Project Columbus: Omnibus

by J. C. Rainier

  “It’s a court martial,” Kintney snapped.

  Abernathy turned again to face the imposing major and his small entourage. “Then tell me which member of Gabriel’s crew is qualified to present a competent defense in a military court? There are still rules that your commander must follow in order to properly conduct the trial. He hasn’t done so.”

  Grumblings began to rise from the gathered colonists as they began to quietly debate Don’s presentation. Major Kintney’s jaw shifted from side to side, and Darius could swear he heard grinding teeth over the din. The major then looked over his shoulder, and moved to the side of the ramp with his cohorts as Colonel Eriksen appeared from the lower gallery of the ship. He was flanked by Fred Hausner and Captain Quinn, whose heads were lowered and their shoulders stooped. Quinn caught Darius’s gaze, and his lip curled upward, baring his teeth.

  That can’t be good.

  Eriksen stopped at the top of the ramp, allowing the attorney and engineer to pass him as they shuffled their way to the grass below. He scanned the growing crowd with a look of shock.

  “What’s going on here?” he shouted.

  “You tell me,” Darius retorted as he pointed to Roger, who held a rag to his nose to staunch its bleeding. “You need to explain to us all why you sent Major Kintney to beat the tar out of Lieutenant Miller here. Or why you had them do the same to me just after Doctor Kimura’s trial.”

  “Or why you denied Lieutenant Reid proper representation at the court martial you were just conducting inside the walls of Gabriel,” Don added. “Restricted walls within which no civilian may step without your explicit permission.”

  The colonel shot a wilting glare at Kintney, who simply shrugged as he leaned casually against the inner hull. He straightened his flight suit and picked a point in the throng of colonists, avoiding contact with Darius.

  “I’ve tried to keep this silent, for the good of the colony,” boomed Eriksen. “I’ve given my former lieutenant more than enough chances to stop his destructive and subversive behavior. I’ve even allowed him to live and work in the colony, despite his insistence on trying to break it apart from the inside. But I can’t ignore it any more. Not once I found out that he had been using Lieutenant Miller to record and report on confidential military conversations.”

  A few gasps rose from the crowd, and the hum of the rumor mill started to take on a chaotic pitch.

  “I didn’t have him record anything, Colonel,” Darius shouted. “It was your own carelessness that caused that conversation to be recorded. He came to me because he was concerned about what you were doing. But he didn’t want to stand up to you, because he saw what happens to people who do so.”

  Eriksen leveled his cold gaze at Darius. “You seem to be good at sowing dissent, Mr. Owens. I’m regretting not locking you up and putting you on trial as well. Not only did you turn Lieutenant Miller, you also got to Captain Quinn. He had quite the outburst a few minutes ago during the proceedings.”

  “Me? What the hell did I do? I’ve barely said twenty words to him since we landed.”

  “Unlikely. Listening to his insubordinate tirade reminded me of one I heard from you on the way down to the planet, Owens. Tell me again how you had nothing to do with that.” Eriksen cleared his throat and addressed the crowd once more. “I’m trying to be reasonable with Owens and his sympathizers, whose allegiance clearly lies elsewhere. I have no more recourse at this point. For the sake of showing fairness, I’m going to give these men one final decision to make. Lieutenant Roger Miller and Captain Tyler Quinn are hereby stripped of rank, and shall take Darius Owens with them across the river to the other colony by sunset, never to return. If they choose not to take this option, I will have no choice but to have each of them arrested and tried for their crimes.”

  What? he said to himself as he gasped. His stomach knotted in an instant, and his head began to swim. The crowd’s level of agitation grew again, but the tones were muffled by the sounds of his own shallow breaths.

  “As for the matter of Lieutenant Reid,” he continued, addressing Abernathy directly. “He was represented properly, by an officer with legal training.”

  “Who?” the attorney challenged.

  “That information is a confidential military matter.”

  “And I suppose the verdict and his fate are confidential as well?”

