by Brenda Hiatt
The Captain’s voice comes over the speakers, welcoming us to Earth and informing us that our luggage will be taken directly to our accommodations in Dun Cloch. “You will leave the ship according to level, so please remain seated until your section is called.”
Steerage is the very last group allowed to leave, of course. As we’re waiting in the long line to exit the ship, I hear occasional exclamations from those ahead of us—probably excitement at seeing Earth for the first time.
Finally, I follow my parents through the outer portal for my first breath of Earth air—then gasp when something cold and wet slaps me in the face. “What the efrin?”
“Oh, wow!” Adina sounds thrilled. “I was hoping to see rain once we got to Earth, but I didn’t expect it to be happening when we landed. Isn’t it amazing?”
“Amazing,” I echo. “That’s one word for it.”
“Move along, please,” comes the first officer’s voice from behind us. “You’ll only get wetter if you dawdle. The shield starts at the edge of the launch area.”
Our family hurries after the others down the ramp and across the brightly lit square around the ship. I’m doing my best not to cringe at the unfamiliar feel of water lashing my face and arms, especially since my sister seems to be positively reveling in it, actually turning her face up to the bizarre torrent from above.
I break into a trot and a moment later the deluge abruptly stops. Glancing back at the still-cascading rain, I realize I’ve reached the force shield, which apparently protects everything but the landing site from assaults by the open sky.
Adina follows more slowly, clearly enjoying this, our first Earth adventure. On joining us under the shield, she grins and shakes her head violently, sending water drops flying in every direction—including into my face.
“Hey! I’m wet enough without that.”
“Aw, lighten up, Kira,” she teases. “You’re not afraid of a little rainstorm, are you?”
Before I can answer, there’s a blinding flash of light, followed almost immediately by an ear-splitting explosion. I instinctively drop to the ground, covering my head with my arms. Most of those around me do the same. Maybe, if we all lie low…
Nearby laughter interrupts my panicked thoughts. Laughter? When we’re clearly under attack?
Cautiously, I raise my head to look in that direction and see a crowd of people watching the Horizon’s passengers disembark. Are they all Faxon supporters? Did they set off that explosion?
“It’s all right, it’s all right.” A tall woman shoulders her way through the crowd and hurries toward us. “You lot, stop laughing!” she calls to the amused spectators. “Most of you were no better during your first thunderstorm.”
She turns back to the frightened group of new arrivals. “That was a rather rude greeting for you all, fresh from Nuath. Sorry about that. I’m Fianna, Dun Cloch’s chief immigration officer. We’d have delayed your landing until after the storm if it were possible, but of course it wasn’t. Really, though, it’s nothing to worry about, just a bit of thunder and lightning.”
Those of us who dove for cover begin clambering sheepishly to our feet even as another flash occurs, followed by another tooth-rattling boom. Adina, I notice, remained standing—brat—but Mum and Dad look nearly as shaken as I am.
“Of…of course,” Mum manages after a moment. “How silly of us. They did warn us about weather. I just didn’t expect so… so much of it immediately upon our arrival.”
Dad chuckles. “I’m sure none of us did. Are you all right, Kira?”
Feeling totally stupid now, I nod. “I’m fine. It just startled me, that’s all. Reminded me of that time Faxon’s goons blew up the—” Mum flinches and I break off. “Sorry.”
It was during that series of reprisals against Hollydoon’s protests that Mum was captured. Scary for all of us, but much worse for her.
“We should be able to dry off soon enough,” Dad says with forced joviality. “Where are we supposed to be?” he asks the woman who greeted us.
“Follow me.” She touches a button on her collar. “This way, everyone.” Her voice is now magnified enough to be heard over the babble of voices and the hissing rain. “Our agents will check you in as quickly as possible, then let you go to your lodgings. Your luggage has already been taken there.”
There’s no gleaming terminal like the one in Arregaith. Instead, several people wearing official-looking sashes move among us, verifying our identities with retinal scans and thumbprints and checking our names off their lists.
Once we’re in the system, our agent loads a map of Dun Cloch to Dad’s omni with our assigned lodging highlighted. “Any of your thumbprints should open the door. Enjoy your stay in Dun Cloch.”
Even as Dad thanks the man, he’s already turning to the next group, probably eager to finish and get to bed.
“Looks like we go this way,” Dad says, consulting the holographic map. We follow him away from the landing area, past several large buildings that appear to be single-family homes.
“Wow, will we be staying in one of these?” Adina points at one on our right. “These are really nice houses.”
Glancing again at the map, Dad shakes his head. “Looks like we’re in one of the new housing units they’ve built to handle the influx of immigrants.”
We keep walking, passing progressively smaller houses. Suddenly, we’re getting wet again.
“Hey! What happened to the shield?” I shake my head to get the water out of my eyes.
“I imagine it only protects the central area,” Mum says. “It would take far too much energy to climate control the entire compound, considering Dun Cloch is larger than Hollydoon.”
We walk faster. To my disgust, I continue to flinch every time another flash of lightning and its resulting thunder occur. For the past year I’ve tended to think of myself as the strong one in the family, so it’s galling to discover my little sister is braver than I am.
