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

by John Thornton

  “Well Paul,” Gretchen said as she too eyed the overhead doors. “Who is to say it would be water that came from there or that water flowed in this passageway? It could be any number of different kinds of fluid. None of which would be healthy for us.”

  Paul looked stricken. He had been wondering about water, but now that Gretchen mentioned other kinds of fluids, he wondered how toxic or poisonous or noxious those fluids might be.

  “Maybe I can reach Tiffany this time?” Paul muttered to himself as he yet again tried his comlink to her. As had happened so many times, there was still no response. So he had no relief of his anxiety.

  The passageway, beyond where the overhead ceiling doors were, was similar to the one they had been following, but sloped downward at a bit more of an angle. The side to side slope was the same.

  They descended and followed the automacube around another bend. At the end of the passageway was a large pile of debris. Mud was stacked up against a twisted jumble of logs, sticks, metal bars, and assorted trash.

  “So where do we go from here?” Paul muttered.

  The modified automacube extended its manipulation arm, and the tool on the end of it had a metal spike protruding from the end, with a sharp hinged hook swung under it. Paul wondered at how many differed tools a blue automacube carried for attachment to its appendage. ‘The ends must be stored internally, or fashioned for each need’ he thought. The spike rammed into a log, then the hook snagged the log. Thus with this peavey attachment, the automacube quickly pulled the largest logs away from the tangle.

  As the logs were moved, swarms of insects flew up and annoyed everyone.

  Brinley started in helping to remove the smaller debris as the automacube worked. Zoya too pushed things out of the way.

  “The automacube must know its way around in here,” Paul said hopefully. “I wish we could speak to this one. Doctor 147 at least explained what was happening. Now we have no Tiffany, and now no Doctor 147.”

  “And I still have not found my momma!” Zoya stated.

  Gretchen and Paul both remained silent but worked to pull off the twigs and sticks, and batted the insects away. The debris and muck were still covering parts of the end of the passage, but now colder air could be felt.

  “Behind this pile of junk is a large grille of permalloy,” Brinley said. She had found the spaces between were big enough for her fingers to get though, but not the logs, and other debris which was piled up. “Beyond that grating I can see this passage goes directed down,” Brinley said as the automacube pulled a large log out of the way. “I wonder where the exit is?”

  As the automacube moved another large section out of the way, there came a loud buzzing sound. Then a series of blue lights came on all around the newly cleared grating. There was a deep rumble reverberated through the passageway. Then a clanking and grinding noise echoed from behind them..

  “That does not sound good,” Paul said.

  The modified automacube tried to jack a cable into a newly uncovered access port. The mud was thick there, and the machine had to clean out the port several times before a connection could be made. A side wall began to descend and a ramp was beginning to be revealed from top down.

  From behind them came a huge sound of water crashing down. Its resonance came to them from back where the ceiling doors had been located.

  “The fluid is entering this place again!” Paul exclaimed.

  “I hope it is only clean water,” Brinley said. “We can swim in water.”

  “I cannot,” Paul said.

  “Nor can I,” Gretchen said.

  The smell of the fluids reached them. It was a rank odor which was far different than the smell of the sea around Inaccessible Island, yet still had a sort of fishy component.

  The ramp on the side was now about halfway down, but stalled. The mud and rubbish had fouled the mechanism for its opening.

  “I am going in,” Zoya called and she climbed up and into the darkness which was behind the ramp. “This goes upward.”

  Looking down, Gretchen saw that the water was filling the edges of the passageway. The drains there were filling quickly and fluids continued to flow toward them.

  “We all better get out of here. This is filling fast. If this outlet was plugged, I bet the other are as well,” Brinley stated. “This air is getting foul.”

  Gretchen and Paul scrambled up over the ramp’s edge and crawled along after Zoya, a fusion pack light shining forward. Brinley followed.

  The automacube unjacked from the port and by adjusting its drive wheels was able to slide upward enough to gain traction, despite the fact brown water was swirling around it. With a few jerks, and assist from its manipulation arm, the automacube also entered the small space the ramp had revealed.

  Inside, and on the upward ascending slope of the chute, the automacube reinserted a cable into another access port and the ramp’s exit rumbled shut. It proceeded to roll up the chute after the people.

  “Hey, there is a normal hallway up here,” Zoya called. “It is covered by more grating, but I am removing the rusted latches.”

  The chute twisted to the side, and after passing that bend, Gretchen could see ahead to where Zoya was working. Light was shining down on her.

  “Got it open! And no fire this time!” Zoya exclaimed as she swung the grating away.

