Imprint of Blood

by Phil Huddleston

  The grave was in the center of the field of bluebonnets, and as the honor guard fired their rifles, the children held their hands over their ears. The honor guard folded the flag on the coffin and presented it to Chloe, as Jake had directed them before the service.

  Clutching it tightly, Chloe continued to hold on to Stephen as best she could, while the honor guard marched away to their waiting shuttle. Teresa and Lois, by prior agreement, led the children back to the cabin. But Jake stayed a bit, while the gravediggers lazed under a distant tree, shovels in hand, waiting for everybody to leave so they could finish their job. Jake walked over to the gravestone, not yet placed. It was covered by a tarp, several meters behind the grave, shielded by a tree. Jake pulled off the tarp and looked at the stone. It contained Kirsten’s name, date of birth and death, and the motto of the RDF:

  “Bound in life and death, we offer our lives for each other and for humanity.”

  Below that was a single handprint – the kind Jake had seen in ancient caves, handprints left behind by prehistoric humans – symbols to a future world. A message to the future. They had lived. They had loved. They had made a world together. It was the shorthand version of the RDF motto. It appeared on the RDF Battle Flag, and on the nose of every warship.

  Kneeling beside the grave, Jake spoke softly to Kirsten.

  “We made something good, Kirs. We made something that will protect humanity for hundreds, maybe thousands of years to come. We gave it integrity, courage and common sense, most of that from you. And we made two beautiful children, to carry that legacy forward.”

  Jake leaned forward and kissed the top of the coffin, then slowly walked away.

  Sol System - MarsBase

  “Ostracize them,” said Jake. “No more discussion.”

  Gunner Carlson, his Chief of Staff, gazed at him steadily, as did Teresa on the other side of the table.

  “Jake,” Gunner began, but Jake cut him off.

  “No more discussion. Ostracize them.”

  There was a short silence as Gunner and Teresa hoped to get Jake to calm down and see reason. Finally, Teresa stepped in.

  “Think of all the innocent people who had nothing to do with Kirsten’s death,” she said. “A hundred thousand people who would have loved her as much as we do. A hundred thousand people who welcomed her to Sierra Nevada to try and resolve the crisis. Do we throw all of them to the wolves, just because of what a couple of dozen terrorists did?”

  Jake shook his head, angry. “I told her not to go. I told her!”

  Teresa continued. “And maybe that’s why you’re so angry, Jake. Because you blame yourself. But it wasn’t your fault, Jake! You know Kirsten and her sense of duty. She had to go, because it was her job. Nothing you could have done would have changed her mind.”

  Jake stared at the table for a long time. Finally, he sighed. “OK, then give them a stiff fine. One starship added to their charter debt.”

  Gunner looked at Teresa across the table. Slowly, he agreed, realizing Jake would settle for nothing less. “I think that might be appropriate,” he said. Without another word, Jake rose and left the table.

  Gunner continued to look at Teresa. “At least, make it a scoutship, not a battleship,” he said. “Cut them some slack.”

  Teresa nodded. Then she sighed. “What are we going to do about Pete Franklin? He blames himself. He’s devastated. He’s non-functional at this point. He turned in his resignation to me.”

  Gunner shook his head. “I know. He thinks he should have caught the bullet, not Kirsten. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive himself. I really don’t think he can come back from this.”

  Teresa mused for a second. “I wonder…maybe I know something that might save him…”

  ***

  Two weeks later, Jake walked into his apartment. Hanging his cap on the hook by the door, he saw an unknown Captain’s cap hanging there. Teresa called out from the kitchen. “Lois is here, Jake. I invited her for dinner.”

  “Great,” said Jake. “I’ll just change.”

  He went into the bedroom and changed from his uniform into jeans and a polo shirt, then went back out to the kitchen. Lois and Teresa were setting the table. Jake kissed Teresa, then hugged Lois. They sat down to dinner, and ate quietly for a while, Teresa and Lois making some small talk about an upcoming training exercise. After a while, Teresa got up, collected the dishes and put them in the sink, got the coffeepot and re-filled their cups, and sat back down. She looked over at Lois.

