The Stars That Beckon

by Kevin J Simington

  “It’s only for flavouring and tenderising,” said Keo, as he lifted the fish off the meat and placed it to the side. “The fat and juices from the fish penetrate the meat and tenderise it, adding flavour.”

  “Is that allowed?” asked someone else from the crowd.

  “I don’t see why not,” adjudicated Zac. “The contestants are allowed to flavour their meat with whatever additives they like.”

  “Thank you, brother,” said Keo with a big grin. He began carving the meat, but it didn’t really need carving at all; it was so tender and juicy, it simply fell apart. After another ten minutes, the line in front of Keo was twice as long as the lines in front of the others, as people voted with their feet, coming back for seconds and even thirds.

  In the end, the voting wasn’t even close. Keo’s hangi won by a landslide. Formal objections were lodged by the unsuccessful competitors, with claims of cheating through the use of unauthorised seafood, but the objections were overruled and Keo’s victory was upheld.

  Keo celebrated the victory by taking his shirt off and performing a haka—the intimidating Maori dance—much to the delight of the women present and to the amused puzzlement of the men. Following the haka, Prisha took the opportunity to once again ensure every woman knew that he was her man, by wrapping her arms around him and kissing him passionately. With the crowd’s encouragement, Keo then picked her up as if she was weightless and carried her into their tent, where they remained for some time.

  The GBC (Great Barbeque Cook-off) achieved three things for the infant settlement. Firstly, it marked the beginning of hunting and meat-eating for the colonists, thereby providing an important additional source of protein that took a lot of pressure off the DAH (Department of Aquatic Harvesting). Secondly, it provided a further bonding occasion for the colonists, deepening many relationships and strengthening their sense of communal identity. Thirdly, it provided Keo with two slaves for a week.

  52

  Nova Day 15

  The next morning, Keo put his newly acquired slaves to work building a boat. Grizzle initially complained and Martinez claimed she had duties that needed attending to, but Zac and the rest of the Council brushed their protests aside. “A deal is a deal,” was a phrase used more than once that week.

  Keo worked them hard and worked himself even harder. They started work soon after dawn each day and worked until dusk, only stopping for brief rests and snacks. For the first day or so, the occasional onlookers were amused, heckling the two losers and making a joke of it all. However, it soon became apparent that what Keo was attempting was a serious and worthwhile project. By the start of the third day, a steady trickle of volunteers began to join the team, and the workers grew to a crew of 22 people by the fifth day.

  The design of the boat changed as the construction crew grew. When there were only three of them, Keo had planned on building a simple canoe with outrigger, but as the number of workers escalated, a decision was made to upsize the boat to a full-blown catamaran. Two huge logs harvested from Red Gum Hill were painstakingly shaped for the twin hulls, using battery powered tools, recharged overnight from the engineering department’s shuttle fusion generator. The bridging deck was constructed from a bamboo-like hollow-tubed wood growing in a marshy region about 800 metres north, just behind the sand dunes, discovered by Keo when he was searching for flowers for the wedding ceremonies. The mast and boom were constructed of the same bamboo, and the sail was scavenged from one of the precious parachutes from a drop box.

  It was a huge job, and by the end of the week, even with such a large crew, they had not yet fitted the mast and boom, nor attached the rudders and steering mechanism. Keo thanked Grizzle and Martinez profusely and made them both a special dinner of fish stew on the final night, but the next day they were back at the “boat yard” at first light.

  “Your debt is paid, my friends,” said Keo. “You don’t have to be here anymore.”

  “We know that, you big dummy,” said Martinez. “We’re here because we want to be. This boat is important, not just to you, but to the whole community.”

  “Besides,” said Grizzle, “if we left you now, we’d never hear the bloody end of it.”

  Keo was deeply moved and enveloped them both in a huge bear hug, saying, “Thank you, my friends. Your hearts are true, and your spirits are light.”

  After being released, Grizzle gingerly felt his ribs, saying, “If that’s how you treat your friends, I’m glad I’m not your enemy.”

