Sam Cane: Hard Setdown

by T Q Chant

A deep, unsteady breath. “I think maybe only a hundred or so went with my father willingly. They took others, those who refused to submit, but I do not know whether they have been...broken.”

  “And those...left behind?”

  “Those my father decided would not ever submit, or were not required for his great work.” The last two words were spat out with hatred and contempt. “They were killed...”

  “As an example to the others?”

  “Or to break their family members. Destroy them with grief.”

  “It is a religion, isn’t it?”

  “I...I think so.”

  Sam fought back a shudder. She’d known plenty of faithfolk (including one of the mothers), usually people of quiet, private belief in one thing or another. The organised, established religions were long gone though, swept away in the Fed Wars and the Meltdown when it became obvious what a threat they were to humanity surviving or getting off Mother Earth. A handful still crept about on the fringes of society, as Sam well knew – she’d crossed paths with one of those dregs of the past, and even that slight contact had driven her from her home and her old life. One had obviously taken thorough root here – spiritual belief could run strong out here on the edge. Something in the human spirit that looked out into the darkness beyond the flickering but expanding light of the expansion and sought some greater or deeper meaning in it.

  There was still no sound of a search party and Sam was minded to catch her breath for a while. She was torn about what to do next – keep moving, staying ahead of the ‘law’, or hunker down and hope they would go unnoticed for a while, maybe be forgotten about.

  She shook that thought off – rule #12 was something about not waiting for the best case scenario.

  “So she could bring a much larger group of colonists?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the others have...have died. Or haven’t converted yet. There are the other people on the planet, though, and I have no idea how many they are.”

  Sam pinched the skin between her eyebrows and kneaded it. That headache was starting again. “Ok – start from the fucking beginning, would you?”

  “Are you sure?”

  She slid a packet of water across to the girl. “Now’s as good a time as any. Plus rule six, you know?”

  “I'm afraid not.” The girl – young woman, really, barely younger than Sam – looked at her quizzically. “Who are you, Samrit?”

  Strange change of jSpace plot, but Sam coasted with it like the pro she was. Adisa’s sanity was obviously hanging by a thread, probably couldn’t take too much more pressure. Any good scammer knew when not to apply pressure.

  And, honestly, Sam was tired of lying.

  “I am – I was – fuck, I don’t know. I was a grifter, a scam artist. Not a bad one, either, but I got cocky or unlucky or both and got caught. I was given the choice of a slamhole or the green machine, took the latter and spent a year counting boxes of bullets and ratpacks.”

  “I do not understand all of this. You are from Earth?”

  It should have occurred to Sam before – given Adisa’s age it was quite possible she’d been born right here, never really knowing anything but the frontier life. “Yep, homeworld born and bred. Subcon Federation and NorSeA for the most part. And I don’t have time to tell you what it’s like – I’ll take you there someday.”

  “You left the Army for the Corp?”

  “I got bored working supply, started to run a scam, syphoning gear and bullets to an outside group. Was doing pretty well out of it as well, but we got caught. They booted me but I had the right sort of skills at that point to sign on for security with a corporation that thinks background checks are an unnecessary cost.”

  It was mostly the truth, minus a few details Adisa didn’t need to hear right now. It was also ancient history, nothing that would help them stay alive.

  “I need to know how many people we’re going to be facing off against here.”

  Adisa’s face crumpled, and Sam realised she was looking at the death of Adisa's hope. “I don't know. There must have been a colony here before us, or something.”

  “Wildcat colonies aren’t unheard of.”

  “They must have been here a long time, but they hid from us, right from the initial surveys to the setdown through the growth.”

  “And then all of a sudden they decided to attack you?”

  “I think they must have been watching us, learning about us, for years. I’ve looked in the colony databanks, there are some mentions of mysterious disappearances before. Maybe they just decided we were...ready.”

  “So there could be thousands of the fuckers out there?”

  “Maybe no more than a few thousand. Surely we would have detected something if there were more?”

  “You’d have hoped the Corp would have picked up a whole other colony of religious nutters before setdown.” Sam eyed another patch of painkillers, but knew she needed to keep her brain sharp for at least another little while. “We can’t fight them.”

  “You were a soldier.”

  “I was a supply clerk with a shiny uniform.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Hide until help comes.” She tried to inject confidence into her voice. “The sat is down, fair enough. We’re still due supply runs, and you never know, someone might decide to pay an unscheduled visit and come close enough to pick up a transmission.” She stared at the chilli peppers ripening on the plant across from her. Those she knew, and the thought of them made her mouth water. The thought of anything that had flavour and a non-woody texture, really. “Just wish there was a way to get a message out.”

  “My father preserved the original jSpace comms system when it was replaced with the satellite.” A faint smile. “I think he was already thinking in terms of a museum.” The smile disappeared. “That was...before, though.”

  Sam could have kissed her then but tamped down on her excitement. She’d need to take a good look at the system, see if it even had power, and she’d need to do some serious research about how to operate it.

  She kept her voice level. “Best show me where this facility is.”

