“Do you know when they’re going to be back?”
Gabi shook her head again.
“Have they been gone long?”
The corner of Gabi’s mouth twisted upward, and her eyes darted upward as she thought. “Yeah. Mama told me to stay here and that she’d be back in a few minutes, but I really don’t know when she’s going to be back. Do you?”
“No, sweetie, sorry. I haven’t seen her. Is it okay if I wait here with you until she gets back?”
Gabi smiled and nodded. Haruka took a seat on one of the beds, and the young girl bounced down next to her on the mattress. She rolled over and pretended to fly her cat through the air. Gabi paused for a moment, flat on her back with her arms sticking straight up in the air holding the animal, and gazed quizzically at Haruka.
“Why do Mama and Emilia want to get rid of you?” she asked.
Haruka’s jaw dropped, and she stopped to run the question through her head again, unsure that she had heard it correctly.
“What do you mean?”
Gabi rolled her shoulders in a shrug and sat up. “I keep hearing Mama and Emilia talk about how they want to get rid of you. I don’t know why they want that, but they won’t tell me when I ask. Mama just gets really angry and yells at me to go away.”
Haruka grabbed Gabi around her midsection and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry, honey.” She paused for a moment and asked, “Do they talk about this around you?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes they talk about other stuff.”
“What do they say when they talk about it?” she pried.
“I don’t know. Mama doesn’t like you anymore, I guess. Emilia says you need to stop bossing people around.”
So this is about me pressing Maria into the workforce, then.
“Does this mean Emilia doesn’t like you either?”
“No, sweetie. I think she just doesn’t like some of the things I say. It’s normal for adults to disagree,” Haruka smiled weakly.
And stab each other in the back, apparently.
“I guess Doctor Petrovsky doesn’t like what you say either,” Gabi added.
Haruka blinked twice and her smile began to crack. The doctor too, huh? Well, that’s an easy way to get rid of me, isn’t it?
“I guess. I need to go talk to James, but I don’t want you to stay here alone, okay?”
“Can I come with you?” the girl’s brown eyes widened and lit up.
“Sorry, sweetie. He’s working on the pod, and it’s too dangerous for you to go there. I’ll find someone who can play with you, alright?”
Gabi’s shoulders slumped and she let out a loud, dramatic sigh. “Okay.”
Haruka took Gabi by the hand and led her down the path to the beach. Gabi filled the time by singing several of her favorite nursery rhymes and skipping down the path, then running back to Haruka when she got too far ahead. When they reached the shore, Haruka found Gina Bryant watching over a small herd of children, and left Gabi in her care. She then quickly made her way to the cockpit of the sleeper pod, where James was making adjustments to his palm frond water barrier, where the broken canopy window once was.
“Look, Captain,” he began when he saw her, but she cut him off.
“We need to talk. And we need Troy, too.”
Darius Owens
23 April, Year of Landing, 11:07
Gabriel landing site
Darius dipped his arm low to the side and whipped it forward. The smooth stone shot from his hand, arcing slightly upward before it slammed into the surface of the river with a loud slap. It bounced upward and began to tumble end over end, and when it landed on the water again ten feet away, it broke through the surface and sank at once. He muttered under his breath about angles, and then stooped down to pick up another rock. Darius winged it over the river, and was rewarded by four skips before it plunged beneath the river.
Much better.
He brushed the dirt from his hands onto the leg of his jeans and began to walk slowly along the river’s edge. A movement on the opposite bank caught his eye, and he looked up to watch. Over the course of the previous month, a five-hundred foot section of the bank had been cleared of trees. Darius could see two large stacks of rough-hewn timbers, likely harvested from elsewhere as the native trees that lined the river were far too short and thin to have produced such stout logs. One of Michael’s bucket lifts hefted a timber into the air and drove to the end of a line of support poles. Three men followed the machine on foot and guided the pole into the ground, where they then buried the base. He scanned the tops of the poles and found where the power wiring ended near the construction site, but none of the supports appeared to be at the right height or position to extend the line.
