by Ken Lozito
Sanctuary
First Colony - Book 4
Ken Lozito
Acoustical Books LLC
Copyright © 2018 by Ken Lozito
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by Acoustical Books, LLC
KenLozito.com
Cover design by Jeff Brown
Editor: Myra Shelley
Proofreader: Victoria Flickinger
If you would like to be notified when my next book is released, SIGN UP HERE
ISBN: 978-1-945223-17-4
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Afterword
About the Author
Also by Ken Lozito
Chapter One
During the year since the Vemus attack, Sanctuary had become a community in its own right. Connor had lived there for the last eight months and it was peaceful without being dull, a bit on the edge, rustic, but most importantly, it didn't have so many reminders of everyone he'd lost. Perhaps this was because of the foreign nature of the alien ruins, which were constructed of a bronze-colored alloy with long ramps that spiraled through most of the city. For some reason, the aliens that built Sanctuary hadn’t constructed anything like stairs, which led some scientists to speculate they must have had very short legs. The rounded architecture was tall enough for Connor to walk through, and some places were large enough to drive through, so Connor wasn’t sure about the whole “short-legged aliens” theory. Those short legs would have had to carry a large body, which led other scientists to believe the aliens were some type of highly-evolved insectoid, but he didn’t put much faith in that theory either. There were plenty of insects on New Earth, just not highly evolved ones. There was, however, an abundance of mammalian life-forms and an ecosystem of carbon-based life that Connor equated as a close cousin of Earth.
Connor spent most of his days in the ruins helping Lenora with her research and had begun to formulate his own theories about the intelligent alien race that had been native to New Earth. But his research duties had always been part-time at best, and he’d slowly transitioned into a point man for exploratory field-ops-type tasks. He’d also become an intermediary for the people living there. Dealing with other people’s problems wasn’t something he relished, but when it came to keeping Sanctuary’s residents safe, he’d rather they came to him.
After the war, he’d had to distance himself from Sierra—and the Colonial Defense Force, in particular—which left him feeling conflicted about walking away from something he’d worked so hard to build. Some days he felt like he’d abandoned the CDF despite knowing that, due to having been exposed to the Vemus Alpha, he’d been unfit for duty when he’d first awakened. The risk of contamination had been much too high, and after the danger had passed, he found it was better if he didn't return to the CDF for his own sake. Despite Ashley's assertions that he was okay, there were people in the colonial government who knew of Connor's exposure and still wondered if there was something latent going on inside him related to the Vemus. It didn't matter that Ashley, the former Chief of Medicine at Sierra, and interim colonial governor had cleared him. He couldn’t blame them since he’d spent quite a few nights dreading the same thing himself.
Connor had proposed the promotion of Nathan Hayes to General of the CDF based on his military career and Nathan’s own actions on Lunar Base that had greatly contributed to the colony’s survival. The colonial government had accepted Connor’s recommendation and Nathan was a fine officer who had done an excellent job with the CDF.
Nathan understood why Connor needed to distance himself, but they’d kept in touch when time allowed. Nathan was a father now and had married Colonel Savannah Cross shortly after the war with the Vemus. It had taken awhile for Savannah to forgive Connor for relieving her of duty, but when their daughter Olivia was born, Savannah let go of her anger toward Connor. In the end, Savannah’s presence during the defense of Sanctuary had been a deciding factor in the survival of a large portion of the colony’s population, and while Connor didn’t believe much in fate, he was still happy with the way things had worked out.
Connor’s wandering thoughts were interrupted as the door to the ATV he was driving opened and Ian Malone climbed in.
“The seismic monitors are fine,” Ian said.
“Matches with the quakes quieting down,” Connor replied, but Ian didn’t look convinced. “What is it?” Connor asked.
“Seismic activity doesn’t usually just stop. It should take some time to settle down first,” Ian said as he slipped into his seat in the ATV.
Connor hated it when Ian did that. Ian was known for speaking only half of what he was thinking, leaving Connor the task of pulling the rest of it out of him.
“Spit it out. How bad could it be? Is Sanctuary at risk?” Connor asked.
As if he’d been pulled from his thoughts, Ian blinked several times and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, it’s possible that pressure could be building, but we’d see evidence of that. The aliens built a geothermal power-tap here because of its proximity to the fault line. Millions of years ago this was likely a supervolcano, or at least had the potential to be one.”
Connor frowned. “Somehow this doesn’t make me feel any better.”
Ian snorted. “Remember Yellowstone National Park?”
Connor nodded.
“Like that.”
“Yeah, but if I recall correctly, Yellowstone was much more active, what with Old Faithful and hot springs,” Connor said.
