THE LOST COLONY

by D M Arnold

  He filled a polymer tumbler with water and handed it to her. “Rinse with this... I'll help you up.”

  “Pomma beer doesn't taste nearly as bad going down as it does coming back up... How do I look?”

  “Except for the bloodshot eyes, the flushed cheeks ... and mussed hair -- you look great.” He grabbed a disposable towel, ran cold water over it and wrung it out. “Here...” She held it over her eyes. “Will you be able to eat dinner?”

  “If I go slowly, I think so. I don't think vomiting at a state dinner is appreciated here.”

  “I wonder where it IS appreciated.” he replied.

  She mopped her face with the towel. “How does this look?”

  “Better...” He adjusted her hair for her, then embraced her and kissed her forehead. “I really appreciate your help on this assignment, Andra.”

  “Thanks... I'd kiss you but I don't think you'd appreciate it from someone who just threw up.”

  “You can owe me one. Come on.” He took her hand and escorted her back to the dining room.

  * * *

  The 501's transport shuttle lifted off and headed toward space. “Well?” Nyk asked. “Did Ogan know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Last night -- about Laida?”

  “You know, Nyk -- my head was swimming when you pulled your little stunt.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I shouldn't have drunk so much pomma beer.”

  “What about Ogan?”

  “I think the number one job requirement for a prefect on this rock is the ability to hold his liquor.”

  “Does he know about Laida?”

  “I don't know ... I don't think so. These politicos are so good at covering their tracks. From what I recall -- and I don't recall much -- I'd say no, he doesn't know.”

  “So, there goes THAT theory.” Nyk gazed out the viewport. “I'm going to pop into the cockpit and watch the approach.”

  “Suit yourself,” Andra replied.

  “Come join me.”

  He unfastened his restraints and worked his way to the cockpit door. “Ah, Nykkyo -- Andra,” the pilot said. “Pull down a pair of jumpseats and make yourself at home. I didn't expect to be picking you up.”

  “Why not?”

  “The talks were planned to run another four days. You two were to remain here and return on the courier. We were scheduled to break orbit yesterday, but we were delayed.”

  “These sort of talks end when they end,” Nyk replied. “You can't predict when.” He pondered. “Break orbit yesterday? According to our arrangement, this vessel was to remain in orbit until the talks concluded.”

  “We had orders from the envoy herself.”

  “Tomyka Wells ordered the change in plans?”

  “That's right.”

  “The arrogance of that woman,” Nyk muttered to Andra. “I'll have another talk with Illya about this.”

  The shuttle approached the ExoScout and went into station-keeping. “What's the hold-up?” Nyk asked the pilot.

  “The bay's occupied. We have to hold until we get clearance.”

  “Occupied by what?”

  “A Varadan shuttle.”

  Nyk watched as the clamshell doors opened and the shuttle slipped into space. Thrusters oriented it and a set of rockets fired to send it into a surface-bound trajectory.

  “Those things are rocket-powered?” Nyk asked.

  “No,” Andra replied. “Those aren't rockets. They get thrust by blowing pomma husks out the back.”

  “I'm surprised they have a space fleet at all.”

  “They have a fleet of orbital shuttles for servicing their communications and weather satellites,” the pilot explained. “They're primitive but reliable hybrids using scramjets and rockets.”

  Nyk watched the Varadan shuttle re-enter and head toward the surface. The 501's transport shuttle landed and the pilot taxied to a parking stall on the side of the shuttle bay. “Give us a moment for pressurization,” the pilot said. “Okay, we're clear. Careful where you step. Those Varadan vessels use some nasty stuff in their thrusters, and some of it leaked onto the deck.”

  Nyk led Andra to the lift and walked with her to their cabin. “I can't wait to be underway,” he said.

  * * *

  Nyk paced his cabin. “We've been stuck in orbit half a day,” he said. “I think I keep hearing shuttles land.”

  “We've been here eight Floran days,” Andra replied. “It took four for us to get here and it'll take four to go home. Half a day more won't make much difference.”