  The work progressed well, and they were greatly assisted by a volunteer who had come forward on day five of the build – a man who had worked for many years in a small luxury yacht-building yard in Lima, Peru. Vince Nemos was his name, but he quickly became known as Nemo. At 65 years of age, he had a wealth of experience, together with a classic grey seafaring beard. Under his expert guidance, the enthusiastic team successfully seated the mast, hung the boom, installed wooden rudders and fashioned a basic system of pulleys, cleats and block and tackle.

  While the heavy construction was going on, Prisha had organised a team of willing helpers, mostly women, who shaped and hemmed the sail, created eyelets for attaching to the boom and mast, and scavenged the necessary ropes from the drop box’s parachute system.

  Another team of people provided the construction crew with lunch every day, bringing a selection of cold meat and fish, fresh fruit and drinks to the beach every day.

  In the end, it took 15 days to complete the catamaran. The final ropes and cleats were added late on the last afternoon, and it was agreed that the boat would be launched the following morning. Without Keo knowing, Regina had concocted a black dye from some plant extracts, and, in recognition of Keo’s Department of Aquatic Harvesting, had painted a registration plate for the boat: DAH-001. She and Willy snuck down to the boat after dark and attached the rego plate to the rear edge of the bridging deck.

  The morning of the 16th day proffered the faintest whisper of the coming winter. Grey, scudding clouds speckled the sky, and a brisk breeze contained more than a hint of cooler temperatures to come. However, nothing could dampen the spirits of the now close-knit team of boat builders. The mysteriously appearing rego plate caused much merriment, and the culprits remained anonymous. Some fruit juice was poured over both bows, and Keo named the vessel ‘Prisha’. This, of course, would provide almost unlimited possibilities for future innuendos, such as, “Keo certainly spends a lot of time on Prisha.”

  After Keo made a brief but heartfelt speech of sincere gratitude for the large team of helpers and contributors, an enthusiastic crowd pushed the boat down the sand and onto the calm water in the southern corner of the beach, in the lee of the headland. The first crew then boarded her: Keo, Nemo, Grizzle and Martinez, the latter two having been involved in the project from the very first day. Amid much cheering, the sail was hoisted, and the boat quickly gained way, with Nemo being given the honour of being first to man the helm.

  After some initial adjustment of trim, involving Nemo yelling to the other three, “Move your fat arses back towards the stern!” it picked up speed remarkable quickly and skimmed across the slight swell, with her hulls leaving a very satisfying twin wake astern.

  The celebration that night was joyful and loud, with the easy camaraderie of friendships forged in the intensity of long days of shared hard work. Regina had perfected the art of making passion nectar, and it was later claimed that her potent brew was directly responsible for the formation of several new romances and three marriage proposals that night.

  Two days later, six couples were married in a similar ceremony on the headland. Once again, their identities remained a secret until the last moment. Much to everyone’s surprise and delight, the sixth couple to walk forward was Regina, the 48-year-old head of agriculture, and William “Willy” Grady, the 34-year-old farmer and tractor driver. When they were joyfully accosted afterwards and asked when their romance had started, they confessed that they had consumed a fair quantity of passion nectar on the b
each the night they had attached the rego plate to Keo’s boat.

  “After the second cup each, things just ... happened,” said Regina with a sly smile.

  “So, it was you two who made the rego plate!” said Keo, clearly more surprised about that than by their marriage.

  “Of course it was them!” said Prisha. “You must be the last person in the whole of Seahaven to work it out.”

  The celebration that night was shorter than the previous one. The nights were getting colder, and people retired early to the warmth of their zip-huts. Winter was on its way.

  53

  Nova Day 136

  Zac emerged from his and Jaz’s zip-hut wearing his newly made howler-skin fur jacket and gloves. He pulled the fur-lined hood over his head and raced across the frosty grass towards the “town hall” hut, leaving a trail of cloudy breath behind him like an ancient steam train. Most of the committee were already there, huddled around the wood heater that the engineering department had managed to weld together out of sections of one of the drop boxes. Keo and Prisha were the last to arrive, and as the meeting commenced, they all chose to remain standing around the heater for warmth.

