“Go back to sleep,” Gabi’s mom growled.
There was a shuffling noise, and Gabi felt a hand on her foot. She jumped back and screamed in alarm.
“Shhh, it’s just me,” Petrovsky soothed.
“I’m s-scared,” Gabi stammered.
“Go to sleep,” came a stern warning from her mother.
“She’s had a nightmare, Maria,” Dr. Petrovsky rebuked. His tone changed as he addressed Gabi. “Come here, honey.”
She reached her arms out into the near total darkness. She fumbled for a moment until she found the doctor’s arms, and let him pull her into an embrace. Gabi cried into his shoulder as he slowly stood up, cradling her to his chest. He stumbled around very slowly in the darkness for several minutes until he found the front curtain of the clinic and pulled it aside. A dim glow in the night air was visible to the east, along with thousands of stars above their head. The outline of the Palm Palace was visible a few dozen feet away, bathed in a soft light from the bright moon of Persephone.
“Now then,” the doctor said, “what’s going on?”
“I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“The dead man.”
Dr. Petrovsky walked a few feet in silence. “Do you mean the man that Haruka shot?”
“Yeah.”
“Gabi, honey… he’s dead. He can’t hurt anyone. Not you or me or your mom.”
“But he’s really scary,” she protested.
“Why?”
“He’s in my dreams. He’s in my dreams and he has worms and bugs, and he stares at me.”
“Dreams can’t hurt you. They’re not real.”
“I know, but it’s really scary!”
Dr. Petrovsky sighed and rubbed her back. “Alright, let’s make sure you dream of something that’s not scary. When we go back inside, let’s find Pelusina, okay?”
Gabi sniffed. “Okay.”
“Alright, and then when you find Pelusina you’re going to go back to bed, but you’re going to do something special for me, okay?”
“I don’t want to go back to bed!”
“It’s okay, dear,” he continued, “because here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to imagine that Pelusina is a princess kitty. Do you think she can be a princess, Gabi?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Alright. And the princess kitty gets to play with all the princes and princesses of the realm, right?”
“Right.”
“Alright. So what I want you to do is dream about Pelusina playing with one of the princesses and her royal dollhouse. And when you wake up, I want to hear all about what happened in the dollhouse, okay?”
She sniffed again and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Okay.”
“Good,” he said as he carried her back into the darkness of the clinic. His voice lowered to a whisper. “Let’s find Pelusina now, and you can go back to sleep, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered back.
After another minute or so she was back on her mother’s bed. Her mom was snoring gently. Gabi quietly patted her hands around in the dark until she found the overstuffed cat, and then slipped under the opened sleeping bag. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure images of Pelusina dancing under a starlit sky, a tiara wreathing her head just under her ears.
Instead, the stars themselves became the backdrop, and Gabi drifted off to sleep to pictures of constellations dancing around a half moon.
Calvin McLaughlin
Civilian
28 March, Year of Landing, 07:02
Michael landing site
Cal’s feet shuffled through the damp grass as the line slowly moved forward. He shivered and rubbed his hands on his arms. The sun was just beginning to peek over the shadowy horizon to the east. Gray tendrils of clouds streaked the blue morning sky like long claw marks. A low din came from all around; families in the line for breakfast held hushed conversations, and other colonists in the encampment were starting their morning routines. Familiar scents taunted his nose as he drew nearer to the camp kitchen. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, picking out the single scent of fresh coffee.
A little reward for our work, he thought.
For the past two days, Cal had assisted with unloading cargo from Michael and helped set up the sprawling encampment that was nearly as long as the ship, and several times as wide.
Yet what amazed Cal the most about the unloading process was when the crew of Michael revived the livestock carried inside a pair of specialized cargo pods. The technology that kept these beasts of Earth in stasis was nearly identical to what was used in the sleeper berths, but on a widely varied scale, based on the animals it served. Cal took a quick look at the camp near the rear loading ramp of Michael, where a series of pens had been set up to contain the animals. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, keeping any possible predators from Demeter at bay.
The breakfast line – one of five such lines – moved again, and Cal caught a glimpse of the kitchen through the few remaining bodies in front of him. A flash of chestnut colored hair made him smile and left a tingle of anticipation in his fingers. His pulse quickened and he swayed from side to side, waiting for his turn. He picked up an enameled plate and cup from the table at the edge of the kitchen, then a fork and butter knife from the basket just beyond. Finally, the family in front of him moved out of the way, and he moved to the head of the line. Alexis greeted him with a shy smile. She wore a grease-stained apron over her jeans and shirt, and her hair was tied back in a bun.
“Good morning, hot stuff,” he said, the corners of his mouth tugged tight through his grin.
“Yeah, right,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I look like a mess.”
“Come on now. You know I’m glad to see you.”
“Of course you are.” She leaned slightly across the portable propane griddle in front of her. “Your girlfriend is making breakfast for you and two thousand of your closest friends. What’s not to like?”
Cal chortled and handed his plate to her. As he did so, his eyes dropped to the griddle surface, and his heart skipped a beat.
“Is that… is that what I think it is?”
