Rise of the Forgotten

by Rebecca Mickley

  “So all of the debris and the semi functional systems?” Jill asked, challenging me.

  “It’s all because we have so much offline being repaired and restored. It might be a train wreck, but it's a train wreck I can handle. Still, we better get used to this. Patchwork ships and barely functional systems are going to be our lot for a while.”

  “I hear you.” Her tail flicked as she paused; her ears were down, giving her a glum appearance... “You know, you really should come back with me to the station tonight, the time off this wreck will do you some good.”

  “I’m more comfortable on there than I am on that military base. Besides, it makes it easier to get right to work here,” I answered in protest. The auxiliary batteries that powered the ship during the day didn’t last forever, and they didn’t need to. Until the ship was under her own power, we shut her down at night. The crew evacuated out to the repair ship as they recharged by umbilical lines, but I stayed aboard in the LRRC.

  “You’re hiding,” Jill accused, pushing me. I really didn’t want to do this today.

  “Oh? And what am I hiding from?” I shot back, taking the time to dismissively look over a manifest.

  “Everything. You haven’t made any speeches, you haven’t been really doing much of anything except overseeing the work here on the Zulfiqar. You aren’t even keeping up with events,” she said, sounding worried.

  “What can I do?” I replied, testily. “Morphics that are speaking up are still being thrown in detention centers. Rusch screwed me on his part of the deal, which is unpleasant, but ultimately expected, and if I don’t bust tail, we won't have the ships we need to get our people safe before this really gets ugly, so tell me again how am I hiding?”

  “Ok. Fine. You got a point Boss,” she surrendered, acquiescing for now. I was trying to adapt to the strange set of circumstances I had found myself in, but the change in structure and status was alien to me. Nowhere felt safe anymore; everything seemed to have a stronger more sinister edge to it. It wasn’t paranoia to realize the obvious, that society had pulled the safety net from under us.

  “Do you have those budget projections?” I asked, changing the subject. This was going to take a massive amount of funding to execute. The Farthest Star Act had that all covered though in the confiscation of all assets of colonial citizens. Everything we had was being liquidated towards the building of the Colonial Columns.

  Everything about this, even the name, was evidence of the military’s involvement in our forced relocation. The columns referred to the formation of ships, a rectangle, centered around the Gemini Class ships, that would move as a block through space.

  “Yeah, finished them this morning,” Jill said, handing me a pad. The numbers, surprisingly looked good.

  A wave of pain rocketed through my brain, and I reeled. Jill knelt down beside me, her eyes full of concern, but I righted myself and ignored it.

  “This, ironically, may be one of the greater kindnesses of this act,” I said, setting the tablet aside. Instead of holding on to the morphic assets, the UEA was using them to turbocharge the colonization efforts and accelerate repairs. An exchange of sorts had been set up where we were buying ships out of the boneyard at a greatly reduced rate. The message was clear, this might be about a power grab, but mainly they wanted us gone. I added the budget projection to a stack of other tablets on the former captain's terminal.

  “We got the first fleet of repair vessels beginning work on Zeus and Poseidon today,” Jill said, reminding me; my ears swiveled at the sound of a pill bottle popping open. She held out two of them in paw, and I eagerly gulped them down.

  “Thank you. Now, do you know when the engineering committee is going to be getting back to me on official numbers?” I pushed through the pain, trying to sort all this. Converting the large supply bays of the colony ships into temporary housing would boost our capacity enough to accommodate everyone. Auto freighters would accompany the convoy, I hoped. That meeting with the Martian Marauder was coming.

  “We are on target to move 125 to 150 thousand guaranteed Boss,” Jill replied, citing the estimates.

  “Yeah, but I need something nailed down to figure all of this out. The UEA is standing on my neck trying to cram as many as possible into these god damn columns.” My forepaws shot to the side of my head; lately my migraine headaches had grown more and more frequent. They came in short intense bursts, a testament to the amount of stress I was under. My little white pills were barely helping anymore.