  “I suppose... Let's go up to the observation lounge.” He led her to the lift and rode it to the circular, domed cabin atop the scout. He stood, looked aftward and pointed. “It looks like another shuttle coming in...” He watched as the craft slid into the clamshell doors. “What could they be loading?”

  Zane stepped into the lounge. “Here you are... We're about ready to get underway,” he announced. “Captain wanted me to tell you.”

  “Zane -- what are those shuttles delivering?” Nyk asked.

  “Samples of Varadan goods,” Zane replied.

  “What goods?”

  “That I don't know. All I know is they're samples.”

  “I know,” Andra replied. “Whole pomma, hulled pomma, pomma flour, pomma bread, pomma beer, pomma cakes, pomma brew, pomma meal...” She counted on her fingers.

  “They must have manufactured goods,” Zane observed. “It's not an agricultural society. You can tell so from orbit -- they're mechanized down there.”

  “I'd say in terms of advancement, they're mid-way between Earth and Floran. I can't imagine we'd be interested in Varadan technology -- THAT exchange would be in the other direction.”

  The shuttle departed. “That's the last delivery,” Zane said. “We'll be underway shortly. I must man my post.”

  Nyk sat on a bench and belted himself in. “Now, it's jump after jump after jump,” he said.

  Six wedge-shaped flash shields slid into place to cover the lounge dome. Warp indicator lamps flashed white, then blue and the first jump throbbed through the scout's structure.

  * * *

  Nyk strolled onto the bridge. He saw the captain and astral navigator conferring. “Do some more probing,” the captain instructed. He looked up. “Ah, Nykkyo.”

  “Just looking for a progress report,” Nyk said.

  “It's slow going,” the captain replied. “If our probing works out, we'll make one more jump this watch.”

  “Then what?”

  “We'll let the warp coil re-form overnight and begin again in the morning.”

  Nyk headed back to his cabin. “News?” Andra asked.

  “I have no idea where we are.” He picked up his handheld vidisplay. “What I do know is, we're in deep space and out of range of the comm net.” He showed her the screen. “No signal...”

  “Let's have a dinner package devoid of any pomma and turn in,” she replied.

  12 -- Mystery Cargo

  Nyk lay in his bunk, eyes wide open. Andra lay beside, her back to him. He looked at the clock. Nadir-one, he thought, and wondered what sort of graveyard watch was kept on this bucket.

  He nudged Andra. “Wake up.”

  “What?”

  “Something's been bothering me. Our mission was to return home with that Letter of Intent.”

  “Which we are doing.”

  “There was no mention during any of our talks of returning with Varadan goods -- and, no mention during any of our briefings. And, there's Tomyka trying to change the mission plans. If she had her way, we'd still be on Varada and this craft would be heading home without us.”

  “That's why I'm so happy you stared her down. I spent all the time on that planet I could stand.”

  “That's not it. I think something's going on in the background -- something we weren't supposed to witness. And, I think we should take a look at the cargo we're hauling. Call it more intelligence gathering.”

  �
�What time is it?”

  “Nadir-one standard -- halfway through second watch. Come on -- put some clothes on.” He opened a drawer and withdrew a handheld lamp.

  The deck two corridor was empty. Nyk called the lift and looked at the control panel. “Deck five -- cargo hold,” he said. “Let's look there.”

  The lift carried them to the deck directly above the warp coil and fusion reactors. “Tread softly,” he said. “Engineering is manned around the clock. Footsteps would be transmitted through this metal decking.” Andra nodded.

  He swung his lamp around the hold. “Empty,” Andra said.

  “That makes no sense,” he replied. He scanned the hold from stem to stern, and from port to starboard. “Just one big empty ... room. I don't know how many shuttles landed. They were offloading something.”

  “What's one deck up?” she asked.

  “Shuttle bay -- and settlers' barracks.”

  “This ship has a skeleton crew,” she replied. Maybe they left the cargo in the shuttle bay.”

