Project Columbus: Omnibus

by J. C. Rainier

“So has everything that Doctor Kimura has done,” Cal retorted. “Look where it got him.”

  “I know, Mr. McLaughlin. I know.”

  Silence blanketed the bridge as Colonel Dayton walked slowly back to the command chair and sunk into it. His stare seemed a thousand miles off, somewhere in the distance beyond the ships.

  “Is there anything else, sir?” Cameron’s voice shattered the tension.

  Dayton chewed on his thumbnail for a second before responding. “Did you ever find our contact?”

  “Actually, he found us, sir. Sent us packing after the verdict.”

  “Did he have any insight as to what’s going on over there?”

  “Not much. Just that his contact hasn’t been able to get to the computer to get any of the messages we sent, or send any of his own. He’s being watched.”

  “By that damned clown Eriksen, I bet,” Dayton growled.

  “Yes sir.”

  “So other than knowing Kimura’s fate, we’re still in the dark. Just like before.”

  “Maybe not,” Cal interjected. “I heard people talking as the sentence was being given, as well as on our way out through the crowd. I don’t think a lot of people were thrilled with Eriksen’s handling of the whole thing.”

  The creak of the command chair swinging around could barely be heard over Dayton’s feet shuffling on the deck. “How many people did you overhear, Mr. McLaughlin?”

  “I don’t know, maybe thirty or forty.”

  “Out of almost two thousand, that’s not a whole lot,” Dayton sighed.

  “Maybe not, but I didn’t hear a single one of them agree with Eriksen. And if I could hear that many upset with the decision, there’s got to be more, right?”

  “Hmm. You’ve got a point. It certainly complicates things, however.”

  “How?”

  Dayton waved his hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Thank you for what you have done today. Dismissed.”

  Cameron turned and marched down the stairs. Cal followed closely behind, casting one last glance back at the troubled commander as he took his leave from the bridge.

  “I don’t like it,” Cameron remarked as they passed through the airlock into the upper gallery. “This makes me nervous. We should just leave them alone to do whatever they’re going to do. It was a mistake for us to go over there.”

  “Calm down, Cam. It’s over now. We’re home,” Cal soothed.

  “Yeah, home,” he replied tersely.

  Cal put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder. They stopped, and Cameron turned around. Cal smiled. “Hey, don’t live in the past when there’s so much future for us to build. We’re home. We have nothing left to do today because we weren’t assigned anything else. Go take a walk, skip some rocks across the river or something. Clear your head of what happened this morning.”

  “I don’t know, Cal.”

  “I do. There’s one thing I know for sure tonight, too.”

  “Huh? What’s that?”

  “You better bring your guitar with you, or Lexi and Doc are going to be disappointed. Did you forget that it’s bonfire night?”

  “Ah crap,” Cameron cursed. “I forgot. I’ve been looking forward to it for a week.”

  “Well then, it’s a good thing I reminded you,” Cal said as he slapped his friend on the back. “Lexi can be pretty vicious when she doesn’t get what she wants. I’ve probably just saved your hide. Literally.”

  “No joke.” Cameron managed a wry grin.

  As they climbed down the ladder to the lower gallery and made their way down the length of the ship, they exchanged memories of the first few days and nights on Demeter. They got onto the topic of Hunter and his management of the colonists, recalling a story about a particularly difficult architect who refused to get his hands dirty around camp, and how Hunter tricked the man into setting up tents by giving him a band of clueless teenagers to oversee in the task. Cameron burst out laughing as he recalled the shade of red that the architect had turned as he futilely showed the youths how to erect the tents, then gave up and set them all up himself.

  Cal squinted for a brief second as he emerged from the dark belly of the ship with his friend at his side. The midday sun burned overhead, wrapping his bare arms in its warmth. The slightest breeze blew from the river, bringing with it the smell of the cramped camp mixed with coffee and fish from the kitchen. He took a deep breath and drew in the scent, exhaling from his mouth.