  “Boss, you really need to see a doc. You shouldn’t be hurting that way, something could be out of calibration.” Her tone was full of worry. Along with the increase in my symptoms, came an increase in her concern.

  It wasn’t so bad. Sure there were times when my vision and hearing were affected and then then there was that one time I tasted copper for eight hours.

  You're fine, you don't need a doctor, just some more sleep. There's too much to do to stop now. Came a whisper of thought.

  “I’ll be fine, just lots of not sleeping and lots of worries,” I replied, hiding the bulk of the truth from her. There was just so much to get done and it wasn’t going to wait on my body to feel better.

  “Well, don’t forget that things are going right too. Zeus and Poseidon need about seventy-five percent less repair than Demeter and Hestia,” she said.

  “Well they were about to be brought online when the Far Horizon flamed out in space. One of a kind ships mean that there was never a high demand for parts.” It also presented a challenge, as the Demeter and Hestia were never fully completed, meaning it was going to take a full time nano-forge ship to get them up in any reasonable span of time.

  “Yeah, but back then, everything was made in orbit and then towed out there. We didn’t have the factory ships that dock like we have now.” Jill made a few notations on her ever-present clipboard.

  “All praise the drive for orbital platforms,” I replied. Space construction was one field that was booming for the UEA, as Earth’s population placed the planet under an increasingly heavy burden.

  “Well, according to these projections, the first of the columns should be launched April 15th and April 22nd, with somewhere north of 300,000 total moving those first two days.”

  “The UEA is pushing for more than that, and have gone so far as to restrict the columns to morphics only. I don’t like it... they’re breaking up families just so they can make more room.” I replied. They were really putting the colonies under pressure, The moves they were making were ominous, and threatening.

  Or maybe I was just tired, and seeing shadows everywhere.

  “Well Boss, they may just have to be disappointed. Hey, it really isn’t as bad as it seems,” she said, trying to cheer me up.

  “What about the supplies?” I asked, and Jill looked away. I felt the beginnings of another headache coming on.

  “We are getting no help from the UEA at all on that, and I think if we end up waiting on them, we are going to be stranded on those colonies with little to no supplies, not to mention construction facilities,” Jill said. The only focus the government seemed to have was on moving us; survival was our problem. The weight of it terrified me, as all of this seemed to hinge on my ability to navigate a system openly hostile to us.

  “We have the asset pools and can’t afford to wait. Jill, you need to get it through your head right now that we are on our own out here. The UEA isn’t going to help, so start being creative. You buy what you can from who you can. All these promises of giving us time to start colonization is a ruse and you know that. You say I’m not keeping up, well, I stopped watching last week after I heard about the latest riots in the relocation camps they have set up. Right now we are all they got. They listened to me, this is my mission, it’s my fault if they die!” I said, feeling the beginnings of panic setting in as I continued.

  “Start coordinating with what allies we have left and start making purchases and laying up provisions. Xavier is a good place to start; get me
a meeting and I'll handle the details. We can store them for now on any ship of the fleet we have that’s functional. As soon as we can get these people out of UEA detention, the better.” I finished, as I struggled to find the balance between packing in the people like cordwood, and letting the bulk suffer waiting for an open berth on the ships.

  “Easy Boss. Everyone knows you are doing what you can, and we do have allies that care, like the Marauder,” Jill answered, as I hopped over to a porthole window and looked out onto space.

  “You want to know what’s funny? Everyone is telling me to relax, but this is all on me. I’m responsible for every word I spoke that day. People listened to me and now they are suffering,” I replied, bitterly.

  “Suffering is better than dead, Snow,” Jill said.

  “You really want to debate that point?” I shot back, and she fell silent.

  “I really should get back to work,” she answered quickly, as her tail again did its dance. I wondered if I hurt her.

  “Jill, really thanks. I couldn’t do this without you. Jim would be proud,” I said, trying to reassure her.

