As he approached, Darius could hear Andrea wailing from the second story of the small shop. She was clearly in distress, her piercing cry laden with an urgency that even a childless man such as Darius could interpret. Faint light flickered from the lower level, though the apartment above was dark.
Preparing a bottle? Darius wondered.
He knocked on the door, then cast his eyes at the night sky. The first pinpricks of light were beginning to emerge from the murky darkness. No constellations were yet visible. Even if they were, Darius couldn’t yet identify more than a couple of the newly defined clusters. Most familiar constellations as viewed from Earth were grotesquely skewed by their position on Demeter. Others no longer could be defined cohesively. If he could find the same constellation two nights in a row, he considered it a personal victory.
After knocking once more and waiting a couple minutes, Darius noticed something peculiar. Andrea was still screeching upstairs, but the light hadn’t flickered, nor had Cal come to greet him. Darius had a moment of second-guessing as to whether or not his knock was heard over the baby. Something was definitely amiss, so he tried the door knob. It turned easily, and the door swung slowly open with a labored groan.
The shop floor was dimly lit. The display cases on either wall were upright, though sparsely stocked. Cal was leaned back in a chair behind the sales counter, with his feet kicked up on the counter itself. A green bottle sat within his reach, its swing top wide open. Cal glanced at Darius, his hair wild and unkempt, his hand swirling an enameled cup.
“I was hoping you’d go away,” he muttered as he downed the contents of the cup. One eye closed in a pained wince, and he wheezed loudly as he exhaled the first time.
God damn it.
Darius slowly walked up to the counter and leaned sideways against it. He took the open bottle in his hand and took a deep whiff.
Whiskey.
Cal grinned. “Been dying to try out my new product. It’s been sitting in the ship for so long. Now it’s finally ready for sale.” His speech was slow, and he stumbled over the words. “Pretty good if I do say so myself. Want some?”
Darius smiled as he flipped the top closed and sealed the bottle. “Another time, perhaps.”
Cal heaved his long body upright. His feet fell to the floor with an unnerving slap, but he didn’t seem to mind. Nor did he pay any heed to the escalating screams from his baby daughter. He set the cup down and reached for the bottle, which Darius quickly pulled from his reach. Cal looked up at him with a scornful glare. His breath reeked of alcohol and decay. It took a great deal of willpower on Darius’s part to suppress the instinct to cover his own mouth and nose in the face of such stench.
“I think you’ve put in enough work for one day, Cal,” he soothed. “Let’s go see what Andrea wants, alright?”
“Give it back,” Cal growled. “I wasn’t done.”
“You are. It’s time to tend to your family now.”
Cal laughed and shook his head. “That’s rich. You’re going to tell me how to run my family. You. Who hasn’t had a date since he was on Earth.”
The accusation, though true, stung Darius a little bit. But he shrugged it off. “I don’t need to tell you what to do. You know what to do; you know what’s right for your family. This just isn’t you,” he said, dangling the bottle of whiskey just outside of Cal’s reach.
“What’s right is letting me get a little sanity around here.” Cal lunged for the bottle, but misjudged the width of the counter and ended up tumbling over the other side and onto the floor. He let out a loud expletive. Andrea seemed to sense her father’s anger, and her crying intensified once more.
Darius took on a firmer tone this time. “You think this is sane? Ignoring the cries of your daughter while you try to find yourself at the bottom of a bottle? When’s the last time you’ve ever heard of that particular plan ending well?”
“Screw you,” Cal shouted, his voice cracking as he fought back his emotions. His sky blue eyes glistened with tears, and the pain that raged within him was written in every twitch of his mouth, heard in every stifled sob and stuttered breath. He scrambled to his feet, swaying for a moment before he gained his legs back. “You don’t know what it’s like. You didn’t have anyone left to lose. You just locked yourself in that ship away from all the problems. Away from us. From the starvation, the sickness, the death. You don’t know half the shit that I’ve been through since we’ve been here. And you will never know what it’s like to have your soul ripped away from you like I have.”