  Paul, Gretchen, and Brinley quickly climbed out of the chute and into the hallway. It was adequately lit with a more normal type of light. The automacube rolled out just after them. The grating slammed shut behind it. The automacube again jacked a cable into a port, this one not covered in muck. A door slid out from a pocket and covered over the grating. On the door was stenciled ‘Waste Water Recycling Conduit 877S: DO NOT ENTER’ in bold white lettering.

  The sound of rushing waters came to them from behind the now sealed conduit.

  “The toilet waters flow through there?” Paul asked.

  “That and wastes from the water systems of the habitat. We must have fixed it by what we did,” Brinley smiled. “Paulie, I am sure you are glad to help, right?”

  Before Paul could answer, Zoya interrupted.

  “It did help!” She jumped up in excitement. “I recognize this place. Around the corner is Exterior Repair Station V-2210!”

  “So we just find your mother now,” Gretchen said.

  “The tulips are roasted!” A strange voice yelled from the opposite end of the hallway. “The tulips are roasted!”

  16 Marching orders

  Governor Larissa put down a steaming mug of drink. Her intense blue eyes reread the message on the multiceiver she held in her other hand. A few wrinkles worked their way around here eyes as she scanned the message again. No one who lacked prior knowledge of the assassination of the previous Governor and Larissa’s own injuries in that incident could ever have guessed that her forehead had been creased by a wound. Her rebuilt skin was flawless and functioned perfectly.

  ‘So they have been found,’ Larissa said in her mind. ‘Those who twice interfered with me, injured me personally, and lived to tell about it. Now I have but to go to them. I will personally see to this matter.’

  She then placed the multiceiver into its pouch on her belt and unconsciously rubbed the perfectly healed place on her forehead. She reached for her mug and drained its contents. Licking her lips in anticipation she knew what she needed to do.

  ‘Yes, they would pay for their impudence,’ she thought. ‘I will personally see them pay. That will also ensure no one finds out what happened.’

  Larissa then moved away from her desk. Her light blonde hair was pulled back into her usual braided pattern and hung down her back. Her black and gray uniform did not differ much from the uniform she wore as Constable. She still carried the weapon which had originally come from the smugglers who claimed to be from Earth. The weapon had served her well in regards to the prior Governor. Now those same people who had now been located.

  Neither was her office much different from when it had be
en a Constable’s office. It was still located in the same building in Orsk, of E Habitat: the Wilds. A few new technological amenities had been added to alter the place from the Constable’s to the Governor’s service, but Larissa was not much for ornamentation. She was about function, power, and utility. Keeping her power base in the town she knew best was a calculated move which favored her gaining more control over the Wilds, both official control, and unofficial power. It did mean leaving some of the former Governor’s staff in place at Miass, but that was unavoidable. Larissa detested bureaucrats anyway, she preferred people who labored and knew the meaning of work.

  She pressed a section of the display panel on the wall, and a visual image sprang to life.

  “Constable Brock?” Larissa asked.

  “Yes, Governor,” Constable Brock instantly responded. He had been working at something else, but now his full attention was on Governor Larissa.

  “Are the renovations on the palace going well? I am hoping the population of Miass will enjoy their new domiciles, especially before winter,” Larissa asked. “There are families which will make good use of those spaces.” As always, her voice was controlled and well modulated.

  “Yes, Governor. The new Office of the Constable has been established on the ground level,” Brock motioned to the view behind him. “Remodeling of the upper floors will be ready for the new occupants soon.” His manner reminded most people of an unstoppable machine. His deep-set brown eyes were the color of tree bark. His thick, jet black hair was shaved almost to the point of baldness. His nearly black skin covered a slender, but muscular physic. Larissa was one of the few people who could see past Brock’s outward composure and read his true emotions.

  Brock knew she did not contact him about the palace of the former Governor. He showed subtle, yet unmistakable, to Larissa’s eyes, signs of anxiety whenever he spoke with Larissa. She enjoyed knowing that.

  “I will be taking some time off,” Larissa stated mater-of-factly.

  Brock’s outward expression did change with that announcement. A flash of astonishment went by. He recovered quickly, but his slip was revealing.

  “Yes, Brock,” Larissa gave him a smile without any warmth in it. “I will be on personal business. You will continue to monitor the automacubes which have been sent out on the CPO’s counter-insurgency mission. When this squad of automacubes returns, they will be reloaded with more macroactinide capacitor enhancer replacement parts and dispatched to new locations. I assume the Reproduction and Fabrication Zone operating as ordered. The CPO’s schedule will be maintained.”

  “Yes, Governor.”

  “I trust you can handle affairs of an everyday nature?” Larissa pressed. “Keeping the quarantine, decontamination of the returning automacubes, and overseeing the deputies in police matters?”

  “Yes, of course, Governor. Is there anything you will need?” Constable Brock asked but then bit off his words.

