Harvest End

by Max Dane

  He noticed the time and quickly folded up the computer overlay. Activating the comm, he said, “Good afternoon everyone, may I have your attention please.” His voice, amplified across the observation platform, brought the men and women present to a standstill. Quiet fell across the deck as everyone paused to listen.

  “Good afternoon, everyone, as you know I am Dr. Janos Layton, and I have been appointed by the Science Council of Earth to direct this investigation of the Madras colony, located here in the Cetus Beta system. Below us, on the third planet of this system existed a thriving level-three colony. As we can now see, the city appears to be buried and the colonists are missing. We’ve been able to piece together, from regional port authority records and a lucky find in an incident report, that the force behind this collapse began and ended within a period of about thirty days.”

  “Our mission is twofold; first we will explore the possibility that the colonists are alive and hiding, either on this planet or in this system. For the moment, we will assume that if the colony were able to transport themselves through the local jump, they would have been found or otherwise identified by the people of New Dublin. I would like Drs. Yates and Nash to set their groups to finding the colonists. Alive or dead, we know they are in this system; find them.”

  “Second, we will study and identify the cause of this catastrophic transformation. I want Dr. Barringer to lead this group in the study. The Prime Director demands answers and we will not fail him. I anticipate a complete analysis will be quick in coming, and look forward to discussing our conclusions soon. We will meet in the morning to discuss preliminary findings. Please do not hesitate to call on me if you have questions, or need additional resources. Thank you, that will be all for now.”

  The research dome became a flurry of activity, bringing together some of the very best minds and the newest technologies. Already a multitude of antennae targeted the planet below measuring all definable characteristics of the biosphere.

  Janos took his headset off and placed it in the cradle attached to his chair. In the morning they would have their first set of data to review. Answers would become clear and the incident would be documented. For now he would wait.

  Bunda System, The Bunda Colony

  A group of men in protective fire suits gathered together near a small shuttle, marked as just arrived from the colony at Rigel. The signature on the side of their small ship read ‘New Rome - Port Authority.’ The silver hull of the ship was charred and black in places; stress lines crisscrossed it from stem to stern.

  “Their ship looks terrible.” A safety technician appeared from behind the main drive carrying a canister of flame retardant spray.

  “Yeah, they say the shuttle took three days to reach the local planetary traffic. It was found drifting by a group of company techs servicing a satellite, way out near the jump.”

  Ingram, the team leader, scanned the hull for radiation. The readout on his hand unit said it was clean. “Well, there isn’t any power, and I don’t read any movement inside. But at least there’s no radiation.” He frowned, if the inertial thrusters failed during the jump, the crew was very likely broken and mashed into every nook and cranny of the cabin. He’d seen it once before on Darius IV. A leisure yacht emerged from a jump after having some sort of electrical failure. The inertial thrusters had failed and everything inside was suddenly exposed to the gravitational forces working on the ship. When the ship was finally brought in, they had to spray it out with a hose. He sighed, ‘I’m betting it will be ugly in there.’

  He stepped up and put his hand on the hatchway, “It’s cold. Upstairs they’re calling it engine failure. We need to get in there and find out if they’re right.” He stepped back and returned his tools to his belt. “Okay, let’s open the hatch. You all know the drill.” The crew formed up in pairs.

  “Our priority is the safety of this team, the port facility and any surviving crew still aboard. We don’t know what condition the interior might be in, so let’s take our time and play it safe. Rusk and Jenning, you’re first. Cut the hatch-lock and the rest of us will stand ready to assist.”

  The two men walked to the hatch and pressed a cutting laser against the edge.

  Ingram, keeping his voice cool and smooth said, “Let’s do it now, by the numbers.”

  Moving slowly and deliberately down the side, Rusk and Jenning cut through between the door and the bulkhead. Minutes later, they disengaged the laser and stepped back. The next two men stepped up and attached a magnetic grapple to the door. After stepping back, a mechanical pulley system pulled the hatch free and set it down next to the ship.

  Ingram stepped forward lowering his breathing filter and pointed a light into the dark interior. He saw three piles of clothes, but no passengers. Everything looked dead.

  He stepped back and turned to the group. “Les, didn’t you say that there were people in there?”

  “Yes, that’s what the Port Authority put in their report. They said that when the shuttle was picked up, there were survivors. Apparently, they wanted to talk to someone about some sort of emergency.”

  Ingram sighed and stepped back towards the open hatch. “Well, it must be some kind of mistake because there’s no one in there now.” Carefully, he stepped inside and reached under the main pilot’s console. Finding the maintenance panel, he pulled it open and got a firm grip on the data card inside. Pulling it free, he stepped out and said, “Maybe the ship’s log will help, here see if you can get anything off of this.”