  “Lois, would you like to join our marriage?”

  Lois smiled. “Thanks, Teresa, but no. I appreciate it. But no. I don’t think so.”

  “You’d be welcome,” said Teresa. “We’d love to have you.”

  Lois glanced at Jake. “No, but thank you, Teresa. Kirsten was bi, so that made things work out well with you and Jake. But I’m not. I’m all gay, so I don’t think it would work.”

  Jake commented. “It’d be fine, Lois, if you want to do it. I’d be fine without the sex.”

  Lois shook her head. “No. Anyway, I’d always feel like I was replacing Kirsten. I don’t think it would be a good feeling.”

  Lois placed her hand over Teresa’s. “But I love you for asking, Teresa. I hope we can always be friends, if you want.” Lois looked over at Jake to see his reaction.

  Jake managed a smile, a painful one but genuine. “I think Kirsten would like that, Lois. You are …well…please consider yourself part of our family. Married or not. Part of the family.”

  Teresa nodded. “Yes, Lois. Now and forever. Part of our family.”

  ***

  Gunner and Teresa sat in Jake’s conference room, with several members of their staff, along with Pete Franklin and Amy Tan. Jake gazed around the table at them.

  “Are you quite sure about this, Pete?” he asked.

  Pete nodded. “Yes, sir. We’ll do it.”

  “Amy?”

  “I’m in,” responded Amy.

  “And you’ll use the Yorkshire?” Jake asked.

  “Correct,” said Teresa. “It’s the oldest colony ship, but it’s been a great ship for its entire career, never any major issues. It’s safely delivered well over 100,000 colonists so far. And it just came out of C-check overhaul. It’s ready to go.”

  “Sara?”

  “We’ve got a candidate list of 10,000 names that we’re contacting right now,” responded Sara Watkins. “We’ve already gotten 300 acceptances. If the present trend continues, we’ll have a full complement of 500 in another two weeks – one-half the normal complement for a colony, but that will double the supplies available to them at the other end, so we’re happy with that number. That will still create a viable colony, with enough genetic diversity, especially since we’re requiring equal parts Asian, African and Caucasian. We’ve got the manifest complete and all required goods are either in the Geneva warehouse or can be bought off the shelf. We can launch in three months.”

  Jake leaned over the table, gazing at Pete and Amy.

  “And I want to make sure you understand the parameters. Once you launch, you pick a random location, and we never know where that is. Nobody left behind will ever know where you are, until after the Bat threat is resolved. You can communicate with us only to let us know that you have arrived safely, and you can give us simple progress reports as you establish the colony, so that we know you are alive and well. But nothing that could identify where you are, how far you went, or the exact planet you are on.”

  “We understand, sir,” said Pete, Amy nodding beside him.

  “Then get to it, Pete,” said Jake. “Start crew selection, don’t force anyone to go against their will. But get it done.”

  Pete Franklin nodded vigorously. He looked at Amy and reached for her hand under the table. Her pregnancy was just starting to show. With any luck at all, the baby would be born on the ship while they were underway and would grow up on a new planet – a new home for the children of Earth. Possibly the only home for them, if things went
badly. And a second chance for Pete Franklin.

  Aeolian Empire – City of Aronte

  Empress Miranda glared across the table at her sister, Princess Merope.

  “What the hell do you mean, give in to them? I’ll never give in to them! Hell can freeze over ten times and I’ll never let men have the vote. What the hell do you think would happen once they got the vote? Within ten years, we’d have men in government! We’d have men in the Naval Academy! Are you crazy, Sister?”

  Merope tried again. “Sister, all I’m saying is, this rebellion is costing us so much! It would be cheaper to let the Fringe planets have their way in this. We’re spending nearly 10% of our GNP fighting this rebellion. Just the cost of the Naval vessels alone is eating us alive.”

  Miranda slapped the table with the palm of her hand. “I will never give in to these rebels, sister. You are wasting your breath. Now stop wasting my time.”

