Colony B Box Set

by Michael Campling

  Kyrksen frowned, but the corner of his lip twitched. “We’re not trying to destroy the symbiont. We put it here. We’ve been seeding this planet for years.”

  Siobhan’s hand flew to her throat. “No!”

  “Oh, yes. Eventually, it will all be harvested and processed, but only after we reach peak growth. We need to harness the whole planet. We even have a different strain spreading through the oceans.”

  Siobhan lunged forward, her fist raised, but Milo jumped to his feet and held her back. “Shiv, don’t! It won’t achieve anything.”

  “Get your hands off me,” she hissed.

  But Milo held her tight. “It’s no good. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “In that, you are correct,” Kyrksen said. “The process is already well underway. No one can stop it now—not even us. The symbiont will digest everything in its path.”

  “You bastard!” Siobhan spat. “You’re wiping out everything on this goddamned world. And for what?”

  Kyrksen sniffed. “For fuel. The whole planet will eventually become one enormous fuel dump.”

  Siobhan’s shoulders slumped, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “My family. The children. You can’t…” She shook her head as if unable to go on.

  “Look at it this way,” Kyrksen said, “your people have survived against the odds for some time, so there’s a chance they’ll live out their lives on that hill…so long as they don’t venture down, of course.”

  “Couldn’t you rescue them?” Milo asked. “I mean, how are you getting back to Earth?”

  “We’ll be collected when our mission is over, but there probably won’t be enough room on the ship for everyone.” Kyrksen pushed out his bottom lip. “You can ask when the time comes, but I don’t hold out much hope. Maybe they’d pick up a few. The youngest perhaps.”

  “Did you hear that, Shiv?” Milo asked. “We could save the kids, and maybe more.”

  Siobhan stared at Milo. “Are you…are you saying you’ll stay? Do you seriously want to go along with these people?”

  Milo nodded. “It’s our only chance of ever getting back to Earth. And we could try and take some more people with us—as many as possible.”

  “Alternatively, I can drop you off here and you can walk back if that’s what you really want,” Kyrksen said. “But this planet is only going to become more inhospitable, and I’m offering you a chance to escape. I think your family would want you to take this opportunity. I think they’d want you to survive, to have a good life.”

  “He’s right, Siobhan.” Milo sat down on his chair. “I’m going to stay. I’m going back to Earth, and I think you should come with me. I’d like…I need you to stick with me. Please.”

  Siobhan lowered her gaze, then slowly, she sat down at Milo’s side and folded her hands in her lap.

  And Kyrksen smiled.

  TRAIL

  Colony B - Book II

  PROLOGUE

  A dark shape, the size of a large trash can, flies through the air, its angular metallic sides catching the early morning light. The terra-drone weaves and bobs its way across the landscape, its growling hover panels keeping it at a constant height of eight feet above the ground. On its front face, a large red light glows like a single eye, and the drone flies with a sense of purpose, never altering its speed but steadily picking out a path that takes it close to the coarse brushwood below while avoiding the scattering of taller trees.

  The resounding growl deepens and intensifies, reverberating through the still morning air, and soon the drone is joined by five identical machines, all racing forward as if to catch up with the front-runner. For a few frantic seconds, the drones dart around each other like dogs jockeying for position in the pack, but they soon settle into a neat v-shaped formation behind their leader. They fly onward together, their elegant arrangement only occasionally broken when a drone needs to avoid an obstacle. Then, as if on a signal, each drone releases a fine mist: a spray that swirls down to the ground in a continuous stream. The cloud of steamy curls hangs in the air for a moment, then drifts down to settle and melt away into the vegetation below.

  Ahead, a flock of crow-like birds is feeding, plucking ripe berries from the tangled creepers that grow up through the wiry bushes, but the birds break off their feast and raise their scaly heads to watch the drones approach. But only for a second. The ungainly birds launch themselves into the air, crying out in alarm and flapping their leathery wings. They find a thermal and begin to circle, taking advantage of the updraft to cruise higher, their lazy wings outstretched to catch the relatively warm air. Their hearing is poor, but their eyes are sharp enough, and they keep a careful watch on their feeding ground below.

