The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle

by John Thornton

  The lights around the hanger bay shifted in color from yellow, to brilliant blue color. Then at the far end, one section of the hangers flashed the blue color.

  “There you go,” Brinley said. “The doors will be opening, and we can fly in and land. There will be no gravity manipulation until we are inside, and only after the exterior doors are closed. We will settle our ships down as quickly as practical. After we land, they will re-pressurize the bay, turn on the gravity manipulation, and we will get out. Our two hundred and fifty kilograms of dried beef will allow us to barter. Well, somewhat, but those commodities, this shuttle, and the runabout are not much for a starting point. As Free Rangers go, we are pretty poor, but maybe we will get lucky?”

  The bay doors finished opening, and Paul and Gretchen could see that this hanger bay was segmented into separate sections. The one that had just opened was only about an eighth of the total hanger space; the rest was sectioned off by clear permalloy. The bay was brightly lit with one platform being covered by bright yellow stripes.

  “Paulie, we will need to land on the yellow stripes, so just follow my lead as I orient the shuttle,” Brinley said. She gently tapped the thrusters and the shuttle rotated about to align with the landing pad.

  Paul did not respond, but he did correctly adjust the runabout and prepared it for landing.

  Brinley brought the small shuttle in for a perfect touchdown on the right edge of the landing pad. Paul and Gretchen landed the runabout next to it with only a slight bit of difficulty in settling it down in the zero gravity.

  A display screen lit up on the far wall of the hanger, and the words, “Pressurization in process” flashed, again in the blue color.

  Then came the words, “Prepare for gravity in five, four, three, two, one. Gravity manipulation applied.”

  Paul and Gretchen felt the sensation of weight again. The runabout did settle a trifle as the gravity returned.

  “Tiffany?” Gretchen asked. “Are you still receiving our transmissions?”

  “Yes, Gretchen,” Tiffany replied. “I am in steady contact with you, Paul, and Brinley. I have been scanning the Vanguard in more detail from here in the scout ship. I have also been compiling and collating the information we gleaned from the places you have visited. I conjecture, with an 81% probability, that the communication system will now reach you, no matter where you are at any point in the Vanguard. However, there is the 19% potential that some unforeseen circumstance will inhibit our interactions.”

  “So what can you tell us about the people we will encounter?” Paul asked.

  “Current conjectures on societal groups are of low probability due to lack of concrete information. I have virtually no direct information on the group called the Central Planning Office, also known as the CPO. This means we also have virtually no information on the crew, the operations, or the flight conditions for the Vanguard. I have only a brief and very limited contact with the people of E Habitat. Those people can be subdivided into the Constable and her troops, and the general population. I have slightly more information on Brinley’s group of Free Rangers. I am not assuming that all Free Rangers are the same as that group. I have a considerable amount on Brinley herself. And I have a solid working knowledge on the infected people called the Roe. This collection of data is not sufficient to make any conjectures on societal interactions, group dynamics, or potential courses of action. I will continue formulating and gather raw data.”

  “You know I heard all that, right?” Brinley stated. Even though she was just getting out of the small shuttle, and not in the runabout, her voice was as clear as if she were standing there with Paul and Gretchen.

  “That is correct,” Tiffany replied. “I was aware you would hear my appraisals. If any of you wishes to have a private conversation, please inform me before hand and I will establish a private and secure conduit for that conversation. You can do that…”

  “It is not Brinley I was concerned about,” Paul interrupted. “She has more than proved herself, and I trust her. I was thinking about the people here at this hanger bay. We have not fared well with our initial interactions with anyone on the Vanguard.”

  “Paul is right,” Gretchen added. “We have approached people, told the truth, and yet ended up almost being killed, and imprisoned, and run off. What can we do to avoid that here?”

  Tiffany began to reply, when Brinley interjected, “I have been thinking about that. A lot, in fact. Meet me in the shuttle, and let me share my plans. I know these people. They are good people, but we need to approach them in a certain way. I was shocked at how the people back at my safe zone reacted to you and what we have experienced together. I do not want that repeated here. Some day when I go back to my safe zone, I will make things different there as well.”

  Paul and Gretchen lifted the canopy off the runabout. They stepped out and walked confidently over to the shuttle. Paul stated, “Most of our gear is in the shuttle, except for the communication links. I do not want to risk losing anything, especially the weapons and the med kit.”

  “Agreed. The runabout does not have much room for any gear,” Gretchen answered and placed her hand on Paul’s shoulder as they walked. “This time and this place will be different. Brinley knows this place, and these people.”

  “She knew the last group too, and they just betrayed her,” Paul snidely said. “Being trapped there was a lovely experience. One of the highlights of my life so far.”

  “I do not think people fool Brinley twice very often,” Gretchen said, ignoring most of Paul’s sarcasm. They walked the few steps to the shuttle. “Brinley was hurt badly by what those people did to her.”