  Merope rose, nodding. “Yes, Empress-Sister. I hear and I obey.” Merope left the room, nodding to the attendants as she passed out the door. Behind her, she could still hear Miranda muttering under her breath.

  “Remind me never to do that again,” Merope complained bitterly to her friend and companion, Alkippe, waiting outside the reception room. “I thought she was going to take my head.”

  Alkippe commiserated with her. “Well, you tried. You gave her the logical approach. Clearly, she doesn’t want that. So at least we know we’ve done all we can to bring this rebellion to a close.”

  “I never expected her to agree. But I thought she might at least take it under consideration. But I think the only thing she took under consideration was the location of her sword and the width of my neck.”

  Alkippe put her hand on Merope’s shoulder, comforting her. “We’ll never ask her again. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just go fight the war as best we can.”

  Two weeks later, Merope and Alkippe departed Aronte in the cruiser Medusa for a battle cruise to Maia, the center of the Fringe Rebellion. Merope left behind her young daughter to be tutored in swordplay and wrestling. It was the Amazon way.

  Beehive Cluster - Planet Maia

  Eugenius lay just below the crest of the hill, eyes on the long column of tanks below. Headed for the fort at Maeotis, they left a cloud of dust over the road as they clanked slowly along.

  Beside him, young Homeros squinted. "Why don't they use antigrav?" he whispered.

  Eugenius answered in a normal voice. "You don't have to whisper. They can't hear anything over the noise of those big bastards. And they don't use antigrav because of cost. Those things are so heavy, it would take four antigrav pods to lift just one. It's cheaper to use treads, and they stand up to attack a lot better, too."

  Eugenius slid backwards, tugging Homeros along with him, getting out of sight of the ridge top. Then they turned, crouching, and ran back down the hill, until they were hidden by the trees.

  "You sure know a lot about tanks," said Homeros.

  "I ought to," said Eugenius. "I was a slave in one for ten years." They continued down the hill, until they came to a small clearing. There, a dozen of their companions waited, anxious for news. Eugenius gestured as he entered the clearing.

  "They're right where Hypatia said they'd be," he told them. "They'll run into the land mines in about an hour. We need to be well out of here by then."

  Quickly gathering up their kit, the fourteen marched away down the mountain, staying under cover, alert for the drones that sometimes came around.

  From the AEN cruiser Kleitos in orbit above, Weapons Officer Lieutenant Roxana Sappho watched the group moving down the mountainside in her holo. "Shall I open fire, Skipper?" she asked, turning to look at Captain Ligeia Satra standing behind her.

  "No, let them live another ten minutes. Then we'll have them up against that cliff and they won't have any place to run to."

  Roxana grinned. Nobody liked to kill rebels more than Ligeia Satra – except maybe Roxana.

  Ten minutes later, the rebels entered a narrow part of the trail, with one side up against a tall cliff. The other side was treeless - a large field of boulders with a steep slope downward. Roxana opened up with all six railguns and watched with satisfaction as the rebels below were pounded into dust.

  Eugenius huddled behind a huge boulder as the rest of his friends were obliterated. His sandal had broken; he stopped in a line of trees to repair it, when suddenly the world blew up in a storm of dirt and rock. He ducked, folding his hands over his head, as debris rained down through the trees around him. Finally, it stopped; he waited for many minutes until he was sure it was over. Then, carefully, he lifted his head and peered out.

  Nothing was left. On the slope below him, the ground was churned into a mix of dirt, blood and body parts. Eugenius settled back down behind the boulder, hating the Empire with every fiber of his being.

  “I’ll kill them all,” he muttered, again and again. “I’ll kill them all…”

  In orbit, Captain Satra grinned in satisfaction. "That's the end of those rebel bastards," she said to Roxana. "And the same to anyone who thinks men can run a government - or run a ship, for that matter."

  Roxana nodded. "Why can't they just be satisfied? What makes them want to fight us?"

  Satra shook her head. "Who knows what gets into them? But we'll soon put a stop to this equality nonsense."

  Kirsten’s Star - 2,265 lights from Earth

  30 November 2135 - 14 Years after Pandora

  It was a beautiful planet. Amy Tan couldn’t believe they had gotten so lucky.