  The snarling drones sprint over the mass of intertwined creepers without pause, and then they’re heading away, hurtling into the distance. The dull hum of their hover panels fades away, and for a moment, all is quiet. But before the crows can begin to glide downward, a new sound rises up: a rumbling roar carried on the quiet air. The noise grows louder, tearing the silence apart, and then, like a nightmarish vision of dark vengeance, a swarm of monstrous machines thunders across the forlorn landscape. The trucks number only six, but each one is massive: a brutal contrivance of cold metal and glinting glass. This fearsome fleet races above the trembling ground, their hover panels crackling and spitting sparks. They cruise over the brush and batter aside the taller trees, intent on their course as if pursuing the drones in an outlandish mechanical hunt.

  High overhead, the crows screech and soar upward, and although hunger stirs their bellies, their fear forces them to wait until the danger has passed. The dark shapes below are like nothing they’ve ever seen, but already the monsters are moving away, careering across the open country and fleeing toward the horizon.

  The crows waste no time in swooping down, keeping a watchful eye on the competition as each bird strives to be the first to land. They settle clumsily on the gnarled branches, cocking their heads to spy out the best berries, then they feed as fast as they can, stripping each vine bare and then moving on, jabbing their blunt beaks toward any neighbors that dare to come too close.

  Suddenly, one of the smaller crows lets out a strangled shriek and shakes its head. There’s something wrong, and panic spreads through the flock as more birds take up the alarm. As one, the crows try to take off, but for most, it’s too late; their minds are already consumed by waves of unbearable pain, their senses thrown into complete confusion. A few birds succeed in taking to the air, but the rest of the flock fail. They tumble from the branches, their wings flapping uselessly, and land heavily on the ground where they writhe in the dust, their muscles quivering in agony.

  Beneath one struggling creature, the ground erupts, and a snake-like creature bursts from the soil. The dirt python grips the crow in its jaws then coils its sinuous body around the stricken creature, tightening its muscles to crush the breath from the crow’s body. The bird does not suffer for long, but before the python can enjoy its meal, it too begins to struggle, rolling over and over on the ground, its smooth sides twitching in pain. Beaten by an unseen enemy, the snake releases its prey and bolts for its tunnel, seeking refuge in the cool, dark earth.

  The remaining crows circle their feeding ground, calling out in raucous agitation. They’ve been denied the chance to eat, but despite the hollow craving in their stomachs, they’re reluctant to land. Their legs and feet are covered in a thick layer of tough scales, but even so, something in the bushes prickled their flesh, and the pain is much worse than anything they’ve known.

  Without warning, one of their number drops from the sky, spiraling downward, its wings folded against its body, and the rest of the flock turn and fly away. There’s something bad here, but there are plenty of places where the creeper berries grow. They’ll find somewhere to settle soon enough. Until then, they’ll just have to keep looking.

  CHAPTER 1

  The Hill

  Beneath the flapping canopy of the meeting area, Connor st
ood at attention, staring straight ahead. In front of him, the five members of the council sat in silence behind a makeshift table. There were no onlookers for the council meeting being held today, although the meeting area was next to the settlement’s central square and had no walls; a fact that had earned it the nickname, The Big Tent.

  Having listened in silence to Connor’s report, Evelyn Naidu, seated at the center of the group, was the first to respond. “I’m sure we can all see that you’ve been through a great deal, Connor. But you must understand that there are a number of issues here that cause us great concern.”

  “Yes,” Connor said. “I know how this must sound, but at the same time, you must appreciate that time is of the essence. If…” He paused and shook his head. “We are going to recover my daughter and her friend, whatever it takes, but any delay at this point can only—”

  “Be useful,” Evelyn interrupted, completing Connor’s sentence. “We need time to formulate an effective strategy.”