I wonder what they’re building.
As Darius continued along the river’s edge he glanced up the steep bank beside him at a matching clear patch of ground created by the colonists of Gabriel. While Darius was part of the team that brought power to the river’s edge, the other work crews had stopped almost a week earlier, and the plans for industrial buildings along the river’s edge had stalled.
Another casualty of Eriksen’s crusade.
He tried to push aside the lingering animosity he felt toward his former commander. Darius focused again on the far side of the river. This time, he picked out a short hill beyond the sleeper ship. Its round top was barely visible over the bank from where he stood, but he could clearly make out a building taking shape near the top. The hill was the deep-brown color of plowed earth, and tiny specks moving about on its face told Darius that the fledgling farm was active. He paused to think of what crops the colonists had planted, and if other fields had been tilled in the gently rolling hills beyond.
Yet every thought Darius had of the other colony led him back to Gabriel. The other colony was building along the river, but Gabriel’s leadership had stalled development of the equivalent structures in the planning phase. While both sides of the river had fields tilled and planted, it concerned Darius that there were only three distinct crops that had been planted: corn, wheat, and onions. He wasn’t about to question this decision, however, as Colonel Eriksen had appointed two of Gabriel’s crewmembers to oversee farm operations. His last run-in with Eriksen’s subordinates had not gone well for Darius; though difficult to distinguish from the surrounding flesh, he could see the outline of his black eye when he examined his reflection in the river.
I doubt that Colonel Dayton has ordered his men to beat the shit out of someone for disagreeing with him. Darius shook his head and flung another stone into the river. It sank without skipping, but he barely took note. I also doubt that he’s devoting so much time to crucifying the conspirators. That McLaughlin kid is proof enough of that.
Darius had played Major Kintney’s words over and over. They haunted him in his sleep, and lingered through the day like a whisper deep within his ears. Even as he scaled the bank and made for the camp at a brisk pace they came back to him. It didn’t take Darius more than a couple hours to figure out why he had been labeled as a “sympathizer,” or what that meant. Calvin McLaughlin seemed to be the key to that.
He thinks that Colonel Dayton is part of the Project Columbus conspiracy. He believes that Calvin McLaughlin serving on his crew before the landing instead of being in custody is proof of that, as Doctor Kimura said that the boy’s father was a key figure in covering up their tracks. He sighed heavily. And now I’m lumped in with them because I voiced my opinion that we should band together with them. Not because I’m in league with them, but because I thought we should follow the mission guidelines.
From what he knew of the crew of Michael, Darius did not believe that they were part of the conspiracy. Major Forrest had been placed under arrest as ordered. Doctor Fairweather died in transit to the planet, a victim of the assassin’s stasis disruption algorithm. The idea that, assuming he was part of the conspiracy, Dayton would kill one of his own was ridiculous as it was, but Darius knew that the assassin had been on board Raphae
l.
But the dead can’t talk, and the secrets of the killer burned up with the ship.
“Darius!” he heard a shout from his left as he neared the camp. He looked up the hill toward the kitchen tents, where he spotted Rory Baines. He was in a near sprint coming down the hill. Rory’s apron flapped loosely at his side as he ran forth waving his arms in the air and calling out to Darius repeatedly.
Darius paused and waited for the old cook to catch up. Rory doubled over and wheezed for a moment. “Rory? What’s going on?” Darius asked.
“Where… where the hell have you been?” he gasped.
“By the river. Why?”
“Eriksen… Miller said…” Rory had to stop as he panted.
“Miller said what?” Darius began to feel his stomach knot.
If Roger talked directly to Rory… in broad daylight…
“Court martial. Eriksen is holding Reid’s court martial today.”
Darius muttered a curse under his breath. “Did he say where?”
“On the ship. Forward part of the lower deck.”
“Damn it. Why didn’t Don tell me about it?”
“He probably doesn’t know,” Rory replied. “Hell, I just found out from Miller. He only figured it out because Fred Hausner passed him a note as he boarded Gabriel.”