  Brinley had done her routine post-flight walk about inspection of the shuttle, and was back inside it with the door to the shuttle open. They all sat together in the cabin. Brinley began the conversation, “Here we will need to do trading. These Free Rangers do not know anything about what happened with us being kicked out of my safe zone. Although word will travel rather quickly as trade missions happen. Free Rangers sometimes switch safe zones, so our joining here may not be too suspicious, right away. However, you two might say… something…odd? What I mean is… I know you may want to tell your story, about Earth and everything, but not yet. We tried that. Also, no one will believe we can cure the Roe. Not yet, at least. So just follow my lead. We will need to pay the Trade Master first, for docking here at the bay. Then we can proceed to the market.”

  “That sounds like an enjoyable experience,” Paul lamented. “So we know nothing about this place, and we follow your lead. Will this place be frozen?”

  “Paulie, this is Oasis, it is never frozen here,” Brinley giggled a bit at Paul’s naivety. “A frozen Oasis, now that is sort of funny.”

  “Paul, we knew almost nothing about the Vanguard before we got here. Brinley shall lead us,” Gretchen said. “And Tiffany, keep a sharp lookout on everything, but be cautious how you respond on audio.”

  “I will be watching,” The AI Tiffany replied. “I will only respond on private audio, not area audio when others are around.”

  Brinley stepped to the back of the shuttle, and opened the cargo compartment. The dried beef was stacked in parcels of 10 kilograms each, and there was a bundle of twenty five parcels. She slipped apart the packing restraints and took one parcel of the dried beef out of the bundle. “This should be sufficient for the Trade Master. Then we see how well we can trade.”

  “Should one of us stay with the vehicles?” Gretchen asked. “They could be stolen. Or do we lock it down somehow?” She handed a weapon’s belt to Paul while she strapped on her own holstered pistol.

  Brinley looked at her and wondered if she was serious. Deciding that Gretchen was serious, Brinley answered. “Thieves are not tolerated here. You two have so much to learn. Just ask your questions to me in private, otherwise, well, I guess I will tell people you have a brain disorder. The weapons will not be needed, but I will take mine too, so we look matched.” Brinley winked at them.
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br />   Paul frowned, and Gretchen just nodded her head slightly. “We are also taking the medical kit,” Gretchen stated. “You may not worry about thieves, but I do. It is fully charged, but I will take a fusion pack anyway.” She hooked the medical kit and fusion pack onto her belt, just near the holstered pistol.

  Brinley led them to the back of the neat and orderly hanger bay. The various implements for repair, fueling, and whatnot were all smartly arranged in their appropriate places. It was the same kind of hanger bay they had nearly been trapped in, but this one was so differently maintained and had obviously be well tended.

  The pressure door from the hanger bay had an active display on it. Brinley placed her hand on the display and spoke, “This is Brinley with my friends, Gretchen and Paulie. We come to trade.”

  Paul nearly interrupted, but Gretchen grabbed his arm as he began to speak.

  “Brinley!” A large booming voice responded. The pressure door immediately opened and the three of them stepped into an antechamber. Inside the room was a wall-sized display of all the hanger bays with multiple perspectives. A corpulent, man with a completely bald head, and pale complexion, was seated at a desk behind which were shelves lined with various items, including some bound books. He rose and walked over to Brinley. His large greenish eyes twinkled as he looked at Brinley. His hands were as large as the rest of his body, but he moved gently and with care as he hugged Brinley. “Welcome back! How are you? And you have new friends. Welcome to our safe zone.”

  “Rodgeeri, here is my payment for the hanger bay use. I am sorry it is only some of the finest dried beef from any habitat.” Brinley presented it to Rodgeeri.

  “You do know I like to eat. And beef is not as common here near Oasis as is fish. Not, that I dislike fish or seafood. You know I adore good lobster. So who are these friends? I try to remember all the Free Rangers, but I do not remember you two. Are you newly escaped from a habitat?”

  “I am Paul,” Paul stated and gave the man a smile.

  “I am Gretchen,” she added.

  “You have unusual voices,” Rodgeeri said as he looked at their forearms. “So what is your safe zone and where are you from?” Rodgeeri inquired in an all too innocent manner. His chin was down and his twinkling eyes looked large and a bit bubbly.

  Before Brinley could answer, Paul jumped in, “Now should I tell you the truth or tell you some fantasy like I came here from Earth?” Paul said with a straight face.

  Rodgeeri looked at him for a moment, looked down at Paul’s bare arm, and then broke into a huge laugh. “Brinley, you have brought us a comedian!” His chortling continued for a bit. “And at a good one at that. What excellent timing as well. Jodie’s Minstrel Educational Troop is currently here. Perhaps your new friend should join them? Paulie was it?” He laughed more. “Yes, Paulie the comedian might apply to have a position with them. Do you have a full routine?”

  Paul gave Rodgeeri a rueful grin and played along. “Maybe I will apply?”

  Brinley’s face was alight with pleasure. “Jodie’s Minstrels are here? With the puppets and everything?” Her voice squealed with child-like delight.

