Project Columbus: Omnibus

by J. C. Rainier

  Darius Owens

  21 April, Year of Landing, 08:58

  Gabriel

  The droning of the crowd around him drowned out the sounds of the planet. In turn, Darius tuned them out to listen to his own thoughts.

  So this is what it all comes down to. The plot of the conspirators. The years of hiding. The schemes of Colonel Eriksen. The trial itself. It all comes to an end.

  There was no doubt that the trial would be at an end today. The jury had delivered a message to Captain Quinn stating they had a verdict. The revelation spread like wildfire as it jumped from lips to ears in the camp. Each new bearer of the news took it to their friend or neighbor, and in under an hour, there was not a single person left within the camp that did not know that Dr. Kimura’s fate was to be announced at nine in the morning.

  Some had taken breakfast early in hopes that they could find a spot in the front of the crowd with a premium view of the court stage above. A steady stream had followed, and the base of the ramp had soon been obscured behind a wall of bodies. As he looked around, he estimated that only a couple hundred colonists were not present, mostly children. The crowd still numbered over a thousand, and it fanned out for hundreds of feet in all directions from the ship’s stern. Darius had not arrived early, and was near the rear of the crowd, and well off to the side.

  Will I even be able to see Doctor K? Or hear what’s going on?

  Even when he had been at the front of the crowd during testimony, occasionally it was difficult for him to hear. He now had to rely on the lungs of the jury foreperson, as well as hope that his neighbors remained quiet through the process.

  The intensity of the whispered gossip increased. Arms in the crowd shot up and pointed to the stage at something just beyond an overhanging bulkhead. Darius craned his neck to see, but could not get a view of anything but the rear of the ship, and an occasional glimpse of Fred Hausner against the far wall.

  They’re starting.

  Darius straightened up and came to a parade rest out of habit. He waited for the crowd to cease its commotion as the seconds ticked by. The noise abated somewhat, but his hopes of being able to hear dimmed.

  “Madam foreperson,” Quinn belted out, though Darius could barely hear him. “Have you reached a verdict?”

  “We have,” Darius could just make out the voice of the speaker, though she remained hidden from sight.

  “On the first count, treason, how do you find?”

  “Not guilty.”

  The crowd seemed to let out a breath as one. Tension still hung thick in the air, and every eye was fixed on what part of the spectacle they could find. Fred Hausner, the prosecutor, was what Darius fixated on; the dignified lawyer gave no reaction except pursing his lips and bringing a single finger up to them.

  That’s gotta be eating the colonel up inside. Darius wanted to laugh at the thought, but dared not move.

  “On the second count, sabotage of government property, how do you find?”

  “Not guilty.”

  Another sigh of relief came from the crowd, though as he looked around, Darius saw a few colonists shaking their heads.

  One more, Doc…

  “On the final count, theft of government property, how do you find?”

  “Guilty.”

  Darius felt his stomach tighten like someone had punched him. He opened his mouth and gasped. He was not the only one; others around him let loose similar displays of disbelief. At once gossiping began under the breaths of those around him, and the air was abuzz with chatter. He strained to hear more from the ship. Though he could make out that someone was speaking, he could not hear.

  Less than a minute later, the throng erupted into curses and shouting, directed at the rear of the ship. Insults and boos hurtled at the passive, unyielding hull of the ship.

  Darius edged forward with his shoulder, tapping the person in front of him. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” the man shook his head. He caught the attention of someone in front of him, and repeated Darius’s question. Darius waited a minute for the information to come back through whispers in the crowd. An incredulous gasp escaped the man’s lips. “The colonel sentenced him to life in a sleeper berth. Both of the lawyers are arguing with him right now.”

  “Life in a sleeper berth?” Darius gasped. “For theft?”

  “That’s what I heard.” He looked around. “I’d say that it’s true, just by the way everyone’s looking like they’re about to riot. I don’t know, man. I don’t really think he was guilty of any of it. Not after what the government tried to pull.”