“You’re right,” Darius snapped. “I don’t know what you’ve been through any more than you know what I have. It hurt when I found out that Lexi had died. I can’t fathom the kind of pain you feel from that. If I didn’t respect you as much as I do, and if you didn’t have a child to take care of, I might just consider letting you find out the hard way that there’s no relief in drinking. It doesn’t take away the pain. It doesn’t make you strong enough to face it.”
“With all due respect, Governor, when you look at Andrea, you see a colonist. A baby. Maybe a future contributor to your cause here. Do you know what I see?”
Darius shook his head.
“Her. I see my wife. The woman I was meant to love and protect for the rest of my life. I see my failure,” he screamed, his armor cracking as the tears flowed freely.
“She’s your daughter.”
Cal lunged suddenly, catching Darius off guard. He grabbed the bottle with one hand, spun around, and hurled it into the door. Hundreds of tiny shards of glass glittered in the light of the lamp as they fell to the ground. The room was filled in seconds with the pungent tang of whiskey. Cal turned his back to the counter and slid down until he was sitting, tearing at his hair as he sobbed. Darius took a knee next to him.
“You don’t have time to figure this out,” he sniffed in disdain. “You have someone who needs your protection and love, and you’re ignoring her in favor of self-destruction. Now, I’ll sit here with you for one hour. If she’s still crying after that hour, I’m taking her with me for the night. Maybe longer.”
“Good, she’d be better off.”
Darius crossed his arms as he stood up, burying his clenched fists under his armpits. “Any man who thinks his own child is better off without him isn’t fit to live in this colony. Now I’m going to chalk that up to the alcohol and pretend I didn’t hear it. Stand up. You’ve got fifty nine minutes, and I suggest you use them wisely.”
It didn’t take Cal fifty nine minutes to feed and calm Andrea. Darius was rather shocked by how quickly Cal was able to prepare and feed her a bottle, as well as settle her down. Whether from her exhaustion or Cal’s, both of them were asleep after only forty minutes. Darius quietly stole out of the shop to make his long overdue journey to his own bed.
Gabrielle Serrano
21 June, 6 yal, early afternoon
Mainland coast, est. 70 miles from archipelago
Progress was a funny thing to Gabi. Though it was clear they were on the path that Will had drawn out, turning north along the continental mainland and away from the tropics, the scenery didn’t seem all that different. The coast was still lined with lush jungle canopies towering over white sand, and the mountain peaks were a little taller. Though in this place there were a few more jagged rocks jutting up from the otherwise pristine beaches. The only real change was that the landmass was one huge, unbroken ribbon that extended as far as the eye could see. No chains of islands to speak of.
Will had told her to be patient, but that was becoming more difficult by the day. They hadn’t set ashore since they left their home islands; Will proclaimed this was necessary for safety, though wouldn’t explain any further. He had withdrawn nearly into a shell after they found a torn sail and part of a mast in the water the day before, wreckage from one of the other two ships. In his contemplative state, Marya’s presence had grown nearly intolerable, and had Gabi contemplating the wisdom of leaving the crew behind and swimming to shore. If she h
ad thought she had a chance of surviving either the swim or the wilderness alone, that chain of thought would have lasted more than a couple minutes.
Gabi scurried across the woven netting between pylons and climbed onto the starboard outrigger. She stretched out in its dugout hull, taking in the warm sun as she dangled her left leg over the outrigger, dipping her foot into the crisp water. Diego shouted something barely coherent about wanting to join her, and began whining when she ignored him.
I’m out here to get away from you, she thought, irritated by the nuisance.
Someone eventually quieted him down, most likely Kristin. It was one of the things she was good at. That, and being a peacekeeper. But with her brother out of the game mentally, Kristin had difficulty keeping Marya from antagonizing Gabi. Worse, it seemed that Kristin didn’t always believe Gabi that she was innocent, that she had no part in their squabbles. Marya could convince her now and then that an argument was Gabi’s fault, even when she was clearly to blame.
