HOME PLANET
PART III: ARCADIA
(First Edition)
by
T.J. SEDGWICK
1
Hawaii, but not as we knew it. All over planet Earth, the apocalyptic impact had left its mark. Now Laetitia and I sat watching through the shuttle’s visual display surfaces, as the outside camera feeds rendered the fuselage transparent. Valdus sat silently tied to the front-row seat, a long way from his vile little empire centered on what used to be downtown LA. No doubt, the brutal ex-despot was contemplating what his fate would be after we’d extradited him.
“How you enjoying the flight?” I asked him, smiling to Laetitia beside me.
He grunted but said nothing.
“I don’t think he’s much of a flyer,” I said.
“No, Mr. Luker,” said the android. “He fears either the sensation or his belief that it is heretical to fly.”
“Well, I’m enjoying the flight,” I said, watching the panorama laid out before us.
The lowland terrain looked more like Siberia in mid-summer than the previously tropical playground. To the south was ocean, and to the north, the rest of Oahu stretched halfway to the horizon. Where once stood the capital city of Honolulu was now boreal forest, grasslands and scrub. Whatever fate had befallen Oahu, it had been enough to cause nature’s reclamation of its former city. Two mountain ranges—which told me were the Waianae range to the west and Koolau range to the east—ran almost parallel to one another. A few miles north, the Koolau spine curved east-west to form an eighteen hundred foot high backdrop of parallel north-south ridges. Behind it, rose a white plume of steam from an unseen source and beyond that, amongst the forest, there stood a tower. Not a tower as in a building, but more like a drilling rig derrick. I didn’t think Hawaii had any oil or gas, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a rig at all. Around the crater, the straight edges of crop fields formed a patchwork quilt. Further away, at the base of some grass-covered lower slopes, the white coats of sheep dotted the landscape along with the odd building. I guessed the buildings were somehow related to farming. From an altitude of fifteen hundred feet, I could see that the five geodesic domes filled the entire crater. They nestled inside its roughly oval outline and overlapped each other to form a continuous roof. The northeast rim of the crater faded out to the flat ground beyond, its two opposite sides sloping to nothing. This formed an opening to the dome city and contained a collection of perhaps two dozen small buildings with steeply sloping roofs. This told me that, although snow clung only to the higher reaches of the mountains now, heavy snow would come in colder months. A dirt trail left the crater settlement and wound its way to the southern coastline where a wooden jetty pointed due south. A collection of fishing boats—most of them no more than rowing boats—sat moored there. One looked more substantial, like a small trawler, but somehow more primitive than those I’d seen before. And then there was the seaplane, twin-engined, silver and moored alongside the trawler.
“You see that? People!” I said.
I almost waved, instinctively thinking that because the fuselage looked transparent it was. The three figures far below—two adults and a child—looked up. The man and woman stood frozen to the spot, faces skyward, as the little one pointed and clung to his mom. At their feet was a basket of fish.
“Guess we’d better try to call the control tower before they scramble the jets,” I said.
“Mr. Luker, it is unlikely they have a control tower or jets. Valdus told us they had only three aircraft at the time one landed near Angels Station and he and his people destroyed that one. There’s the seaplane down there, so that leaves—”
“Okay, thanks for the assessment,” I said jovially. “Shall we go up front and scan for radio signals?”
“Yes, let’s.”
We entered the small control alcove at the front surrounded by a seemingly transparent fuselage as we circled above the domes in a holding pattern. Looking down from less than a thousand feet, it felt like I was flying but without the wind on my face.
I used the terminal to scan for radio signals and quickly found a lock.
“Unidentified aircraft please identify yourself,” came the nervous voice of a young-sounding woman.
“Hawaii, this is Dan Luker and Laetitia Reichs along with one prisoner on board Juno Ark shuttle SS-03. We wish to land and introduce ourselves.”
Silence reigned for a few seconds and then she spoke.
“Err, hi there… What kind of plane is that?”
“It’s a shuttle, not an airplane.”
“O-kay… Well, welcome, I guess. I’m Kim. Kim Wright, radio operator. Please, go find somewhere flat and away from buildings and people and… Well, you know, just go ahead and land.”
“Thank you, Kim. Look forward to meeting you guys soon,” I said, thrilled that at least one of the locals sounded distinctly normal, friendly even.
But that wasn’t all she sounded. Her voice sounded familiar.
“Kim, you still there?”
“Yep, here until the last boat returns.”
“By any chance, is one of your fishermen named John?”
“Sure, we’ve got John Fourier, John Burleigh and John Wong.”
“Oh, okay. Never mind.”
It didn’t matter now—just personal curiosity.
I initiated the landing sequence and Laetitia and I strapped ourselves in, passing a still morose Valdus.
In less than a minute, we touched down on the grassy area. Just one hundred and fifty feet to our southwest was the giant crater filled with white domes covering the interior just below its rim. The nearest dome extended down to the ground, sealing off the missing rim in the northeast corner of the crater. In the center, a set of sliding glass doors—no different from an airport or mall—remained open as the increasing flow of curious locals came out to greet us. At least, I thought they were there to greet—they weren’t armed and didn’t look mad at us, wearing expressions ranging from wonderment to anxiety.