  “Do you see it, Pete? Look at it!” she exclaimed.

  “I see it, babe. I see it,” said Pete Franklin, gazing out the window of the shuttle as it dropped into the atmosphere. The blue planet below them looked exactly like Earth, except maybe better. No pollution, no bitterness, no wars. Plenty of photosynthetic-based trees and grasses, quite normal plains and oceans and mountains. They had made it.

  Above them, the colony ship Yorkshire turned in orbit, disgorging three more shuttles filled with people, supplies and hope. Pete watched as the pilot directed their shuttle to the chosen colony site, a bay on the smaller eastern ocean. It was well-protected from storms, with plenty of fresh water on the landward side, backed by a tall mountain range to the west. Vast plains of grass covered the miles between the ocean and the mountains, with a forest to the south that could provide timber. To the north, another forest provided some protection from the northerly winds that would come in winter.

  Amy held Gerri in her arms, the three-month old gurgling and spitting up a bit. Amy distractedly wiped with a cloth. Behind them, a dozen of their cohort also beamed out the window, daring to believe that the planet would be everything they hoped for.

  All preliminary surveys had been completed. The atmosphere was virtually identical to Earth. The grass was simply grass. Nothing special about it, easily eaten and digested by the livestock. The trees were a bit different from Earth, but close enough. The timber could be used. No overtly pathological organisms had been found, although undoubtedly some would find a way to become invasive over time. There were some predators, but seemingly nothing larger than a wolf. There was one huge elephant-like creature, but it was placid and non-violent when left alone.

  With a crunch, the shuttle grounded in the area they had designated as a landing zone. The back hatch fell open, and their militia leader, former RDF Seal Commander Neil Douglas, went out with his security team. Even though this was their tenth trip to the surface, and there was already a permanent party camping in the distance, they were taking no chances.

  Pete waited until the others had exited, then took Amy’s hand and led her out of the shuttle. Gerri started to cry about that time, until Amy gave her a pacifier. Happily, Gerri settled in for some serious paci chewing. Pete took it as a good omen.

  Stretching his arms wide, Pete Franklin looked into the blue sky, at the yellow sun near the zenith, a virtual twin of Sol. He sank down to his knees, and with his arms st
ill extended, he closed his eyes and thanked the Creator. Beside him, he felt Amy also kneel, and then he heard and felt the rest of them, all kneeling in awe at the chances given to them for a future.

  Sol System - MarsBase

  Gunner Carlson caught Jake headed for his apartment after a long day. Gunner had a huge smile on his face.

  “We got a confirmation blip from Pete, right on schedule,” he said.

  “Nine months?” asked Jake.

  “Exactly nine months since they launched. Per our agreement, we won’t know when they actually got there, it could have been six months ago or just yesterday. But they got there.”

  “What rating?”

  Before the launch of the Yorkshire – the backup, last-ditch survival strategy for humanity in case of disaster - certain codes had been agreed on. Jake wanted to know as little as possible about the planet the expedition found, but he did want to know that it was a good one. They had settled on a simple rating system – A through F. A was Earth. F was just barely survivable.

  Gunner beamed. “A.”

  “Hot damn,” said Jake. “They threw a winner.”

  “Yep,” said Gunner. “You want the remainder of the code?”

  “You bet,” said Jake. Gunner peered at his tablet. “42.”

  Jake laughed out loud. “Pete and his crazy sense of humor.”

  Gunner grinned even larger. “Yep. The Answer at the End of the Universe. Decoded, it’s “down, established, viable, happy, you owe Gunner a drink.”

  Jake clapped Gunner on the back. “Mr. Chief of Staff, I think it’s time I buy you a drink!”

  Kirsten’s Star – Planet Faraway

  Pete paused the plow, giving himself and the oxen a rest. They could have brought tractors; but tractors require gasoline, and gasoline requires oil, and oil requires exploration and drilling. Things they couldn’t depend on for the long haul. Instead, they had elected to bring only the primitive farming tools of the late 1800’s. The space that tractors would have taken was instead used to store seed and livestock.