The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books

by John Thornton

  “Yes, yes, yes. You are correct,” Danny cried and covered his face. “I never memorized the final parts of that music, yet you played it. You cannot be from my mind. You must be real.”

  “We are not hallucinations, but are real people.” Jerome carefully hugged the old man. “We need to learn how to survive on the Conestoga, and you can help us. This is our home now, and you know how to make it work.”

  Danny turned and nestled into the hug. “Nothing much works now. They came and killed all the brains. How did yours survive?”

  “We were not here,” Cammarry said. “So Sandie was safe. Who came? Why did they do so much destruction?”

  “You were not here? Of course, you were in suspended animation, but your brain? Your SB? Habbie people came. Angry, terrified, ugly people. The accident…. Nothing much works,” Danny replied with a faraway look in his old eyes. He turned back to the piano and began to play a soft and placid melody. As he played he spoke. “The main kitchen back there has water, and basic power, but no automation. The plants and animals are here now, but were not when things were working. Never were supposed to be animals on the needle ship. Animals and plants in habbies only…Is that right? I forget. The insurrectionists came and killed the flight crew. Blamed us for the accident. They blamed us, yes they did. I was here at this muster station.” His hands shook a bit and he hesitated then began playing, then paused. He took several deep breaths and then continued both playing and talking. “Got a last message from the Captain, then the storm of dirt came. I thought that would kill the rest of us, but it just settled in on most everything. Plants grew in it. Then animals came. I thought, well, I thought about trying to go back to Habitat Eight, was it Habitat Eta? I did not abandon my post…. I did not….. Habitat Eta, or Eight, Ate? It does not matter, it was already gone, saw it on the monitors… all the habbies being jettisoned. I saw that before they crapped out… nothing works now.”

  “Danny, how can we get a signal through? Where is the communication equipment? We need to find a way,” Cammarry stated.

  “Dumb, dumb, dumb. No way. All the brains are kaput, killed, murdered, destroyed!” Danny grew quite agitated. “I told you that, you fools. No such thing as faster-than-light communications, there is nothing like that. Leave me alone! No more SBs! Only brains around now are in the habbies, maybe. The habbies are all gone, so no brains. No SBs to organize anything. No SBs to fix anything. Just me, and the fools around here. No more SBs!”

  “The artificial intelligences are in the habitats?” Cammarry asked with sudden interest. “Is there a way to communicate from here to those systems? Did they make planet fall? How can we converse with those systems, those, synthetic brains? We need to find a way to connect back to Dome 17.”

  “Leave me alone!” Danny muttered. He then closed his eyes and continued to play the piano. The music was soft and mellow, with some interesting discordance. “The music sooths me. The music soothes me.”

  “You will tell me what I want to know, and tell me now!” Cammarry said in a low and threatening voice.

  Jerome looked in shock to Cammarry. She started to say more, but he reached out and touched her on the arm. “We should leave him be now. Perhaps another time we can ask him for help.”

  “I must know!” Cammarry snapped back. “Or have you forgotten that all those people in Dome 17 need to be rescued? Do you just want them to die?”

  Jerome pulled back a bit, surprised at the vehemence of Cammarry’s outburst. “You know I wanted to save them.”

  “Wanted, but do not now? We can still save them, if we can get connected. I am not ready to be a quitter!” Cammarry yelled as she turned away from the old man playing the piano, and from Jerome.

  “Cammarry?” Jerome said quietly.

  She stomped away.

  Jerome hesitated a bit and then took a couple steps after her.

  “Chickens. Yes, chickens might help. A broadcasting link from a shuttle might connect to a habbie, if you could find a shuttle. If an SB exists still, maybe? Engineering is at the stern. Chickens?” Danny mumbled as he continued to play. “Engineering has shuttles, maybe. Maybe shuttles have working broadcast-able links, maybe. Maybe talk to a habbie. If someone is there to talk to, maybe? Must pass chickens and those idiots. Maybe hallucinations, or maybe not? Probably hallucinations, but they knew music. How? Chickens are all over. All SBs are dead. Dead as chicken bones, but maybe? Hall of the Mountain King? But a shuttle might help them, maybe.”

  Jerome listened. He then spoke quietly, “Sandie? Would the medical kit help this man?”

  The AI replied, “There is a strong potential for help, depending on the level or causes of his dementia. You would need to connect the leads to his head, on either side. He may not allow that.”

  “I heard that SB you call Sandie again,” Danny replied. “Sandie, what a stupid name for a synthetic brain. Sandie sounds like a dancer or entertainer, not a brain. Fools, chickens, goats, and hallucinations. I need my music. What harm can a hallucination do to me?”

  Jerome considered using the medical kit immediately, but was worried about Cammarry. He raced after her. “We can use the medical kit on that old man, Danny. Cammarry? Cammarry?”

  He caught up to her a few tent rows over and near a large goat skin which was hanging to dry. The smell from the skin was pungent, and the tents obscured the view back to where the Old One and the piano were located.