  **********

  ICG-187 was a third-gate colony world; it had gone beyond being an exploration waystation and then the second gate of an initial small run of founding families. It had an orbital presence and the means to maintain it, both in terms of expertise and equipment. It probably wasn’t that far off passing the fourth gate, which would get it a name and infrastructure support to found new settlements, a new glut of enthusiastic colonists seeking a new life, or less enthusiastic ones desperate to get away from the old.

  Or it would have been if someone hadn’t started beheading the colonists.

  “Most places would have stripped and cannibalised something like this,” Sam commented, standing in the dim, dusty control room of the second-gate jSpace comms array.

  “I was very young when we received the orbital systems – I vaguely remember the celebrations – but I think they might have taken some parts.”

  It had taken them most of the rest of the day to work their way here. Sam had moved cautiously even when they were underground, keeping Adisa close. The tunnels had only taken them so far and after that it had been a question of crawling through hab units to stay below the level of the broad windows and then dashing quickly from one door to the next. At least they hadn’t had to worry about the holopixer systems – the final part of Adisa’s job had been to squirt a Trojan from Sam’s virtual armoury into the network to scramble it.

  Sam didn’t even want to think of the nerve-tearing fear of the last stretch, sprinting out of the back of the last building and up over a dune, rolling over the crest as she’d been taught in basic infantry training and then the hike to the barely-marked entrance to the secure bunker. The facility had been carved into one of the broken mesa that backed the colony site, four klicks west of the township. Sam’s pad hadn’t made short work of the security lock
on the door, but only because it was so out of date and dilapidated; she'd finished the job with a boot heel and none of her usual sophistication.

  Now she was looking at the wretched state of the equipment and trying to work out what the hell was needed to run it. The enormous datastacks on her pad were some help, the history section containing vast quantities of data, but she was no engineer and nothing would entirely match up with the basic plans. Every colony had to make adjustments, repairs, jury rigs.

  “Saskia would love this,” she muttered, forgetting she was not alone. “Always had an eye for an antiquities scam.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not sure she’d like the smell, though.”

  “Who is Saskia?” Adisa asked from where she was rummaging around under one of the control boards. Sam glanced across and allowed herself a moment to enjoy the way Adisa’s jumpsuit pulled tight across her backside as she folded herself under the console. Behave yourself, Cane. At least until this is over.

  Adisa pulled out a solid-state board, made a noise of disgust after a quick inspection, and discarded it.

  “An old partner,” Sam said shortly, aware of the many connotations of that word. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”

  “My brother liked virtuality. I like getting my hands into the guts of machines.”

  Sam noted the terribly cold way Adisa referred to Okafor. “That makes the whole thing more promising, as I know fuck all about this.”

  “You can force a safe open.”

  “Criminal,” Sam sniffed. She didn’t like using the word – had never really thought of herself as a crook, not really; not a dangerous one anyway, just one who took from people who had too much and probably wouldn’t miss a few extras trinkets and baubles. People who were greedy enough that they’d go for the shiny fake bauble she’d dangled in front of them, even though they already had plenty.

  “What is that smell? Some sort of wild animal?”

  “I cannot smell anything. There’s no native fauna to speak of around here – just the birds.”

  “You sure? Saw something on the roof of the admin building, first day in this shithole. And the smell is just like the night I chased you through the warehouse.”

  “You didn’t chase me into the warehouse.”

  “OK, all right – the night I followed you into the warehouse.”

  “When you found the heads? No, I wasn’t there. I was watching, but I wasn’t in there.”

  “Then what the fuck has been creeping around the site? One of Cho’s people?”

  “I do not think so – I did not see anyone else. Some of the other colonists, before...before we were attacked, reported what seemed to be larger local animals. We all thought they were mad, but maybe something new really has moved into the area.”

  “Timing is a little convenient, but it’s a big galaxy. Rule fifty-eight – there really are coincidences.” Sam shrugged, dismissing it. There was nothing she could do about it now.

  “We’re going to need some parts,” Adisa commented, her tone conversational as she emerged from under the console. Sam was beginning to get used to her sudden and unsignalled changes in direction. “I’ll start making a list.”

  “What about power?”

  “Solar. The panels will be buried by now, though. Father used to talk about how hard it had been to keep them clear of the sand.”

  “Beats me why they put them so far out from the main colony.” They’d trekked for almost an hour over the baking sands beyond the circle of the green around the colony.

  “In case the main site was hit from orbit. Plus the gauss systems would cause problems for other electronics. They’re pretty powerful.” That last was said with a note of relish, the first emotion other than fear or desperation she’d heard in Adisa's voice. No doubt she’d enjoy seeing the system firing.

  She emerged from under the panel, face smudged with dirt but oddly cheerful. Sam was struck by what a pretty young woman she was, high chiselled cheekbones under dark skin, straight thin nose and full lips. Dark, expressive eyes that had obviously seen too much tragedy.

  Behave.

  “What do we need to get this thing working?”

  The cheerful expression went. “Parts from the systems in the admin building.”

