by M. R. Forbes
Declaration
Forgotten Colony, Book Five
M.R. Forbes
Published by Quirky Algorithms
Seattle, Washington
This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by M.R. Forbes
All rights reserved.
Cover illustrations by Tom Edwards
tomedwardsdesign.com
Chapter 1
Governor Jackson Stone rolled through the hospital, his eyes still red and puffy from the time he had spent with Beth. She was in shock. Traumatized. Emotionally broken. She couldn’t see him. Couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t speak. Seeing her that way broke his heart. It was too much for her, too fast. Losing their daughter. Losing their safety. Watching good men and women die.
And it was his fault—all of it. From the moment he decided to blame the few surviving Space Force Marines for the lies his grandfather had told. From the moment his old man had chosen to forget the real history of Metro and he had altered it in a way that stopped the civil war.
It had never occurred to him, not in the slightest, that the Deliverance would ever reach its destination while he was alive. A large part of him was convinced it would never reach its destination at all. He had gotten trapped by the lie. He had succumbed to the fear of the colony turning on him, rejecting him and possibly killing him for his deception. He had blamed Sergeant Card and the Guardians. He had pushed them off the ship.
And when the enemy came, the way the sergeant had said they would, his Deliverance Defense Force was powerless to stop them.
Maybe there was nothing Sergeant Card could have done. Their weapons were inferior compared to the Inahri blasters. Their rounds had barely scratched the bulky battle armor the enemy wore, let alone penetrated them, even at weaker joints. Would his presence have made a difference? Or would he be dead now too, like most of the inaugural members of the DDF and the sheriffs and deputies in Metro Law?
He shook his head. He had to stop. He was lying to himself again. Trying to make excuses for his failures. There was no excuse. Over a week had gone by between the Guardian’s fleeing the ship and Sergeant Harai’s arrival. A week Sergeant Card and his Marines, Washington and —what was the woman’s name again?—Flores could have spent training as many able-bodied individuals as Metro could provide. He had seen how the sergeant had taken on Harai in the armory beneath Law. They had gone head-to-head, hand-to-hand, battle armor against whatever the black suit some of the Inahri wore was called. The battle armor was more powerful, but Card had still managed to get a blade through it and into Harai’s chest. He had nearly killed the man Jackson was more afraid of than anyone he had ever met.
And Jackson had sent him away.
“Governor,” someone said from somewhere to his left, dragging him out of his thoughts.
He turned his head. Sheriff Zane was coming toward him, wearing his uniform. Jackson flinched at the sight of him. He knew the black suits let the wearer somehow pretend to be someone else. Was this the real Zane?
“Harold?” he said. He didn’t think the black suit let them read the person’s mind. He hoped not.
“Hector,” Sheriff Zane corrected, reaching him. “I went to check on you. Doc told me you were awake. She told me…” He trailed off. Jackson hated the pity in the sheriff’s eyes.
“My legs are paralyzed,” Jackson said. “Useless, at least for now. Wipe that look off your face, Sheriff. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Sir?”
“You’re wearing your uniform. Does that mean you’ve been cleared for duty?”
“Yes, sir. Even if I weren’t, I’d be here. It sounds like Metro needs every available officer up and on the job.”
“That’s absolutely right. And you might be the only sheriff left in this place. What do you know about what happened?”
He paused, looking around the corridor. The place was nearly deserted. Everyone healthy had been sent to their cubes to wait out the trouble. The few doctors and nurses who had to stay were busy caring for the wounded and sick.
“The Relyeh turned on us,” Zane said. “Like Joe King was afraid they would. Did you find Joe?”
“Yes...well. Doctor Valentine got to him first. She got the energy unit, and she gave it to Harai. She sold us out to the enemy.”
Jackson clenched his jaw. Hadn’t he sold them out to the enemy first? She had only completed the job he had started. It was painful to accept.
This was his fault.
“Sergeant Card came back to the ship to help us. Or to get the energy unit. Maybe it would have been the same thing. She was with him. He convinced our officers to fight back against the enemy. They managed to beat two of them too. I’m proud of them for that. And he had Harai dead to rights. If she hadn’t betrayed him, we might have won.”
“Won? I thought you wanted them to take the unit and leave us in peace.”
“I did. But then I saw how the sergeant was able to stand up to them, and how loyal the officers were to him. They wanted to fight for the colony, not trade it in for survival.” He paused. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Sheriff. I’m sorry about that.”
Zane looked at him like he was crazy. Jackson didn’t blame the man. He had never apologized to anyone other than his wife. It wasn’t part of who he was.
Who he had been.
The situation had changed, and he had to change with it if he was going to see the colony survive. He couldn’t afford to be selfish. The cost was too high.
“You did the best you could, Governor,” Zane said.
“No, but I intend to. I want you to go to the mansion and meet with DDF. Get them to send whoever they have door-to-door through every cube. I want every able-bodied colonist who’s willing to fight to gather in South Park. Even if they aren’t able-bodied. If they’re good at sims, I want them there. We need pilots too. No age requirements.”