  Cameron walked a few steps and then stopped. He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and turned to Cal.

  “I’m going to go up to the farm and do a little pest control. Maybe come up with something else special for tonight. You coming, man?” he asked.

  “No, I’m going to grab something to eat and say hi to Lexi.”

  “Alright. See you later then.”

  They exchanged a quick fist bump before departing ways. Cameron headed away from the river toward the skeleton of a building on top of a low rise, about a kilometer from the aft loading ramp of the ship. Cal trod the familiar path up to the three tall canopies that marked the kitchen. The grass along the shoulder of the hill had been trampled by countless feet grinding into the dirt. A narrow path of bare, packed dirt now marked the way he followed.

  Cal formed up at the rear of a modest line of pioneers seeking their lunch, and in moments others joined in behind him. He slowly shuffled his feet as the line inched forward, and was rewarded a few minutes later as he reached the first tent. Cal picked up an enameled metal plate and a fork as he stepped inside.

  Gail, the cheerful middle-aged woman charged with running the entire kitchen, threw a raw fillet of river trout onto the grill in front of her. It hissed and sizzled as the heat began to sear its thick skin. Gail carefully laid a few sprigs of a native plant across the top of the fish, then looked up and smiled at Cal. With a nod, she used a long metal spatula to cut a portion from a cooked fillet resting on the other side of the grill, and slid it onto Cal’s plate. As he passed through the second station, a similar flourish of culinary skill was displayed by Roy as he worked on a hash of native potatoes and spices. Cal collected his portion and carefully hoisted and settled an enameled cup full of steaming coffee onto his unsteady plate, then walked around to the back side of the kitchen.

  Alexis sat at a folding camp table in a matching folding chair. Her eyes were firmly fixed on her work scaling and filleting a pile of trout that the camp’s fishermen had provided. She did not notice Cal approach, nor did she notice when he pulled up another chair and sat down, careful not to drop the scalding drink into his lap. He took a bite of fish from his plate; the flaky white flesh melted in his mouth, and the native herb used in its cooking gave it the slightest hint of mint.

  “You can tell by the quality of the fish, and the simplicity of its preparation, that this restaurant is so…” he paused and twirled his fork in the air grandly. “Unique.”

  She startled for a moment and looked over her shoulder at him. A grin spread across her face before she turned back to her work. “You’re such a nerd.”

  Cal chortled under his breath as he began to work on his meal. Alexis beheaded, de-boned, and filleted three fish as he took several bites and downed most of his coffee.

  “So I didn’t see you this morning,” she said, slicing into another trout.

  “Yeah, sorry. I had a job to do this morning that took me out of camp.”

  “Well, at least it didn’t take you far. Did Hunter find you something good to do today?”

  “Not Hunter. Colonel Dayton.”

  Alexis set her knife down and quickly wiped her hands on a dingy towel. She cast her legs to the side of the seat and her green eyes fixated on him. “Dayton? Why would he be giving you work?”

  “It’s a long story,” he replied as he shoveled a forkful of potatoes in his mouth.

  “Well, I want to know,” she insisted.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s over with.”

  Ale
xis stood up and swung the chair in front of Cal and sat down to face him. The smile had disappeared from her face, and her eyebrows arched slightly. “I’m not going to stop worrying until you tell me what it was.”

  Cal paused and set his fork on the plate. He realized that telling her as much about the job as he had already let on was a mistake, but he had already broached the subject. Alexis was privy to much of the gossip of the settlement, and she was not clueless about its operations, either; she knew that Colonel Dayton only gave tasks either to his crew or to colonial department heads. Cal was neither, and to deceive her would be futile.

  “Fine. The guy we fished out of the river the other day was supposed to exchange contact with us through a coded method. We hadn’t heard from him, so Colonel Dayton sent Cam and me across the river to find out what was going on. We found him, but we also found out all kinds of messed up stuff that’s been happening over there, too. We just finished briefing Dayton on it.”