  “No. Because his crimes are against our government, all have the right to know. Lieutenant Brandon Reid has been found guilty of treason, and will be sentenced appropriately.”

  “You mean death,” Don shouted, his voice beginning to lose its calm.

  “That is correct,” Eriksen replied coolly.

  The crowd erupted in shouts, but Colonel Eriksen ignored them, as he retreated to the steel confines of Gabriel with Kintney, Garza, and Marks hot on his heels.

  Capt Haruka Kimura

  23 April, Year of Landing, 13:10

  Camp Eight

  So pretense is everything, I guess. A tour of the farmhouse, she thought. Believable. At least as long as we don’t keep using the same excuse.

  Haruka relaxed and leaned her back against the inner wall of the skeletal farmhouse. She stretched her legs in front of her, then rubbed her throbbing calves. The fatigue of the hike began to fade as she waited for James to join their meeting.

  “Maybe he just got hung up,” Troy muttered as he peered through the open door frame. “Should I go find him?”

  “No, we need to wait for him.”

  “What if something happened to him? What if they found out?” Troy’s shoulders tensed up and he started to pace along a very short course on the packed dirt floor.

  “What if?” she replied dismissively. “It’s not like they can do anything to him. Maybe complain or start rumors.”

  “I’d be worried about rumors if I were you. If what I’ve heard is true, the villagers actually fear you.”

  “Fear me? Why?”

  “Because of how you handled Carney,” he replied. “Execution in full sight of everyone. No trial.”

  “Tell me how we would have handled one, and where we would have put him.”

  “I’m not the one you need to convince.”

  A loud crack of a snapping branch pierced the air, and both Haruka and Troy jumped. Her heart pounded in her chest and she scrambled to her feet, but her alarm was quickly relieved as James stepped into the hut from outside.

  “Damn it, James,” Troy berated. “You scared me half to death.”

  James rolled his eyes. “Sorry, next time I’ll knock.”

  “Very funny.”

  Haruka rose and dusted off the legs of her flight suit. “Everything okay, James? You’re late.”

  “Yeah, I was just testing the radio in the pod to see if it would work.”

  “Anything?” she asked. Though everything in the pod seemed to have been permeated by either salt water or condensation, deep within she still held onto a glimmer of hope that she might one day be able to talk to Saika again.

  “No, sorry. I’ll have to do some troubleshooting to find out where the problem is.”

  The glimmer became just a little less bright, now only the barest flickering flame in her mind. She sighed heavily. “Alright, let’s get to this then. Have you guys found out anything about what Gabi said to me? About Maria and Emilia wanting to replace me?”

  “Like I was telling you,” Troy spoke before James had a chance to open his mouth. “There are some people down there that are scared. That whole Carney situation has them shaken up.”

  “I know that wasn’t ideal, but I did what I had to do.”

  “I know that. He was dangerous, desperate, and in the middle of town square. But what happened has really made an impression. I heard a story about a guy who’s worried about what you’d do if he took an extra meal ration.”

  “A story about a guy?” she asked. “You didn’t talk to him yourself?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  “Then it’s just someone’s exag
gerated opinion. The thought of someone having to worry about that scenario is just... I don’t know how to describe it.”

  “I’d be interested to know if someone actually feels that way,” James added. “We’re talking about a group of a half dozen or so people here who want to see someone else in charge of the colony, but are afraid to challenge you directly, question you, or call for elections. Something like that could grow if it’s being ignored, or if someone’s fueling the fire from within.”

  “A half dozen? Do you know who else is with them? I mean, besides Doctor Petrovsky.”

  James nodded. “A couple of them, anyway. George Dormer and Mark Reiber. No surprises there. I’ve been very careful about how I’ve been doing this, to try to keep their suspicions down, so I haven’t heard directly of any outside of that circle. Though I’m a little concerned when it comes to someone close to us.”

  “Close to us?” Haruka frowned. She did not want to consider that one of her trusted colleagues might be in on any plot against her. Yet curiosity spurred her on. “Who?”