  A single shot rang out over the screaming crowd. Darius flinched, along with many others. Some shrieked and ducked.

  What the hell?

  Darius wove his way forward in the crowd to get a better view. He stopped after a few feet as he saw Colonel Eriksen’s square form standing a third of the way down the ramp, holstering his pistol.

  “It has been brought to my attention,” he shouted, “that the sentence for Doctor Kimura’s crime is excessive and cruel.” He paused for just over two seconds. “It is a serious offense, make no mistake. As such, it should carry severe punishment. I stand by my sentence. Doctor Kimura is to be placed in biostasis and serve a life term. Because he will age only a little in stasis, I am defining life as fifty two years, which was Doctor Kimura’s age at the time of launch. No parole will be considered.”

  Eriksen walked back up the ramp and out of sight. No one moved for a minute after he left, and even then only slowly. They talked amongst themselves and the crowd began to break up. Darius did not move with them; his feet were rooted, and he cast his gaze at the ship as he stood with a slacked jaw.

  That might just be worse for Doc than killing him.

  He was about to turn away back to camp when his eyes caught a familiar face in the crowd, meandering slowly in his general direction.

  No.

  Darius checked around him for onlookers and then sidled up to the slender, blond-haired boy and his shorter companion. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  The boy startled, and his friend quickly stepped between them.

  “We’re just on our way out. We needed to see what was going on for ourselves,” Calvin replied.

  “Was satisfying your curiosity worth it?” Darius retorted in a low whisper. “Now do you understand why you should get your ass across that river as fast as possible?”

  “It would be easier if you’d quit drawing attention to us,” replied the dark-haired companion, Sergeant Drisko. “We know you’re on Eriksen’s radar as a threat, so give us some space.”

  “We couldn’t contact you. Why didn’t the computer bug work?” Calvin added quickly.

  “Because my contact has been working too closely with the colonel to be able to get to the computer.”

  “Has he turned?”

  “No, but he’s being watched too closely to do anything.”

  Calvin nodded. “We’ll find another way. Good luck, Darius.”

  The pair quickly distanced themselves from Darius and disappeared into the stream of colonists leaving the trial. His thoughts quickly returned to the trial, and the consequences of Doctor Kimura’s conviction.

  Fifty two years in a sleeper berth, he thought. Sarah might as well be a widow now, since she’ll never see her husband again. And Saika… Darius shook his head and sighed. That poor girl has got to be going insane. She may never see her father again either, her husband’s still facing a court martial, and she’s pregnant.

  He turned the corner around the rear of the ship and walked between its hull and the first row of tents in the encampment. The sun was starting to rise over the steel of Gabriel. As he walked, his face went from the blinding morning sun into the shadows and back again, and his vision became filled with dancing, phantom dots. Darius rubbed his eyes in a vain effort to shake them off.

  At least Doc wasn’t convicted of treason. Maybe Mr. Abernathy can find a way to get his sentence reduced,
or convince the colonel to let him work it off. Maybe if we approach it as being a death sentence, because the ship’s reactor only has another forty years of fuel…

  He heard a rustling and footsteps behind him, and knew at once that he was being followed. The crowd had already dissipated. His skin began to crawl as he stopped and turned around. Darius saw the fist swing toward him, but had no time to react as it crashed into his right cheek. He spun around and fell to his hands and knees. A sharp pain burned in the side of his face. He wheeled around onto his butt and looked up.

  Major Holden Kintney towered above him, dressed not in a flight suit, but in jeans and a light gray t-shirt. He bared his slightly crooked teeth through a snarl. Dark brown stubble adorned his chin, broken by bare patches just below his cheekbones where the hair didn’t grow. His brown eyes flared menacingly as he shook his hand loosely into the air, then rubbed it with his other hand.

  “Damn,” Kintney growled. “Your head is just as thick as Colonel Eriksen said, Owens. That actually hurt.”

