Darius chortled at the exchange between his crewmates. “Managers, right?”
Metal rasped as Miguel scraped another layer of dirt into the hole. “Can’t get his hands dirty, right? Just gotta bitch and moan while another guy sweats. Heaven forbid he breaks a nail.”
“I heard that, Barajas,” Ivan sneered, though he bore an impish grin on his face.
“Go back to eating your borscht, Novak.”
“It’d be better than Private Owens’s food packs.”
“Hey,” Darius protested as he stifled a laugh. “That’s Lieutenant to you. I wasn’t a grunt, thank you very much. I went to officers’ school to learn how to ruin my life.”
“Holy shit, they sent you to school?” Novak replied sarcastically.
“I know. Can you believe it? Look! I can dress myself!”
“Wow, man,” Miguel interjected. “Who’s your designer? Bob Vila?”
Darius could no longer contain himself and he began to laugh almost hysterically. Miguel and Ivan joined in. Darius had to gasp for air when Ivan let loose a particularly ridiculous laugh, and Miguel looked as if he might pass out at any moment.
A low rumbling noise brought the comedy to an abrupt end. Darius glanced around and saw Airman Jake Smith riding up the hill on a pinto gelding that was a little too small for his frame. The trio waited for the Air Force enlistee to arrive and dismount. He walked with a sharp step directly to Darius.
“Lieutenant Owens, sir,” he saluted.
“I’m not an officer any more, son. No need to salute,” he said, holding back a sneer. Darius knew that the young airman did not mean any offense in addressing him by his former title, though it still stung a little.
“Sorry, sir.”
Darius’s hand curled and then relaxed. I said I’m not an officer any more, kid. Don’t you listen?
“What can I do for you?”
“Sir, I have a letter for you, from Colonel Eriksen,” he replied as he produced a piece of paper from the pocket of his flight suit. He extended his hand, and Darius took the letter.
“Thank you, Jake.”
Smith saluted, but Darius did not give one in return. Instead he unfolded the paper and began to read as Smith walked back to his horse.
MR. DARIUS OWENS
IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT YOU ARE SLATED TO TESTIFY AS A WITNESS FOR THE DEFENSE IN THE UPCOMING TRIAL OF THE PEOPLE VS. DOCTOR TADASHI KIMURA. PLEASE BE AWARE THAT SUCH ACTIONS WOULD BE CONSIDERED MEDDLING IN THE AFFAIRS OF THE DEMETER COLONY, AND WOULD BE IN BREACH OF THE CONDITIONS OF YOUR DISCHARGE. IF YOU SERVE AS A WITNESS YOU MAY BE SUBJECT TO COURT MARTIAL FOR DESERTION. I HOPE THAT I DON’T NEED TO REMIND YOU THAT THIS CRIME IS SEVERE, AND THE PUNISHMENT MAY INCLUDE DEATH.
CHARLES ERIKSEN
COLONEL, USAF
COMMANDING OFFICER
DEMETER COLONY
ALPHA CENTAURI B
“What the fuck?” Darius muttered.
“What is it?” asked Miguel.
Darius thrust the paper into his companion’s hand and stormed up to Smith, who was firming his grip on the reins.
“Airman Smith,” he shouted. “Did you read that letter?”
“No, sir. My orders were simply to deliver it to you.”
So he’s willing to send out someone as clueless as Smith to deliver a threat?
“Can you please give a response to the colonel?”
“Yes, sir.”
Darius’s lip curled and his voice lowered an octave. “Compliments of Mister Darius Owens, would you kindly inform the colonel that his demands are illegal, and I will see to it that the people’s counsel is made aware of the existence of this letter?”
Smith’s eyes grew wide and his jaw slacked. He could form no words, instead nodding in acknowledgement as he turned the horse away and galloped back toward Gabriel.
“What the hell is this?” asked Miguel.
“A threat,” Darius replied.
“Why does Colonel Eriksen need to threaten you over this trial?” Ivan asked.
“Because he wants an innocent man to die.”