“Here we are.” Dad stops in front of a short set of metal stairs leading to a door labeled “C-153.”
Peering through the still-driving rain, I see it’s one of dozens of doors spaced along a low metal structure that stretches away into the dark in both directions. Not very inviting.
Hoisting his small bag higher on his shoulder, Dad mounts the three steps and presses his thumb against the pad by the door. It slides open with a reassuring hiss and lights come on inside. We all crowd through the door, eager to get out of the rain, then look around.
“Ew.” I eye the tiny gray room with distaste. There are bunk beds on one wall and a pair of desks on the other, with a vidscreen on the wall above them. Two open doors at the back reveal a bathroom and a second bedroom. “I guess it’s better than Steerage, but…”
“It’s only temporary. Soon we’ll leave here for Jewel, where I’m sure things will be much nicer.” Mum’s cheerfulness sounds a little forced.
Even Adina looks dubious as she stares around. “Just the one bathroom, huh? At least there will only be four of us sharing it now.”
“It will be fine,” Dad says firmly. “Look, they’ve provided us with towels, that’s nice. Let’s dry off and try to get a bit of sleep before breakfast, as we’ll be facing a full day tomorrow. If it’s still raining, I’ll see if I can add a shield app to my omni before we venture out.”
He grabs a couple of towels from the bathroom, then he and Mum disappear into the back bedroom, where their bags are waiting by the foot of the bed. Just like on the Horizon, my larger bag is on the top bunk, Adina’s on the bottom one.
My sister goes into the bathroom and comes out with two more towels, handing one to me. “Until I read those chapters on Dun Cloch, I was hoping we’d have hot showers and stuff here,” she says, “but at least we got to experience getting completely wet. I didn’t expect rain to be so cold, though.”
Unlike Adina, I was relieved to learn we’d still have Martian technology here. Not only are we ridiculously far from the nearest Earth community,
the compound generates its own energy using solar and wind power, making Dun Cloch nearly undetectable by the Duchas. So at least we don’t have to give up conveniences like ionic showers yet.
Towels are a novelty, though. We get out of our wet things and dry off, then put on nightgowns even though we only woke up on the Horizon a few hours ago.
“Let’s unpack,” I suggest.
While Mum and Dad each take a quick turn in the bathroom, Adina and I stow our few belongings into the four drawers beneath the bottom bunk, then take our own turns in the bathroom.
Embarrassingly aware that my little sister is handling this transition a lot better than I am so far, I turn off the light and climb into bed. The rain is hammering more loudly than ever on the metal roof, less than four feet over my head. No way will I ever fall asleep.
Next thing I know, it’s morning.
“Wake up, sleepyheads.”
At the sound of Mum’s voice, I open my eyes and blink, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar ceiling above me. Then memory returns and I sit up. The rain seems to have stopped, and light is filtering through a narrow, curtained window I didn’t notice last night.
“What time is it?” Adina asks sleepily from the bottom bunk. “I feel like I just fell asleep a minute ago.”
“Past eight-thirty, Montana time,” Dad says from behind Mum. “They’ll stop serving breakfast in less than an hour, so we should hurry if we want to eat.”
We had breakfast on the Horizon an hour or two before landing in Montana, but it’s way past lunchtime in Nuath by now. My stomach growls and I scramble out of my bunk.
It’s surprisingly chilly when we step outside—cooler than I’ve ever experienced in Nuath, though the bright morning sun warms us quickly as we walk. I squint up at it but only for a moment. The brilliance hurts my eyes.
“Check out our shadows,” Adina says excitedly, pointing.
The dark silhouette moving along with me is both creepy and kind of cool. The only shadows in Nuath are those cast by unusually intense lights at night, like at some caidpel games.
In sunshine, Dun Cloch seems more welcoming than it did last night in the rain, but the rows of metal buildings housing the new immigrants look uglier than ever. Dad leads us to a nearby dining facility, where we’re greeted by the enticing odor of bacon and scrambled eggs. My stomach rumbles again, the prospect of food lightening my mood further. We carry our filled plates to one of the long tables, where several of our fellow travelers cheerfully wish us good morning.
“Where is your family staying?” Jana moves her tray to sit next to Adina. “Is your place as lame as ours?”
“Building C, unit 153,” Adina tells her. “And yeah, it’s small, but way better than Steerage. Where are you?”
Jana wrinkles her nose. “D-72, next building over. I guess it’s okay since we’ll mostly only be there to sleep. Wonder when we find out who gets to go to Jewel?”
I let everyone’s chatter flow over me at first, totally focused on my breakfast. Not until I’ve taken the edge off my hunger do I notice Alan and a couple other teens from the Horizon at the next table. He sees me looking and motions me over. I’m just getting up to join them when an announcement booms through the dining hall.
“Good morning. Our newest arrivals are asked to move to the western end of the room for a newcomers’ meeting, which will begin in ten minutes. Everyone else, please proceed to your assigned classes.”
As soon as the hundred-odd Horizon passengers are seated, Fianna, the same woman who greeted us last night, stands up in front of us.
