Project Columbus: Omnibus

Home > Other > Project Columbus: Omnibus > Page 83
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 83

by J. C. Rainier


  “It’s not a big colony,” Rory remarked casually. “Four thousand people. Heck, one or two debates will probably be enough for folks to make up their minds.”

  “And just who are you thinking of putting up there for election, Mr. Owens?”

  He shrugged. “Whoever the people want. Civilians only.”

  The scowl on Dayton’s face twisted even further, and his lip curled to reveal his teeth. “And what have I done to you that makes you want me to stand aside so quickly?”

  “Nothing. I wasn’t finished.” He drew in and expelled a deep breath, placing the pen down in front of him. “Though your question brings me to the final condition I want to propose. All officers and crew of both ships are to resign from service effective seventy-two hours from acceptance of this proposal.”

  Silence descended quickly. Darius locked his stare on Colonel Dayton, who returned the favor in kind. Darius was vaguely aware that the remaining delegates were shifting their focus back and forth between the two of them, apparently waiting for one of the men to blink. Dayton’s cheeks flushed, and his lips twitched. Darius’s heart beat furiously in his chest, and it took most of his remaining concentration to keep his hands steady.

  Without warning, Dayton shot from his chair. The chair scraped along the deck plating with a pained metallic screeching. Dayton stormed from the bridge without a word, his footsteps fading into the distance after a few seconds. The table remained silent, and those present leaned back in their chairs and looked at their papers or each other, save for one; Cal McLaughlin took his leave just a few seconds after Dayton, following him into the body of the ship.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Don whispered in his ear.

  He couldn’t answer. He was starting to realize that he may have single-handedly destroyed the negotiations.

  Calvin McLaughlin

  3 May, Year of Landing, 08:37

  Michael

  “Colonel, wait up!”

  Cal nearly missed his footing on the last tread as he charged down the stairs. He steadied himself quickly before bolting through the open airlock in pursuit of Dayton.

  “Sir, wait!”

  The commander had made it a little more than halfway to the first pair of sleeper pods when he stopped and wheeled around. The wild look in his eyes and the twisted sneer on his face were further evidence of his fury.

  “Who the hell does he think he is?” Dayton fumed as he took three long strides forward. “Who the hell comes to a negotiation table and demands your resignation? Has he lost his mind?”

  Cal put up his hands in a calming gesture. “Take a deep breath, sir.”

  “Can it, Mr. McLaughlin. I’m not going to sit here and let him insult me like that.”

  “I don’t think he meant it that way.”

  And if he did, he’s a colossal ass.

  Dayton shook his head and walked away toward the rear of the ship again, prompting Cal to follow closely behind. “You of all people know just what kind of shit I’ve been through to get us all this far. Does he really think I’m just going to roll over and hand over the colony to some random Joe that the colonists pick?”

  Cal caught up to Dayton and grabbed his wrist, pulling him to a stop. The infuriated commander jerked his hand free and glared at Cal, but stood fast.

  “It doesn’t have to be random. He said a civilian, right?”

  “Right, and I’m not.”

  “Not yet. But if you resign, you will be.”

  “And then I’d have to get enough support to run.”

  “You’d have my support.”

  “It’s still a big risk doing that,” Dayton added, “when I don’t even have to listen to his demands in the first place. I can keep going the way I am.”

  “For how long, sir?” Cal replied instantly.

  The question seemed to catch the colonel off guard. Cal could tell that he was struggling to find an answer, and several times opened his mouth as if to speak, but after almost a minute, he prompted Cal to continue his explanation.

  “Other than the crews and the few Marines that made it onboard from Earth, no one here is used to being under military law,” he continued. “How long do you think they’ll accept that? The idea is as foreign as this planet is.”

  “They’ve accepted the planet. They’ll live a while longer under our authority.”

  “Why make them?” The question again had Dayton at a loss for words. “What would you give for just a little something that felt normal? That felt like Earth?”

  The commander sighed heavily. “After I did it, I thought I’d sold my soul. Just after we landed I had a couple pigs slaughtered so that we could… so that I could taste something familiar, that wasn’t bagged and vacuum sealed decades ago.”

  “I remember that,” Cal nodded.

  “I damn near had the rest of them butchered the next day because I wanted it again. I almost gave up bacon and pork chops for the rest of my life just to taste it a second time.”

  “So what do you think the people would give up for a taste of home? What do you think they’d be capable of, if it came down to it? You know everyone’s stressed out here, especially the crews.”