  “Yes, Malloy and Reed have their puppets as well as the usual singers and dancers. They have set up on the island’s square. We had to pay Governor Svoboda some precious and rare commodities in order for him to keep the island safe for a few days. However, it was a good investment. Governor Svoboda is not a bad sort, for a CPO officer, and he does keep Constable Herric on a leash.” Rodgeeri laughed and laughed. “Bark, bark, bark, like the dog Herric is.”

  “I am so eager to see the shows again. When do they start?” Brinley asked.

  Rodgeeri looked at the large display screen. The time was shown along the side. “Today’s shows have ended. It is night over the island. Tomorrow, bright and early the children’s show will happen. I suggest you all make a night here. I have several of the trader bunks open. For you, Brinley, and your friends, especially this funny one,” he pointed his thumb at Paul, “I will let you stay tonight free of charge.”

  “That is very kind of you, Rodgeeri. But I insist you take another parcel of beef. Just for all your troubles,” Brinley said.

  “Well since you insist, I must agree. I do not want to offend your generosity in any manner. You can give me the parcel before you depart. Thank you,” Rodgeeri said. It was clear he and Brinley were doing a verbal dance with set rules and choreographed steps.

  “Excellent! Then in the morning we can walk to the island. You have not had to change routes have you?” Brinley asked.

  “No, that will never happen. You can take the main passage to the freight lift, or you can take the longer scenic route. Our safe zone is the most secure one on all the Vanguard. Three thousand meters of water protect us here,” Rodgeeri replied.

  Paul and Gretchen both laughed a bit at his words.

  “Am I being a comedian now?” Rodgeeri asked in all seriousness.

  “My friends are just teasing with you,” Brinley quickly added. “After all, they did come here in a runabout, right?”

  “Yes, there is that. May I ask why?” Rodgeeri inquired.

  “We needed something really big!” Paul commented. “To carry the last people from a dying Earth.”

  Rodgeeri laughed again.

  Before more questions could come out, Brinley asked, “Which trader bunks do you want us to use?”

  Rodgeeri laughed heartily. “I am happy to be the brunt of a good joke. Paul the comedian, perhaps you will explain that one to me some day? Anyway, use the trader bunks seven or eight, or both. There is also a meal in the dining area, or what remains of a meal. I did have a snack a bit ago. I think I left some small scraps or morsels of food there. Some excellent blue-fin and scallops. Help yourselves. Sleep well, and may all your trades be profitable!”

  Brinley led them down the hallway and into the dining area. When they were out of earshot of Rodgeeri, Brinley turned to them and said, “You did well. We have lodging for the night, and food. This has gone better than I expected. Tomorrow, you are in for a real treat. Jodie’s Minstrels are outstanding.” Brinley clapped her hands in joy.

  “Does Rodgeeri live in that trader center control room?” Gretchen asked.

  “It is his domicile, as there is an apartment off to the side. You may have missed seeing the door. It is not obvious. Also, did you notice you were under the aim of his personal defense system?” Brinley asked.

  “What?” Paul exclaimed.

  “Yes, when we entered, he could have dropped any of us easily. He is a loveable man, and a fair Trade Master, but not one to be underestimated.” Brinley walked ahead of them.

  “Paul,” Tiffany said on a private channel only he could here. “The man Rodgeeri did have two separate weapon systems trained on you. Had he made an attempt to use them, I would have warned you in sufficient time.”

  The dining area was one large room with numerous circular tables and chairs. Against the far wall was a long serving table with various items sitting on warming or cooling plates. There was a strong and appealing aroma permeating the area. There were oblong objects, round objects, liquid things in pots, semi-liquid things in bowls, and flat objects, all which seemed to be some kinds of food, but to Paul and Gretchen they were mostly unfamiliar.

  “Take a tray from there,” Brinley pointed. “Then take some small portions of various foods. Sample what you wish, but be aware, the food here is different than what we had in my safe zone.”

  “All the food is different on the Vanguard. Are these dead animals again?” Paul grumbled. “I miss our food rations. With those I knew what I was getting.”

  “Paul,” Gretchen countered. “I am enjoying the tastes and flavors and textures of the new foods. Our food rations ran out, and we must adapt and adjust. Remember, failure to adapt is failure to survive.” Gretchen placed two round objects on her tray as well as some bread and some hot slices of a reddish almost magenta colored animal product. “I think these are fruits, and the
slices are some animal muscle. Am I right Brinley?”

  “Well, those are fruits. And if you include fish as an animal, I guess the salmon steaks could be call ‘animal muscle’ but I just call it fish. There are a lot of fish foods here in Oasis.” Brinley took a few different items as well and soon had her meal ready.

  Paul was more hesitant. He took a fruit, and some other items, but scowled at each as he placed them on his plate. The water he served up in a glass he took happily.

  They sat around one of the round tables, and consumed their meal with little conversation. They all realized how tired and exhausted they were from their ordeals. A serving staff member attended to the food table. A few other traders came in, got food and sat and ate, or returned to the trader bunks which were behind doors on the opposite side of the dining area. There were twenty trader bunk doors, all numbered.