  “This must be what they mean by a standing committee,” joked Regina.

  “Let’s try to keep this as brief as we can,” said Zac, moving from one foot to the other and rubbing his gloved hands together in an attempt to keep warm. “Where are we up to with the outbreak?”

  “Over 200 cases so far,” said Dr. Ben Miller. “That’s two-thirds of the population, and it’s accelerating.”

  “Have there been any more fatalities overnight?”

  “No. Still only the four from the virus. Arjan Rashish, who died three weeks ago now, was a simple heart attack and unrelated to the virus.”

  There was silence for a moment as they considered the loss of these people from their small community. A brief memorial service had been held for each of the victims, although many people had been too sick to attend. A cemetery had been established in a far corner of the park, the fresh mounds of dirt bearing witness to the tragic impact of the virus.

  “Have you made any progress with treatment?” asked Prisha.

  “None whatsoever. The virus doesn’t respond to any antiviral medicines or protocols whatsoever. It just seems to take an inevitable course, irrespective of any treatment the patient receives.”

  “So, is it a form of influenza?” asked Kit.

  “Symptomatically, it has strong similarities to the flu in its early stages, although the onset is much swifter. The initial 24 hours of runny nose, headache and sore throat are typical. It’s the next stages that have me baffled. Stage two comprises four days of extreme fever, accompanied by delirium, racing pulse and profuse sweating. Stage three occurs on day six; approximately 24 hours of completely unresponsive unconsciousness. There is no fever, no elevated pulse, nothing at all to indicate during this stage that there is anything wrong with the patient, other than the fact that they simply cannot be woken up. On day seven the patient regains consciousness, and this leads into stage five, a period of two to three days when they seem to experience extreme sensitivity to light, sound, smell, taste and touch. All five senses seem to be significantly heightened, while at the same time they seem to be emotionally and mentally withdrawn, not quite fully present, as if they are tuning in to a different frequency to the rest of us. Then, on day ten, they wake up and are completely normal— at least, they are as normal as we can ascertain. It’s still too early to gauge any long-term effects.”

  “And the deaths?” asked Zac. “What happened to those people?”

  “As far as we can tell, they all had some kind of congenital heart defect. Their hearts simply couldn’t cope with the extra strain imposed by the fever.”

  “Regina, are we any closer to identifying the pathogen?”

  “Yes and no. We’ve isolated the virus, and it appears to be something we’ve had no exposure to before. But what is more troubling is that we believe it is an adenovirus which is acting as a vector for DNA transference.”

  “You wanna drop that down a notch or two for us mere mortals, missy?” said Grizzle.

  “In simple terms, the virus is acting like a Trojan horse, carrying a new segment of DNA into our body. Once it is inside us, the virus releases that DNA to merge with our own.”

  “Holy crap!” said Kit. “We’re gonna turn into aliens!”

  “Is it dangerous to us?” asked Prisha.

  “Carla can best answer that. She and her team have been studying the DNA segment in the virus.”

  Carla Zangetti, head of the science lab, leant forward and said, “The short answer is, we have absolutely no idea what this new DNA codes for, or what it does to us. What I can tell you, based on cell samples that we have taken from patients who have now recovered from the virus, is that the new DNA manages to insert itself into chromosomes in almost every cell in the body—at least every cell that we’ve tested.”

  “Sneaky little sucker,” said Martinez.

  “Indeed,” replied Carla. “We suspect that the DNA insertion is what is taking place during the final two or three days of the infection, when the patient appears to be dazed and not quite with it. Their DNA is effectively being rewritten at a particular location in the genome, and this is occurring throughout their entire body. At this point, we have no idea what that part of the genome does.”

  “So, what can we do about it?” asked Zac.

  “Nothing whatsoever,” replied Regina. “The virus is particularly virulent. It spreads like wildfire, and I suspect that every single one of us will be infected within the next couple of weeks.”

  “The one essential thing,” said Ben, “is to ensure that there is someone uninfected or fully recovered who is able to care for those going through it. We’re going to have to pull together as a community here. If everyone in one hut comes down with the virus at the same time, someone else is going to have to go in and give them fluids and generally care for them.”