  “Jerome, I am so sorry for being mean to you. Please forgive me,” Cammarry said as she reached out to him. “I said very angry things. I was wrong.”

  Jerome wrapped his arms around her. “The stress is terrible, and we are both overwhelmed. All is forgiven. Shall we try the medical kit on that Cadet Danny? It might clear his mind and heal whatever is causing his problems. Then we can ask him for more details.”

  “Certainly. That is a great idea. Thanks for your forgiveness,” Cammarry replied. “But I do not hear his music anymore.”

  Hand in hand they rushed back and found the piano bench was empty. Danny, the Old One, was missing. The elderly man who had once been an aspiring Cadet was gone.

  “Danny?” Jerome called. “Danny? Where are you?”

  “Danny! I am sorry I spoke harshly to you!” Cammarry yelled. “I apologize for being that way. Come back, please.”

  There was no answer, even though their voices echoed across the room.

  “Where did he go?” Cammarry asked. “This is my fault. I pressed too hard.”

  There came a laugh from near one of the tents. “You did nothing wrong. The Old One is always like that. He is unpredictable.” Khin was chuckling as he spoke. “Sometimes he will tell a long and complicated story. Sometimes he rants. Sometimes he sits in quiet. Sometimes he just sits and plays his old noise machine. He is the Old One. That is how he is.”

  “Khin? He said something about shuttles in engineering,” Jerome related. “Can you lead us there?”

  “I can, but will I?” Khin laughed. “You just got here. I was going to show you how to make cheeses, and how to milk a nanny goat. Others here can teach you about tanning leather, and preserving meat for a journey. I thought that is what you wanted, to know how to make foods.”

  “Jerome, what do you mean about a shuttle in engineering?” Cammarry asked.

  Jerome explained the brief conversation he had with Cadet Danny, the Old One regarding the shuttle and engineering.

  “You think he meant we could make a connection?” Cammarry asked.

  Sandie the AI answered. “I can replay his exact words if you so desire.”

  “No need, what is your assessment?” Cammarry replied.

  Sandie continued. “The man called Danny is obviously mentally ill, probably suffering from some forms of dementia, and exhibiting signs of severe post-traumatic-stress. He assumes each and every artificial intelligence system on the needle ship was destroyed, but we know of that tertiary system, Cabta 3F which survived. I have been unable to make contact with that system. That bein
g acknowledged, Danny’s assertion may be functionally correct, as we have yet to see any other working sentient Conestoga systems. I conjecture that his somewhat incoherent comments do reflect legitimate potentials. Shuttles are known to have been used on the needle ship, although the two gigs which we have assessed so far did not have functional communication equipment. I resurveyed them after Danny’s revelation. The communication apparatus on each of them was destroyed. I am unable to ascertain when that happened, but it was roughly the same time as the growth material was distributed. The engineering section would be a logical location for a shuttle. I suggest we proceed to that location, after you gather the needed supplies.”

  “Your spirit-ghost Sandie suggests another quest?” Khin chortled. “The Old Man is hiding. Might not see him for days and days. He knows too many hiding places, and how to open up doors. Like you, he can read!” Khin found that last comment especially funny and he held his side as he laughed vigorously.

  “If we can find a shuttle, that might allow us to contact Dome 17 and save our people,” Cammarry stated.

  Jerome put his hand on her shoulder. “Cammarry, we are in this together, but we did just arrive here. We have no idea how far away the engineering areas are, nor the condition of the ship between here and there. This will take some planning, and some preparation. The needle ship is something like 200 kilometers long, and I doubt it is a straight path to our destination.”

  “We are already way far behind schedule,” Cammarry argued. “This might be the final chance, and we need to leave as soon as possible.”

  Sandie added in, “The readings taken show that the needle ship is 206.129 kilometers long when measured along its central body. I have been estimating your position as you have progressed. You are now 34.47 kilometers from the bow, and therefore a significant distance from the stern. From the scout ship’s scans, the engine section was estimated to be…”

  “Khin has not even agreed to lead us there,” Jerome interrupted. “Besides, in all that area, we do not know where engineering is even located.”

  “Then we go alone. We can find it. We made it to the Conestoga, right?”

  Jerome turned to Khin, “How long will it take to get to engineering?”

  “Things always take as long as they take.” Khin laughed. “So you do want to start yet another wizard’s quest! Well, I am not exactly sure what the Old One means by a place called engineering. I know where the Fruit People live, and where the Chicken People live. I know some places like the Graveyard of Dead Minds, the Land of Bad Air, The Burning Netherworld, and others, but engineering is just an Old Man myth.”

  “So you cannot help us anyway,” Cammarry said dismissively. Jerome, we should just leave now. We will find it on our own.”

  “Cammarry, if we do this alone, we are looking at searching an area something like 500 square kilometers, with very little support or equipment. We need Khin and the other indigenous people to help us.”