“Hello again, everyone. I hope most of you managed to get a bit of sleep despite last night’s thunderstorm. Though we’d prefer to give you a few days to accustom yourselves to the time change and your new surroundings, circumstances require us to begin your training immediately. Due to the unprecedented arrival of so many Nuathans during a single launch window, we have compressed the traditional three-month orientation program into half that, in order to make room for later arrivals as earlier ones complete their training and leave.”
While she’s talking, two men and a woman start handing out clunky-looking tablets to everyone.
“These tablets will be yours to keep,” Fianna explains, “as they are designed to look like ordinary Duchas technology despite a few special enhancements. Once everyone has one, I’ll show you how to access your personal orientation schedules. Those will vary somewhat, depending on which town or city you are bound for. In addition to the facts and training specific to your destinations, each of you will be assigned a Duchas identity complete with personal histories. It is imperative that you learn every detail of those identities. That will minimize your likelihood of arousing Duchas suspicions that could risk exposure of our true origins. The importance of maintaining absolute secrecy on that point should be obvious.”
A woman off to our right raises her hand.
“Yes?”
“What if we haven’t requested a permanent location yet? I thought we’d be able to learn more about our choices before deciding.”
Fianna nods. “Not to worry. The first ten days of your orientation are applicable to any location. After that, however, you will need to either submit a settlement request or confirm that you are willing to allow the administrators to assign you to a location they consider appropriate. Your tablets contain information on numerous acceptable towns and cities, or you may research others on your own. Those of you with children below the age of twelve are asked to limit your choices to primarily Echtran communities, though you will be free to relocate once they are older. Please note that while we will do our best to honor your selections, in some cases that may not be possible.”
Another hand goes up. “Yes?”
“Why not?” a man asks. “You won’t split up families, will you?”
“Not nuclear families, of course not,” Fianna assures him. “In fact, we’ll do our best to keep extended families and friends together, if you’ve noted that in your preferences. However, we must take into account how many newcomers a particular community can reasonably accommodate. For example, if you request Jewel, Indiana, as many have already done, we strongly recommend you indicate at least one alternate choice.”
There’s some muttering at this and I notice a few people exchanging concerned glances.
Fianna holds up a hand and the murmuring subsides. “You must understand that with only five thousand Duchas inhabitants, Jewel cannot possibly absorb several hundred new Echtrans at once. It hasn’t the space or the resources. While the Echtran Council is taking steps to maximize the number Jewel can accommodate, it is unlikely that more than a few dozen from the current launch window will be cleared to move there. However, a great number of Earth communities share many features in common with Jewel. I encourage you to look into those.”
A woman from behind us speaks up without being called on. “But when the Sovereign came to our village she said—”
“Yes, the Sovereign did tout the attractions of her hometown in her efforts to overcome your understandable resistance to emigrating, but no specific promises were made as to who would be allowed to live there.”
“When will we know?” another woman asks plaintively.
“Shortly after the current launch window closes, six weeks from now,” Fianna replies. “Before that time, everyone who insists on keeping Jewel as their first choice will undergo extremely thorough background checks. The results will be taken into account when making final selections.”
More muttering. Clearly no one had counted on this, though it does make sense.
“In addition,” Fianna continues, “those who are selected will require at least two weeks of additional instruction before relocating to Jewel. Needless to say, choosing a different town will almost certainly mean an earlier release from Dun Cloch to your permanent Earth homes. Something to keep in mind. Now, if you will all activate your tablets…”
For the next hour, she walks us through the accelerated
Orientation schedule. Along with intimately familiarizing ourselves with Earth culture, those of us still in school will study age-appropriate academics before being sorted into Duchas grade levels. Everyone over the age of sixteen will also be taught how to operate the primitive gas-powered automobiles used by Earth humans.
As settlement assignments are made, we’ll be given fake personal histories, along with corresponding identification and supporting documents. Later, we’ll be tested on those false backgrounds and our accents will be fine-tuned for believability.
Most evenings we’ll be expected to view popular films and television shows, followed by discussion groups and/or online quizzes on the material. In other words, the next six weeks will be scheduled almost to the minute. Though at first we’ll follow the Nuathan tradition of taking every third afternoon off, later we’ll switch to the Duchas seven-day work week.
“Lunch won’t be served for another hour,” Fianna finishes at last. “I recommend you use that time to settle in and familiarize yourselves with your schedules for the next few days. After lunch, your instruction will begin in earnest.”
Alan Dempsey catches up with me as we all file out of the dining hall to head back to our quarters. “Sounds like we won’t have much time for caidpel after all, huh?”
“Guess not.” I don’t really care, though I hope I’ll have time for some kind of exercise. “Maybe we can at least find a place for speed drills. Wonder if they have standard conditioning equipment here somewhere?”
“I’ll look into it and let you know,” he promises. “We can be running buddies, at least. This is going to be great, Kira, you’ll see. And even better once we both get to Jewel.”
With a parting grin, he follows his parents off to the right while my family goes left. I wait till his back is turned to grimace. Because I’m not seeing the great myself, unless it’s that I’ll be too busy to dwell on everything I’ve lost.
10
Threoirach
threoirach (TRO-rok): instruction; orientation; guidance