Final Days: Colony

by Jasper T. Scott

  The offender’s arms swooped up protectively, and Andrew hurried over, looking confused about who he should be helping. Kendra didn’t hesitate. She stepped in front of the angry man and set her hand on his heaving chest.

  “Outta my way, lady. This doesn’t involve you!” he said, his eyes wide with rage.

  “Calm yourself, sir. This involves each of us,” she said as evenly as she could.

  The other man was holding his chin, glancing around Andrew. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, surprising Kendra. She’d expected a longer altercation. The younger man dropped his fists, deflated. “I didn’t mean to hit you, Cody. This is all… too much,” he said.

  Cody stuck his hand out: a peace offering. “I deserved it.”

  Guards rushed into the room, and Kendra peered over to the bulkheads, noticing the red lights blinking from cameras. There was likely far more surveillance, perhaps even listening devices. They were going to have to be cautious.

  “You two. Over here!” the guards ordered, and the men started forward, heads dropped low.

  Kendra stood between them, lifting a finger to the guards. “These two have made up. There’s no need for repercussions.”

  The two guards were armed at the hips, and Kendra spotted the Tasers on the opposite side of their belts. The female frowned, moving to escort Kendra to one side.

  She stood firm. “They understand that what they did wasn’t permitted, and have shaken on it. Right, gentlemen?”

  Cody nodded, and the other man spoke up. “We’re a little agitated. It’s a lot to take in.”

  “So instead of rushing in here to punish these men, maybe you can let them speak with someone. Do you have a therapist in the crew?” Kendra asked, confident she was getting somewhere.

  The guards weren’t prepared for this discussion, and the woman glanced to her partner, who shrugged. “I think we do,” he said in reply.

  “Would you mind seeing if someone could speak with…” Kendra stopped nudging the man who’d thrown the punch. “What’s your name?”

  “Dennis. Dennis Casher.”

  “Sure thing, ma’am,” the male guard told Kendra with deference.

  The guards turned on their heels, peered around the room, and exited, leaving the mess hall.

  Kendra sighed, and Dennis slumped into his seat. She noticed the rest of the room watching, and hoped it would make calm heads prevail. The guards were observing their every move, and these people all knew it.

  “Thank you,” Cody said, his gaze lingering on the floor.

  “You’re welcome. We’re in this together,” she whispered, and turned her back to the table, grabbing Andrew and dragging him away.

  “You handled that well,” Andrew told her.

  “I hope so. I’ve seen their type a million times.” Kendra didn’t elaborate. She didn’t tell Andrew that soldiers always responded better to orders than to demands or confrontation. He might take offense.

  On that tense note, people began filing from the mess hall, heading toward their daily duties. Even though they’d only just learned they were on a spaceship heading for a distant planet, chores still needed doing.

  One by one, her friends exited the room, Kendra glancing at the mounted cameras as they passed through the door. No matter where you were, Big Brother was watching you.

  FOUR

  Lewis Hound

  Lewis Hound sat behind a big, brushed aluminum desk in his quarters aboard Eden, thinking about the passengers’ and crew’s reactions to his announcement. There had been unrest, of course, a few squabbles and lots of raised voices, but ultimately none of that mattered. Keeping them in the dark until now had been the safest way to execute the mission protocol. Leaning back in his chair, Lewis gazed into the dome-shaped viewscreen that formed the ceiling of his quarters. The stars shone bright, the planets brighter still. Their destination was all but invisible, a faint speck dead-center on the display.

  A knock sounded at the door, dragging Lewis’s gaze from the screen. He touched a button on his desk, and a familiar man materialized on the monitor in front of him, standing in front of the camera out in the corridor. It was his number two, Eric Keller.

  “Do you need something, Mr. Keller?” Lewis asked.

  The man’s dark eyes flicked up to the camera above the door, and Eric absently scratched his cheek through his beard. “Yes, sir. Could we speak in private for a moment?”