  “Seth.”

  She swallowed hard and took a step back to lean against the coarse wall. Sergeant Leight had, despite his early resistance, become trusted to her. He had a knack for pointing out viewpoints counter to her own, and helping her understand them.

  No, not Seth. It can’t be.

  “Are you sure?”

  James shook his head, a signal that gave her both relief and pause at the same time. “It’s really hard to read him right now. He’s keeping his distance pretty well, which makes me think that something’s up. You know he’s not a good liar, so I wouldn’t be surprised if him avoiding us is his way of covering up. Or he could just be so buried in his work that he’s oblivious to the whole thing.”

  “So why don’t you ask him?” Troy asked.

  “Are you kidding? If he’s working with them, we’ll have blown any cover that we have. He’ll tell Maria and Emilia, and then our job of keeping an eye on this will be three times as hard.”

  “Seth’s a really straightforward guy. If he’s not part of it, he’ll come clean. Maybe even help us.”

  “Yeah, that would be a good idea,” James mocked. “I can just see him now standing outside the Palace, polling everyone who walks by as to whether or not they want to overthrow the Evil Queen Haruka. That’ll help.”

  “You got a better idea there, Vandemark?”

  “Yeah, keep doing what we’re doing. Maybe start joining people for lunch and listening to conversations.”

  Troy groaned and folded his thick, tanned arms across his chest. “We really suck at this, don’t we?”

  His companion sighed, and a nervous laugh came out. “Yeah. Sorry, Haruka. You probably want to find guys better suited to the task.”

  “You’re fine for the job,” she shrugged.

  And I can’t trust anyone else, so you’re stuck with it.

  “Any ideas?” Troy asked.

  “Maybe. Two parts. Don’t talk to any of the kids about it. Gabi was the one who clued me in to begin with, so any of the others would probably gab about it if you two started poking around there. The other is Jenkins.”

  Troy and James exchanged glances. “What about him?” James asked.

  “I know that Will has worked a lot with him during scouting. Can you see if Will can get a read on Jenkins? Don’t tell him to do anything else yet, but if we know what side he’s on, we might have a way to get a clear picture of what Seth’s thinking without tipping our hand.”

  “I haven’t told Will about what’s going on yet. Are you sure you want me to do so?”

  A little gamble, but I need as many leads as I can right now.

  “Yeah. Just make sure he doesn’t talk to anyone else about it, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. Now on to the life and death stuff. Have we found a survivor who knows anything about agriculture?”

  Troy’s stubbled cheeks stretched wide open as he smiled. “A whole family, if you’d believe the luck. Wheat farmers from Kansas. Good folk, too. I’d love to introduce you to them when we get back to town.”

  “No. I’m not going to meet them there.”

  His smile faded and his eyes widened. “Captain?”

  “I’m going to meet them here, in their new home. Bring them here to take a look around.”

  Troy stood still for a moment, then exhaled loudly, shook his head, and laughed. “You had me going there for a minute. I can be back with them in an hour.”

  “Take James with you.”

  They nodded and turned to go.

  “And bring some seeds with you, too.”

  Darius Owens

  23 April, Year of Landing, 18:16

  Gabriel Landing Site

  Darius hunched low as he scurried from one row of tents to the next one closer to the river, careful to make sure his head did not rise above the peaks of the shelters. He held up for a moment and waited for Miguel Barajas to scan left and right down the next row of tents. Barajas then glanced back and signaled for Darius to advance again. He did so, nearly tripping over a rock jutting out of the ground. The dark of night shrouded the entire encampment. Few lights remained lit over the entire span of the temporary colony; most had gone to bed over an hour earlier.

  “We’re almost there,” Barajas whispered. “Then we get you and Quinn to your hiding spots.”

  “We’ve got to stop this, Owens,” Quinn complained as he caught up to Darius. The former captain was slowed by the laborious task of helping Roger Miller, who could not walk on his own.