Gabi pushed aside the thoughts of her rival. She found herself dozing off as the boat rocked hypnotically. Dreams of the future came to her, flowing in an ephemeral dance. She pictured a tiny town, not much smaller than the one she was born in on Earth. The landscape was far greener than she was used to, however; this was something that came from Will’s description of what the other colony should look like. Tall trees shaded the village, though she always had difficulty reconciling Will’s stories with the palms that she was so familiar with. They always ended up oddly top-heavy in her dreams.
Then there was a shift in her subconscious theater. She was in the wilderness, stalking along a stream that climbed rapidly into the mountains. She knew her quarry had gone into the stream itself, and she was examining shifting patterns of silt to determine where it had gone. A twig snapped from somewhere behind her, and she wheeled around. Slowly padding forward in a crouched position, a very fat black-and-white cat with blue eyes faced her. Gabi drew her arrow back and took aim. But when the creature yawned and lay down, she hesitated.
“Pelusina?” she asked.
The cat let loose a throaty growl that was half purr. It shifted to its side and stretched out lazily.
Gabi smiled and took two steps forward. “Pelusina! I’ve missed you.”
Pelusina flexed her paws, baring her claws for a brief second before they retracted. Her voice uttered something almost human.
“What is it, girl?”
Without warning, Gabi slipped and fell into the creek. She gasped for air and bolted upright, thrashing around her. Her bow was missing, and searing light forced her to squint. She coughed, spitting up a tiny amount of salt water. Her confusion mounted quickly, and her heart began to race as she scanned her surroundings.
She was awake and on the ship. She was also drenched, as was the inside of the outrigger. Marya stood over her and grinned, tossing a bucket back into the cargo hold of the ship.
“Stop dreaming of your stupid stuffed cat. You’ve got work to do,” she sneered.
“Marya! No!” Kristin shouted from her seat at the tiller.
Gabi’s confusion quickly evaporated as her rage tore through. She gained her feet and sprang at Marya in one fluid motion, carrying both of them backwards. Gabi landed awkwardly in the emergency netting, and her arm stung as a loose palm frond sliced her skin. She bit her lip and forced the pain aside. Gabi lunged again, jamming her shoulder into Marya as she tried to get up. They each landed glancing blows on each other as they wrestled for advantageous position. The battle was short-lived, however as one of Will’s powerful arms slipped between the two girls, and Gabi was hoisted and slammed into the cargo hold as if she was nothing more than a doll.
“That’s enough, you two,” he bellowed, fire burning wild in his eyes.
“She’s the one who hit me,” Marya complained.
That lying little…
“She started it!” Gabi protested. “I was…”
She didn’t get to complete the sentence. Will reached down and grabbed her by the arms, then hurtled her into the air. Her stomach went tight, and it felt like a knife had been thrust into it. She knew instantly that she was not going to land in the netting. Will had thrown her hard astern.
“NO!” she shrieked.
She barely had time to suck in a breath and close her eyes before she hit the surface of the water. The wind was nearly knocked out of her as she landed face-first in the sea. Gabi thrashed and shot through the surface, coughing and spitting. A moment later she was treading water, spinning around to gain her bearings. The cut on her arm burned like fire. When she came about toward the ship, it was still moving off. Kristin was arguing fiercely with Will, though he demanded that she keep course.
“You ass, get back here,” Gabi screamed.
She could see Kristin push on the tiller to change course, which prompted Will to yank her from her seat and take over. Gabi’s stomach knotted even tighter than she thought possible, and her fingers began to tingle.
No. No… No, you can’t leave me here!
“Will!” she shrieked as she started to swim after the ship. “Will, I’m sorry! Please, come back!”
