Colonization

by Scott McElhaney

  “I found it,” he said.

  “I can see a sliver of light now,” his echoing voice rose.

  “I’m going to tie off a rope up here and lower it down. Do you think you’re alright to climb it or do you need me to come down and help?” Dad asked.

  “Actually, can you tie a flashlight to the end? I want to have a look around real quick before coming up,” he hollered.

  “Really, Thatcher?” his mother hollered into the dark crevice.

  “I’m down here anyway and I’m already soaked,” he hollered back.

  My father shrugged at her when she glanced over at him. He was already tying the rope to the base of one of the sturdier looking trees. Since none of the vegetation in the lakebed was more than about five or six years old, we didn’t have any trees with trunks wider than about six inches. We were going to have to hope that the tree my father chose had secure enough roots.

  My father did indeed tie a flashlight to the other end of the rope. He also turned it on so that Thatcher would see it even as it was lowered down. He then knelt near the crevice and passed the flashlight through, lowering the rope slowly afterward.

  “I see it!” Thatcher hollered.

  “What’s it like down there?” I asked, unable to hide my curiosity since he seemed to be alright.

  “Got it,” I heard him say, “Well, the floor of the cave is completely covered in about two feet of ice cold water. I imagine that used to be some of the lake water from up there or I guess it could just be some rain runoff. It’s huge though – the cave. I can stand up fully and… weird… whoa… no way!”

  “What’s going on, Thatch?” his mother hollered, kneeling next to the crevice now.

  We could hear the sounds of him moving around through the water.

  “Don’t go wandering off down there,” my father hollered, “There could be other unseen holes and pits that you don’t need to be falling through.”

  “It’s a graveyard down here,” he hollered back, “There are several skeletons… black bones… humanoid.”

  “Are you kidding?” my father hollered, “Human or humanoid?”

  “Uh… humanoid. You seriously might want to come down here.”

  Chapter Four

  I waited until I saw my father disappear down the hole before I told Sarai that I was going down as well. She argued of course, just as I knew she would. My dad also would have, but I was adamant. She looked like she momentarily considered physically stopping me, and my father would have approved if she had, but I think I’d have fought her. I wanted to be a part of this.

  Once I heard my father splash down, I took hold of the rope and started down, getting my clothing muddy in the process. I could hear my father release an expletive the moment he saw that it was me.

  “I tried to stop her,” I heard Sarai’s voice from up above.

  “Yeah, she’s just like her mother,” my father replied.

  “And her father,” Sarai added, perhaps to lighten the mood.

  I felt him take hold of my feet, steadying me as I climbed down the rope. He clamped onto my legs when I was lower and told me to release the rope. Then he gently set me down in the freezing cold water.

  “Dang, this is colder than the lake ever was!” I hollered, hearing my voice echo off the walls.

  I could now see that Thatcher was several yards away from us and the beam of his light was moving back and forth across the water. My father took my hand and then aimed his light at the water in front of us, heading toward Thatcher now.

  “Do you think that this is where the lake drained?” I asked.

  “I doubt it. This was probably completely filled with the glacier water the same as the lake,” Dad replied.

  “If you look to your right back there, you’ll see the first skeleton I saw,” Thatcher hollered back to us.

  Dad aimed his light into the water just to the right of us. Then as he moved the light beam further toward the cavern wall, I saw the black ribcage protruding from the water. It looked very similar to a human ribcage, but that was when the beam landed on the skull which rested on small shelf of rock behind it. The skull was by no means human. I didn’t mean to scream, but I had momentarily thought the angry skull was looking at me for some reason. The skull had a strong jutting brow that came forward and angled downward further toward the center than along the sides. This caused the sunken oval eye sockets to have the angled-down appearance of an angry creature. Where the nasal cavity should have been on a human, there were only two long slits shaped like an upside down “V” that extended out beneath the human-like cheekbones. The teeth had also initially frightened me. They were all pointy, thin, and unlike the rest of the skull, these were white.

  “I think you might be wrong about the humanoid part,” my father hollered, aiming the flashlight beam down into the water beneath the ribcage.

  There beneath the ribcage, beneath the ordinary spinal vertebrae was an ongoing lengthy spine with thin sharp bones that extended outward from each vertebrae. This continued on where the legs should have been and with each vertebrae, the thin bones that branched out grew shorter and shorter until ending suddenly. I imagined a serpentine body based on the bones

  “Yeah, I caught that after I’d said it,” Thatcher hollered back, “But it did have arms and hands. I found a partially imbedded fossil down here in the rock, and you can see that it used to have some thin bones fanning out from the end of the tail just like a fish tail. Those tiny bones would have been very thin and washed away however from the rest of these skeletons I suppose.”

  “Fish?” I could envision it now by the shape of the lower body.

  “More like mermaids or mermen,” Thatcher called over.

  “Hence the lack of a normal nasal cavity,” Dad muttered, still looking down at the body, “Maybe it had gills above the mouth.”