  Sitting next to Evelyn, Matt Pierdew cleared his throat. “Connor, we can’t rush into this without thinking it through. Evelyn’s right, we need a proper strategy, and we have to put the needs of the settlement first. Perhaps, if you could give us a few minutes to discuss this among ourselves we’d come to a conclusion more quickly.”

  Derek Kline grimaced. “Nonsense,” he spluttered. “I can’t believe any of this.”

  “Do you have something that you wish to add, Derek?” Evelyn asked.

  “You’re damned right I do,” Derek replied. “For one thing, I want to know what’s happening about Finn. I can’t believe you just left him out there on the hill. It’s a disgrace.”

  Connor looked down, and for a moment he pictured Finn’s body lying on the stony ground. But then another image came to mind: his daughter running out across the deadly lowlands, climbing into the hovering craft and being whisked away. He looked Derek in the eye. “I’m sorry for the loss of your friend, but Finn played a large part in causing this disaster. He broke away from the group. He ignored our instructions. He fired first.” Connor turned his head slowly, meeting the gaze of each of the council members in turn. “None of you foresaw this situation. I tried to warn you often enough, but you assumed we were alone on this planet, and you didn’t take our defense seriously enough. Our preparations were laughable, and this is the result—two people missing, abducted. I’m not prepared to stand for that. I have the full support of my patrol team leaders, and we’re ready to mount a rescue mission right now. So the answer is no. I’m not going to walk away while you talk about it. I need a decision now.”

  “How dare you?” Derek demanded. “You think you can come in here and dictate terms to us? Do you think you can deny our authority?”

  Connor didn’t reply. He set his mouth in a grim line, planted his feet firmly on the ground, and stared into the middle distance.

  “All right, people,” Evelyn said. “We need to calm down.” She turned to the other members of the council. “Catherine, Jordan, you haven’t spoken yet. Is there anything you’d like to say?”

  Catherine Rhodes nodded. “Connor has my full support. He’s always worked hard for the good of the settlement, and I think it’s about time we repay that debt.”

  Jordan Beech frowned. “I don’t want to be rushed into this. We could lose more people, more resources. We have to be careful.”

  Evelyn tilted her head from side to side as if weighing up their words. “It seems to me that Connor could have set off on his own, but instead he came to us and asked for our support and our understanding. It is clear that something must be done about recovering Finn’s body, but it would be unjust to blame Connor for Finn’s death.”

  Derek grunted and opened his mouth to speak, but Evelyn didn’t give him the chance. “We will look carefully into the cause of Finn’s death later, but for now, the most important thing is to try and recover our missing people.”

  “Then you’ll agree?” Connor asked. “You’ll let me take the rover?”

  Evelyn glanced at the other members of the council. “Given the urgency of the situation, it’s the only option. But it would be best if we were to vote on the matter.”

  “We have one rover,” Jordan snapped. “One! And we have to keep it in reserve.”

  “Reserve for what?” Catherine demanded. “If this isn’t an emergency, then I don’t know what is.”

  “We’ll vote,” Evelyn stated. “As leader of this council, I recommend that Connor should be allowed to use the rover, and further, that he be allowed to mount a rescue mission immediately, but I do have two conditions. The people he takes with him must go voluntarily, and he must leave at least one patrol leader in the settlement to maintain order. I hope that’s all self-explanatory.” She paused. “Right, let’s have your decisions. Matt?”

  “I vote in favor,” Matt said. “The rover is the only viable option for a rescue mission, and so long as Connor can agree to Evelyn’s conditions, then I’m happy to support it.”

  “Me too,” Catherine said.

  “Well, that’s it then,” Derek grumbled. “We all know what you think, Evelyn, so my opinion is irrelevant.”

  “Nevertheless, I’d like to hear it,” Evelyn said.

  Derek folded his arms. “I vote no.”

  “I don’t like this haste,” Jordan said. “I still feel we need more time, but given the circumstances, I agree with Evelyn. Connor should take the rover.”

  “And I vote yes,” Evelyn said. “Go ahead, Connor and assemble your team. You’ll need Mac to get the rover running, so I’ll send word and get him moving. All you need to do is prepare yourself and your people, and I suggest you start straightaway.”