  Lewis debated whether or not to grant the request. Eric was too nosy for his own good, but he was a necessary evil—Lewis couldn’t always make himself available to deal with people. He was a busy man, after all, and about to become much busier after they arrived at their destination.

  “Of course.” Lewis made a gesture to the door, and it slid open. He waved to Eric. “Come in.”

  The man stepped inside, and Lewis waved the door shut behind him. After a brief moment of hesitation, Eric strode quickly up to Lewis’s desk. “They want answers, Lewis.”

  Lewis smiled coldly and folded his hands on the desk. “Do they?”

  Eric’s head bobbed. “I’ve overheard at least a dozen different conversations from passengers and crew alike. They’re restless. Suspicious. Most of them don’t even believe we’re headed for Proxima. They don’t think it’s possible for us to reach it.” His dark eyes were gleaming with cunning. He probably thought he was being subtle by shifting his own need for answers onto everyone else. “I suggest we conduct a tour of the cryo facilities to demonstrate the technology you’re going to use to get us to Proxima. That will help to assuage any concerns people might have over the safety of cryo.”

  “A tour of the cryo decks?” Lewis echoed. “Is that all?”

  “We might also conduct a tour of the reactor and engine levels. Explain how the ship is powered, and how it can sustain thrust over prolonged periods without running out of fuel.”

  Lewis began nodding agreeably. “We could make a day of it. Touring the facilities. Explaining the ins and outs of everything.”

  Eric’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! It would go a long way toward easing suspicions and persuading people to focus on the real issue: the survival of the species.”

  “While we’re at it, we could hold an election for a new leader,” Lewis suggested.

  A frown creased Eric’s brow. “Well...”

  Lewis went on, “I could step down and hand over my life’s work to the first dribbling idiot who comes along.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting—”

  “But you were. You want people to understand how it all works, but that’s proprietary. There are good reasons I don’t share what I know with everyone. Knowledge is power. If I share the former, I’ll have to share the latter, and we’re not there yet. We need a strong leader with a clear vision, not a bloated and blundering government. There will be a time and a place for that, but it isn’t here or now. If I decide to allow civilian tours of the ship, explanations won’t be a part of that. I saved their lives, and for the moment, their gratitude will have to be enough to keep them in line.”

  A muscle in Eric’s cheek twitched. “Yes, sir.”

  “Is that all?” Lewis asked.

  A nod.

  “Good. Dismissed.”

  Lewis watched as his second-in-command turned and stormed out of his quarters. He waved the door open and shut for Eric, and then leaned back in his chair. He sat with the silence for a moment, his hands steepled under his chin, contemplating.

  With his security clearance, Eric had access to the whole ship, so he didn’t need the excuse of a public tour in order to view the cryo decks or engine rooms. He’d already seen it all a hundred times. What he was really after was a guided tour, and the explanations that would hopefully entail, but Lewis had been too careful to get sloppy now. Each of the crew was provided enough about how Eden worked to be able to keep it running. The technology remained a mystery to them: the reactor, the cryo tubes, even the alloys and radiation shielding in the hull. Anyone who learne
d too much was a liability, a loose end, and Lewis hated loose ends. Sooner or later they had to be tied, and it was always such a messy business.

  * * *

  Val

  Val shuffled into line with the others busy filing out of the mess hall. As they exited, people dropped their dirty meal trays and utensils in a large wheeled plastic bin beside the exit.

  As her dad reached the bin, he dropped his tray in with a crash, and placed his utensils in a separate compartment. Val grimaced as she peered into the foul-smelling bin, wondering whose job it would be to clean all of those dishes.

  “Hurry up, Val,” her dad urged from the other side of the exit. “Shower time.” He stepped out of the flow of people leaving the mess hall, and waved for her to join him.

  She dropped her tray and utensils in the bin, as her dad had done, and started to leave. One of the guards standing by the exit stopped her with an upraised hand, and shook his head. “You, and you.” He jerked his head to someone standing right behind her.

  She turned to see that it was Tony. He was pointing a finger at himself, his eyebrows raised. “Me?”

  “Yeah, you and her are on KP today.”