“They look friendly,” I said to Laetitia.
“That is my opinion, too, Mr. Luker. But don’t worry, my third mission objective is to protect.”
I chuckled.
“Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”
The landing legs whirred into position and the shuttle landed, the thrusters soon falling silent.
I removed my body armor and helmet, stowing it in the rear, before returning up front.
“Let’s go say hi,” I said to Laetitia.
She opened the front door. Valdus looked up at me expectantly.
“Not you. We don’t want to scare them. You stay here and keep quiet.”
Using the front door would also avoid showing them the small arsenal stored at the back—not the best first impression.
Curious faces gathered around the steps and cold air hit my face as I descended them with Laetitia behind. It was on the cold side of temperate, the sky clouded in white, the wind light. Most of the locals wore basic-looking woolen sweaters. Some wore sheepskin coats, one or two fur items. They murmured between themselves, never taking their eyes off our shuttle or us for long. Likewise, I was impressed by the scale and construction of their domes and the sliding doors at the front. This simple technology—one I’d stopped noticing back in 2070 America—sent another signal that said, civilization. The people didn’t just look healthier and happier than Valdus’s wretched peasants, but the vibe they gave off felt happier too.
Laetitia stood beside me smiling, and without realizing, I was doing the same with an unstoppable grin plastered all over my face. Was this the place I’d end up calling home? Was this the place that carried the torch of human civilization? Was the Forever Wor
ld still alive here? All questions I hoped soon to answer.
I cleared my throat, surveying the crowd as they watched expectantly.
“Hello everyone, my name is Dan Luker and this is Laetitia Reichs. We were voyagers on the interstellar ship, the Juno Ark. You may have heard of it…”
2
I spoke, they listened. As I told the story, men, women and children joined the crowd. It was clear that the human love of storytelling was alive and well. By the time I got to the part about being one of two survivors—or three if you counted Laetitia—the anxious faces had largely disappeared, to be replaced by enchantment and nods. The part about Angels Station and Valdus caused some frowns and shakes of the head.
“Who knows about the mission using a light aircraft to reach Angels Station… The one that came from here with two men and disappeared?”
A lot of nods and yeahs and a few raised hands indicated most knew that two of their men had gone in search of the former Continental US and, instead, perished at the hands of Valdus. Then a woman’s voice rose from within the crowd.
“One of them was my husband, Lars,” she said.
The crowd made way for the late-middle aged woman, small with gray hair and spectacles.
“David’s wife died last year. We never knew what became of them. Do you know something?”
Hundreds of eyes bore down on me. I didn’t want this to turn into a lynch mob, but at the same time I didn’t want to lie by omission. So I told her.
“Hello, what’s your name,” I said, bending down to the woman, offering my handshake.
“Mary. My name is Mary,” she said and shook my hand lightly.
“Yes, we know what happened to Lars and David. We have the man we believe is responsible.”
Gasps and handing-covering morphed to anger at the revelation.
“Where is the bastard?” cried a bearded man from near the front.
“Yeah, show him to us!” shouted another, before the entire crowd erupted with ire.
I did a stop hand signal and raised my voice.
“Listen! Listen up!”
My shout broke through the cacophony, which died down as they awaited my words.
“We will hand him over to you, but he must be tried by your judicial system. If he is found guilty, then he should be punished. But it should be based on evidence. Those are my terms.”
I was effectively protecting the vile snake Valdus—I hardly believed it myself. But I truly believed everyone deserved as fair a trial as possible—even on a post-apocalyptic Earth.
“And who are you to dictate terms?” said the angry bearded guy. “There are three of you and thousands of us.”
You’d be surprised, I thought, as Laetitia and I exchanged glances.
“Look, we’ve extradited the suspect because it was the right thing to do. We’ve come in peace—”
The throng parted and through walked three people—a woman and two men. The Asian woman was diminutive, mid-forties with short-cropped hair. Her large eyes and warm smile radiated intelligence and affability. To her right walked a tall, slim black man, late-forties, handsome with an inquisitive half-smile. And on the left was another tall guy, but this one more stockily built, with a strong jaw and tanned skin and brown hair. He looked similar in age to the other man.
The crowd watched on quietly as the three approached, the tall black man offering his hand.
“Welcome to the State of Hawaii. I am Leon Baas, Council Leader,” he said, shaking with me then Laetitia. “This is Kale Patton, Justice and Security Councilor,” he said, turning to the well-built, white guy. I shook his hand, noticing the chunky fraternity-style ring on his right ring finger. I wondered where he’d scavenged that from. Or perhaps it was a family heirloom from before the impact or a more recent fabrication.
“Nice ring,” I said. “Where’d you get it?”
“Old design... had it made,” he said, admiring it himself.
“And finally we have Aulani Ito, Science and Technology Councilor.”
“Good to meet you all,” I said, shaking with Aulani. “I’m Dan Luker and this is Laetitia Reichs. We were colonists on board the ill-fated Juno Ark—an interstellar spaceship bound for the Aura system and launched in 2070.”