  “If there was, I would have already informed you. However, thank you for your touching concern,” Larissa replied. She was pleased to hear that she could bait him with her words. Her icy eyes never showed what lay in Larissa’s mind.

  Brock realized he had nearly crossed a boundary, and knew better than to mention it, or offer some lame excuse, or even a sincere apology. He had seen too many people cower like that before Larissa and how she had handled them afterward. He made a mental note and would not make that mistake again. He had not been appointed Constable by Larissa herself for no reason. His mind was sharp, and his wits and decisions were equally superlative. He did have to keep those who had been in service to the prior Governor in check, especially as his Constable’s Office was in the same building where many of them had worked. Yes, he was alert to their activities, for many of them thought they were deserving of promotion to Constable. Yet, much more dangerous, was Governor Larissa.

  Larissa waited an uncomfortable amount of time, at least uncomfortable for Brock, then she stated, “I will inform you when I am back. The CPO is well aware of this issue, and they have been fully briefed. There is no reason for you to engage them about this in any way. My staff here is competent for routine administrative matters. However, you will be responsible for the unexpected things which might arise.”

  “Yes, Governor. I will do my best,” Brock replied.

  “I am certain you will.” Larissa cut off the communication.

  She stepped out into the foyer of her command center. All eyes came to her as she entered.

  “Konstantin, you will manage the office until I return. Our good Constable will be responsible for security matters, but you will handle civil affairs,” Larissa stated. “The troubles we had with the insurgents and smugglers may consume his attention, so keep track of him if he needs our assistance.”

  Konstantin looked up. “Yes, Governor.”

  Konstantin was a husky man with large hands, and heavy brown hair which never seemed to be orderly. Larissa had considered him for the position of Constable. However, she knew his personal ambition was strong so she kept him in an administrative position where she could squash that drive.

  “You are an able administrator, Konstantin, so I trust you will see to matter from my Governor’s office. I will contact you when I return.”

  “Yes, Governor.”

  Larissa walked from the office. The sky tube was bright, and there was not much wind. Wind usually only came in the winter season. Her command center was at the center of the town, in a large three-story building. It had a flat roof and numerous windows. This building was made from light-green colored permalloy, as were most of the structures in the town of Orsk. There was a relatively new sign over the door which read ‘Governor’ in white lettering. It had replaced the one which said ‘Constable’ after she had been appointed Governor by the Central Planning Office.

  In the distance, Larissa could see the cultivated fields which extended to the highland evergreen forests. The roadway which ran through the town led into that forest and then away across the habitat to the other town, Miass. That was the location of the new Constable Brock’s office, and was at the edge of the Canyon.

  A team of poitevin donkeys were pulling a cart along the roadway. Each of the hairy and muscular animals had four legs, upright rectangular heads, long pointed ears, and a thick hairy tail. They were covered in long shaggy hair, dark brown or black in color. The harness was nearly invisible under the thick hair. The cart they were pulling was two wheeled and had a load of fresh vegetables in baskets on it. The driver was a woman who had two children next to her.

  The children waved at their Governor. “Hello Governor!”

  Larissa put on her professional smile and waved back. “A good day to you all fine citizens,” she said. “Looks like the very first harvests of the season have been good.”

  “Yes, Governor. We are thankful to be here in a safe place,” the mother of the children replied. “It is all due to you and we appreciate it.”

  “When we all do our part, the load is easy,” Larissa responded. She then waved again, and turned to continue her walk. The common people were easy to understand. They wanted to be safe. They wanted to be appreciated. They wanted to know their children would be safe. Larissa shared their desires, and she worked to supply that safety. ‘I will eliminate the threats to me, and that will make these people safer,’ Larissa honestly told herself. ‘These people cannot be safe unless I am safe and avenged.’

  Looking ahead she could see through town and down to where Lake Orsk sat. The still and peaceful waters stretched out, reflecting the light from the sky tube far overhead. Lake Orsk froze over every winter, but was now a tranquil still body of fresh cool water. A few fishing boats were moving gently upon its waters, their nets trolling along gathering a catch.

  Larissa walked up to a nondescript building. She entered a security code on the door of that average looking small building. Outwardly, it was much the same as the others, made from light-green colored permalloy, rectangular, pyramid shaped roof,
with a central door and two windows, one on each side of the door. She closed the door after entering.

  On the inside, was the difference. There was a short hall which led to another door. She entered a different security code on the nine section color panel. That door then opened and revealed the interior of the structure. The windows were enclosed so that if someone had tried to enter through the window, they would only find an empty tiny compartment. The true inside of this plain looking building was an elevator lift. Larissa approached that, and entering a third code the door to the elevator opened. She stepped in and it descended.