  Darius turned again onto his knees, intent on running away from the major. He did not make it to his feet, as he saw two more sets of denim-clad legs. He craned his neck upward to find Sergeant Marks and Airman Garza looming over him. Darius slowly rose to his feet and turned to face the major.

  “So this is how the colonel is sending messages now?” Darius asked defiantly.

  Kintney’s snarl turned to a wicked grin, and he nodded once at the men behind Darius. They grabbed his arms and restrained him while Kintney delivered two punishing blows to his abdomen. Darius coughed and gasped for breath.

  “I don’t need any attitude from you, sympathizer. I’m just giving you a little something to think about.”

  Sympathizer?

  “Yeah, I know, you want me to butt out while Eriksen makes an example of someone. I get it.”

  Kintney hammered home another hard blow, this time to the left side of his jaw. A stabbing pain shot through his tongue, and the acrid taste of blood filled his mouth.

  “Reid isn’t an example. He’s a traitor. You’re pretty close to that territory yourself, Owens. If I had my way, I’d throw you in the damned river and make you swim home where you belong.”

  “Do it,” Darius taunted. “Watch how long it takes him to send someone else after you. Oh, and ask him why after you piss him off. He loves that.”

  Another hit slammed into Darius’s face. His legs buckled, and for a moment he couldn’t figure out how he stayed upright. He then remembered the arms holding him back. He shook his head and looked at the major, but his vision was blurred, and he could only make out the outline of his assailant.

  “I’ve got your attention now, right? Good. Now what did you tell your sympathizer friends? The ones that came over from Michael?”

  “They’re not my friends,” Darius replied. “And I told them to go home.”

  “And what about before that?”

  “Nothing. This isn’t their business. I told them to go home and leave me alone.”

  “Looks like he’s too dumb to understand, boys,” Kintney said in a sarcastic tone. “Maybe I should make this simple.” Darius saw the blur get larger, and his head was lifted by the chin. He was aware that the major was now in his face, and his rank breath nearly made Darius gag. “Stay away from Reid. Don’t try to stop or sabotage his court martial. If you do, I’ll take you swimming myself.”

  Darius was shoved roughly to the ground, where he rolled over onto his back and regained his breath. “I’ll get my swim trunks ready,” he muttered.

  He lay on his back for some time. His body ached and his head felt like a shoe in a dryer. He spat out a glob of red-tinted saliva, and tapped his tongue on his cheek to see how badly cut it was. The taste of iron subsided, and his tongue didn’t throb, so he figured that it was not severely damaged. He sat up and looked around at the nearby tents, which came into focus after a minute. No other colonists were around.

  Damn it. No one saw that, did they?

  He climbed to his feet and made his way for the mess tent, hoping to seek the counsel of either Rory or Don. He stumbled many times along the way. The fourth time he fell, about halfway between the ship’s hull and the mess, he was stopped by a familiar voice.

  “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of this whole Kimura business?” Quinn asked, seething with animosity.

  Darius sighed and squared himself to the redheaded brick. “You did. I didn’t think you’d resort to this, though.”

  “I wish I could take credit. This is all Eriksen. Though he does have an interesting way of persuading people, I have to admit.”

  Darius coughed once as he continued past the captain. “I’m not convinced. Tell Eriksen he’ll need to send the major to talk to me again. I didn’t quite hear what he was saying.”

  Calvin McLaughlin

  21 April, Year of Landing, 10:01

  Michael

  “It’ll be just another minute, guys,” Hunter said. His feet clanked on each step as he hustled down the stairs from the bridge. “Colonel Dayton has been in briefings all morning with field teams and the civil engineering staff. He’s just wrapping up his last meeting now and will be ready for you then.”

  “Busy day?” Cameron sneered mockingly as he leaned up against the bulkhead next to the airlock.

  “Sorry, Cam,” he replied. “He wanted to see you the minute you got back, but the civil engineers have been arguing with each other and talking his ear off. They wouldn’t go until he finished mediating a dispute with the parceling of the planned city.”