  Les took the card and held it up to the light. It was covered with sand. He shook it and wiped his sleeve across the surface. The chips and solder points smeared away leaving a powdery film. “I’m sorry, Ingram, but we aren’t going to be getting anything from this; look it’s corroded or something.”

  “That’s strange,” he said taking it and shaking the sand off. There’s more of that same sand around the cabin. I wonder where they picked it up; there’s not a white sandy beach anywhere on Rigel.”

  “Ingram, there’s no crew and no ship’s log to review,” said Les, “What do you want to do with it?”

  He stepped back to the hatch and tossed the ruined data card into an open chair. “Well, until the Port Authority and the Security Office has signed off on it, I guess we have to store it.”

  Ingram walked over to a nearby tool cart and placed his rad-counter on top. He set his helmet and breather down and pushed his hair back. “Please take the shuttle and the hatch cover to the storage bays under the Port Authority tower- section twenty three or twenty four, I think. We’ll lock it up and store it as is until they say we can prep it for disposal.”

  “Yes, sir, Ingram. Okay guys, you heard him, let’s get some skids under that thing.”

  Ingram walked away, headed to his office back in the main tower. There would be paperwork and follow-up questions about the crew. He sighed and unzipped his protective suit as he walked to the hanger’s safety cabinets. Leaving the one-piece jumper in his locker, he put his cap on and walked to the tower entrance, leaving sandy footprints along the way.

  Cetus Beta, The Madras Colony

  Dr. Layton was already in the Ship Director’s primary conference room, when the others began to arrive. Eager to hear their reports, he barely slept last night. This assignment could well prove to be the achievement that propels him into a place on the Science Council’s Assembly of System Directors. It could be the advancement that would buy resources, labs, and equipment to further his own studies as well as give him some breathing room to slow down a little. Maybe he’d finally get married, buy a home someplace nice. The colony on Europa was upgraded last year to a level six status. With their excellent schools and colleges, he could probably stay there until he retired.

  Smiling, he sipped his coffee and nodded to Dr. Barringer as he entered.

  “Good Morning, Carter.”

  Barringer sat down across the table carrying a data tablet. “Good morning, Director Layton; am I the last to arrive?”r />
  “No, we’re still waiting on- ”

  Dr. Julian Yates came bursting through the door moving much too fast, and bumped one of the food servers. Fruit was spilled, and oranges rolled across the conference room floor.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said apologetically, as he dropped his notebook trying to help pick up the wayward fruit.

  “Julian, please come have a seat, the support staff will take care of that.”

  Dr. Yates whispered to another server, “I’m really very sorry, really.”

  “Julian, please.”

  “Yes, Dr. Layton, of course.” He sat down next to Dr. Shea Nash, his long time colleague and friend. She smiled and ignored the mishap. “Good morning, Julian, I’m glad you could make it.”

  He shrugged and said under his breath, “I forgot our list of requests and had to run back to get it.”

  Dr. Layton waited until the food servers finished picking up the fruit spill and left the room. “Very well then, let’s proceed shall we?”

  He activated his own data tablet and said, “Dr. Janos Layton here with Drs. Barringer, Nash, and Yates. Let the record show that this is the first meeting in the investigation of the Madras Colony. For the sake of convenience, I propose that we refer to the stimulus causing the collapse of the colony, as simply ‘the event’. When we know more, we can update our descriptor. Dr. Barringer, I think we would all like to hear your preliminary review.”

  “Very good, Director.”

  He quickly pressed a button on the datatab, and the lights in the room dimmed. Pressing a few more, the wall display at the head of the table activated showing a top down image of the colony now, side-by-side with a similar picture taken from orbit nearly a year ago.

  “The image on the right is how the colony appeared prior to the event. And the one on the left is, of course, how it appears now. We can see that the buildings have been reduced to sand, or something very much like it.”

  “So, Dr. Barringer, the buildings are not buried?”

  “No, we adjusted the imaging until the proportions to the original were identical. Then we measured the distance to the ground and correlated the width and height of the structures in the original picture. Measuring the distance today from our position to the tops of the dunes reveals a documented disparity. My conclusion is that the buildings were converted to the sand we see covering the colony.”

  “What about the vehicles, power lines, and the dish antennae, shouldn’t they be poking through in places?” Shea said, “I can’t see anything.”

  “And what about the people?” asked Julian.

  Barringer leaned back in his chair, studying the image as well, “These are good questions. Please note how nothing seems to stand higher than the sand dunes. It may very well follow that the sand we see down there is particulate matter making up the totality of the colony mass.”

  “But, Dr. Barringer,” said Julian, “some of those structures were fabricated from materials we designed. The Port Authority tower is a perfect example; it should have been able to withstand hurricane winds and military bombardment. Maybe some small degradation might be expected, but no known weapon could change its composition that drastically.”

