  The girls are up early this morning.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, but the dull throbbing in his head told him that going back to sleep, even for just a minute, was not about to happen. Instead he opened his eyes and stared blankly at the fine white fog that coated the inside of the windshield. His breath reached out in ghostly trails, billowing into a roiling cloud as it touched the glass. A childish whim ran through Cal’s mind, and he grinned. He sat up, extended a finger, and began to draw in the condensation.