Ian glanced at him. “You’re really wound up today. Let me be clear. We’re not going to blow up in a supervolcano—at least not today or in the next hundred years . . . probably.”
“Thanks,” Connor said. He glanced at the controls on the dashboard before setting off again and noted that the engine batteries were down to a thirty-percent charge—not ideal for a supply run to the remote caches but far from dangerously low.
In the eight years since he'd lived on New Earth, he’d taken so many things for granted about the sheer raw beauty of their home—humanity's home now since there was no one left back on Earth. Some scientists held out hope that there could still be people who had successfully stayed hidden from the Vemus on Earth, but Connor didn’t believe it. The Vemus had been a ruthless, efficient weapon that had grown beyond its creator’s control.
Though he kept his distance from the rebuilding of Sierra, he’d still been apprised of the latest theories for how the Vemus had survived the journey to reach New Earth—a combination of suspended animation and consumption of biological resources for the long
voyage, which was science-speak for the Vemus cannibalizing themselves in order to survive. Connor had been around enough scientists to know they couldn’t help their curiosity, but he’d rather forget one of mankind’s darkest chapters.
Connor set the ATV at a comfortable pace as they drove down the path to the next supply cache. They were fifty kilometers from Sanctuary and heading farther afield for this supply run. Supply caches had been set up for remote teams to use when fieldwork prevented them from returning to Sanctuary, and routine checks were required since some of the local fauna had taken to raiding the caches on occasion. These small, rodent-sized, nocturnal raiders were highly adept at sniffing out improperly secured caches. Connor had seen images of the pesky critters. They were brown, furry creatures with large rounded eyes and hands that were similar to humans but with only four fingers plus the claws. Most wild creatures on New Earth had claws that were incredibly tough.
Ian settled back and pulled his wide-brimmed hat over his face in order to nap. Connor could have engaged the auto-drive function of the ATV but preferred to drive it himself, and he liked the quiet.
For the past eight years he'd been consumed with the Vemus threat, and now that he finally had a moment's peace he couldn’t understand why the hell he was so restless. These past months living with Lenora were among the happiest of his life. Since being reunited, they had connected on a much deeper level than he’d ever anticipated. So why was he still haunted by nightmares? Sometimes he dreamed he was stuck in a sea of Vemus sludge while Wayne's combat suit stared at him, lifeless and intimidating, like the Flying Dutchman emerging from the gloom. Dark shapes of Vemus soldiers surrounded him and he was alone, suffocating. Just when he felt he couldn't take it anymore, he’d wake up with a gasp, shocked and sweaty. He had scars—the ones you couldn't see. He wouldn’t have been able to face what he'd faced and walk away unscathed.
Lenora had her share of nightmares, but she tackled things a bit differently than he did. She had her research to focus on and Connor helped her with that. The work they were doing at Sanctuary—learning all they could about the intelligent indigenous species that had mysteriously disappeared—was more than enough to stimulate their imaginations. Lenora had been right. What they were doing here suited him, but at the same time he felt a growing frustration in the back of his mind.
A large group of people had elected to stay at Sanctuary after they could have returned to the main colonial encampments. Even so, Sanctuary wasn't a huge community, but it was close-knit. Most of the people who stayed just wanted to live on the fringes. Connor thought that some of them, like himself, didn’t want to be reminded of what they’d lost, and he couldn’t blame them. He’d committed himself to making sure those who lived in their community were as safe as possible, which sometimes led to him stepping on a few toes.
There was a lot of rebuilding and resurgence going on in the colonial cities, and cleanup efforts near the Lunar Base were almost complete. The derelict Vemus ships and large pieces of wreckage had been put on a course to intercept the sun. That way, nature would take over and none of the Vemus would survive to threaten humanity ever again.
Sometimes he thought about the billions of lives that had been lost back on Earth. Was it an accident of fate that those on New Earth had survived? Connor didn't think so. They'd stood upon the shoulders of giants and were able to claw a victory from certain death. When he stopped and thought about it, which he often did, it was a miracle they were still alive despite all they'd endured. He supposed the fact that they'd come here to New Earth and found something to help with their fight against the Vemus would be construed as providence by some, but Connor didn't necessarily agree with that. They’d put the pieces together and then done the work. Regardless, it had been a close thing, and no one would ever forget it.