  Only a few moments later, the clank of footsteps rang out from the bridge above. A tall, gray-haired man in a fleece jacket came down the stairs with a stack of papers in his hands, followed by a short, slender, middle-aged woman and a rotund, flannel-clad man with a shaggy beard and receding hair line. Cal watched as they passed, and caught Cameron giving them a dirty look as they exited the crew section of Michael.

  “Come on up,” Hunter said as he beckoned to the bridge.

  Cal stretched his weary legs before he walked side by side with Cameron up the familiar stairs. The command chair was facing them, flanked on all sides by abandoned workstations, their screens glistening with the reflection of the mid day sun. Colonel Dayton sat in his familiar seat, rubbing his eyes. As the two approached, he leaned forward and folded his hands in his lap. Cameron snapped to attention as soon as he stopped.

  “Sorry for the delay, gentlemen. I’m starting to remember why I decided to go career in the military. Too much bickering and not enough compliance today,” he said with a weak smile, waiting for a response that never came. “What do you have to report, Sergeant?”

  “Sir, we went over to Gabriel’s camp as requested. There was something going on over there, and we had a difficult time finding our contact at first. One of the colonists confronted us when we asked about Lieutenant Owens. It seemed that he was protecting Mr. Owens, but once we relayed that we were also working with Owens, he gave us some useful information.”

  Cameron paused for a moment. Dayton raised his eyebrows and asked, “And that was?”

  “That Doctor Kimura’s trial had completed, and the jury was delivering their verdict. He also let us know that the situation was too dangerous for us to stay around and risk getting caught.” He cleared his throat and gave Cal a cold glance. “But Cal ignored that and went to attend the trial anyway, forcing me to stay with him for his own protection.”

  “I see,” Dayton replied as he scratched at his freshly trimmed beard. “Were you able to get anything from your risky little venture there, Mr. McLaughlin?”

  Cal nodded. “It was worth it. Doctor Kimura was found guilty of only one of the three charges.”

  “Which one?”

  “Theft of government property. Colonel Eriksen gave him a life sentence in stasis.”

  “Life in stasis?” Dayton asked, a confused look creeping onto his face. “How the hell do you define life in a box that basically suspend
s your life?”

  “He clarified it right after, sir,” Cameron interrupted. “As being Doctor Kimura’s age when they left Earth. I think it was fifty some odd years.”

  “Fifty two,” Dayton corrected. “The command staff attended his last birthday party.” He let out a heavy sigh and cast his gaze at the deck plate for a moment. When he raised his head, he had paled, and his eyes were full of sorrow. “Either he’s a colossal idiot, or he’s found a clever loophole. He just passed a death sentence on Doctor Kimura.”

  “What?” Cal gasped.

  “Colonel’s right, Cal,” Cam added in a hushed voice. “The ships were loaded with enough fuel to run their reactors for eighty years. Forty or so in space to get here, the rest on the ground to power the colony. The sleeper units will run out of power when the fuel’s expended, and they will shut down. He’ll choke to death before he can wake up and escape.”

  “What the hell is he hoping to prove over there?” Dayton mused. He stood up and straightened his flight suit, then walked to the railing between the nav and ops consoles. He looked out of the massive, open canopy at the trees on the far bank of the river. “He’s doing everything he can to prosecute and punish the conspirators in his custody. I’m trying to stall the legal hounds on this side of the river and keep Major Forrest from having to face a trial. If they get wind of what Eriksen has been up to, I’ll be forced to hold a court martial over here.”

  “Excuse me for asking, Colonel, but why are you delaying a court martial?” Cal asked.

  “Because what’s done is done. I can’t go into the past and reverse what the major is accused of doing. A part of me wouldn’t want to, even if I could. After interviewing him, I’m not convinced that he was wrong to do it. But he’s accused of a capital crime, and that would mean death if he is convicted. And for what? To exact revenge on him for something done decades ago to a government we’re not even sure exists anymore? No, I’d rather have him working to better the colony. Everything that he has done so far has been to that end.”