The Colonists (The Movement Trilogy)

by Jason Gurley

  Evelyn looks stunned, but Catrine just nods.

  Good, Untagarde says. Now, you see that fellow over there? Red trousers? That's Owen. He'll set you up.

  With that, the captain walks off.

  Nice to meet you, Catrine calls after her.

  The captain raises a hand in acknowledgment without turning around.

  Peaceable sort of woman, Evelyn says.

  You don't say, Catrine says.

  • • •

  Owen turns out to be little more than a teenager, and by his reaction to seeing Catrine and Evelyn waiting for him, Catrine guesses that he probably hasn't seen many women in quite some time. He stows their containers for them, then takes their personal bags and jogs up a staircase.

  As they follow, he starts to deliver his guided tour, but Catrine interrupts him.

  No need, Owen, she says. But thank you. We'll probably just stay in our quarters mostly.

  Of course, he says. That's fine. If you want meals, they're every twelve hours, starting at 0800. Anything in between you can handle for yourselves. You've got full access to the facilities while you're here, kitchen and showering pods and what-not.

  He leads them through the ship, which seems smaller on the inside than it looked from outside, and stops in an empty corridor.

  Well, here we go, he says. We only got the one space, though. I hope that's okay.

  It's fine, Evelyn says.

  The boy steps down on a wall panel, and the panel recedes, revealing a ladder.

  Compartment's down there, he says. Want me to take your bags down?

  We'll handle them, Catrine says. Thanks very much.

  Evelyn smiles at the boy, and he blushes.

  • • •

  Once inside, Evelyn throws her bag on the bunk and turns to Catrine.

  Figure it's bugged? she asks.

  More than likely, Catrine answers.

  Well, it's a lovely ship, and it even smells nice, Evelyn says, patronizingly.

  Catrine laughs. Now we can talk about all the top secret stuff, she says.

  Or we can fool around, Evelyn says. If it's the boy listening, it'll make his day.

  Might wake up a slumbering beast inside the captain herself, Catrine says.

  Evelyn chuckles. Okay, so for real, though. One bed?

  One bed, Catrine says.

  I don't like you much, but I wouldn't put you on that floor, Evelyn says. Looks like it hurts.

  It's steel grate, so, yeah, probably. We can share.

  I sleep nude, Evelyn says. Hope you don't mind.

  I do, too, Catrine says. But I oil up first.

  Well, I fart. All night long.

  So we're mostly even, then.

  Evelyn laughs. We're not supposed to get along, she says. Isn't now about the time we rip each other's head off?

  I'm too tired, Catrine says. Maybe when we wake up.

  Evelyn takes her bag off of the bed and drops it on the floor.

  I don't really sleep nude, she says.

  I know, Catrine says. I've been sharing a compartment with you awhile now.

  I do fart sometimes, though.

  Like I said, Catrine says. Been around you a little while now.

  Evelyn grins. Alright. Let's get some sleep.

  The Black

  The journey to the middle of the system takes more time than Catrine would like, and enough time that she begins to settle into a routine aboard the cargo ship. After departing Io, the ship travels in the opposite direction. Cargo ships go where the jobs are.

  It takes nearly three weeks just to leave Saturn and its moons, after a resupply stop on Titan and deliveries on Rhea and Dione. Then the ship turns around and aims for Jupiter again, with stops planned in Europa orbit and on Ganymede.

  Catrine doesn't mind the long way around. She has never seen anything as haunting or as beautiful as Saturn and its rings.

  In the mornings, she sips coffee in the viewing gallery, which is Untagarde's fancy name for the metal bench bolted down on level three. It sits close to a bay window that serves no real purpose on a ship like this one. Catrine sometimes brings a blanket along, and pulls it around her, and sits for hours.

  This morning, the ring system casts fine, dusky shadows across the planet's surface. She imagines waking to a view like this every morning, and for the first time thinks about what it might be like to settle down somewhere. She could ask Untagarde to bring her back on her next run, buy compartment space on one of the small satellite colonies that orbit Titan, or even settle on Rhea itself, and turn in some good old-fashioned hard labor in exchange for such a beautiful view each morning.