  Connor nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was edged with steely resolve. “Thank you, Evelyn. Thank you all. I’ll bring the rover back safely as soon as I’ve found my daughter. I’ll bring everyone back. You can count on it.”

  “I know,” Evelyn said. She waved him away. “Now go. Get ready. And just for once, don’t worry about the settlement. We can manage without you, for a little while anyway.”

  Connor managed a grim smile, then he turned and walked away, marching out across the empty square and heading directly for home. Before the council meeting, he’d sent word to the patrol leaders, asking them to gather at his house, so if everything had gone to plan they would be waiting for him when he got home. Connor quickened his pace; he had a lot to do.

  He moved through the settlement quickly, marshaling his thoughts while he walked, replaying the council meeting in his mind. Evelyn had been right; he could’ve set off on this mission without the council’s agreement. He’d been sorely tempted to try. He’d even been prepared to try taking the rover without permission, although that would’ve been difficult without Mac’s co-operation. Connor had never approved of the council’s decision to entrust the rover’s maintenance to Mac, but Mac had argued his case at a public meeting, and the council had been taken in by the man’s bluster. Much to Mac’s delight, Connor’s advice had been ignored, and the two men had been at daggers drawn ever since.

  He’ll have to do what he’s told this time, Connor thought. If he gets in the way, he’ll only prove that I was right not to trust him.

  Connor rounded a corner and looked toward his house. Good. A small group stood by the door: his wife Helen and his four patrol leaders. They were waiting, ready to hear his news, and he had plenty to tell them. It was time to pick his team.

  CHAPTER 2

  Truck One

  Doctor Lyndsey Teare leaned forward and placed her hands on the back of the metal chair, gripping it tight until her knuckles turned white. In front of her, the six pilots of the fleet sat in a circle and argued, all talking at once, their voices raised in defiance or outrage or plain stubbornness.

  Lyndsey tuned out their words and focused her gaze on Kyrksen Gall, the pilot of truck two and the man responsible for gathering data during their time on this planet. What the hell is he playing at? she asked
herself. Is he trying to disrupt the mission? Is he trying to gain some sort of advantage over the other pilots? Is he a threat?

  Kyrksen noticed Lyndsey’s scrutiny, and he broke off in mid-rant to trade stares with her, a thin, cold smile on his lips. One by one, the other pilots stopped their bickering and turned their eyes to Lyndsey, as if sensing her impatience.

  Alec Stevens, the pilot of truck one and Lyndsey’s second in command, cleared his throat then said, “Doctor Teare, with respect, we need you to make a ruling on this. We can’t let Kyrksen ride rough-shod over the chain of command.”

  Kyrksen let out a grunt, but before he could launch into another speech, Lyndsey stood up straight and glared at each of them in turn. “Chain of command? Is that what you think this is?” She gestured toward the seated pilots. “This is a fiasco. I’d get more sense from a bunch of ten-year-olds.”

  Alec pursed his lips, his eyes burning with restrained anger, but most of the other pilots lowered their heads. Only Kyrksen stared back at her in open defiance, his smile widening.

  “This is not a military mission,” Lyndsey went on, “but we are a team of professionals, and I expect and demand a certain level of professional courtesy. I’ve always encouraged the exchange of ideas, but I’m not prepared to stand by and allow this mission to descend into chaos while my pilots engage in a slanging match.”

  The pilots regarded each other with accusing stares, then the youngest pilot, Jackson Delaney, broke the silence. “Doctor Teare is right. Whatever our personal feelings are about this…situation, we need to put them aside and consider the facts.”

  “Thank you, Jackson,” Lyndsey said. “So let’s review the facts. Kyrksen, without my permission and without informing anyone else of your decision, you separated from the fleet and took aboard two young people who had ventured out from their shelter on the hill. Am I right, so far?”

  Kyrksen nodded. “The people in question are adults, but apart from that, yes. I realized that they were in danger and made an executive decision to rescue them.”