During the flight back to New Phoenix, Roddy told the guards the truth, the real purpose behind the machines they called Cleansers, the ends for which men like Oswald Silver created them. They listened, but said nothing, and Roddy knew it would take time to see through the lie, to alter their mental reality and accept the truth.
For now, they simply agreed they wouldn’t kill each other.
He landed the ship in the same spot they’d left several hours earlier, and found rolling carts used to haul luggage and supplies to the fortress. They loaded the bodies of two guards on one, Oswald Silver and the third guard on a second, and Deirdre on a third.
Roddy pushed the cart holding Deirdre and led the way back to the fortress, followed by the two guards pushing the others, a surreal funeral procession that nobody had come to watch.
When they entered the fortress, they found out why.
It was pure chaos.
He caught bits of the conversation as they moved along, the emotions around him so raw and unfocused that people didn’t seem to notice that a stranger and two of Oswald Silver’s guards were pushing carts with oddly shaped bundles on the top. People said that the Phoenix Group had been infiltrated by evildoers. They’d heard that some, or even all, of the top leaders in the group had been murdered. They said that there were stories from at least three other fortresses claiming that those forces had seized control and were now in charge of ongoing terraforming activities.
“At least we still have Oswald Silver here to guide New Phoenix,” one woman sniffed as the procession moved by.
The guard pushing the second cart shook his head at her. “Not anymore,” he said, nodding at the bundles he pushed.
Roddy could sense the rippling effect of those two words on the people here, the rapid unraveling of any semblance of social order. “We were flying Oswald Silver and his daughter, Deirdre, around, giving them an aerial view of this region and letting them see the initial results of terraforming here. While we flew, as they stood and looked out a window, the ship suffered a malfunction, and the cargo bay ramp fell open.” He bowed his head, and let some of the genuine emotion mar his face. “They fell before they realized what was happening, and before we could save them.” He swallowed. “We retrieved the bodies for identification and… a… proper burial.”
It didn’t help the mood much. But at least the story erased any thoughts of retaliation against Oswald Silver’s pilot and the guards who’d survived the horrific accident.
Thankfully, the two surviving guards didn’t seem interested in correcting his slight edits to the real story. They didn’t elaborate on the details when they delivered the carts and bodies to those operating the New Phoenix medical wing either.
The three men separated at that point, and Roddy suspected they wouldn’t socialize much in the future.
He found a washroom and scrubbed his hands thoroughly—he had touched dead bodies not long before—and, after exiting, asked a few passers-by if there was a place where a new arrival might take a shower and get some fresh clothing. It took a while to find anything in his size, but he found showers attached to the public workout facility here—and eyed a few machines he didn’t recognize for potential future challenges—and not long after wandered into the dining areas. He didn’t feel hungry, even when the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted across his face. But he forced himself to eat.
He sat alone, thinking, mostly listening to the conversations around him. Fear of the future was the dominant theme; the people here felt rudderless, unable to consider a future without the leaders they’d been groomed to worship, unable to see the point of trying or the next steps they ought to take. It was the issue with the Phoenix elite’s model; they taught people to follow, to take orders, to serve, rather than to lead or think for themselves. Take out the single leader and the entire organization evaporates into chaos.
The issue now, given the magnitude of the losses from the Ravager scourge, was that it wasn’t just the Phoenix organization that would collapse and die out. It was the entire human race.
It meant that people like him had to take those first steps, to provide a voice and direction for others to follow, and gradually wean them from the need for detailed direction.
Of course, they might kill him for trying, but try he must.
He glanced at a nearby table full of diners save for one empty chair. They looked frightened, uncertain, unsure of what was to come. He thought for a moment, made his decision, stood, and walked over to them. “Mind if I join you?”
He was met with blank stares. No one said “no.” So he pulled out the empty chair and sat down. As he did so, he decided to put his newfound power to use. If he could push deadly projectiles of whatever it was he could now control… could it also be used to soothe, to calm, to help people regain lost confidence in themselves? He sent the warmth to all of them, encouraging just those sensations and feelings. Watched as their faces relaxed, just a bit, tension left hunched shoulders, just a bit, noted the mood brighten, just a bit.
That was all he’d hoped for.
He listened first, and much of what was said was local gossip, thankfully about people not recently murdered by Deirdre, and he didn’t know if any of them had yet heard about the loss—not much of a loss—of Oswald Silver.
One of the men slumped over again. “So… what do we do now?”
Many murmured variations of the phrase “I don’t know,” though one of the women said nothing. Roddy found that reaction interesting.
He leaned forward a bit. “I’m new here; just flew in with some supplies. I hope you don’t mind my asking, but… why don’t you know what to do now?”
He saw many pained, confused faces. The man who’d spoken earlier gave him an odd look, almost angry, but seemed to think better of outright physical confrontation after sizing Roddy up. “The people who were going to tell us what to do are dead. We don’t know who will be sent to replace them. We don’t know who will give us our work orders.”