  What would it mean to Evelyn if she did? Not much. Evelyn, she thinks, will find a new partner in Tasneem, and will find the Maasi a capable platform from which to organize the revolution's next wave. Catrine would not be missed.

  Perhaps the destruction of Olympus, and her innocent participation in it, has cured her of the rebellious fire that has warmed inside her for so long.

  • • •

  Evelyn finds Catrine in the viewing gallery late one afternoon, as Saturn is finally receding from view.

  You're down here an awful lot these days, she observes.

  Catrine glances up, still cradling a long-cold cup of coffee.

  Hi, she says. Yes. I know.

  Evelyn sits beside her, and admires the view. Saturn has fallen low in the viewport, its rings thin, nearly invisible from this angle.

  It's nice, she says.

  It's beautiful, Catrine says.

  There is a touch of wistfulness in her voice that is unfamiliar to Evelyn. Softness. Evelyn sits with her unlikely traveling partner for some time, wordlessly sharing the same space.

  I talked to Untagarde today, Evelyn says, finally.

  Mm, Catrine says.

  She says we can borrow some time on the comms system tomorrow.

  Mm.

  I thought it might be prudent to let her know we're coming. Would you agree?

  Catrine looks up, distracted. Sorry. What?

  I thought that we could borrow some comms time, and let your friend know we're coming her way. Don't you think that would be wise?

  Oh, Catrine says. I suppose so. I know she doesn't like surprises.

  We would certainly qualify as a surprise, Evelyn muses.

  I'm afraid she'll deny me, Catrine says.

  She won't.

  She kicked me off of the ship, Catrine says.

  That was a long time ago.

  A decade is not so long for Tasneem. You don't know her.

  Evelyn sighs. You're right. I forget sometimes. That must be a heavy burden to bear.

  Nobody really understands it but her.

  I guess so, Evelyn says. What it must be like to witness all of human history -- I can't even imagine. I can't tell if it's a curse or a privilege.

  She considers it a responsibility, Catrine says. She feels it was her destiny. That her parents named her with this journey in mind.

  They couldn't have known, Evelyn says. Her parents must have been practically primitive.

  I suppose.

  Evelyn can feel Catrine withdrawing. She puts her hands on her knees, and leans forward to stand.

  We'll send a message, then? Evelyn asks.

  Catrine looks up at her, then turns her gaze back to the disappearing gas planet.

  We'll send a message, she agrees.

  • • •

  And they do.

  Evelyn stands by, one hand on Catrine's shoulder, as she records the message for Tasneem. Catrine's nervousness shows through, and her voice borders on shaky. She reaches up and takes Evelyn's fingers, and holds tight as she speaks.

  When she is finished, the communications technician says, I can play it back for you. Before we send it.

  Evelyn looks down at Catrine, who shakes her head.

  No, Catrine says. Just send it.

  How long will it take to arrive? Evelyn asks.

  Twelve hours
, the tech says. Assuming they respond immediately, you'll have a reply this time tomorrow.

  Tasneem won't respond, Catrine says.

  And she's right.

  Tasneem doesn't.

  But Varien does.

  The Message

  Saturn has fallen out of view, but Catrine still sits on the bench each morning, as if willing the planet to reappear. The ship will pass through Jupiter's orbit without fanfare. Jupiter is at the far end of its elliptical, visible only as a soft pink dot.

  Catrine worries about the message.

  Time passes more quickly away from the Maasi, and she cannot believe that an entire decade has unfolded since her departure. She remembers her final conversation with Tasneem almost perfectly.

  Jesus. You really want me to go.

  Yes. No. But you must.

  I still believe in what we're doing, Tasneem. All this shit aside, my heart is here. I belong here, on this ship, changing things.

  We can't do everything from the Maasi, Catrine. We're not useful. We're only the --

  The spark that lights the fuse. I know.

