Haven

by Vincent E. Sweeney

  “Exactly!” Hedrick said. “I’ve done a perfect job so far, so what’s to say I’ll do any less now?”

  “Because this will be a lot different from ruling onboard a ship, where everything is contained and… and processed,” Michael said, pleadingly. “The people are free now. They can breed and roam freely… out of your range of authority if they so wish it.” Michael leaned close to the Governor’s face. “Your power will disappear if you don’t serve the people.”

  Hedrick closed his eyes, confident that the atmosphere was affecting Michael’s judgment somehow. “My boy, these people are my people. And I will take care of them, so long as they follow me and trust me. They won’t turn away, because they wouldn’t know what to do or where to go.”

  Michael stood up straight. “You might be surprised at what the people are capable of.” He turned and began to walk out of the office, disgusted by what he had just heard. He stopped at the doorway and turned around with a final thought.

  “In the future, be mindful of one thing, sir.”

  “What’s that?” Hedrick asked, meeting Michael’s stare with his own.

  “That I did warn you.”

  Simon Carlisse walked down a sparsely lit corridor deep within the bowels of the ship. He walked in the same unconscious mechanical way he had for twenty-five years - the way an officer walks wherever he goes. Every few seconds, he would look up and whisper softly to himself the numbers marked on the door panels that he passed by.

  “G-322… G-324… G-326…” he crooned methodically. “G-328… hey, Bill,” he added, as a security officer appeared from around the corner ahead.

  “Good evening, Mr. Carlisse,” Bill replied with a polite nod, before moving on down the corridor.

  “G-332…” he resumed. “And…”

  Simon stopped. He did not read the last number aloud. He raised his fist to the door but paused for a moment. He then knocked twice before opening the door and stepping inside.

  “Steve?” he inquired.

  The room was dark within. Suddenly, a bedside lamp came on and Stephen sat up, squinting.

  “Oh, sorry,” Simon said. “I didn’t think you’d be asleep.”

  Stephen squinted harder as his memory searched for a match to the voice. He then laid his head back down and closed his eyes. “Hi, dad.”

  “I just wanted to let you know,” Simon began, “We’re going to be doing a lot of repairs tomorrow in the engine rooms. I just thought I’d see if you wanted to come help.”

  Stephen waited only a brief moment before replying, “No, thanks.”

  Simon nodded. “Okay. Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep. If you change your mind, just come on down tomorrow.” He turned to leave.

  “Me and Mandel are moving to the city tomorrow,” Stephen said, keeping his eyes closed.

  Simon lowered his head. “Oh…okay. Goodnight.”

  “G’night,” Stephen replied in a half-mumble.

  Simon closed the door behind him, taking great care to be as quiet as humanly possible. He waited in silence for a moment before heading back down the hallway in the same robotic gait he had arrived in.

  Stephen reached over and clicked off the light. He then rubbed his forehead gently and opened his eyes. He stared at the closed doorway to his room for ten more minutes before finally turning over, folding his pillow, and closing his eyes again. He hoped he would not have a bad dream now.

  II - RISKY MOVE

  1

  The morning sun had not yet peeked over the hillside as the first shuttlecraft rose high into the sky. Two others followed closely behind, and the three vessels hovered in the air a few moments before trudging off across the land in a uniform pattern.

  Onboard one of the shuttles, Stephen Carlisse looked out a window with his friend, Mandel. They were the only two civilians in the hold of the shuttle, amidst a dozen uniformed, silent soldiers. The two looked at each other, then back out the window. Still seemingly enormous, the downed ship was at least a half-kilometer away from them, resting quietly in the sodden trench like an enormous infant in a cradle. But the ship, which was now lit from behind by a spectacular orange sunrise, was not what was drawing the boys’ attention.