Roddy frowned. “I saw some soil that looked like it was enriched and some green material growing outside.”
“Right. We did that under the direction of the last person sent here to lead us.”
“And how did they decide what you should do?”
“They… well, I think they looked at the plans and found the next step and told us to do that.”
“So… can’t we do that?”
“Do what?”
“Read the plans and do what they say. That’s just following written directions.”
“Maybe… but the plans we used before were for that phase of the project. We don’t have new plans yet.”
“Who made the last plan you followed?”
“Well…” It was the woman who hadn’t seemed as lost as the others before. “I did. That’s my job.”
“So… you could make a plan for the next steps to take, then?”
“Well… that would be highly irregular.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t been told to make a plan.”
Roddy grinned. “I hereby give you permission to make a plan to get everybody back to work on terraforming this area.”
“And you are…?”
“The voice of reason.”
“What?”
“Look,” Roddy said. “We seem to have a void of high level leaders right now. We don’t know when or if that will change. So we have two choices. We can sit around and look at each other until we all die. That’s option one. Personally, sitting around staring at people until I die sounds like a bad deal in my mind. Very boring.”
There were a few stifled laughs. Roddy smiled at those who’d done so.
“What’s option two?”
“Keep moving forward.”
“But—“
“Look, if someone like Oswald Silver was here, what would he say? Probably something like, ‘get to work moving the terraforming process forward,’ right?” He saw a few nods. “If he said that to each of you, what would yo
u do?” He looked at the woman who built the plan.
“Well…” She paused. “There’s a master plan out there, something that came from the Time Capsule. It has terraforming plans that would let you start on a planet without an atmosphere or water.” She offered a nervous smile. “I think we already have those, since we’re still alive.”
Roddy smiled, and nodded at her to continue.
“The last time, I traced through that until I found the first thing that hadn’t been done. Then I took that task, figured out the supplies we’d need, the exact location, and what type of workers we would need.”
“And?”
“And then everyone looked at the plan, saw what they were supposed to do, and they did it.”
“Can you do that again?” Roddy asked.
“I don’t… I’m not sure if we should…”
The man who’d seemed so complacent earlier. “You know, I think he’s right.” He nodded in Roddy’s direction. “We know how to do the work. We just need someone to get the sequence right and coordinate everything.”
Roddy looked at the woman. “Sounds like you’ve got at least two people ready to get to work. What should we do?”
Another woman at the table leaned forward. “Not sure who you are, but your counting skills suck. There’s clearly at least three.”
“Technically, my statement remains accurate.” Roddy looked around. “Is there anybody who doesn’t want to get to work?”
Silence.
He turned back to the master planner. “What should we do first?”
She took a few breaths, seeming to gain confidence as she did. Then she stood up. “Follow me.”
They did.
As it turned out, motion was contagious. Five of them set to work that day. Word spread. Twenty turned out the following day. Janet, the master organizer, thrived in her role. Others learned how to help her in coordinating supplies, tools and workers.
A batch of ships arrived from the space station a few weeks later, full of supplies, occupied by people who were there to help New Phoenix get started. They were shocked to see a budding oasis surrounding the facility, grasses swaying in the wind, with workers tilling soil and adding nutrients and spreading seeds and planting flowers in ever widening circles around the facility.
The man sent to lead the project exited his ship and stared at the progress made to date. He remained slack jawed when a convoy of flatbed trucks pulled up. His eyes took in the massive driver who hopped out of the first truck. “What’s going on here?”
“Terraforming.”
“But how… nobody… I just got here!”
“Great, we can always use more help. Let Schnedl over there know your skillset so he can put you to work.” Roddy jabbed his thumb toward a young man in the distance who was demonstrating to new workers the proper technique for operating a powered soil tiller. “In the interim, we’ll ferry the supplies you’ve brought back to the depot. You’re using standard sized pallets, I presume?”
The man stared as small forklifts rolled off the back of each of the trucks and headed toward the huge spacecraft. “But…”
Roddy leaned in. “Easiest job in the world right now would be enjoying the hospitality around here without trying to take over the terraforming effort. Recommend you try the grilled cheese and tomato sandwich at the diner… it’s to die for.”
He jogged away, shouting at the forklift drivers. “Michael! Take three to the first ship… I think they’ve got tree saplings!”
A whoop went up from the drivers as they sped by.
The man stared. He finally looked at Roddy. “Can… somebody give me a ride back to the fortress?”
Roddy chuckled.
He’d been working on the psyche of those who toiled with him, using his power to encourage open-mindedness, gradually noting some of the negative qualities of the leaders, softening them up for the more painful truths to follow. He’d found the video of his old friend Wesley spilling everything—damn, that guy was good—and kept posting it under fake names to the New Phoenix social media sites. The first few postings were removed, but people gradually watched, and learned… and started to realize what had happened.