Gabrielle Serrano
12 April, Year of Landing, midday
Camp Eight
Gabi charged into the surf and thrust her hand out. The tips of her fingers brushed the left arm of Caleb as he tried to twist out of the way.
“You’re it,” she giggled and staggered back toward the gleaming sand. She lost her footing, throwing her arms out in front of her to catch her fall. The cast on her injured arm flung a spray of water that narrowly missed her eyes as she charged onto the beach.
Caleb pumped his legs and burst forth from the sea. He made a bee line for another young boy with sandy blonde hair. Gabi giggled as Caleb tried to tag the other boy, but missed, and ended up face-first in the sand.
“Gabi!” Kelly Vandemark called out.
She looked around and spotted Kelly farther up the beach, near the empty steel pod. Kelly waved her arm in a circle, beckoning to her. Gabi bounded up as Kelly lowered one knee into the sand.
“It’s time for lunch, Gabi,” Kelly said. A thin wisp of her wavy brown hair drifted across her eyes in the gentle breeze. “Let’s go find your mom, okay?”
“I don’t want to,” she protested.
“It’s time, honey.”
“But I don’t want to! I want to play!”
Kelly took Gabi’s tiny hand into her own and stood up. “You can do that later. Come on, let’s go.”
“No,” Gabi whined.
The older girl tugged gently at her arm. Gabi pulled back and dug her heels into the sand, but could not break Kelly’s grip. She forced a sob to see if Kelly would give up, but she didn’t; the Vandemark girl kept pulling her firmly along the beach. Kelly turned her head left and right every few steps.
“You’re mean,” Gabi pouted.
“You can go back to the beach as soon as you’re done eating, I promise.”
But that will take forever!
They reached the spot where the river flowed into the sea. Kelly paused for a second and turned her gaze up over the bank. She squeezed Gabi’s hand and knelt next to her, then pointed to the river bank a hundred feet away.
“There’s your mom. Go on, sweetie.”
“No, I don’t want to!” Gabi stamped her foot in the sand.
“Come on,” Kelly smiled. “It’ll be real quick, then you can come back and play. Now, go to your mom.”
Kelly gave Gabi a slight nudge in the back, which made her stumble forward. She looked back at the older girl, who kept smiling brightly as Gabi walked away.
I don’t want to, she repeated to herself, though her legs carried her onward.
Each step felt as if her feet were made of stone. Her toes dragged and her shoes, now mud brown instead of a brilliant pink, cut erratic curves in the dirt and leaves on the jungle floor.
Her mother sat, hunched over, at the edge of the river, looking down into the lazy waters. As Gabi approached, she could tell that she was crying. Her sobs sounded like a pitiful song of sorrow. Gabi slowly approached and put her arms around her mother’s shoulders and hugged.
Her mom’s shoulders jumped and fell with each gasp and sob. She did not acknowledge Gabi or return her embrace.
“Mama, what’s wrong?”
The heartbreaking sound of her mother’s cries made Gabi’s heart sink and her lip quiver. When Gabi spoke, her mother only wailed louder. Still she did not touch Gabi or speak.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” she repeated.
Her mother rolled away, breaking Gabi’s embrace, and scrambled to a tree a few feet away. There was no eye contact. Her mother spoke no words, and now had pulled away from Gabi. She felt a panic start to rise within her, and her vision began to blur as tears filled her eyes.
“Mama, you’re scaring me.”
“I can’t do it, Mija,” her mother choked. “Not alone, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Mama?” her tiny voice quaked.
“Your Pa
pa and I could do it together. He always knew what to do.”
Gabi’s mother sank to her knees. Muddy tears rolled down her cheeks in torrents, and Gabi could see her mother’s open mouth, twisted by the pain and anguish that poured out with every cry. Without warning, she grabbed a vine of a pepperine shrub, screamed at the top of her lungs, and tore it from the plant with her bare hands. She twisted and folded the vine time and time again until it was nothing more than a pile of green and blue fibers at her feet, tinted red with blood from fresh wounds on her hands.
“I can’t do it, Gabi,” she screamed.