  “Thanks for that Boss. I’d like to think he would be. Don’t worry, we are gonna pull together and pull through all this.”

  “I really hope you’re right,” I replied.

  Chapter 18

  "Snow, it's been years, you really should stay in touch," Xavier Douglas opened, the Martian Marauder. He held the colonial lease on Mars, and had built an empire off of her over the last sixty years. I had known his daughter, Mackenzie, who died on the Hope, the fateful mission that ended my career as a UEA astrogator.

  "Life does that. Seems no matter how hard I try, I can never get ahead, just keep up with damage control. Case in point," I replied, as a fresh wave of pain rocketed through me.

  "Your assistant briefed me, I knew this wasn't just a social call; to be honest, I've been expecting to hear from you." He had made his living learning to see around corners, and anticipate business needs, so this was no surprise.

  "I'd say Rusch is a rat bastard, but I know some rats, and they are good people," I answered, as his face lit up at my jibe, a hearty laugh escaping his throat, breaking up his business like appearance.

  "Well put, old girl. You know I did what I could to lobby against the act; Mackenzie would have been livid, can assure that I was. You say you need freighters, and supplies? Well what can I do? All of Mars is at your disposal." His answer caused about two tons of stress to lift off of me. Finally something was going right.

  "I need a lot of help actually, we have access to confiscated funds, and that's something, but the markets are kicking us hard. We're getting no help. I need auto-freighters, various foodstuffs, medical supplies... whatever you can do for us, whatever you have in surplus or boneyards, I'll take." After weeks of fighting, my dignity was severely damaged. I knew it was for the good of my people, but there was only so much begging and scraping I could handle.

  "I've got boneyards full of old auto-freighters, not too pretty and not too fast, but they get the job done, and occasionally have a part I need that I rather not spend credits on. Pretty sure I can let you have them for a cost; as for supplies, have your assistant talk to my assistant, and we can work out a family discount," he continued, with a grin.

  "I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you're running a business, not a charity," I said.

  "Yes. I am, which is why I'm not giving anything to you, I still have to answer to my board, but this isn't just about money, Snow. This is about ethics. Everything about it is utterly immoral, the last thing I want to do is make a profit off of blatant evil. What would Mackenzie think if I did? This is bigger than credits, and bigger than you or me. If Earth is going to treat you like chattel, Mars will treat you like the family you are." His tone grew firm and insistent, his features rigid.

  "Thank you, Xavier. You've always been a good friend to morphics. Remember that first time we met, the pool party? I'd never seen Joyce so happy." The memories seized me and my fur stood on end, as it competed with the one playing in parallel, of her last words.

  "Don't let this stop you, don't let it kill you. Remember me."

  "Oh I do, I'll never forget those days. They were so few. Damnably short, but I'd never seen my daughter so happy. She did more living aboard the Hope, and in the moments just before that awful tragedy than she had during her entire life. Shift tech was a new dawn for her. She came alive. I'll always be grateful to the Mendians for giving her what she needed to be free." A rogue tear dropped down his cheek.

  "I apologize," he continued, stiffening up, again assuming his business-like demeanor.

  "That's perfectly ok. Like you said, we're family, of sorts. United by tragedy and common purpose. This isn't just business," I answered, and he smiled.

  "Thank you Snow. Joyce would be proud of you, I think they all would be. You know the Centioc Colony was supposed to be the first of many." He began tapping the screen of one of the tablets strewn across his desk, before again turning his attention to me.

  "Yeah, things were different then. We were right at the precipice, at the beginning. It was nothing but hope in those days. Before the bombings, the death, the pain. All we could see was freedom, rising like a summer sunrise, but every summer gives way to winter, and ours came far too quickly." It had been almost twenty years, and the hope of the Treaty of Gates had proved a lie. The Farthest Star Act rose out of the rotting remains of that hope.