  “Maybe...”

  He returned to the lift and called the car. The liftcar doors opened.

  He pressed the panel for deck four. A scanpad lit up.

  “Deck four is locked out,” Andra said.

  “I don't dare a wristscan. The captain said decks four through six are off-limits to us. I'm sure we're not authorized and a scan could trigger an alarm.”

  “Zane didn't need a wristscan when he brought us through here on that tour.”

  “That's right -- this is something new...”

  “...and suspicious,” she added. “What do we do? Go back down and use the freight lift?”

  “That would make way too much noise.” He cancelled the call and pressed the panel for deck three. “With my scale models, I'm probably as familiar with this tub's layout as a crewman...”

  The lift carried them up. He exited and led her down the corridor. “Is there another lift?” she asked.

  “No. There are 'tweendecks ladderways, but I'm sure they're locked. This way...”

  He led her down the corridor, past doorways labeled Sick Bay, Crew Mess and Galley. They approached a bulkhead with a door marked Passengers' Mess. He pressed the actuator and another scanpad illuminated. “It's locked, too.”

  “Why would we want to go in there?” Andra asked.

  “If we were on a seeding mission, we'd have five hundred settlers on board. Five hundred passengers who need to be fed. Five hundred of them going up and down from the barracks to the mess hall might tie up that one lift -- and interfere with the running of the ship.”

  “There must be a passageway between the mess hall and deck four -- don't you think?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don't think so. I know so. Come here...”

  He led her in the opposite direction to the galley and pressed the actuator. Yet another scanpad lit up. “I'm going to take my chances with this one,” he said. “They wouldn't begrudge us a midnight snack, would they?”

  He pressed his wrist against the scanpad and the door slid open. “Quietly,” he whispered. “The captain's cabin is directly overhead.” Nyk swung his lamp around the galley, illuminating stasis cabinet after stasis cabinet and banks of warmers. “They need lots of meals on a seeding mission,” he whispered. “The pantry is on the other side, under the first officer's cabin.” His beam stopped on a serving counter under an archway. The arch was closed with a tambour gate. “The mess hall is behind there.”

  A chirp came from the galley door. Andra grabbed and squeezed his shoulder. Nyk doused his lamp and the two of them froze, their backs against the bulkhead and behind some stasis cabinets.

  The ambient lighting came on. Footsteps entered the galley. Nyk heard someone open a cabinet, rummage around inside and close it. The footsteps crossed to the warmers. The warmer door opened, closed and the keypad beeped. The door opened again; then the footsteps grew distant. The ambient lighting switched off and the galley door slid shut.

  Nyk switched on his lamp and probed around the archway. He pressed a control and the tambour retracted. The beam from his lamp searched the empty mess hall. Long tables were folded into their stowed positions against the inside of the hull.

  He hopped onto the serving counter and swung his feet to the deck. Andra clambered over the barrier and stood beside him. Then, Nyk leaned over the counter and pressed the actuator again. The tambour began to close.

  He swung his lamp around and stopped it on a broad, spiral staircase leading below decks. Andra followed him down. They approached another bulkhead with a closed door. Nyk reached for the actuator. “It's probably locked, too,” Andra said.

  “Perhaps -- if so, it's from the other side. The object would be to keep passengers OUT of the mess hall between meal calls.” He pressed the actuator and the door slid open.

  Andra grabbed his hand as they walked down the corridor past one barracks door after another. “Twenty barracks,” he whispered, “ten on a side. Each accommodates twenty-five settlers.” His lamp probed the corridor.

  The passageway widened into an antechamber immediately forward of the shuttlebay. The pressure door was wide open. Nyk led Andra into the bay and began scanning it with his lamp. “Empty!” she said.

  His lamp paused on the transport shuttle, parked in its stall. He flashed it onto thruster packs and the personal thruster-cycle Zane had used. Nyk trained the lamp on the deck. “Look -- calling cards from the Varadan shuttles. Their corrosive thruster fuel has eaten holes in the coating on the deck.” He pointed with the beam and counted. “... five, six... If you count the spots on the deck, you can see there were at least six separate shuttle flights.”