  Lance spoke up. “I’ll send the word around today, for everyone to check daily on their neighbours.”

  “Thanks, Lance,” said Zac. “Carla, do we know when we can expect winter to start easing up?”

  Carla leant forward and spoke with her usual precision. “As you know, this planet does not have an axial tilt as Earth did, so our seasons here are determined purely by our distance from the sun, with the whole planet experiencing the same season simultaneously. Our astronomy department has been analysing our orbit around Icarus, and tomorrow is the winter aphelion—our furthest point in our elliptical orbit around the sun. After tomorrow, the sun will start getting a little brighter and warmer in the sky as we draw closer to it each day.”

  “Hallelujah!” said Zac. “I’m freezing my matta off.”

  “You need to toughen up, bro,” said Keo. “This would be a mild autumn day in the South Island of New Zealand. I’ve always said you Australian boys have a soft matta.”

  Kit looked at them both with a puzzled expression and asked, “What’s a matta?”

  “Nothing,” said Zac. “What’s a matta with you?”

  Zac and Keo started howling with laughter and slapping each other on the back. Nearly everyone else was laughing with them. Zac was laughing so much that tears were rolling down his face, and Keo said to him, “I told you bro, I told you she’d walk right into that one!” They both doubled over with renewed laughter.

  Kit just shook her head and said, “Small things amuse small minds, boys.”

  “Oh, come on!” said Zac, wiping the tears from his eyes. “You’ve got to admit, that was funny!”

  Kit shook her head again but couldn’t stop a smile breaking out.

  “Is there anything else urgent to discuss?” asked Regina. “I need to get to the ag-hut.”

  “I have a question,” said Prisha. “Is there any way of improving the heating in the zip-huts? I realise we aren’t experiencing sub-zero temperatures, but those walls are pretty thin.�
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  Carla spoke up again, “The walls of the hut are a waterproof silicone-based material that contains micro layers of bioconducting, photoelectric insulation. In winter, the walls act as a heat exchanger, sucking heat from the outside air and transferring it to the inside of the hut. Obviously, the lower the outside temperature, the less heat is available to be transferred. But even with an outside temp of zero degrees Celsius, the internal walls should be transferring enough heat to raise the inside air temperature to nearly 20 degrees Celsius. To get warmer than that, you simply need to put more layers on or snuggle up in your sleeping bag. Fortunately, just about everyone has now got a howler jacket, so there should be no danger of anyone getting hypothermia.”

  Lance added, “Sorry, Prisha. This is one of the main disadvantages of not having access to Genesis. It would have provided us with air-conditioned comfort all year round.”

  “Speaking of Genesis, has anyone heard from them lately?” asked Regina. “Have they been hit by the same virus?”

  “We’ve had no contact for a few weeks,” said Lance, “so we don’t know. I’ll contact them today and find out.”

  A few minutes later the meeting concluded, and they dispersed into their daily routines. Later that morning, Lance contacted Genesis. The report he received puzzled him and caused unrest as the news spread throughout the Seahaven community.

  54

  Nova Day 172

  The last five weeks had been very difficult for the Seahaven settlement. The virus had spread throughout the community like a wildfire, eventually infecting every one of them. Two more people had died, bringing the final death toll to six. Jasmine and Melody had been infected at the same time and were only just recovering when Zac was hit. He went down hard. Jaz and Melody kept him hydrated and comfortable as much as possible, but his fever raged, and his delirium was extreme. His final three days of dazed confusion were a relief to Jaz and Melody, and also proved quite amusing. Zac had wandered around the settlement with a goofy smile on his face, making inane, occasionally bizarre comments. On one occasion, Jaz had asked him if he was hungry, to which he had replied, “I don’t know. I’ll go and ask Keo.” He then walked over to Keo’s hut and said, “Keolakupaianaha Ka’aukai, Jasmine wants to know if I am hungry.” Keo had looked at him with complete surprise. Zac had never before been able to pronounce his full name, yet now he even pronounced it with the correct inflections.