  Khin laughed and laughed. “In Dig In Us? What does that mean? I know the Goat People, the Fruit People, and the Chicken People, but who are the In Dig In Us People?” His laughter was bright and sparkling. “Another major people group? There are wizards, thieves, and some others who wander, but is this another major people group?”

  Cammarry turned away in anger. Khin’s humor was growing as stale as some of the air.

  “Khin, will you help us find the place? We will need food and guidance. If you do not know where engineering is, maybe we can get that old Danny to tell us? Or the other people might know where we can find engineering or a shuttle,” Jerome said.

  “Yes, yes,” Khin giggled. “I will take you. We will need to first get supplies of food. I wanted to teach you about cheeses and dried meats and how to make them. But that can happen another time, yes? So we journey to meet the Fruit People, they live in the middle of the world, while the Chicken People live at the far other side of the world.”

  “Excuse me?” A woman said as she peeked around a tent. “Elsa said some wizards were here, and that they were offering blessings to children. I came here to ask a blessing.”

  Jerome and Cammarry turned and looked at the woman. She was even thinner than the others they had seen, and her age was hard to determine. She was not a child, nor did see seem to be elderly, yet she carried herself in a weary manner. Her dark hair hung downcast, in a way that matched her oblong eyes. She stepped forward and a child was holding her hand.

  “Hello. I am Jerome and this is Cammarry. How can we help?”

  The child had his head turned into his mother’s legs. He was grasping the goatskin pants she was wearing. He had only three fingers on each hand, and his legs were bowed in an obviously painful manner. “It hurts me.”

  “I am Renata; this is my son Clark. Can you give him a blessing?” the woman pleaded.

  Cammarry pulled out the medical kit and walked toward the woman and her child. She squatted down next to him and pulled out the wires.

  “I will just need to touch Clark with these. It will not hurt him,” Cammarry said.

  Renata nodded. Clark turned to face them, and the anxiety and nervous tension in his face was severe. “It hurts me.”

  “He says that almost all the time,” Renata stated.

  After connecting the wires, Cammarry activated the diagnostics. A moment later the medical kit’s screen read out. ‘Child with severe congenital defects. These could have been prevented with proper gamete compatibility prior to conception. Also significant trauma damage to nerves in legs. Condition irreversible. No corrective treatment possible. Palliative cares offered. Inject into any major muscle group. Prognosis, no recovery. Long term pain management will be enhanced by injection.’

  Neither Jerome, nor Cammarry read aloud the assessment’s dire findings.

  A syringe slid out of the side of the medical kit.

  “Trauma like Willie’s arm?” Jerome asked as he nodded at the child’s legs.

  “Yes,” Cammarry replied as she thought of the Quartermaster back in Dome 17 whose arm had been in a sling for as long as she could recall.

  Jerome took the syringe as Cammarry unhooked the medical kit.

  “What blessing can you wizards offer my Clark?”

  “This medicine will help,” Jerome said. He placed the syringe against the child’s bare shoulder and the injection was administered. Jerome expected the child to jump or make some kind of response, but he did not.

  Jerome put the empty syringe back into the slot on the medical kit so it would be de-atomized and recycled.

  “Momma, it does not hurt so much,” Clark said and lifted his eyes to meet his mother’s.

  Tears of joy ran down her face. She grabbed him up in her arms and rushed away. As she did, she turned briefly and called over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “But we did not save that child,” Cammarry said with trembling lips. “He is not cured.”

  “We did what we could, where we are, with what he have,” Jerome recited. “That is the best any of us can ever do.”

  4 The Shadow

  Khin found them a usable apartment not too far from the dining hall. It had some running water, and a serviceable toilet. The kitchen was destroyed, but the bed was relatively free from fungal growth.

  “This is where you can sleep, or whatever you need to do,” Khin said. “There is always some kind of food available in the dining area, near where the music is played. Can you find your way back there?”

  “Certainly,” Cammarry snapped. “I will not be here long anyway.”

  “If you come to a wire fence blocking a hall, do not open it. The goat herds are in those halls, and when they get loose it is hard to catch them again. So keep the fences closed,” Khin chuckled. “I am going to spend time with my father and mother and see if they will give us food for the next quest.”

  “Thank you Khin. Good fences make good neighbors,” Jerome called after him as he trotted down a hallway.

  Khin’s laugh echoed from the
corridor. The single word, “Wizards” was part of that mirth.

  Cammarry set her backpack down near the bed. “Sandie? Any connections back to Dome 17?”

  “No. There is no change in that status,” the AI reported.

  “Are you even trying?” Cammarry said sarcastically.

  “Yes, I am still scanning for the signal. I am running conjectures on how to overcome the Cosmic Crinkle, and I am doing further assessments on our exact astrological location. I have made no progress in any of those areas, but I will inform you when I do,” Sandie replied.

  “Will it over tax you if you also assess the nonphysicality from here?”