“No age requirements? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Not at all. I don’t want to kill young people, but if we don’t do something, they’re going to die anyway.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.”
“I want them assembled in three hours, Sheriff.”
“Three hours? Sir, that’s impossible.”
“Tell them to make it possible. We don’t have time to waste.”
“Yes, Governor.”
“Once you’re done there, head to Law and do the same. I don’t know how many people we have left, but I want them regrouped and ready to start training.”
“Training?”
“We don’t have Sergeant Card and his Marines to help us. Law has the most combat training of anyone on the ship, as basic as it may be compared to real military. We have to work with what we’ve got.”
“Understood, Governor.”
“Where did you see Rathbone last?”
“Around the corner, sir. She’s treating a POW.”
“POW?”
“Prisoner of war, sir. The woman who was with Card. They took him and left her for dead. She’s plenty beat up, but she’s going to survive.”
Jackson raised his eyebrow. He hadn’t figured they would have captured one of them. Maybe he could find out what all of this was about.
“Get moving, Sheriff. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Yes, Governor.”
“Three hours.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sheriff Zane nodded and turned back the way he had come, rushing for the lift at the end of the corridor. Jackson followed behind him, turning the corner and rolling down another long hal
lway. It wasn’t hard to find the room Rathbone and the Inahri prisoner were in. It was the only one that was occupied.
He paused at the closed door. He could hear Rathbone speaking quietly, but he didn’t hear anyone responding. He glanced down at himself, suddenly aware that he wasn’t wearing any pants.
He would have preferred to meet the woman on his feet, fully dressed, proud and confident. A powerful representation of both Metro and Earthkind. Not like this. Not disabled and weak, scruffy and dirty and in need of a shower. He held back for a moment, considering holding off on the introduction. It didn’t sound like the prisoner was awake, anyway.
He had given Zane three hours. That didn’t leave much time for anything, and they still had so much to do. Besides, he had put too much emphasis on his appearance in the past. He had made people bend their knee to him like he was the King of the World.
Right now, he felt more like the Royal Fool.
He didn’t need fake fealty. He didn’t need pomp and procedure. Not anymore.
Their predicament was his fault, and he was going to do everything in his power to make it right. Even if the colony failed, at least he would know he had tried.
He didn’t need his legs for that. He didn’t even need pants.
Chapter 2
Jackson pushed through the door into the room, shoving it aside with his dead legs. Doctor Rathbone was in the room with one of her nurses, and they both looked up as he rolled in, surprised to see him.
“Governor,” Rathbone said. “What are you doing here?”
“I went to see Beth,” he replied. “She’s in bad shape.”
“I know. I tried to warn you.”
“Forget about that. Sheriff Zane told me we have a prisoner?”
“If you want to call her that. She was working with Sergeant Card. Her name is Tsi.”
Jackson glanced over at the bed. Tsi was either asleep or in a coma. Her eyes were closed, the heart rate monitor beeping slowly but steadily. Her head was shaved, a large patch covering an apparent wound to her temple. She was an Inahri like Harai, the first female face he had seen. The proportions of it left him a little uncomfortable. He still wasn’t used to dealing with aliens.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Stable,” Rathbone replied. “She had wounds to her head, shoulder, and leg. The blasters the enemy use cause third-degree burns and pretty much melt anything the bolts pass through. Maybe their tech can repair all of the damage, but ours can’t. She’s lucky she only lost soft tissue and not muscle or bone. She should make a full recovery.”
Jackson’s jaw clenched. She was hit three times, once in the head, and she was going to make a full recovery? He had been hit once, and now he was paralyzed.
“Is she sleeping or in a coma?”
“Drug-induced sleep. It helps accelerate the healing process of the patches.”
“Can you wake her up?”
“Governor, I think it’s best to let her rest.”
“The enemy is gone, Cynthia. For the moment. They might come back in an hour, or they might never come back at all. We have no idea. Which means every second is valuable. She has information that might also be valuable, and I want it.”
“Sir?”
Jackson glared at Rathbone. He could tell she didn’t want to wake Tsi because she didn’t trust what he would do with her. Or to her. Tsi had helped Sergeant Card, and like it or not, so had the doctor.
“We can’t pretend we’re safe here. Not anymore. I tried to deny the truth of the situation, and this is where it’s gotten us. I know you helped Sergeant Card. You and Sheriff Dante both. I could throw you in a cell as a traitor. I could send you off to die like I did with Sam. Beth is in pieces because of me. My legs are useless because of me. Law is in tatters because of me. You and Sam were right. I thought I could handle it. I can’t. If I could bring Sam back here to help I would. I hope she’s still alive.”
He had forgotten about Sheriff Dante before he said it. Forgotten how he had cast her out with a group of other misfit soldiers he didn’t care for, along with that pilot who had a direct bloodline to one of Card’s original squad members.
What the hell was he thinking?