  A multitude of cheerful refugees was spilling out of the bowels of the ship, marching toward the deserted city with the hope of settling a new home there. Men, women and children, all carrying packs of belongings and food rations on their backs, made up a hopeful caravan that seemed to stretch on to no end. The people poured out of the spaceship in droves of hundreds. A few beasts of burden, namely horses and cattle, pulled small carts of supplies, and some land roving vehicles hauled trailers of passengers and large equipment.

  In the cockpit of the lead shuttle, Governor Hedrick tapped Michael on the shoulder. They were occupying the two passenger seats directly behind the pilots’ chairs. Michael leaned over to the Governor.

  “I want to thank you for letting my boy and his friend come along again,” Hedrick shouted. “They’re really getting a kick out of this.” He looked back at the boys, who were transfixed with something outside the window. “So am I, actually. Hah!”

  Michael smiled widely. “Oh, yes, sir,” he replied, looking at the boys. “That’s what this is all about! Having a good time!”

  Stephen and Mandel looked up to the cockpit to see Hedrick and Michael smiling at them. The Governor turned back around in his seat, at which point, Michael’s smile turned into a sneer. He stared the two boys down like misbehaved puppies. Their smiles also disappeared, and the boys looked down at the floor in front of them. Then, Michael’s smile returned.

  After a moment, Stephen felt comfortable enough to speak to Mandel again.

  “So, how long will it take the others to meet us at the city?” he asked.

  Mandel glanced out the window again. The caravan now looked like a line of marching ants, and soon they were out of sight.

  “Dad said about three weeks. That’s 25 miles a day for about 20 days…wow, 500 miles.”

  “Wow,” Stephen replied.

  “Yeah. That’s a lot, but the shuttles are supposed to fly back to them a few times each day and make pick-ups. That’s for the older people, women and children, yaddie yada…the stragglers.”

  “Oh,” Stephen said.

  The formation began to widen as the shuttles slowly broke apart form each other.

  “Hang tight, everyone!” came the pilot’s voice over the loudspeaker in the Governor’s shuttle. After only a few seconds, the whole shuttle lurched ferociously, and Stephen nearly slid off his chair. He prayed his seatbelt would not give way under the strain. Soon after the first shuttle blasted to supersonic speeds, the other two fired their own accelerators and came up from behind as before, only much further to the sides this time. Stephen closed his eyes and tried not to imagine what horrendous carnage would result if two of the shuttles were to collide while flying so fast. A vision of twisted metal and flaming bodies crashing into the trees flashed before his eyes, but was stopped by a loud, belching sound and then a splat of fluid on the floor.

  When the shuttle leveled its pace, Stephen saw his friend’s breakfast scattered across his own boots. All the other men were looking at them, annoyed and disgusted.

  “Okay, that’s just sick, Man. Really, that’s gross,” Stephen said, shaking his head. He looked at the other men, and tried to mimic their disgusted glare. “This kid… good grief…” he shouted, rolling his eyes.

  “Well, freakin’ sorry!” Mandel shouted as he leaned over himself and spat on the floor.

  Stephen looked away, holding his superior countenance, and grateful that he had not been the one who had thrown up. He swallowed hard and tried to think of something other than how close he had been to vomiting himself.

  Michael looked back at the cargo hold and then glared at the Governor.

  “He cleans that up when we land,” Michael declared.

  Governor Hedrick looked back only a moment before nodding spastically.
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  “Absolutely!” he agreed.

  The shuttles blasted across the coastline toward the city, leaving a trail of swaying trees in their wake.

  The city looked as glorious and tranquil as before. Stephen again found himself standing in awe as he surveyed the city up close.

  “Wow,” he muttered.

  Mandel looked up from where he was scrubbing. “What?” he asked.

  “I said, ‘Wow! ’” Stephen repeated.

  “Oh,” Mandel replied. “That’s what I thinking too. I didn’t know a stomach could hold this much.”

  Stephen grinned. “Apparently it can’t.”

  “Shut up!” Mandel retorted, as he wrung out his rag over the bucket.