  “I agree.”

  “Well there has to be an answer down there.”

  “Yes, and that’s why I want to send a team down, full protection, complete environmental separation and a limited action window.”

  Layton expected this request. There was only so much one could learn from orbit. “Have you scanned for radiation?”

  “Yes, Director, radiation as well as any remnants of biological warfare. So far we have found nothing, it all appears to be sterile down there.”

  Layton nodded, “Permission granted, Carter, please proceed as soon as the arrangements are in order.”

  “Very good, I will send a team of three with an automated escort. Hopefully we can learn more by taking soundings at the colony ground line. I also want to get samples of the sandy substance up here for analysis.”

  Julian was still studying the images of the colony on the screen. Raising his hand, he said, “Excuse me, Dr. Barringer, but have you noticed the plant life surrounding the colony?”

  “Yes, of course, it’s called jump weed. It appears to be quite thick. Perhaps it was immune to the effects of the event.”

  “Yes, but what I meant,” said Julian, “is that it has not encroached into the sand. The edges of the colony footprint are quite well defined even though weeks have passed.”

  “Yes, I see that,” said Barringer growing annoyed. ”What is your point exactly, Dr. Yates?”

  “My point is that the jump weed should be sprouting up around the edges. The colonists described it as pernicious and treated it as an ongoing irritant. Their records stored at the Board back home described the plant as able to cross almost any barrier, in its natural drive to reproduce. So why then isn’t it moving into the sand?”

  They all turned back to the image of the colony down below. Julian was right. The most aggressive plant on the planet surrounded the colony forming a perfect ring. But not a single sprout appeared inside.

  “Yes, that’s curious,” said Dr. Layton, “Carter, Julian makes a good observation. It will be interesting to see why the local plant life seems to have survived the event at the colony. And also why it doesn’t seem to want to spread there now.” Layton saved his notes in his data tablet, and turned to Julian and Shea. “And now we turn to the second part of our investigation, the search for the colonists. Drs. Yates and Nash, what have you found?”

  Shea sat up, “Well, let us suppose that the colonists were taken unaware by the event. In this case, their remains will be found randomly distributed across the colony footprint.”

  Julian added, “If true, Dr. Barringer will no doubt find them in his investigation at ground zero.”

  She nodded and continued, “However, if we imagine that they knew the event was coming, it would be logical for them to try to avoid it. The most likely options for preservation include migration underground, migration to a safe location or locations elsewhere on the planet, and lastly migration to some point in space.”

  Layton pointed at the screen, “Have you checked for underground tunnels, or maybe natural cave formations?”

  “Yes, we have,” said Julian, “Our preliminary finds indicate nothing below the surface in the area of the colony. However, we’d like to request permission to send several roving probes down to the surface. Although unlikely, it may be possible that something might be shielded or disguised down there. Some simple echolocation scans of the strata from the surface should clear that up.”

  Layton nodded and added their request to his notes.

  “Yes, permission granted.”

  Shea continued, “So if the colonists left for some other part of the planet, we should be able to find them by scanning for power sources, independent light sources, sound, and debris. A colony this size won’t simply vanish; they will leave refuse and personal effects in their wake. Signs of their movement, coupled with evidence of mechanical support should help us pinpoint their location.”

  “I assume you want to send planetary flyers to look for these telltale signs?”

  “Yes, Director, we would like to request the full inventory of one hundred probes to be programmed and sent immediately.”

  “Permission granted,” said Layton adding them to his list.

  “And lastly,” said Julian, “we must rule out the possibility that they left the planet altogether.”

  Barringer said, “My records from the colony accounts, do not indicate any ship or collection of local vessels capable of moving that many people, and certainly not through the jump.”

  “Agreed, Doctor, but we must consider the possibility that only a few were chosen to escape, perhaps certain families, or a few figures with the colony’s children. They could be hiding or crashed on the planets and moons of this system.”

  “Or they could have taken the small s
hip and made the jump to the next colony, New Dublin,” Layton said.

  “True, but since there is no record from New Dublin of finding such a ship, the greatest likelihood remains that our hypothetical ship is still to be found somewhere in this system.”

  “How do you propose we search the system, Julian?”

  “Shea and I flipped a coin to see who got to stay,” he said, “unfortunately I lost. So I suggest I join the crew of the Ajax and together we run a sweep of the whole Cetus Beta system.”

  Layton winced; he didn’t like the idea of involving Captain Holt’s ship any more than absolutely necessary. The military would treat this as their jurisdiction, and then everything would slow to a crawl.

  “Could some of the probes be used to search the system?”

  Julian thought about it and turned to Shea who was shaking her head. “No, they would not be a useful tool for this purpose. Their limited programming and durability make them too fragile and slow.”