  “Proof positive they were here. What were they doing?”

  “We're on a fool's errand,” he said. “Whatever it is, it's well hidden. We might as well go back to our cabin.”

  “Do we need to go back up to the mess hall?” she asked.

  “Let's try the lift.” He pressed the call button. “Like the mess hall, the object is to keep us off this deck. I'll bet they assume anyone who makes it here, belongs here.”

  “Nyk!” she whispered. “Did you hear that?

  “Hear what?”

  “It sounded like a moan.” The liftcar arrived and the door slid open. “There it is again.”

  “I heard it that time.” He stepped into the car, pressed the control for deck two and stepped back into the corridor.

  They approached the first barracks door. Nyk touched an actuator and the door slid open. He swung his lamp around and gasped.

  The two dozen cots in the cabin were occupied by semi-conscious, green-skinned men.

  “My goodness!” Andra whispered.

  He looked in the barracks across the corridor and found more novonids.

  “So much for Ogan's absolute assurances.”

  “What about ours? You had it from the Secretary's office we would never do anything like this.”

  “Tomyka Wells!” Nyk hissed. “She must be behind this.”

  “Why?”

  “Kronta told me she's tied in with the Gamman Ag ministry. They've been frantic to figure out how to deal with all the new grain coming from the Altian-Lexalese detente. I wouldn't put it past them to give novonids a try. It certainly would drive down their production costs.”

  Andra pressed the actuator on barracks number three. Nyk heard more moaning. He swung his lamp and its beam illuminated a familiar face. “Laida!”

  “Nykkyo?” He knelt and embraced her. “You're not involved in this, are you?”

  “No -- I'm appalled by it,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “I didn't think you were,” she gasped. “Sunstarved ... torpor setting in ... can't stand ... very weak. Where am I?”

  “You're in the exo scout. And, the exo scout is very far from both Floran and Varada... Andra, you stay with her.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the galley.”

  * * *

  Ny
k entered the barracks. Andra knelt, holding Laida's head in her lap and caressing her cheeks. “Help her sit,” Nyk said. “Laida -- drink this -- drink it down like medicine.”

  “What is it?”

  “Glucose syrup in water.”

  Laida emptied the glass. “It burns in my stomach.”

  “I imagine it does, but it should help the sun-hunger.”

  “Mmm,” she moaned and folded her arms across her abdomen. “It hurts.”

  “I feel the same way when I've had too much of something sweet,” Nyk said. “It'll pass as you absorb the sugar.”

  Laida leaned over and retched. “I want to vomit.”

  “Try to keep it down.” He held her and caressed her arms. “It won't do you any good if you throw it up.”

  “Ohhh... I am feeling stronger ... the nausea is starting to pass...”

  “What happened to you?” Andra asked.

  “They came for me -- right after I cleaned your room...”

  “After our visit to Ramina? Oh, Laida -- I'm so sorry to have gotten you into this.”

  “You didn't, Nykkyo -- it wasn't anything you did. I'm responsible.”

  “How?”

  “I'm associated with a woman in the BSS who's advocating greater freedom for us novonids. She uses me as an example. I'll go with her to BSS meetings, lectures and the like -- give readings...”

  “YOU can read?” Nyk started laughing.

  “Do you, too, find the notion absurd?”

  “Not at all, Laida. I know you're capable of far more than the Varadans care to admit. Ramina told us you're exceptionally bright. I doubt even she appreciates how bright you are -- how bright all of your kind are.”

  “Ramina doesn't know about this... I learned from the BSS that the Florans were negotiating to bring some novonids to your world.”

  “Not to MY world,” he replied. “Did you by any chance hear anyone discuss a place called Gamma-5?”

  “Now that you mention it,” she mused. “Yes, I did hear that.”

  “I knew it! This had nothing to do with the talks I was involved with, Laida. Believe me. It must've been going on the side.”