  Stephen walked to the top of the loading ramp and watched the scene outside. The military men were unloading equipment and supplies, taking care to avoid the two boys off to the side. The shuttles were parked in a line, each facing away from the city so their loading ramps were towards the open gate. Robotically, the officers and technicians marched back and forth from the city gate to the ramps, hauling huge gray crates into the city limits, and then going back for more.

  Stephen jumped as he saw a huge spray of water fly past him. Mandel had emptied out his bucket.

  “Hey, watch it!” Stephen said.

  “Paybacks, bro. Hehe.”

  Michael approached, and began walking up the ramp toward them. The boys hushed.

  “We’re going back for more. We’ll be back in an hour or two. In the meantime, I want you two to go with that party over there.”

  Michael pointed to a small crowd of soldiers standing a bit away from the shuttles. They were nodding as they accepted orders from the tall, high-ranking officer in front of them whom everyone knew to be Dylan Hamish, Michael’s second-in-command.

  Dylan was an exceptionally tall fellow, but still not as tall as Michael. He was strong and tough looking, but still not as much as Michael. He was young though, much younger than Michael.

  “What are we going to do?” Mandel asked.

  “Everything they tell you to,” Michael replied, and then walked into the cargo hold.

  The boys walked down the ramp and bumped into the Governor.

  “Oh, there you are,” Hedrick said. “I want you boys to stay here and help out with the cargo and whatnot. We’re going to pick up some more supplies and people. We’ll be back this afternoon sometime.”

  The boys had no choice.

  “Okay,” Stephen said.

  Mandel reluctantly nodded his agreement too.

  Hedrick smiled. “Oh, and one more thing,” he said. The Governor held up a holstered survival knife with straps dangling from its leather sheath. He pulled out the blade to reveal an intricate design engraved in the metal. “This was mine when I was a boy, and I thought you might get some use out of it today.” He handed the knife to his son, and smiled. “That’s our family coat of arms,” he said, pointing to the engraving.

  Mandel accepted the gift with glee. “Thanks, Dad!”

  Hedrick patted them on the shoulders as he walked by, and then boarded the shuttle. The engines started up again, and the loading ramp began to rise.

  Hedrick plopped down into his passenger seat beside Michael, who was studying a monitor in front of the pilots.

  “It’s going to be great, isn’t it?” the Governor asked.

  Michael glared at him, irritated. “You really have no worry whatsoever about what happened to those people?” he asked.

  “What people?”

  “The people who built that city,” Michael said. “What happened to them?”

  Hedrick shrugged as he strapped himself into his chair. “They left.”

  Michael snorted in distaste. “They left, huh?”

  “Yes.” Hedrick turned to meet Michael Lee eye to eye.

  “What do you think happened?”

  Michael welcomed this invitation for input. “What if they were invaded?” he asked.

  “There are no bodies, Michael,” Hedrick said.

  “Who says there have to be bodies?” he replied.

  “There’s probably a lot of rogue scavengers around here. Little creatures that would carry off any thing that’s dead…”

  Hedrick waved a hand in the air, dismissing Michael’s conclusions, but the Commander wanted to finish his sentence.

  “And that could have happened decades ago, too. We don’t know when this all took place.”

  “Okay, what do you plan to do then, huh?” Hedrick had heard enough. “You expect us to eliminate the possibility of this city being our home, and just let it sit there empty, while we go build tents in the woods?”

  “No!” Michael was shouting now, as the engines grew louder. “I expect you to be safe about this, and let the city be scouted out. Let a reasonable amount of time pass before you haul off and throw these people into a potentially dangerous situation!”

  “Dangerous? It’s convenient, not dangerous!”

  Michael nodded. “That’s just it! It’s a little too convenient! If it were up to me, I’d keep the people in the ship where it’s reasonably safe, until me and my men can scout…”

  “But it’s not up to you!” Hedrick shouted, cutting Michael off. “You know the plan! Now I’ve made up my mind!”