He'd seen the rebuilding efforts going on at Sierra. Ashley was an excellent governor, though her term would be up within a few months and they would elect a new colonial governor. Ashley often complained about serving as governor, and her tenure had been intended as a temporary solution, but the fact of the matter was that if she chose to put her hat in the pot, she’d garner a lot of support from the colonists. She claimed that she wasn't Tobias, who’d been excellent at his job, but perhaps her long-term marriage to Tobias including during his two terms as governor had rubbed off on her. But Connor didn't think Ashley, whose first love was her career as a physician, would run a campaign to hold onto the governor’s office, so there would be a few new candidates for the coming election. Connor had even received a small number of messages suggesting that he put his candidacy forward which he refused to even consider. He didn't want to run things. He’d served his time, both here at the colony and before he came to New Earth. This was his time now, his new beginning to make his life what he wanted it to be. And what he wanted was to live quietly, or as quietly as he could with an archaeologist who loved to discover and explore.
For the next forty minutes, Connor kept the ATV on course following the winding pathway to the supply cache. Ian snored next to him, completely oblivious. This far from Sanctuary the lands were heavily forested. Occasionally, he heard sharp blasts of air from the landrunners that sometimes made their paths through the forests instead of sticking to the wide-open plains. He glanced to the side and saw their thick, muscular bodies covered in long shaggy brown hair. The biggest of the group swung its head toward the ATV. The short tentacles along its mouth gave it a bearded look. The landrunner blew out a blast of air and several more came from around the trees to look at the ATV while Connor drove past. He didn’t worry about them attacking. The landrunners’ greatest strength was the high speed they were capable of due to their exceptionally long legs.
Connor left them behind and checked the recon drones on patrol. They would note whether any local predators were in the area and provide data updates to Field Ops. An occasional pack of berwolfs would move through the area, but they rarely came close to Sanctuary—with one notable exception. Lenora had cared for a berwolf cub she'd named Bull. Bull was now fully grown and moved with the agility of a wolf but was the size of a grizzly bear. The drones had shown Bull traveling with his own pack and his visits to Sanctuary were becoming less frequent.
Incredibly, the berwolves had actually attacked the Vemus during the assault on Sanctuary. Connor guessed they were natural enemies of sorts, or it could have been because of Bull’s loyalty to Lenora; either way, Connor was thankful for the animals’ actions. According to his friend Noah, it had been a very close thing.
The recon drones’ status updates showed that there were no ryklars in the area. After their initial brush with the ryklars when they'd first pulled Connor out of stasis all those years ago, the colony had only needed deterrence systems to keep them away from the settlements. Once the ultrahigh-frequency signals that had drawn them to Sanctuary were suppressed, the ryklars had migrated away from colonial settlements, following the herds and essentially acting like normal predators.
An alert appeared on the ATV’s heads-up display indicating they were approaching the beacon for the supply cache and rousing Ian from his slumber. A comlink call chimed on the ATV’s HUD.
“Connor here.”
“Hey, Connor,” Chloe said. “I hate to bother you, but we've got an overdue survey team that’s not far from you and I was hoping you could check it out.”
Field Ops maintained a small squad at Sanctuary, but they were short-staffed and Connor had been called on more than one occasion to help with these sorts of requests.
“I thought Ramsey was on duty in the area. Can he check it out?” Connor replied.
“He was, but he's escorting another team and they're pretty far away. We received a distress beacon with a vehicle tracking ID of AC-217,” Chloe said, then paused.
The tracking ID indicated it was an ATV assigned to Lenora’s team, but Connor knew Lenora was working in the alien archives back at Sanctuary.
“It's Dash DeWitt's ID tag in the dist
ress call,” Chloe continued.
Connor blew out a breath. Dash, he thought and groaned. “I get it, Chloe. Send me the coordinates and we’ll go check it out.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Normally I'd hate to bother you with this, but you did say you wanted to know if Dash gets into trouble again,” Chloe said with a hint of amusement.
Connor massaged his forehead. “I know, and we’ll see what's going on.”
He closed the comlink and Ian rubbed his eyes.
“Well, I take it we're not going to stop at the supply cache, then,” Ian said.
“No, we can stop there,” Connor said and looked at the report Chloe had sent over. It was just an automated distress signal and any number of things could have happened to trip it off. Dash knew better than to not call it in though, which made Connor wonder if there was just a problem with the ATV's comms system.
“That kid always seems to find trouble,” Ian said.
“Don’t I know it,” Connor agreed.
Dash DeWitt was a student archaeologist eager to make a name for himself.
“I wonder what he's up to now,” Ian said and took a sip of water from his canteen. “Last time, he thought they'd found another site of undiscovered buildings.”
“He's eager to prove himself, which would be fine if he wasn’t so reckless,” Connor said.
“So says every father, and I’m sure Dash’s father said the same thing on more than one occasion,” Ian said.