  “KP?” Val asked.

  The guard smiled. “Kitchen patrol. You’re gonna clean the dishes.”

  Val balked at that. “Alone?”

  The guard’s smile broadened into a grin. “Not alone. You have each other for company.”

  Val peered into the bin again. “Only two people for this mess? That’s going to take all day!”

  The guard snorted. “Better not. You have four hours before lunch starts, and then you’re gonna have to do it all over again.”

  “Shit,” Val muttered.

  “Hey,” her dad snapped. “Language.”

  He cut across the river of people leaving the mess hall and tapped the guard on the shoulder. The man spun around, his hand on his gun.

  “Whoa, easy there, cowboy!” Andrew said, his hands flying up in mock surrender.

  Val frowned at the overreaction. Weren’t they all on the same side?

  “She’s right,” her father went on. “This is too much work for two people. I’ll help them.”

  “No, you won’t. I have my orders. I was told to pick two of the older kids for KP, not two kids and a chaperone. Besides, you’ll be given some other assignment.”

  “Like what?”

  The guard shrugged. “Take it up with the HR director, Rachel Hanson. She’ll find something for you to do.”

  “And where do I find her?”

  “Admin level. Deck ninety-five. Now get moving. You’re holding up the line.”

  “Fine.” Her dad turned to leave, glaring at Tony as he did so. “Watch yourself around my daughter, kid.”

  Val matched her dad’s tone and expression. “I can watch myself, thanks.”

  Her dad joined the line exiting the mess and quickly disappeared. Val grabbed Tony’s arm to pull him out of the way, and waited for all of the dirty dishes to be deposited in the bin.

  A few inconsiderate people dropped their trays and utensils into the same pile without bothering to separate them. Fishing those knives and forks out later was going to be difficult.

  “Hey!” Val complained as it happened for the umpteenth time. The offender was a blue suit, his eyes glued to a tablet that he had balanced on one arm. He looked up at the sound of Val’s voice and stared blankly at her.

  “Your dishes. Utensils go here.” Val slapped the compartment, rattling the contents.

  “Oh, right. Sorry. I was so absorbed in my work, I guess I just forgot.” The man went back to his tablet and scurried out with the others.

  Val withdrew with a sigh to lean against the wall beside the bin. Tony joined her, waiting for the last of the people to leave. She crossed her arms over her chest and passed the time by impatiently tapping her foot.

  “Are you okay?” Tony asked, peering at her through a veil of long hair hanging over one side of his face.

  “Yeah. I guess.” She blew out a breath. “I really hate doing dishes.”

  “Oh yeah. Me too,” Tony replied. “My mom always did them. Never asked us to help out. I guess we should have offered, though, huh?”

  Val winced at the reminder of the people they’d left behind. She and her mom used to do the dishes together.

  “All right, that’s the last of ‘em,” the guard by the door said. “If I were you, I’d get busy cleaning.”

  “Where?” Tony asked.

  The guard inclined his head, nodding toward a door on the far end of the hall that appeared to lead behind the serving counter. “Roll it over there and you’ll figure it out.”

  Tony grabbed the bin and put his back into it. “Jeez! This is heavy.”

  Val smiled. “Jeez?”

  Tony began rolling it, and Val grabbed the front end to help him guide the bin toward the door that the guard had pointed to. “What’s wrong with ‘jeez’?” Tony asked.

  “Nothing, just that it makes you sound like you came from a sitcom in the sixties.”

  Tony flashed a grin at her. “That doesn’t sound so bad. Not all teenagers swear.”

  “The ones in LA do,” Val replied.

  “Well, in Eureka we like to say jeez. And jeepers. And corn nuts and bullspit.”

  Val wrinkled her nose at him. “Stop. You’re making me sick. Your mouth is so clean, I bet it tastes like soap.”

  Tony laughed at that, and Val smiled.

  They reached the door and found that it was one of those swinging doors that could be pushed open in either direction. They rammed the bin through it and into a kitchen comprised of gleaming stainless steel counters and cabinets. There was a thickset man in there, wearing a hairnet and a white jumpsuit, with a stained white apron tied around his waist and neck.