  The shuttle jostled slightly as it lifted into the air. Hedrick turned away from the commander and folded his arms across his chest, sealing the debate with authority.

  Michael nodded, angrily. “I know!”

  In a moment, all the shuttles were in the air and heading back to the west.

  “Keep filling up the water bins, and remember to desalinate before you tap it out,” Hamish said.

  “Yes, sir,” two of the officers replied, and then marched off toward the coastline. They would have to rappel down the cliffs to the ocean, and send water up by buckets on rope and pulley.

  Stephen and Mandel walked up, quietly.

  “What do you two need?” Hamish asked, plainly.

  “Commander Lee told us to get instructions from you, sir,” Stephen answered.

  Hamish nodded. “Alright, you’ll come with me and my crew to scout the area. Search for foods and a fresh water supply. We can’t treat the salt-water forever.”

  Stephen nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mandel echoed.

  “Get whatever you need out of those,” Hamish said. He pointed over to a group of giant, black cargo crates with their top seals pulled open.

  Stephen and Mandel walked over to the crates to see that they were full of survival knives, machetes, rifle-packs, rations and hiking gear.

  A bright gleam began to shimmer in the young men’s eyes, and their mouths fell open.

  “Most excellent,” Mandel whispered.

  Stephen smiled. “No joke!”

  The officers sliced through the dense brush with their blades while Hamish followed close behind, watching a hand-held monitor as he walked. It was honing in on a water source to the north. The men blazed a wide trail, large enough for a drawn cart to be pulled through without much obstruction. They hoped this water would be fresh and steadily moving. The city would be in need of much water for all the people to survive in it.

  Stephen and Mandel followed the trailblazers from a distance. The boys were geared up as if going to war. Camouflage and face-paint hid them well from sight, but their clattering gear and weapons sounded the patrol from a kilometer away.

  Hamish closed his eyes and tried hard to maintain his composure. He found it harder and harder with each step the boys took. His men were cutting down brush and still being stealthier than the two boy scouts tagging along. Suddenly, a change in his readout caused Hamish to pause. He held up his hand in a sign for the men to stop, to which they immediately complied.

  “Stop the trail here. Head for that hill. 250 meters.” He pointed to large mound in the midst of the forest, with trees along its sides and top. “Something moving… Not the water…” he announced.

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nbsp; The men quickly holstered their machetes and drew their firearms. Stephen and Mandel looked at each other with pure excitement. They began to run towards the head of the group, but were met by Dylan with his weapon drawn.

  “You leave all that gear here, “ he commanded.

  “But what if we need some of it?” Mandel asked.

  “You won’t, “ he replied confidently. “Keep your knives and leave the rest.”

  Disappointed, the boys began shedding their canteens, compasses, scanners and food-packs. Stephen kept a machete at his side, and Mandel held on to the knife his father had given him. He drew the blade from the holster strapped to his right leg and held it at the ready.

  Dylan looked the two boys over. “Have you ever tried staff-fighting?” he asked.

  Stephen looked up and met his eyes. “What?”

  “Hand to hand combat with a staff,” Dylan continued. “Have you ever done it?”

  Both boys shook their heads and replied, “No.”

  Dylan nodded. “Let me know if you ever want to learn. I’d love to teach you a few things.” He turned and started back to the head of the party.

  Stephen looked at Mandel, who was rolling his eyes.

  The party then began to glide off towards the hilltop. They moved in and out of the brush, being careful not to create much noise.

  Near the top of the hill, Hamish held up his hand as a sign for the men to halt. He holstered his scanner and exchanged it for his rifle. Slowly, he made the final few steps to the top as all the men watched him intently, anxious for his next sign. Hamish finally peered over the top of the rise and slowly lowered his weapon. He smiled a wide, boyish grin and made a motion for the other men to come to the top with him. Stephen and Mandel could barely withhold their excitement as they quickly ambled to the top of the hill, along with the soldiers around them. At the top, they were forced to gasp in amazement.