Her effort was futile. There was no way she could catch up. Even though the ship was just a few salvaged canoes lashed together and patched up, under full sail it could still make five knots. A quick glance at the shore told her she was probably too far away to make it. She pressed on, desperately clinging to the hope that Will would change his mind and come back for her. But as the seconds passed and Will shoved Kristin away from the helm again, that hope began to fade.
“No…”
Gabi stopped her pursuit and resumed treading water. Her heart hammered furiously in her chest, and the world at the edge of her vision seemed to darken. The nerves that once kept her calm in the face of predators failed her in that moment, reducing her to a trembling, sobbing mess.
“You promised to protect me!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, coughing as she nearly swallowed a mouthful of seawater. “Will! You promised!”
Either he could no longer hear her, or her plea fell on deaf ears as he kept his course true. She was out of options, and nearly out of time. Her strength would not last much longer. Gabi turned for shore, trying to pace herself to conserve energy. She prayed desperately that the tide was coming in, and would carry her to shore. Alone, unarmed, and without food, but alive.
A minute later she caught sight of the ship once more. The sail was down, but the bow was pointed toward her. Four oars were in the water, pulling in near perfect synchronicity. Gabi turned again, swimming again for the ship. Will scowled at her from the bow, arms folded across his chest, unmoving. Her crewmates stopped rowing when they got close, and Will knelt down to hoist Gabi into the ship. She found herself again in the hold, though this time placed gently. Diego was crying, and immediately flung his arms around her. This tiny gesture, which otherwise would have disgusted Gabi, felt welcoming under the circumstances. For the first time in years, she hugged him back.
“Are we clear now?” Will asked coldly, enunciating every syllable.
Gabi nodded quickly.
Marya hopped to the center canoe and wrapped her hand around the mast, leaning outward from it with a smug grin on her face. “So she finally got what she deserved, huh?”
Will spun around to face her, and in the same chilling voice, issued another warning. “I was making a point to both of you. So help me, Mar, if I have to throw you in, I’m not coming back to fish you out. Are we clear now?”
Marya’s grin vanished in an instant and the color drained from her scorched cheeks. She nodded, and scurried away to her duties.
Diego’s sobbing faded away, and he whispered in Gabi’s ear. “Don’t leave me. I don’t want you to go away ever.”
Gabi stroked his sandy hair and held him closer. His words tore at her heart. She had said something similar, once. And then she had been betrayed.
I’m not… am… am I doing that to him? She asked her
self in horror.
Calvin McLaughlin
5 July, 6 yal, 07:23
North Concordia
Huh, well this is harder than I thought, Cal reflected.
He stirred the slurry that would eventually become biodiesel and glycerin. Both were major products of his business, though the glycerin required additional processing to become soap. The stage of cooking that he was at required his full attention. Error would certainly render the fuel useless. That is what made Andrea’s protest aggravating.
“Daddy will be with you in a second,” he cooed, glancing over his shoulder at her bassinet, which was just underneath the corner of the shed.
She was not in danger; Cal had made sure that he placed her well away from any active equipment, and had even salvaged a fan from Michael that he used to blow any potentially hazardous fumes away from her. More than likely, she was hungry, as she didn’t settle down upon hearing his voice.
Great timing, kiddo.
As much as it pained Cal to hear her cry, he had to let her do so for a few more minutes. Balancing her care with his work was a delicate act that Cal was only beginning to understand the complexities of. The biggest issue he faced was her erratic eating and sleeping schedule. There was no guarantee that any given time of day would be clear for work. The only thing that was certain at this point was that her schedule was never the same two days in a row.
Cal finished his work and double-checked the burner, assuring that it was off. He then collected his daughter, who was still crying insistently, and went inside the shop to make her a bottle of formula. Once ready, he sat behind the counter, cradling her gently and watching her blue-green eyes flick open and fade shut as she ate her fill.
“You look so much like your mother,” he whispered and sighed. “You’re going to be a heartbreaker. Just don’t break your daddy’s heart, okay?”
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 110