  Darius’s eyes fell to the dirty white cast that immobilized the broken bones of his friend’s leg. He imagined for a moment the satisfaction he might feel from returning the favor to Major Kintney. The injuries that he and his subordinates had inflicted on Miller made safe crossing of the river impossible.

  “You got a better idea, Captain?” he replied, only remembering after he spoke that Quinn no longer bore the rank.

  “Yeah, getting the hell out of here like we were supposed to. Not sneaking around the camp trying to hide from Eriksen and his cronies.”

  “Roger can’t swim, and we can’t just leave him here.”

  “That’s your mess, not mine,” Quinn shot back. “And you still managed to drag me into it. Why couldn’t you have just listened? Everything would have worked out.”

  Darius turned to face his former superior. “Not for Doctor Kimura it wouldn’t have. Now I don’t know what kind of man you think I am, to expect that I wouldn’t at least try to save a friend. Not to mention a man whose life’s work allowed us to even be here. Alive. Far from the War.”

  “And so you had to make Brandon pay for it instead. But you screwed that up and now they’re both fucked. We are, too, if any of the crew finds out we’re still here.”

  “So leave, then,” Darius snarled. “Go across the river. They’ll take you in over there and you’ll be free to live the rest of your life knowing that you left us to the wolves.”

  “I could care less about you at this point, Owens. You’re poison.”

  “Fine. I can’t argue with that. But you’re still leaving Roger out to hang, and he’s done nothing but try to help both Doctor Kimura and Lieutenant Reid. I hope the coffee over there is strong enough to wash that down every single morning.”

  “Stop arguing,” Barajas hissed. “Do you want to wake up the whole damn camp?”

  “Maybe that would be better,” Quinn replied nonchalantly. “At least it would be over with.”

  “You’re a selfish prick, dude,” Barajas grumbled. “I’m out here risking my ass trying to save yours. Now shut up and move. We’re almost to Clara’s tent.”

  Clara, Darius thought. Just an ordinary colonist, with nothing to do with me or Eriksen. Her husband is out with an exploration party, and she’s willing to risk taking Roger in so he’s safe for the night. Risking whatever wrath the colonel might bring down on her.

  Quinn opened his mouth to protest
but Darius and Barajas moved down two rows without a glance back, forcing the disgraced officer to hurry along with them. They then turned to the right as a group, and moved to a cluster of tents about a hundred feet away. One tent glowed softly like a beacon in the cool night; the light of a single lantern within cast a diffuse glow through the fabric. Arion was slowly traversing its arc overhead, yet the full, dark moon did little more to illuminate the landscape than the beckoning lantern, and it would still be hours before Persephone was expected to rise.

  Barajas led the group to the tent and pulled the flap aside. Inside the modest canvas abode, a small child rested in a sleeping bag, sound asleep. Her mother lay at her side, stroking her hair. She greeted the men as they arrived. Barajas motioned to an empty sleeping bag on the floor. It was square and pristine, as if its owner took the time to lay it out anew every day. Darius grabbed Miller’s arm, and with Quinn’s help, settled the injured man into the bed.

  “Thank you, Clara,” Barajas grinned. “We’ll have him out of your hair before you know it.”

  The woman smiled back, and as Darius’s companion closed the flap to the tent, she extinguished the lantern. Once more the men were enveloped in the mantle of the night. Far in the distance an eerie howl rose as a pack of native night predators heralded the start of their hunt. Darius had heard of the species, but not encountered it. From the description, he was thankful for that; they were essentially giant weasels that could glide between trees and swoop from above to attack.

  Darius shook off the image of an aerial surprise and followed Barajas deeper into the camp. They twisted their way back toward the ship, and then again astern. This time the shelter that awaited them was not lit. Barajas opened the tent, and Darius and Quinn crawled inside, groping in the dark to find their respective bedding.

  “Stay low, okay guys?” said Barajas. “Novak will try to wake you guys before dawn so you can get out. If you can’t, keep a low profile and make sure no one is around.”