They listened politely while I repeated the same story I’d just told their citizens. For the most part, they stayed poker-faced at what were outlandish claims. Either they already knew or they had a culture which prized restraint.
“I heard you talk about our missing explorers—Lars and David. Everyone here knows everyone. We number only ten thousand across the whole island chain—most of us here at Koko,” said Baas.
“They were rightfully angry,” I said. “Perhaps we should discuss it inside the shuttle.”
Baas nodded, eyeing the shuttle warily. He asked Mary, Lars-the-explorer’s widow, if she wanted to join us. She declined. Perhaps she couldn’t bear the thought of sharing a cabin with the man accused of her husband’s murder.
“Okay,” said Baas. “Lead the way.”
We retreated to the shuttle with Baas, Aulani and Patton passing Valdus on the way to the seats near the rear. They all eyed him suspiciously as he returned their icy glares. Laetitia closed the door and joined us. I’d already noticed that she’d deactivated the outside view mode, which had rendered the fuselage as though it were transparent.
Good move, I thought. No need to distract them with technical wizardry.
The rows of passenger seats weren’t conducive for a five-way face-to-face, so we sat on armrests and leaned against seats instead.
“Was that the suspected murderer?” said Patton, the stony-faced justice chief.
“Yeah,” I said. “His name’s Valdus, former despot of Angels Station and the surrounding region. He was a brutal dictator and led a kind of personality cult—the people referred to him as the Great Marshal. He ruled by fear, using torture and summary executions at a whim. Including your guys”
“Lars and David,” said Patton.
“Yeah, right, Lars and David. Well, that was some years ago, when he was a young man.”
“But a man nevertheless.”
“Indeed. Given he’s what, early forties now and they arrived twenty years back, he was well above the age of criminal responsibility.”
“For us it’s sixteen years of age,” informed Patton.
“Fair enough,” I said.
“So what of evidence, Mr. Luker?”
“Well, both Laetitia here and myself are witnesses his confession—he’s admitted it to me on two separate occasions.”
“And you’re willing to testify in our criminal court I assume?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And do you have anything else?”
“No, just the confession. I guess we could go back and find witnesses, but it was a long time ago and we have limited shuttle fuel.”
Patton looked up thoughtfully, stroking his chin.
“Hmm… Okay, well I guess we’ve got enough to investigate him.”
He pulled out a small walkie-talkie.
“Jake, this is Patton. Send two officers to the newcomers’ shuttle please.”
He explained who Valdus was and the accusation.
“They were already outside—seems like our police officers are just as curious as everyone else.”
“I’ll go let them in, Mr. Luker,” said Laetitia.
“They’ll take him to the cells. Once we’re through, you and Laetitia can go and make a statement.”
Patton exuded a calm sense of authority. What for the Hawaiians would probably be the legal case of the century, he took in his stride.
“Sure, no problem,” I said as the two police officers arrived at the front of the shuttle.
The two powerfully built men wore dark pants, dark blue sheepskin windcheaters and beanies with Police, embroidered in white. Patton joined Laetitia at the front of the cabin while they untied and then cuffed Valdus. Patton dashed back to say his goodbyes and re
joined the two officers. The crowd outside reacted angrily as they led Valdus out, jeering and shouting at the new object of hatred.
“Sure two officers are enough?” I asked.
“They’re just venting—there won’t be violence, especially with Kale Patton there,” said Council Leader Baas.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Kale is highly respected—yes, respected, not feared. After all, they voted for him. And being a small community on a group of islands a long way from anywhere keeps people in check. Not what you’re used to if you’re from twenty-first century LA,” he said.
“And how would you know that?” I said as Laetitia rejoined us having closed the shuttle door.
“Let’s just say we know our history,” said Baas with a tight-lipped grin.
“Maybe you’d care to enlighten us,” I said, maintaining eye contact.
“I’ll leave it to Aulani—she’s our history buff. But it’s been great meeting you. I assume you’ll be staying a while, at least until we’ve wrapped up Valdus’s trial.”
“No place I’d rather be,” I said, jovially.
Considering the alternatives, I meant it.
Baas said goodbye to Laetitia and she saw him out.
“So what would you like to know?” she asked, amenably.
“You’ve heard our story—about us leaving Earth in 2070, being in stasis for over five centuries then finding a frozen Earth. What’s your story?”
“Our kids learn about the Juno Ark at school. We know how it left Earth then got recalled to pick up survivors and help in the recovery effort.”
“When did the asteroid hit?”
“June 4th, 2075, eight months after discovering it.”
“How big was it?”
“Four miles along its major axis.”
I exhaled deeply, my eyebrows raised. That was a huge. Not as big as the one that killed the dinosaurs—that was over six miles across—but still huge.
“So, why wasn’t it picked up earlier and diverted? I mean, wasn’t that what the whole space object detection and defense system was for?”
She sighed sadly as if personally affected by the impact, which I guessed she was indirectly.
Home Planet: Arcadia (Part 3) Page 1