  "Never forget that winter gives way to spring, though. As dark as it seems right now, there's always hope in tomorrow. You have allies here. Real allies, and with distance from the UEA, who knows what can happen. I've been in a place similar to where you are. Just after the Atomic Apocalypse, couldn't see beyond the darkness then, but not even a decade later, it had all changed, and then first contact. Never lose faith in the hope that it can get better." His fierce blue eyes seemed to penetrate through the screen, nailing me to the bulkhead behind me.

  "I won't, as long as there is life in me, I'm going to keep hope. Thank you Xavier. It's been a good chat, but I have to get back to work. I'll have Jill contact your office and make the arrangements." I didn't want to go, but I had to; duty called, and waited for no hare.

  "You do that, but also, please stay in touch. It's been too long old friend," he replied, warmth evident through his tone.

  "I will. Thank you again, Dawkins, out." The feed cut, as a headache screamed, pulling me towards unconsciousness.

  Chapter 19

  The United Earth Colonial Authority ships, Zeus and Poseidon, had made it into orbit under their own power. Just off world now, the burgeoning colonies were beginning to take shape, as two new civilian fleets were amassing near Earth. The Danube had returned, and the Corvaldians had taken up residence aboard the Zulfiqar.

  It was a busy time, and really, that was an understatement.

  The Danube grew large in the window of the LRRC as the pilot coordinated with control. In a final insult, the UEA had decided that I didn’t need my flight qualifications until I got underway with the rest of the colony. Considering I was registered for the final column, that wasn’t going to be anytime soon.

  “You ready to do this, Boss?” Jill asked.

  “You mean pack up the last seven years of my life and store it aboard an auto freighter? Yeah, sure, been looking forward to it all week,” I replied sarcastically.

  “Boss, we did it. The Zeus launches next week, everything is starting to come together. The UEA is already loading colonists aboard her,” Jill replied, and for that, I was grateful, but it was still bittersweet.

  “Yeah. Still not happy about what they are doing,” I said gloomily.

  “You did your best to shut them down Boss,” Jill replied.

  “Still do you think we can really fit 590,000 on the first two columns? It’s insanity. Overcrowding leads to an increase in pressure and I don’t know how much more these people can stand. We’ve already had to rebuild our supply strat
egy twice because they keep wanting to cram more colonists aboard.” This wasn’t a calm and orderly evacuation, it was being turned into a stampeding panic before the building burned down around us.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. The UEA says it will hold that number, and they are going to make sure we do,” she replied.

  “Still they don’t understand. With humans, this would work better. We have morphics of all shapes, sizes and needs. Somehow, we need to make them listen,” I said, feeling frustrated and hopeless. Pain rocketed through my skull, and Jill looked on, concerned.

  “Boss, how many times do I need to say it? You need to see a doctor about those headaches. The UEA isn’t the only one that has a problem with listening.” The LRRC glided to a stop in the hangar bay, a bit roughly. I shot the pilot a look and an unappreciative grunt.

  That can be dealt with later, colony side.

  “Look, I promise to get checked out after we are colony side,” I said, firmly kicking that can down the road.

  “Boss, you know as well as I do that it’s going to be a while before we get the medical centers and anything beyond basic services off the ground. You need to get seen before we are out alone on the frontier,” she said, pushing the logical point.

  “It wouldn’t take so long if the UEA would let us have our own factory ships,” I replied. The ramp of the LRRC began to lower.

  “Yeah, but that’s just a power grab. They want to make sure we don’t get uppity. Still, the UEA is mandating your Ascension Protocol for all colonists, and that will make it easier. Less need for adaptive systems,” Jill replied looking for the positive.

  "Yeah, it’s a great system, and one of the only places where we've gotten any cooperation, I'd say it was strange, but that's government for you. Resist everywhere but where you expect." Erebus Industries practically was the UEA; they provided major components and ship parts. There were some that even predicted that the CEO would replace Rusch. Government and business made strange bedfellows, the very idea that the head of the corporation that designed my neural interface might end up leading the UEA under the same party that had ultimately disenfranchised us.