“It is. Colonel Dayton ordered it. I guess he was tired of eating out of food pouches. Or maybe he wanted to remind us all of home.”
Cal’s eyes darted between the various cuts of fresh pork and bacon that sizzled on her grill. His mouth watered as the smells of freshly cooked meat nearly overwhelmed him.
“Are you serious?”
“Uh huh. Pick one.”
“Wow. The last time I had anything fresh was back on Earth. I’ll take a slice of ham, please.”
Alexis grabbed a thick ham steak with her tongs and slapped it onto Cal’s plate. She then topped his cup off with coffee and handed them back.
“There’s more down the line. Gail made some pancakes, and Ray thawed out some fruit.” She paused for a moment. “So what are you up to today?”
Cal fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “I’m not sure. I don’t think they’re going to need my help unloading today. Most of what’s left is supposed to stay on Michael until we get some farms or a medical clinic. I’m going to see what kind of work I can scrounge up.”
Scrounge, indeed. Because I’m not supposed to be here.
“Well, I hope you find something good. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Alexis blew him a kiss and winked as he moved to the next station in the kitchen. Gail was a middle aged woman, heavy set and blonde. She was a kind woman too, at least when she had her coffee. She gave Cal a curt nod and slid two modest pancakes onto his plate. Ray Conyers, Gail’s husband, manned the final station in the row. He dipped a ladle in a large bowl of partially frozen strawberries, then liberally smothered the pancakes with them before Cal turned and left the kitchen.
He wandered down the hill toward the river and found a small boulder to perch on. Cal set his coffee cup next to him a
nd set to eating his breakfast. He wasted no time in sampling the fresh ham. He closed his eyes and moaned loudly as he took the first bite. He washed it down with a sip from his fresh, piping hot coffee. The next ten minutes were spent relishing the first non-preserved food he had eaten since Earth.
With his belly full of food, Cal returned briefly to the kitchen to leave his dishes at the wash station. He then began a long walk around the edge of the encampment, looking for signs of forming work parties. As he made his way around the perimeter, he could only see signs of colonists rousing from sleep or securing their tents. Cal walked almost a kilometer around the edges of the encampment, past the animal holding pens, arriving at the rear cargo ramp of Michael.
Here he found promising signs; Hunter stood guard on the ramp, armed with a clipboard and pen. A short line of colonists formed in front of him. As each one approached, he asked a few questions, jotted down notes, and relayed instructions back to them. They then proceeded down the ramp and took a spot in one of a half dozen groups around the bottom of the ramp. Several pieces of heavy machinery were also arranged at the bottom of the ramp. Among the equipment he could identify were a front end loader, a backhoe, and a tanker truck. Several more machines that he was unfamiliar with also stood idle. From within the hull of the ship, Cal could hear the unmistakable whine and deep rumble of a turbo-diesel motor.
There’s work for sure today. I can feel it.
Cal bounded up the ramp and fell in at the back of the line behind a short, pudgy man in a wrinkled flannel shirt. He glanced back over his shoulder, straightened his glasses with one finger, and smiled.
“Morning,” he chirped cheerfully.
“Morning to you too, sir,” Cal replied.
“I’ve been waiting for this ever since we got here.”
“For what?”
“A chance to get to work. I was feeling a bit off there for the first couple days, plus I’m not sure how much help I would have been. I mean, this is all a bit much for me.”
“What’s a bit much?” Cal asked.
“The camp. I mean, I’ve gone camping before, but the scale of this is awesome. I think I’ve only seen anything like it in Civil War movies.”
Cal nodded. “It did take a bit, but we managed.”
“We?” his companion asked his eyes widening. “Did you get to help with it?”
“I did.”
“So you’re part of the crew?”
“Sort of. It’s a long story.”
The man extended his hand. Cal grasped it and gave a firm shake. He could not help but notice the soft grip and clean nails of the man’s hand. “I’m Neil. Neil Leclair.”
“Cal McLaughlin. So what did you do? You know, back on Earth?”
“Well, that whole situation was a mess,” he said, rubbing his chin.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, a couple years back, I graduated from UC Davis. I was on track to start with the USGS, when the War broke out. My position was immediately put on hold. While I was trying to figure out what to do, we got invaded, and I bounced from refugee camp to refugee camp. Then one day I get approached by the military, saying I had been selected for something called Project Columbus, and that was pretty much that. They took me to Wyoming. When I saw the rockets, I figured that the project must have been a lot bigger than I thought.”
A couple years… forty years… no difference, right?
Cal found himself nodding throughout the conversation. “You’re not kidding there.”
“Anyway,” Neil continued, “The weeks went on and more and more refugees kept pouring in. I figured it was only a matter of time before we were all blasted into space. And, well, you know the rest, I’m sure.”
“That I do.”
“So what did you do?”
“Nothing,” Cal said with a slight sigh.
“Ah. Here with your parents then? What did they do?’
Cal cast his gaze down at the ramp plating. The wound of his father’s sacrifice ached as the image of his face came to mind.
“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Neil asked.
“My parents are dead. Dad sacrificed himself to put me here.”