  “And we’ll need to dig out the solar panels last thing – anything above ground could be spotted. Plus that’s going to be fucking hot work, so we probably want to do it at night.” Adisa was running her hands over the control panel in a possessive fashion. “What happens when we fire this thing, anyway?”

  A brilliant smile shot her way. “You’ll see!”

  **********

  “Should not have split up,” Sam muttered under her breath as she filled water pouches from a tap in one of the outermost hab units. Even in such a small settlement, a hierarchy had obviously developed as these outer units were considerably shabbier than those further in, although they were newer. They caught the brunt of the wind and sun, and were quite obviously where the lowest grades in the colony lived.

  They still had running water, which was all Sam really cared about. She’d seen, indeed lived in, shittier areas – particularly when she’d been on a scam.

  They’d spent the last two days engaged in a subtle game with Cho and her minions. The Marshal had brought in five more, three men and two women, all of them armed but with a mishmash of simple chemically-fired hardslug weapons like Okafor’s carbine. Including Cho, that meant the opposition was eight strong, leaving Sam and Adisa outnumbered and outgunned. It was still a big site for eight people to secure, so it was probably only a matter of time before reinforcements arrived.

  Sam and Adisa had done everything they could to prep the jSpace array, scavenging parts from the outer hab units first, going out at night to clear at least some of the sand off the solar panels. Sam would have been happier if they could dig all the way down and ensure they were fully functional, but that wasn’t an option. They lived in the old, early-colony bunker, only ever coming out at night.

  They’d reached a crunch point, though. Supplies were running low, particularly water, at the same time that Adisa had done everything she could without acquiring some specialist parts from the admin building. They’d had a full-on argument about who would go for what, but hard truths had won out and Adisa had gone for the Admin. She knew what parts were needed and could identify them quickly, and she knew the area like the back of her hand.

  Sam still wasn’t comfortable with leaving her to it, but the less time they spent onsite the happier both of them would be.

  Last pouch was full, giving them another few days of water. The next couple of days would be thirsty work, but right now she had to stay focused on the job of getting an emergency message out. Then she could work out how they’d stay alive for the weeks before a rescue ship came.

  “I’ve got everything,” Adisa’s voice whispered in her ear. Sam had created a private tac channel for the two of them. The local tac channel was dead, Cho and her people either communicating directly or using another private channel. The Marshal was obviously messed up, but sadly she hadn’t lost the plot entirely. “I am heading to...”

  “I know where you’re going,” Sam snapped, cutting her off. She couldn’t guarantee the channel remained private.

  Cho’s voice cut across any reply. Sam dropped to her belly, scrabbling for her weapon, before she realised the Marshal was using the colony’s PA system.

  “Sam, Adisa,” came the magnified and slightly distorted voice. “I wanted to ask you again to give up this foolishness. Adisa, your brother and father are worried about you. Sam, I know we got off on the wrong foot but I’m pretty sure we can work this out. You must be running out of supplies by now, and I don’t know what you think you can achieve. Just come in and we’ll work this out.”

  Sam lay there on the dusty floor, waiting for her heart rate and breathing to calm down. At least Cho’s words indicated that she made this appeal frequently, su
ggesting she didn’t know the fugitives were basing themselves outside the site and wasn’t making a special announcement because their entry had been detected. Sam had blocked the channels Cho used to try to contact her.

  “Sam, one of them is in the comms room.” Adisa’s voice was desperate, tiny. Sam could only guess where she was hiding. “I am cut off from the exit.”

  “Stay where you are,” Sam whispered into her mike and then, moving in a crouch, crept out of the apartment. “I’m coming to you.”

  The entrance hall was a narrow strip of plas sheet, scuffed and peeling in one corner despite the relative youth of the building. The space was dim but offered no cover. Shafts of light came in through clear panels in the door. Pausing in the breathless silence, she could smell something gone foul, probably in one of the upper storey apartments. She didn’t want to think about what that could be, content to assume it was rotten food.

  A strange murmuring crackled over the PA system, and then a new voice spoke. Sam recognised Okafor’s voice, but it lacked any of the humanity that had characterised it when she had spoken with the boy.

  “Adisa, it’s me. It’s Okafor. Please stop this, before you are hurt. Please. They have promised that you will go to the bright place and have your sins redeemed, and they have promised I will go with you. We will be made anew. Please, Adi. For me.”

  “Adisa, you do not move your bony arse until I get there, you get me?” Sam whispered. No movement beyond the door of the hab unit, so she took a risk and piled through it, keeping low as she dashed across to the next building.

  There must be someone in the admin building to patch Cho and Okafor into the PA system (regs required a cut out between civil administration and security systems). Cho, Okafor and the others were probably out on the prowl, hoping the two of them would either see the light and willingly walk into the bright place or be so unnerved that they would give themselves away and be dragged there.

  Sidling to the edge of the next building, Sam got a clear view towards the centre of the settlement. Cho and Okafor were in front of the security building, Cho with her issue helmet on. There was another goon in front of the admin building, plus the one Adisa had reported in the control room.