  “My God, Cal,” she gasped. “Are you nuts? Everyone on both sides of the river is paranoid. Do you know what they’d do to you if they caught you?”

  “But they didn’t,” he cut her off. “And it’s over. I did what he wanted, and now I’m done.”

  Alexis rose to her feet slowly. “You’re not done, are you?” she asked, just barely audible over the rustle of the canvas canopy.

  “I did what he wanted. I’m done.”

  “And if he asks you to go back?”

  “I don’t need to. Darius should be able to communicate with us again soon.”

  “And if he can’t?” she shot back.

  Cal chewed the last bite of fish pensively and washed it down with the last of his coffee. “I’ve come face to face with all kinds of nasty shit on this planet, from reaper bears to some old dude in the other camp that wanted to break my neck. I’m done with that. Colonel Dayton’s just going to have to send Cam alone if he needs someone to go back.”

  “Promise me you’ll stick to that.”

  He gained his feet quickly and took her fishy, greasy hands and looked into her eyes. “I promise. I’ll go on pest patrol at the farm if that’s what I need to do, but I stay here with you.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a slight grin. She leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  “I’m going to take a nap and then come back to help you in a bit, okay?”

  “Help?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

  “Yep. We’ve got to get you out of here early tonight so we can go to the bonfire. I figure I can scrub dishes to help.”

  “That would help a ton.” They kissed before she returned her seat to its position and resumed her duties. “Remember, dishes on this side of the river, mister!”

  “Damn,” he chuckled. “I guess I won’t be seeing my other girlfriend tonight then.”

  Capt Haruka Kimura

  22 April, Year of Landing, morning

  Camp Eight

  Haruka sipped on the spicy tea steeped from pepperine leaves as she rubbed her throbbing, fatigued right leg. Her back ached from a restless night sleeping under a thin, gnarled, spider-like tree near the empty husk of the sleeper pod. The particular species of tree had earned the name “vinewood” because of the way its trunk resembled a woven tangle of pepperine plants. Unlike the towering palm trees, they provided good shade without the threat of seed pod bombardment from high above.

  Troy stood aside her on the glittering white sand of the beach, just outside of the long shadow cast by the palms as the sun crept over the eastern horizon. With one hand shielding his eyes from the glare, he surveyed the activity of three new wooden fishing canoes on the water. A gull with a full beak cackled and swooped low, gliding onto the top of the sleeper pod and landing with a clatter. Two more joined in short order, and an argument of squawks ensued over the first gull’s meal.

  “Looks like those canoes are paying off,” Troy remarked. “They can go farther out. They look stable, too; not going to roll over in the surf.”

  “One problem down, a thousand more to go,” Haruka muttered into her tea as she took another sip, then emptied the enameled steel cup onto the sand with a flick of her wrist.

  She raised her head as she heard the clank of footsteps on the deck plating within the pod. James emerged from the dark maw, wringing a tattered blue rag with his dirt-caked hands. He took long strides as he walked down the sand covered ramp, and he bore a wide, toothy grin.

  “If I you could lend me a hand, Troy, I think I’ve got it worked out.”

  Troy grunted and shook his head, but walked to the rear of the pod and followed James. Haruka kept her distance a few feet behind. She sidestepped a long, rough wooden pole about four inches in diameter, and leaned against the bulkhead just outside of the cockpit as the two men entered.

  “So I knocked out the top glass on the far side here so we can tilt it up and out,” she heard James say from the other side of the wall. “Then we should be able to seat it, and I can get up top and rig some sort of sail. It should turn the generator and slowly charge the batteries I wired up in the upper hallway.”

  “What about keeping the water out?” Troy asked.

  “Already ahead of you. I’ve got a couple leftover roof panels from the village to cut down on that. It won’t be perfect, but we should be able to keep the electronics dry. The batteries are upstairs, the roof is still sealed, and even those damned mega tides can’t get up that high.”