Gabi took a step back. It took a moment for her body to react, but her mind raced as it processed the terrible outburst that she saw from her mother. It told her one thing.
Run.
As she began to cry, Gabi ran away toward the beach. She reached the bank and stumbled over. She thrust her hands out in front of her, and they broke her fall as she avoided landing face first. Gabi picked herself up and sprinted along the beach as quickly as her short legs could carry her. She tried to find Kelly or Kristin Vandemark, but the beach was empty except for a couple fishermen dragging their dugout canoe onto the shore.
Gabi fell to her knees, exhausted and alone. She cried as loudly as she could, trying to shake off the memory of her mother ripping apart the plant with such anger that she didn’t seem to feel the cuts that the vine inflicted in her hands. Even as she tried to put aside this memory, other older ones haunted her; watching her father being beaten to death by the side of the river, and witnessing the death of her father’s killer at the hands of her friend Haruka.
She felt a warm, sandy hand on her back. “Are you okay, dear?”
Her eyes opened, and through her tears she saw the two fishermen kneeling beside her. One man looked very squared and muscular, and the other was so lean that she could see his ribs whenever he shifted. Though both men sported coarse, stubbly beards, they regarded her with soft, kind eyes.
“Are you lost?” asked the muscular man.
Gabi shook her head and sniffed. She continued to sob, but only softly; the presence of the men and the feel of a comforting touch calmed her nerves.
“Did something happen?”
She nodded. The fishermen exchanged glances and nods.
“Are you hurt?” the lean one asked. Gabi shook her head. “Are you looking for your friends?”
She nodded slowly. She took two deep breaths, wiped the last tear from her cheek, and settled down.
“You want us to take you back to them?”
Again she nodded. The muscular man handed his bucket to his friend, and then hoisted Gabi up to his chest. She threw her arms around his neck and rested her head against his broad, solid shoulder. He rose to his feet in one smooth motion and started along the path that led to the village, followed closely by the leaner man, who carried a bucket and two long, pointed sticks.
“Wow, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?” he asked. She paused for a second then nodded. “What’s your name?”
“G-Gabi.”
The lean man’s eyes got wide for a second. “The Serrano girl.”
“Oh, Jesus,” the other man muttered.
“Better take her to Dad.”
“Yeah, good idea.”
Gabi watched over the muscular fisherman’s shoulder as they climbed the hill. The sun shimmered on the endless expanse of water. She easily picked the dull gray form of the broken sleeper pod out of the landscape; it contrasted starkly from the white sands and green shrubs that surrounded it.
At last they passed between the two nearly completed huts that marked the entrance of the village. Camp Eight was very much alive, buzzing with the sounds of conversation and construction.
The fishermen took her inside Dr. Petrovsky’s house. She was set down on the floor, and the doctor appeared from behind a short wall an instant later.
“Gabi?” he asked, then cocked his head to the side and looked up at the two men. “Nick, what happened?”
“I don’t know,” replied the lean man. “We found her crying on the beach, with no one else around.”
“Thank you for bringing her back,” Petrovsky replied with a sigh. “I’ll take care of her.”
The fishermen took their leave, but did not secure the storm curtain. Bright patches of light illuminated the clinic floor, dancing and swaying as the winds dangled the curtain. Dr. Petrovsky led Gabi to a bed near the back wall and sat her down.
“Have you had lunch yet, dear?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“Alright. Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”
Gabi nodded curled up on the rough bed as the doctor went outside. The clinic was quiet; no one else was in the room. Only brief clips of conversations as colonists walked past the clinic broke the monotony of the rustling curtain. Gabi’s stomach began to growl, and after a few minutes she became restless. She wandered the clinic, looking at every bed, pillow, and piece of stray bark in the room as she hummed a soft tune.
More time passed, and she began to wonder if Doctor Petrovsky was coming back with her food. She returned to the bed and threw herself down. Her stomach rumbled again, and with it she felt a faint twinge of pain.
Mama yelled at me, and Doctor went away.