  “You mean to tell me that these deadly beasts were swimming around in this lake?” I gasped, “The lake that we so bravely swam in?”

  “No,” Dad laughed, aiming it at a jawless skull beneath the water, “First of all, this lake only existed temporarily because of the receding glaciers. It probably wasn’t a lake before the small ice age and it isn’t one now.”

  “And second of all, the bones are black,” Thatcher hollered, “From minerals getting into the ancient bones. These bones are fossilized, so they’re severely old.”

  “How’d you learn about that, Thatch?” my father asked, “That was seriously what I was about to say.”

  His flashlight lit up another ribcage, mostly submerged in the water. I could now see that a lot of what I’d assumed were rocks on the floor of the cave were random small bones and vertebrae.

  “He learned that on my tablet. I still have a thousand dinosaur images he saved back during the Thatcher Dino-years,” I offered, remembering his fascination from back when we were kids, “That’s all he used my tablet for back when we were little.”

  “Yeah, a lot of the dinosaur bones would turn black or dark brown from all the minerals that would get into them,” Thatcher agreed.

  We started toward Thatcher where he was still investigating further into the cave.

  “But if these bones belonged to mermaids, then there had to be a lake here,” I argued.

  “We’re talking like a thousand years ago, Henley,” Dad said, “Maybe ten thousand years. Or even a million.”

  “Yeah, I’d say closer to a million than to ten thousand,” Thatcher said, “This could have all been under an ocean for all we know.”

  “But would the skeletons just sit here like that for all that time?” I asked.

  “Until we came along, I doubt there would have been any significant-sized creatures to disturb them,” Dad replied, “And besides, the cave had probably been buried for thousands of years until the weight of the glacier lake forced its way in.”

  We caught up to Thatcher who was now standing on a dry portion of the tunnel. The floor had slowly risen, exposing a few more skeletons along the
way. Thatcher aimed his beam at one of the partially rock-imbedded skeletons that still showed the thin bones of the tail.

  “What if these creatures still exist in the oceans?” I asked.

  Thatcher turned to me and smiled, “I’m sure we’d have seen some evidence by now, especially if they were as deadly as the teeth seem to suggest. Although, you never know.”

  “We’re talking about a creature that existed a million years ago,” Dad argued, “How many creatures from a million years ago are still on Earth?”

  “A lot actually,” Thatcher argued, “Turtles, alligators, sharks, snakes, birds, and best of all, humans.”

  “No, those aren’t the same,” he argued.

  “Exactly – they exist, but they aren’t the same as what we saw in their ancestors,” Thatcher said, “Just the same as if these creatures still exist, they may not be exactly the same. And let’s not forget that these skeletons show that they are humanoid in some ways including the existence of arms, hands, and fingers. If they still existed, we’d be talking about discovering humanoid life.”

  My father looked stunned. He merely gazed at Thatcher with a subtle smile on his face. I suddenly remembered what he had told his friend Doctor Nguyen. This was exactly what my father had always wanted. He wanted to explore new worlds. He wanted to explore the ocean of Europa. He wanted the life of Doctor Nguyen and it now seemed that he already went beyond that with Thatcher’s discovery of ancient life.

  “We need to get some scientists down here,” he said, “We’ve got to find someone qualified for something as amazing as this.”

  Thatcher Stark

  Chapter Five

  “I think we should contact the people of Murphy-Stark and New Sumter to see if we have some anthropologists or paleontologists here among us,” Darius McEwen stated.

  After we returned home and changed clothes, many of the elders as well as those of the second generation gathered into the community center. Word spread quickly of our discovery, so even while we were getting dressed, we found that some of the recent immigrants also came to hear more about the ancient fossils we’d discovered.

  “We have a very highly acclaimed university over in northern New Sumter where I’m sure someone there could offer some insight,” one of the older immigrant farmers stated.

  I knew this man only as Mister Chang. He was one of those who’d lost his job in New Sumter and had no family to take care of him in his advanced years. So he chose to join us where we would certainly take care of him and he could find something light to do to keep busy.

  “Good idea,” Rigel wrote something down on a paper tablet, “If you could get me a name for that university, that would be great. I’d also like to try to locate a company or perhaps a person with access to perform some underwater research. This is one of those times that I sort of wish I had Doctor Nguyen’s submarine.”

  “I don’t know of anything like that in New Sumter,” Mr. Chang replied, “Although, again the university may have further information you might need regarding that as well. I can’t recall the name of the school right now, but I’m sure it’ll come to me.”

  “I’d like to volunteer to go over there,” John Wolfe inserted.

  “Actually, I’ll probably be the one to go over there, John,” Rigel stated, “But thank you for offering. We have to be exceptionally careful with something like this and I’d like to make certain that our people would be involved in whatever research they could conduct for us in this matter. This could turn into a political or territorial situation in no time at all.”

  “I know, but…” John started, and then looked around the whole room curiously, “I don’t want…”

  “John, if you honestly want to come with me, I’m sure we can work something out,” Rigel conceded, “There’s no reason it has to just be only one of us going.”