  “Alright.”

  Troy emerged from the cockpit and stopped at the end of the pole. He gripped the end and lifted it slightly off the floor. The pole lifted high on the front side as James lifted and guided it from inside the cockpit. After a moment, Troy walked back into the cockpit with the bottom portion, and Haruka peeked around the corner to watch them affix it to the generator with salvaged cargo straps. Another two sets of crisscrossing straps were run just under the roof of the cockpit to stabilize the pole and limit horizontal movement to either side. Haruka stepped into the doorway and admired the work.

  “So this will really generate the power we need to run the radio?” she asked.

  “Not directly, no,” James replied as he checked the fit of the pole’s base. “It doesn’t make enough to run it real time. The radio will still run on batteries. This just charges the batteries.”

  “How long will it take to charge?”

  “I think about three days for every hour you want to run the radio.”

  “If it even works,” Troy interjected dourly.

  James looked up through the missing glass and tapped the pole with his hand. “It’ll work. We’ll be able to talk to the other camp again. Maybe, if I can boost the signal a bit, we’ll catch a break and get one of the other ships on the line.”

  The other ships, Haruka thought. Dad. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath to check the excitement that was building within her. It had been too long since she had spoken with her father, and the idea that in a few days’ time she might be able to hear his voice again did more to lift her spirits than anything else since the refugees crashed on Demeter.

  “Well, I’ve done my bit to help with this nonsense,” said Troy. “Back to work on something that’s actually useful.”

  Haruka’s brief moment of elation came crashing to the ground with these words. Troy brushed past Haruka as he marched purposefully down the pod’s main hallway. He disappeared down the ramp into the bright blur of the beach sands. James took a few short steps into the hallway and shook his head as Troy left.

  “Ignore him,” he said. “This will be worth it in the end.”

  “I hope so. I hope this hasn’t been for nothing.”

  “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t believe that we could get the radio back. I know how much time I’ve invested in this, and how much that has taken away from my duties in the village. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For letting me see it through. And for picking up the slack in my absence.”

>   Haruka paused for a moment to collect her response. “I didn’t really pick up any slack. There wasn’t any to pick up. You’ve done such a good job making everyone understand exactly what they’re supposed to do that they just do it. All that’s been left is to collect reports.”

  “You don’t have to butter me up, Captain.”

  She sighed and began to walk toward the rear of the craft. “I don’t pander. It wouldn’t do either of us any good. Not out here.”

  Haruka squinted as she emerged from the hulk into the bright morning air. She glanced over her shoulder briefly to make sure that James did not follow, and then made her way to the village. Other colonists, old and young alike, greeted her as she ascended the hill. She returned smiles, but was lost in thought.

  Letting James work on the radio was a huge gamble. Troy still disagrees with my decision. I’m starting to think he’s right. Troy’s disagreed with me before, but never like this. Not to the point of getting snarky about it. Now I have to just hope that I was right.

  She reached the curtain that sealed the entry of the clinic and reached for it. She paused for a moment with one lingering thought.

  Or find a way to make a huge improvement in the village.

  She swept aside the curtain and stepped inside. The familiar straw beds along each wall greeted her, along with Dr. Petrovsky’s makeshift table at the rear of the room. The front of the clinic was quiet. Haruka had to strain to hear any sign of habitation over the rustle of the curtain.

  “Hello?” she asked softly. “Doctor Petrovsky?”

  Gabi walked around the partition wall in the rear. She rubbed her eyes and clutched her worn stuffed cat to her chest. Gabi blinked as she regarded Haruka, and then smiled and skipped up to her, throwing her arms around Haruka’s legs and hugging her.

  “Good morning, Gabi.”

  “Good morning!”

  “Is the doctor around?”

  Gabi shook her head.

  “What about Emilia?”

  “No, she’s with Mama.”

  Checking on her, no doubt. It would be nice if she took Gabi with her instead of just leaving her alone.