Darius arched his brows. A note was a bold, desperate move on the part of the attorney. “A note? What did it say?”
Rory outstretched his hand with a folded scrap of paper tucked neatly between his middle and index fingers. Darius took it as he watched the expression of his companion. Rory normally had a cheerful demeanor, but the only hint of emotion was a twitch at the corner of his mouth. This reaction made his blood run cold. Darius could not shake the feeling that Rory was close to doing something extreme. He cringed as he imagined how that might manifest. Darius pushed aside the thought and unfolded the rough edged scrap, torn from the pages of a sketchbook.
HAVE BEEN ORDERED TO DEFEND LIEUTENANT REID TODAY. WASN’T GIVEN TIME TO PREPARE OR REVIEW CASE. HELP. UNDER DURESS.
Duress. No preparation. He couldn’t win a fair trial, so he’s rigging the court martial.
Darius crumpled the paper into a tight ball. His fist squeezed so hard that the tiny mass pressed into his skin, leaving marks after he shoved the paper into his pocket. For a minute he stood frozen with his eyes locked onto the hull of the ship, as if he could tear a hole in it with his gaze and expose the fraud within. Then he began to run.
“Wait, Darius! Where are you going?” Rory called after him.
“Keeping a promise,” he shouted back as he picked up speed.
“To who?”
My mother, he answered in his mind.
His long strides took him around the outskirts of the sprawling tent city. His first stop was well known, and he picked through the last row of tents to the canvas abode of the Abernathy family. The back side of the tent, which normally was flanked by a field of grass and short shrubs, was instead surrounded by dozens of young children, sitting in the field and hanging on every word that Don Abernathy spoke as he read from a book. Darius slowed only enough to keep from tripping over a young boy as he approached the attorney.
Don removed his glasses and looked directly into Darius’s eyes. “Can I help you, Mr. Owens?”
“You need to come with me, please.”
“I’m in the middle of a class here,” he said as he swept his glasses in the direction of the children.
“Sorry,” he said, pushing through his short breath. “It’s an emergency.”
Don paused for a second, nodded, and closed the book. He turned to the class and spoke. “One moment, children. I need to go, but your story will be read to you in a few minutes. Just wait here.”
He walked with Darius to the front side of the tent. “What’s this about?” he whispered abruptly.
“Eriksen is court martialing Reid today. No warning. Fred Hausner might be in danger, too.”
“Damn it. Where?”
“On the ship. Let’s go.”
Don’s arm shot out and caught Darius’s elbow as he turned toward the rear of the ship. “Wait, how do you expect to get on the ship? Surely Eriksen will have guards ready to arrest you if you show up.”
Darius nodded. “He will. That’s how we get in.” Don gave him a puzzled look. “C’mon, one more quick stop to make.”
Darius did not let the attorney deliberate on the matter. He jogged along the side of the hull toward the rear of the ship. Just behind the rearmost cargo pod he found his entry plan, right where he expected to find them. Novak and Barajas were at work assembling the reactor-grid interface module that would serve to transfer power from Gabriel’s reactor to the colony. Barajas leaned over the edge of the lift bucket, high above the ground, as he adjusted a line connection on the transfer port. Novak sat in the cab of the lift with his hands on the controls, ready to move his partner at a moment’s notice.
Darius came to a stop at the cab’s door and gently rapped on it. Novak startled, and his hand hit the controls, which dropped Barajas about three feet. Barajas let out a high pitch scream and ducked into the bucket.
“Bloody hell, Owens,” Novak grumbled. “I should knock you upside the head. Though hearing Barajas scream like a girl was almost worth…”
“Shut up and come with me, both of you,” he interrupted.
“This is getting out of hand, Mr. Owens,” Don said, his voice raised slightly. “Leave them out of this.”
“Out of what?” Barajas asked as his hard hat and eyes became visible over the edge of the lift.
“Reid’s in trouble. Eriksen’s rigged the court martial so he doesn’t stand a fair chance,” Darius replied.