  John was still looking around the room, seemingly uncomfortable all of a sudden. His current state of fidgeting was really out of character for him. No one else seemed to be aware of his odd demeanor, so I figured I’d say something.

  “What’s going on, John?” I asked.

  He turned to me and held my gaze for a moment. This was a man that was old enough to be my father, yet he looked like a worried child as he stared over at me. This was a man who had safely landed one of the two shuttles on KMA back in the beginning of our colony.

  “I think we need to talk,” he finally said, “But I’d prefer just the company of the elders if that would be alright.”

  I didn’t know what he meant by elders, but I certainly wasn’t going to allow some private plans to be made regarding my discovery without my being in the midst. Typically when someone referred to the elders, they were talking about the leadership committee which consisted of my parents, Henley’s parents, the McEwens, and Leah Paulus.

  “I discovered that cave and all its contents,” I spoke a bit too abruptly.

  Henley sidled up next to me, probably thinking the same thing I was. We wanted to be a part of this, whatever “this” was. John nodded and then turned to my mother.

  “Can we do this over at my house?” he asked.

  My mother turned to Rigel and nodded her agreement. My father shrugged and then motioned for me to follow as he headed for the door. I took Henley’s hand in mine.

  Chapter Six

  We found John standing next to his fireplace, examining one of his framed fishing photos on the mantle when we walked in. My parents sat down on his sofa near the fireplace. Leah sat down in an overstuffed chair next to the small bookshelf while Darius and Kennedy sat on the padded arms of that chair. Henley’s parents just leaned against the wall to the left of me and Henley.

  Whatever was going on here, this was exceptionally out of character for John. He usually seemed to have it all together. This was a man who spent nearly every day of his life going out before Tau Ceti rose, lugging his poles and fishing tackle with him to the fishing boat. When the Navy was cleared out of KMA, they’d left behind a large cabin cruiser that John had immediately claimed as the village’s fishing boat. This soon became a second home to John as he enjoyed fishing more than any other sport in the world. He was pretty good at it too, evidenced by the framed photos of his larger catches on the mantle. Sometimes his fishing trips would take multiple days before he returned with a boatload of tasty seafood. He often brought us three or four varieties of fish, guaranteeing our village more than two hearty seafood feasts every single week.

  Now, the man who seemed to have it all together looked like he was about to fall apart. He appeared to be almost sick and perhaps even a little afraid. I didn’t like this at all. The only thing that came to mind was that he was indeed sick – terminally so.

  “I don’t think it would be wise to involve New Sumter or Murphy-Stark in regards to that discovery,” John finally spoke, “And in case our immigrant population still has any contact with those people across the ocean, I think they shouldn’t be involved in this as well.”

  “Those immigrants are no different than us, John. There will be no discrimination among our people and anyone who works our fields, eats our food, and lives among us are part of the family that we call Valhalla,” my mother said in her most politically correct tone, “Let’s not forget that we immigrated here as well – from Earth.”

  “Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying it like that,” John said, crossing his arms and then looking around the room, “I’m… I’m saying this in the interest of peace… in the interest of… You know what? Can I just tell you a story?”

  “What’s going on, John?” Leah asked, both looking and sounding a little impatient at the moment.

  “There’s no other way for me to explain this without me first telling you a story of what happened to me fifteen years ago,” John said with a sigh, “So let me just begin with the boat.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was fifteen years ago, about three years after we closed the wormhole to the solar system. I don’t remember the d
ate, but it was during one of our warmer months and shortly after a shadow period. Tau Ceti was finally locating patches in our darkened sky with which to shoot out some pleasant beams down onto the ocean. This had been going on for nearly six months and we’d even started recording a steady increase in the overall temperatures. And on this particular day, I remember that it was sixty-two degrees and breezy – probably the warmest it had ever been so far.

  I’d been out at sea for probably six hours so far and I wasn’t having much luck. I’d caught only four fish which I’d previously dubbed moongill because they reminded me a little of the bluegill from Earth. You’d never seen those before because I always ended up using those as baitfish to lure in the moon-bass or the elusive moon-marlin. Yeah, the man who named all of our fish here on KMA, me, wasn’t really all that creative. Nevertheless, I wasn’t prepared to call it a day just yet, especially since I hadn’t been so lucky in recent days.

  I had no idea that there was an actual reason for the lack of fish in the area. I had yet to give a name to the largest fish on KMA which would put the whales of Earth to shame. It was this unnamed new species I’d since titled ‘moon-whale’ that inadvertently destroyed the boat.

  “Destroyed the boat?” my father interrupted, “You said this was all taking place fifteen years ago and yet I went out fishing on that boat just last month.”

  “Yeah, that’s just one of the reasons why I needed to tell you about the Keplerians,” he said.

  “Kep…” my mother started to repeat that odd word and then physically turned to him, “I think it’s about time you get straight to whatever it is you have to tell us, John.”