The revelation was met with an awkward silence.
“I-I’m sorry,” Neil finally said in a hushed tone.
Cal shook his head and looked back up at his companion. “It’s okay. You had no way of knowing.”
“No, seriously. I feel bad.”
“Hey,” Cal said, extending his hand and giving a brave smile. “Water under the bridge, my friend.”
Neil shook Cal’s hand again, and Cal could see the relief on his face. Neil exhaled loudly. “Thanks.”
“Hey there, Cal,” Hunter interrupted. The grin he wore on his face was wider than the flag emblazoned on the shoulder of his flight suit. “What’s cookin’?
“Not much, Hunter. Just looking for a job, as usual. We got any more to unload today?”
“Sadly, no. Just a few heavy machines, and regulations say the crew is supposed to handle that.”
“I understand.”
“Wait, I thought you said you were part of the crew?” Neil interrupted.
Cal shook his head. “I said it was a long story.”
“Cal is officially a civilian advisor,” Hunter explained. “There are certain things he’s not allowed to do on Michael, no matter how much we like him.” Hunter playfully jabbed Cal twice in the ribs.
“That’s okay. I can wait. Neil here was in front of me, so it’s only fair that you assign his work anyway.”
“Very well then.” Hunter turned to face Neil and brought his clipboard and pen to the ready. “Neil, last name?”
“Leclair.”
“Occupation?”
“Refugee.”
“No job before we left Earth?”
“I never got to start one.”
“College degree?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In?”
“Geology,” Neil said as he straightened his glasses again.
“Alright. We can definitely use that today. Look down the ramp behind you. Report to group four for further assignment. Count clockwise from the bottom left of the ramp.”
“Thanks,” Neil said as he waddled down the ramp.
“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got for you here, Cal.” Hunter scrutinized the sheet in front of him, then flipped to the next page briefly, and back again. “Damn.”
Cal’s heart sunk slightly. “What?”
“I just didn’t realize how many technical jobs there were in this batch.”
“Please tell me you have something for me today.”
“I do, but you’re not going to like it.”
“That’s my problem, not yours.”
Hunter lowered the hand with the clipboard to his side and looked directly into Cal’s eyes. “No, seriously. It’s probably going to land you in an expedition group. It’s could take you away from camp for a long time.”
Cal nodded and sighed, then thought for a moment. “But could you guarantee me work tomorrow?” Hunter’s silence was all that Cal needed to make up his mind. “I guess the good news is I won’t be bugging you for work every day, right?”
“You’re sure about this?”
Cal nodded again.
“Alright,” Hunter said. He jotted down some notes on the second sheet of the clipboard. “Report to work group four for further assignment. Good luck, my friend.”
Cal got a firm handshake from Hunter before he jogged down the ramp and joined up with his assigned work group. Neil was already in the thick of the group, hard at work making friends with a dozen other colonists. Cal sidled up next to him to listen in.
“So what do you think they’re going to have us do?” asked a tall brunette woman standing to Neil’s side.
“I’m not really sure,” he answered. “Maybe if we go around and say what we all used to do, we can figure it out. I’ll start. That guy on the ramp put me here afte
r he found out I was a geologist.”
“Forest Service ranger,” added the woman.
“I was a botanist,” called a man from deep within the group.
Other voices rang out with professions.
“Private security.”
“I worked for a resources exploration company.”
“Long haul truck driver, here.”
I see a pattern here, I think.
A deep rumbling noise accompanied by a high pitched whine caught their attention, and the group turned to face a machine that made its way down the loading ramp and onto the ground. It turned directly for work group four, lumbering slowly.
“What the hell is that?” Neil asked.
The machine wasn’t anything that Cal could directly recognize. The body, for the most part, looked like a heavy-duty crew cab pickup. Enough of the sheet metal was recognizable so that Cal knew that was what it started its life as before heavy modification. The turbo-diesel engine revved slightly, and the beast picked up speed before turning to the side and stopping directly in front of the group. Cal had to look up somewhat to see the cab, despite his height.
Underneath the frame of the truck, significant changes had been made. A heavy steel skid plate ran from bumper to bumper. The front suspension contained a number of complex lift components, several of which he remembered from Rob’s truck. Massive knobby tires shrouded the front wheels. The factory bumpers had been eschewed in favor of custom protective plates that wrapped around the front, reminding him of the armor on some military vehicles. A spotlight was mounted to the A-pillar on the passenger side, and a massive snorkel intake was secured to the driver’s side. Part of the bed was enclosed, and a large tank could be seen under the enclosure. The most dramatic modification, however, was that the rear axle and wheels had been completely replaced by a pair of tracks, almost identical in size and shape to those on the backhoe he had seen earlier.
The engine shut off, and Cal could see the driver’s legs as they dropped to the ground below on the far side.
“I know what we’re doing,” he muttered to Neil.
The driver walked around the front of the machine, and Cal gulped when he recognized the short bobbed haircut and stern scowl of Lieutenant Traci Josephson. She caught him staring, and her brow furrowed for a moment. She then proceeded to a position just in front of the rear passenger door of the truck.
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 60