“Your friend? The kid with the pregnant wife?” Novak asked as he lowered the boom lift and jumped down from the cab.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“That’s some real shit that the colonel’s pulling,” Barajas barked. “What do you want us to do?”
“Now, guys,” Don tried to stop the infuriated construction workers by stepping in front of them. “I don’t want to see you get involved in anything…”
“No offense, Mr. Abernathy,” Novak cut him off. “Hats off to you for what you did for that doctor during his trial, but this Eriksen guy is really pissing me off. I’m with Barajas. What can we do for you, Owens?”
Darius patted Don on the back and nodded, and the attorney stepped aside. “They’re expecting me to show up. You guys hide at the side of the ramp and rush them when they come to take me.”
“You got it, boss,” Barajas grinned.
“Let’s do this,” echoed Novak as he jogged ahead of Darius. Barajas joined right on his heels, and Don hurried behind, uttering a protest that did not slow the strides of the group.
When they approached the rear of the ship, Darius pulled up and let his two muscled cohorts slip under the massive bells of the main plasma drive. Don stopped next to him and opened his mouth to speak, but Darius silenced him. They waited for a few minutes, with Darius reminding the attorney every thirty seconds or so to be quiet, as the man protested several times.
“Now!” Darius whispered hoarsely and stepped from his obscured position at the side of the ship. He moved at a casual pace to the end of the ramp, where he glanced up to confirm the presence of guards. His skin began to crawl and his lip curled when he caught sight of Major Kintney at the top of the ramp, crossing his arms across his broad chest, a wicked smiling snarl contorting his lips. He was flanked on either side by the cronies that helped deliver his recent beating, Marks and Garza.
“Owens!” Kintney bellowed as he started to walk down the steel incline. “We knew you’d try something. Just didn’t think you’d be so stupid as to stroll right up here like this.”
Darius squared himself toward the major as Don bowed his head slightly and shuffled three steps back.
“If you knew I was coming, why’d you wait for me?” Darius replied, forcing his voice to carry
the distance. “Why not just come and beat me again when no one’s looking, like last time?”
Kintney raised one arm in the air and motioned forward with his fingers. His companions took a few steps into the hold of Gabriel and knelt down to lift something.
“Sending a stronger message this time. Couldn’t do that with what I had in mind.”
Sergeant Marks marched forward in lock step with Garza, dragging a bloodied and nearly limp body dressed in a stained flight suit. The victim raised his head slightly as he was being dragged down the ramp, regarding Darius with the one eye that was not swollen shut. Darius clenched his fists as fury ripped from deep inside.
Roger! Damn them…
They threw him at Darius’s feet. Marks delivered one last kick to the ribs of the defenseless Lieutenant Miller, then the pair calmly walked back to the ship. As they did so, Barajas and Novak came charging out from the side of the ramp. Darius quickly shook his head and motioned to his former partner. The construction workers slowed, then changed their course to tend to their beaten fellow, as Darius knelt in the grass to do the same.
“You just don’t know when you’re beaten, do you, Owens?” Kintney said with a mocking laugh.
“It’s about doing what’s right, Major.”
“I expected as much from a sympathizer. You’re a nuisance. You have no idea what kind of damage you’re doing to the mission.”
Darius glanced to either side and noticed a small crowd start to form near the flank of the ship. Colonists of all walks timidly shuffled into a circle, watching the spectacle with eyes wide and mouths agape.
“Damage?” Darius scoffed. “Don’t talk to me about damage. Colonel Eriksen has done way more than I ever could. This insane crusade of his…”
Kintney cut him off with a snarl. “There’s nothing insane about upholding the law.”
“Not true,” Don Abernathy belted out as he stepped in front of Darius. His voice, though well projected, was calm and smooth. “There is no justice done when the law is upheld through illegal means.” He turned and addressed the gathered crowd. “Inside that ship, a man is fighting for his life in a trial without proper representation. He was denied that by Colonel Eriksen. Can any of you out there tell me that’s just?”
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 76