Roddy, thankfully, never got beaten up, stabbed, or shot. He’d have to thank Wesley for taking one for the team at some point. He just peeled back the layers of the onion, one at a time, until the connections started coming on their own.
Most responded by working harder, stepping up and taking more responsibility as they found specific areas they excelled in, earning the respect of those who trusted their guidance in tasks large and small. “Leaders aren’t pushed upon people,” Roddy said. “Leaders emerge because their peers recognize their ability to make good decisions and provide guidance upon the right path. People follow leaders, they aren’t pushed.”
He looked up from digging a hole for one of the new tree saplings, wiped the sweat from his brow, and stared at the sky. His heart skipped a beat.
It was one of the flying silvery spheres he’d spent so much time in. He’d been waiting for its arrival.
Communication had been difficult. Mary and the others had killed almost two dozen people in the slaughter that claimed the lives of the remaining Thirty, many of whom were innocents caught in the crossfire. People demanded answers, demanded recompense, demanded help to clean up after the latest tragedy.
Much as they’d all wanted to leave, they stayed and did the right thing. Nursed the sick to health, aiding the process with powers as applicable. Repaired physical damage. And, perhaps most importantly, Miriam’s team had been able to pull the remains of the dead still in limbo back inside without risking anyone else’s life. It allowed the survivors to properly mourn.
One of the bodies belonged to Delilah Silver.
They’d joined in various ceremonies to mourn and celebrate the losses, and, after the speech read by Sheila/Hope, there were many questions about claims of evil motivations behind the true leaders of Phoenix. They didn’t help everyone to see the truth. But enough did that full acceptance would come soon enough.
Communication with the surface during that time had been cut off. But after two weeks, the operators of the station agreed to let everyone communicate with those below. And it was only then that Roddy’s comms nanos let him speak with his wife once more.
Micah joined Mary on the long journey home. They summoned Roddy’s flying sphere, climbed aboard through one of the recently repaired docking stations, and returned to the surface. They stopped at Eden first, and then New Venice. His parents would stay at home—though they missed everyone the second they’d left, and begged them to return soon… with their son.
Roddy dropped his shovel and ran for the de facto docking port here on the ground, ran as fast as he could toward the sphere of the swirling metallic silver hue. His lungs screamed at him, his body roared at the excessive exertion under the hot sun, but nothing would stop him at this point.
He got there in time to watch them land. Watched the ramp lower.
He swept the three of them up in his arms, never wanting to let go, laughed as his children complained of getting crushed. After a moment he kissed Mary, a long, deep kiss that left his children groaning in disgust. The children tried to tell him everything of their adventures on Eden at once, of the neat things the robots could do to the fascinating things discovered as they’d toured the island.
“Dad, there’s a cave there, and there are tables inside, and… you’ll never guess!” Jack jumped up and down, nearly bursting with excitement.
“What?”
“No, guess!”
“Um… someone carved a heart into the table with your name on it!”
“Ew!” Jack shouted. “Gross!”
“There were skeletons sitting around the table!” Jill offered.
“My story!” Jack yelled.
“Then tell it and stop getting distracted!”
Roddy laughed. “Sounds like you guys had a great time.”
“Yeah!
” Jack said. “But… we did miss you.”
“I missed you, too.”
“We’re never going to get separated like that again, are we, Dad?” Jill asked.
Roddy looked at Mary, and smiled. “No. We’re never getting separated like that again. Promise.”
Chapter 26
One Year Later
“Are you ready?” Micah asked.
“Yeah. I think so.” Sheila glanced at him. “I’m nervous, because I’ve not walked normally for so long that I’m afraid I’ll fall down and hurt myself, or look foolish. I know I’ve prepared as best I can, and there’s no reason to think I’ll have any difficulties. I need to walk again to regain my confidence so that I stop worrying about it.”
“Thank you,” Micah said.
It had taken longer than they’d expected to get Sheila’s human body operational again. When Micah returned to Eden after the battle aboard the space station to check in on her, the statistics painted a more gruesome picture than the one presented before he’d left. It turned out that the time spent in low and zero gravity environments had deactivated her healing nanos, and Micah spent two weeks getting the “dead” bots out and putting fresh versions back in.
When she’d emerged from the coma two months later, he’d taken her back to the space station. The conversation with robot Sheila revealed an interesting detail about Delilah Silver’s secret command center. Controls there allowed for the localized control of gravity levels. Delilah used the feature to deactivate human Sheila’s nano-swarm—the bots used gravity as an energy source—and, Micah reasoned, the system could be fine-tuned to any strength level desired. She remained there in a controlled low gravity environment while custom robots moved her limbs and reactivated muscles dormant for so long. She’d taken her first low-grav steps seven months after her injury, and they’d gradually increased the gravity levels until she’d safely walked across the gravity controlled room on her own. It exhausted her, but she’d asked Micah to return to the surface.
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