  “Good, you’re here,” he said, untying his apron and balling it up. “Names?”

  “I’m Tony.”

  “Valeria. But everyone calls me Val.”

  “Nice to meet you,” the man said. “I’m Sebastian. Head chef, and this here is my kingdom. When you’re done with the dishes, you can mop the floor and wipe down the counters.”

  “Seriously?” Val asked.

  Sebastian nodded gravely. “Seriously.”

  He jerked a thumb to a pair of deep sinks with giant pots and pans stacked to either side. “You better get started.” Val’s heart sank at the sight. “I hope you’re faster than the last two they assigned me. I don’t need you taking up space in my kitchen while I’m preparing lunch. You have two hours to clean everything before I have to prep the food. Make them count.”

  “Two hours?” Tony echoed. “The guard said we had four!”

  Sebastian let out a booming laugh. “The lieutenant cracks me up. He likes to shine a light at the end of the tunnel. Get scrubbin’, kids.”

  Tony and Val rolled their bin of dirty dishes over to the sinks.

  “This is child abuse,” Val said, surveying the mountain of work ahead of them. “We’ll never finish in two hours.”

  “Maybe not, but we have to try,” Tony said. “Come on, I’ll wash, you can dry and pass me the dirty dishes.”

  “Wrong!” Sebastian boomed from the other end of the kitchen. “You both wash! There’s two sinks for a reason. The trays and utensils clean and dry themselves in the storage system. You slot them in after you rinse off the food. The pots and cooking implements need to be cleaned and dried by hand, but you can save that job for the end.”

  Tony found the storage system. It was a revolving rack next to the sink, with slots for the trays. The utensil storage system was just a drop chute. They began rinsing off food into the drains, which turned out to be garbage disposal units that fed into the ship’s fertilizer and compost system—a fact that Sebastian mentioned on his way out. Val had to admit that the amount of forethought that had gone into designing this place was impressive.

  After about half an hour, they were done slotting in the dirty trays and dropping
utensils in the chute. Then came the more conventional task of scrubbing pots and pans and drying them with large white towels. It was all too familiar. Before long, Val’s eyes were burning, and then she was wiping tears on her sleeves under the guise of mopping sweat from her brow.

  “Are you okay?” Tony asked, taking a break from scrubbing a pot that was as almost as deep as his arms were long.

  Val nodded, but she couldn’t speak past the knot in her throat.

  “I think about them, too,” he said quietly, his eyes losing focus as he stared into the depths of his pot.

  Val looked at him, surprised to see Tony’s eyes sparkling with a suspicious gleam of moisture. “Who?” she managed.

  “My family. The ones I left behind. My mom, my sister, my dad.” He reached up and flicked hair out of his face to reveal wet cheeks. “I’m pretty sure they all died when that tsunami hit.”

  Val winced. “You don’t know that for sure. They could have made it somewhere.”

  He looked at her with dull eyes. “The hospital crumbled in that last quake at the same time your dad took off in the air ambulance. There’s no way any of the other buildings in Eureka survived, and even if some people managed to grab onto debris and float around after the first tsunami, they would have been hit by the second and probably drowned by it. I was out on my skateboard when it started. I heard the tsunami coming and saw people running for the hospital. I barely made it in time.”

  Val grimaced and swallowed thickly. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  “What about your mom?” Tony asked, making a visible effort to put on a brave face.

  Val shrugged and shook her head as she went back to drying the pan she had in her hands. “I don’t know. My mom went to Texas with my stepdad. I was supposed to join them—before I was abducted by Lewis’s goons, anyway.”

  “Oh, that’s right. They chose you for this. That must feel good. Did they tell you why?”

  “Not really. Something about my high IQ and good genes—whatever that means. I was locked up for a while, because I kept trying to attack the blue suits and bust out of here.” Val snorted. “I guess I can’t bust out anymore. Where would I go? Out the nearest airlock?”