  We're the weakest part of the whole thing. We can light the fire, but it's up to the people to burn.

  But the spark hadn't come from Tasneem.

  The spark had come from Hatsuye, and it had been so much more than a spark. In the years since Deimos fell, small uprisings had been reported across the system. Some of the mining colonies had been shut down by revolts, taken over by colonists. Word was that a band of satellite colonists had steered their entire home into a Citadel ship. Skyresh was attacked several times a year.

  There are sparks everywhere now.

  What the sparks need is a fuse that leads to the Citadel.

  Catrine knows that Tasneem will not reply to the message. Nobody on the Maasi will. The ship remains dark at all times. Safety and secrecy are of paramount importance, more important than even human lives. Tasneem won't draw attention to herself. Catrine and Evelyn will have to find her in the belt, assuming she's still there.

  Which is why Catrine is surprised when Untagarde herself arrives in the viewing gallery to tell her that the Maasi has responded.

  • • •

  Evelyn is already on the comms deck, waiting.

  Untagarde nods at the technician as she and Catrine enter the room, and the technician closes the door, then replays the Maasi's response.

  Catrine -- Varien here. Gotta keep this short, but yes, come. Come find us. We're in the belt, we're exposed. You'll know our signal a mile away. We can't shut it down.

  Be fast. Be fast as you can, Catrine. Things are bad. Worst they've ever been.

  Catrine -- she's gone.

  Wait, Catrine says when the message ends. That's it? That can't be it.

  That's all, the tech says.

  Catrine's skin prickles. What did he mean? Jesus, Evelyn, what did he mean, what did he mean?

  Evelyn reaches for Catrine, and Catrine comes apart.

  The tech, confused, says, Should I send a --

  Evelyn turns, holding Catrine to her chest, and lifts a finger at the tech. Then she looks at Untagarde, who nods curtly, and guides the technician out of the room. The captain closes the door behind them.

  It's going to be okay, Evelyn whispers.

  Catrine's strength leaves her, and Evelyn struggles to hold her up.

  Shhh, Evelyn says. We'll go to them. We'll go. It will be okay.

  But inside, Evelyn knows that everything has just changed.

  Straight and True

  Evelyn finds Untagarde in her quarters, and taps on the open door.

  Untagarde turns in her chair, and waves Evelyn in.

  How is she? Untagarde asks.

  Hazy, Evelyn says. I've never seen anyone take a person's death so hard, and I've lost someone as close myself.

  Perhaps you're of stronger makings, Untagarde says. Well, the lady may be pleased to know that I'm bypassing our Ganymede and Europa stops. We'll supply up at Saffron, drop the two of you, and then head back out. Shouldn't delay our schedule more than a few weeks, and those Jupiter kids can handle the wait. I'm afraid your lady may not.

  Thank you, Evelyn says.

  You ask her about a reply? Untagarde asks.

  She's not thinking straight, Evelyn says. She's got a fever, she's in and out. When I asked, she just mumbled a few things I didn't understand.

  You want to reply yourself?

  I think so, Evelyn answers. When can I?

  Go up now, Untagarde says. I'll send word to comms to give you space.

  You've been gracious, Evelyn says, standing up. We're grateful.

  Purvis shared your meaning with me, Untagarde confesses. Deimos was brave.

  Evelyn looks at her feet. Deimos killed a lot of people.

  Untagarde says, Every war has casualties, child. Make no mistake, you started a war. Maybe the most disorganized one I've ever seen, but it just might do the trick.

  Evelyn nods uncomfortably. Thank you again for the comms time. For all of this.

  Go on, Untagarde says. You're welcome.

  • • •

  Evelyn sits down beside the comms tech.

  Twelve hours, huh? she asks.

  Do you one better this time, the tech says. Captain told me to use the quickwave. We don't often use it, but she seems to think it's important. Do you know if your friends have a QW system?

  I don't know, Evelyn says.

  Well, let's find out, the tech says. You ready?