“For whatever it’s worth, Cynthia. I’m sorry.”
Rathbone and her nurse stared at him the same way Sheriff Zane had. It wasn’t in him to apologize. But then, being himself was the worst thing he could do.
“Did you lose more than just your legs, Governor?” Rathbone asked.
“Maybe I gained something,” he replied. “A little more perspective into the will of the people and what my job really is.”
“Does that mean you’ll stop being such an asshole?”
The nurse gasped, looking at the doctor in fear. In the past, a statement like that would have gotten someone thrown in prison for a few days. Things had changed drastically since then. They had changed drastically in the last twenty-four hours.
“I’m doing my best,” Jackson replied. “I need her awake. Especially if she was working with Sergeant Card. She knows the enemy, and we need that more than anything right now.”
Rathbone nodded. “Lin, can you get the adrenaline?”
“Yes, Doctor Rathbone,” the nurse replied. She slipped past Jackson and out of the room.
“This isn’t a trick?” Rathbone said when she was gone. “You weren’t visited by three ghosts while you were unconscious, were you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“A Christmas Carol? It’s one of the most popular vids in the datastore.”
Jackson smiled. He had seen it. “Right. No. No ghosts. Watching my people die was much more effective.”
Rathbone’s face stiffened. “You’re right.”
Jackson rolled over to Tsi’s bedside, getting a closer look at her face and trying to become more comfortable with it. There was a certain delicateness to the features that he found interesting. He focused on that. They weren't really all that different. They were both originally from Earth. And didn’t every human want the same things? Food, shelter, freedom, family. Didn’t every human feel love, compassion, sympathy, empathy, anger, hate?
Nurse Lin returned to the room with a syringe. She passed it to Rathbone, who approached Tsi on the other side of the bed.
“We did complete scans on her,” she said. “They look almost human because they are human. DNA is a ninety-nine point nine-five percent match. Everything else is the same. Organs, skin, fingernails, teeth, you name it. Their bodies evolved differently due to their environment. We think gravity is even lower on their homeworld. Maybe nine zero?”
Sergeant Harai had already told him about the Inahri’s origins. About how the Axon had taken them from Earth. But he hadn’t mentioned anything about another world. “This isn’t their homeworld?”
“It’s unlikely,” Rathbone said. “This planet is too much like Earth to explain the differences in their general evolution.”
“Interesting, but not overly helpful at the moment. Give her the drug.”
Rathbone sank the needle into the IV connected to the back of Tsi’s hand, emptying the contents. There was no change for the first few minutes. Then her eyes slowly came open.
Tsi looked at Rathbone first, recognizing her. Then she turned her head, eyes widening in surprise and fear when she saw Jackson.
“It’s okay,” Jackson said, keeping his voice as calm and level as he could. “You’re okay.”
She calmed slightly. “Za Caleb?” she said.
He didn’t know what za meant, but he understood she was asking about Sergeant Card. He shook his head. “Taken.”
“Shem?” she said. He guessed by the inflection she was asking him what he meant.
“Taken,” he repeated. He motioned with his hands, putting them together and then throwing them away.
She made a face. She didn’t understand him.
“Do you speak English?” he asked. She had communicated with Caleb somehow, and Harai spoke English t
hrough the Relyeh Advocate. Did the Free Inahri have similar help?
“Shem?” she said again.
“Maybe you should let her rest,” Rathbone suggested.
“She was communicating with Caleb. She must speak English. Unless he learned to speak their language in a few days?”
“Come to think of it, she did say a few words in English when she came through with Sergeant Card,” Rathbone said.
“Are you holding out on us?” Jackson asked Tsi. “You know how to speak our language, don’t you?”
She stared at him blankly.
“Damn it. Talk to us.”
“Wobu mingni,” she said, getting agitated back at him.
“This isn’t helping, Governor,” Rathbone said.
“She was working with Sergeant Card,” Jackson insisted. “How?”
Rathbone nodded. “They were both wearing those black suits. She only spoke English when she had it over her head.”
“The suit was translating for her?”
“That’s probably right.”
Jackson looked at Tsi again and nodded. “Okay. Wait.” He put up a hand and smiled, trying to look friendly. Then he looked at Rathbone again.
“What happened to the suit?”
Chapter 3
It took almost an hour to get a hold of Faith N’yongo, the Senior Engineer who had unofficially taken up the role of Chief Engineer in Joe and Carol King’s absences. An older woman—overweight, outspoken, with a quick wit and a contagious, positive spirit—she was the Kings’ go-to engineer when there was an especially challenging problem to solve.
It didn’t take a long time to find her because she was hiding. The opposite was true. Rathbone had sent the alien black bodysuit to her shortly after Tsi was brought in, and while they had expected to find her in her cube examining the tech, she had taken it to Engineering instead, regardless of how safe it was to go back there.
“Better equipment, better results,” she had said to Jackson after they had finally tracked her down and gotten a message to her to bring the suit to the hospital.