She buried her face in the fibrous green cover of the bed. She felt the tears about to burst forth from her, but then sat bolt upright as she heard the storm curtain being pulled back. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation of the doctor’s return, but instead, Haruka emerged from the brilliant sunshine that shone through the open portals. She saw Gabi and smiled, taking long strides to reach her.
“Hi, Gabi! How are you, sweetie?”
“Hungry,” she whined, and put her hands on her gurgling belly.
“I’m sorry. Where’s Doctor Petrovsky?”
Gabi pointed her finger at the door.
“Alright. What about your mom? Hasn’t she given you lunch?”
Gabi turned away and folded her arms across her chest. She folded her chin down so far that it almost touched her chest.
“Gabi? Where’s your mom?”
“Mama doesn’t love me anymore,” she muttered under her breath.
Haruka paused, and then her gentle hand fell on Gabi’s shoulder. “I’m sure she does, sweetie. She’s just…”
“No, she doesn’t love me,” Gabi screamed. “I hugged her and she screamed and yelled and ripped things up and threw them and yelled at me some more.”
“When you hugged her?” Haruka gasped.
“Yeah. She was crying and I wanted to make her feel better. But she didn’t want a hug, and yelled at me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Haruka said and slipped her arms around Gabi’s slender body. Gabi returned the embrace, comforted by the warmth of her friend.
“I don’t know why she doesn’t love me,” she said, her voice trembling.
“She loves you. I bet there was some other reason she’s upset. I don’t think she’s upset at you.”
Gabi wiped her eyes and looked at her friend. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I promise.”
Gabi nodded. Haruka let her go and stood up. The storm curtain opened again, and Dr. Petrovsky stepped through the threshold with a coarse wooden platter laden with fruits and baked roots.
“Good day, Captain,” he said cheerfully. “Gabi, I have something for you.”
He walked to the short stump near the rear of the clinic and set down the platter. She could smell the roots and caught a glimpse of a pepperine. She bolted from the bed and had her hands in the food in a matter of seconds. The pepperine was juicy, squirting its sweet nectar all over her hands as she sunk her teeth into it. Gabi closed her eyes and savored every bite of the fruit. She then tore into the tubers, which had a hint of sweetness to them.
In the background, Dr. Petrovsky and Haruka were engaged in a conversation. Gabi only caught a few of the words that were spoken, but forgot about them as
she gorged herself on the planet’s newfound foods.
Darius Owens
13 April, Year of Landing, 06:43
Gabriel landing site
Something Rory had mentioned as he spooned a glop of reconstituted eggs on Darius’s plate had stuck with him longer than the breakfast itself had.
You’ve said that this doctor guy was being charged, and that one of your shipmates was charged as well. So why hasn’t there been a court martial?
It was a question that couldn’t be ignored. No matter how Darius attacked the problem, he couldn’t figure out an answer.
Why? Why hasn’t Eriksen started proceedings against Lieutenant Reid?
It didn’t make any sense. Colonel Eriksen was very insistent on the process of Doctor Kimura’s trial being quite public, with the exception of Darius’s possible testimony.
Something doesn’t add up.
The camp that surrounded the rear flank of Gabriel had become disorganized. Several of its occupants had moved on to other tasks, some far away from camp. Others had moved from tent to tent, searching for a prime location for their families to operate from. Some valued shelter close to the hull of the ship, while others were inclined to seek out plots that were close to camp amenities such as the wash station or the kitchen. Darius knew that Don Abernathy had relocated his family, although he was not entirely sure where. Darius searched the row along Gabriel’s wall, but did not find any sign of the attorney or his family.
Come on. Where are you?
He continued along the far row, extending out from the wall toward the river. He found the Abernathy family in the corner, far from the wall, with no neighbors occupying the adjacent tents.
“Mr. Abernathy,” he said as he approached, hand extended.
Don took his hand and shook vigorously. “Darius. What brings you to see me today? I thought you were working.”
“That can wait,” he replied. “I’ve got a bit of a problem, and I think you can give me the best advice.”
“Am I going to have to charge you for this?” Don replied with a smirk.
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 66