  • • •

  A woman answers the call almost immediately. There's a short lapse between transmission and reception, but it's mere minutes instead of half-days.

  This is the Maasi, the woman acknowledges. Identify yourself.

  The tech points at the dispatch button, then nods at Evelyn and backs away from the desk. Evelyn slides over in her chair.

  I'm Evelyn, she says. I'm traveling with Catrine Newsome. We received your reply, and we're on our way to you. We need your location.

  She waits nervously.

  You're doing great, the tech says. It's good that they have a QW.

  Evelyn doesn't answer. The response from the Maasi arrives a moment later.

  Where's Catrine?

  That's all. No more.

  Evelyn says, Catrine isn't well. The response from Varien upset her greatly, and she's resting. May I speak with Varien?

  The small delays are more painful than the twelve-hour delay, Evelyn thinks.

  When the reply comes eleven minutes later, the speaker is no longer female.

  Varien Dulcek, the speaker says. Give Catrine my best. Listen, Evelyn, or whoever you are -- we're in shit shape, and I really don't have time to play identity games. We're transmitting coordinates to your location. Come quickly, and for Tasneem's sake I hope you're friendly.

  Evelyn says, Thank you, and we're friendly. I'm bringing Catrine to you. She's -- she's not well. But I have to ask -- she mentioned some things. I didn't really understand them. She's almost delirious. She was close to Tasneem, and she took your last message very hard. But she kept saying the name David. Does that mean anything to you?

  The tech gives Evelyn a thumbs-up.

  The reply comes several minutes later.

  Varien says, David is well. See you soon. Ending quick trans.

  Tasneem

  Evelyn lies in the bed beside Catrine, who stirs only a little in her sleep. The sedative does its job well. Catrine hasn't cried out in hours. Her skin is less clammy, and Evelyn, against her better judgment, slides close and puts her arms around her traveling partner. This seems to comfort Catrine, and she sleeps.

  It is dark when she finally wakes.

  She feels less disoriented than she might have expected. She is aboard a ship, she knows, and she is sharing a bed with another woman. The familiar weight of an arm around her waist. The soft brush of hair against her cheek. For only an instant, she is ten years younger, and sharing Tasneem's bed in secret.

  Ca
trine touches Evelyn's arm.

  Evelyn, she whispers.

  Evelyn starts awake immediately.

  How are you? Evelyn says, gently.

  I woke you.

  No, it's alright. I didn't want you to be alone.

  I'm okay, I think.

  I was afraid that -- that in your sleep, you might --

  I might think you were Tasneem.

  Yes, Evelyn says. But you also seemed so sad. I just -- I thought, maybe, if you felt someone close...

  Thank you, Catrine says.

  Evelyn touches her face tenderly. Did you sleep well?

  As well as I suppose I should have, Catrine says.

  She rolls over onto her side, facing Evelyn.

  Did you speak to the Maasi again?

  Evelyn takes Catrine's hand and holds it.

  I did, she says. I spoke to a woman.

  Serena? Tarae?

  I don't know, Evelyn says. I didn't get a name. I asked to speak to the man who contacted us.

  Varien. Is he okay?

  He sounded preoccupied. Like there's a lot going on.

  Catrine sits up, sharply. Did you ask about David?

  Yes, I did, Evelyn says. Varien says he's well.

  Catrine falls back against her pillow. Good.

  Who is he? This David.

  It's a long story, Catrine says.

  We have a few days yet, Evelyn says. Would talking make things worse?

  I honestly don't know.

  Tell me about her. About you and Tasneem. What was it like?

  • • •

  She was beautiful, Catrine says. She didn't think so. She wasn't a classic beauty, with perfect features. She thought her nose was unlovable, that her eyes were too far apart. And she never knew what to do with her hair. She would just throw it up behind her head and forget about it.

  How old was she when you met her? Evelyn asks.

  Catrine thinks back. I think almost five hundred forty.

  Jesus, Evelyn says. Could you tell? What was it like for her?

  She looked as old as I look now, Catrine says. She was young, had been young of body forever.