  Cal could hear the clank of footfalls as someone approached from the bridge. He glanced over his shoulder and found Dr. Taylor approaching them slowly.

  “Is everything alright?” she asked, cautiously slowing her pace at about twenty feet.

  With a quick jerk of his head Cal invited her to the discussion, and she approached the two men.

  “Cal here is trying to convince me that Mr. Owens is right. That we should all resign and have an election,” Dayton snorted.

  She placed her wrinkled, spotted hand on his shoulder. “Tom, we’ve known each other a long time, so don’t take this the wrong way. Do it. Accept his terms.”

  He regarded her for a long moment before pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and rubbing his eyes. “Et tu, Brute?”

  A frown crossed Dr. Taylor’s mouth. “I’m not trying to insult you. But you knew that the Operational Guidelines would eventually call for an election. Even the timing of that was supposed to be determined by Doctor Kimura and Doctor Fairweather. How long did you really think that the command staff would be running the colony?”

  “I was hoping at least a year.”

  “Well, I know that Doctor Kimura never intended for it to take that long,” she said softly. “He wanted them shortly after landing. Doctor Benedict felt that the first winter would be a good time, and Jon Fairweather never could make up his mind.”

  “That’s not helpful.”

  “So what would be helpful? And I don’t mean what would be helpful to you, I mean what would help the people.”

  Dayton’s brown eyes met Cal’s for a brief moment. “Healing. Trust. A sense of home,” he replied.

  “So what do we do then?” Cal asked.

  “I can’t say yet, Mr. McLaughlin. I have to think about it. If I say yes, quite a bit of our proposal needs to be rewritten, to say the least.”

  Of course, he thought. Because we were going to clarify that you were in command of all crew members, and to give a new command structure that would integrate everyone into one crew.

  “What would you like me to tell them, sir?”

  Dayton’s mouth disappeared behind his moustache as he pursed his lips. “Tell them that we will take their requests under consideration, and that we are adjourned for today. Tell them we’ll send a message when it’s time to meet again, and that if they wish, we will do so onboard Gabriel.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Cal turned toward the bridge, Dayton added one last request. “Also have them hold their vote to name the river. Give them something to do in the mean time.”

  He nodded and left the doctor and colonel to talk further. Cal walked slowly as he returned to the bridge, allowing him time to ponder whether or not Dayton would accept the proposal that Darius had made. As much as Cal admired Colonel Dayton’s ab
ility to lead, he personally agreed with Darius; affairs in the colony were already a mess, and an election might help bridge the gap between the two camps.

  If he does accept, will he even want to run? Or will this be too deep an injury to his pride?

  Cal straightened his posture as he climbed the stairs, hoping to exude a more dignified look. The four delegates from Gabriel tracked his every move as he approached his seat, as did Hunter. Cal stopped by his chair, but did not sit.

  “Colonel Dayton certainly isn’t happy with your proposal, Darius,” he said. He watched as the former officer nodded solemnly. “He will take it under consideration, but given that this was a surprise, the colonel wants me to let you all know that we are done for the day.”

  Don and Fred, the two attorneys from Gabriel, leaned in toward each other and exchanged whispers for a moment. Darius cast his eyes down at the table and slouched, while Rory Baines, the last delegate, began to tidy his workspace.

  “You’re not going to make your proposal today?” Don asked, his high voice registering his surprise.

  “Not today. We’ll send for you all again when Colonel Dayton is ready to proceed. Though in the mean time he does want you to have the people of Gabriel hold a vote on the river’s name, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course.” Don rose and extended his hand across the table, which Cal shook firmly. “We’ll be waiting for your word.”

  The remaining men from the delegation shook hands with Cal and took their leave, though Darius avoided eye contact but for a brief moment when his turn came. After they departed the bridge, Cal took his seat and threw his long legs up onto the table.

  “So what’s gonna happen now?” Hunter asked, slicing through the silence.

  Cal rubbed his eyes. “Now we wait and see what the colonel values more.”

  Capt Haruka Kimura

  5 May, Year of Landing, late afternoon

  Camp Eight

  All six of the hens in the cage squawked and clucked excitedly at Haruka’s presence. They strutted around, keeping two steps ahead of her hand as she ran it over the outside of the enclosure, inspecting its construction. The thin bars made from branches were lashed to the frame using coarse palm rope. Though the coop was slightly crooked, it was solid enough overall to serve its purpose. Several similar and smaller crates lay nearby outside the Palace, each containing a rooster. One particularly agitated bird crowed angrily at Haruka and flapped its russet colored wings.

  She lifted the hens’ cage slowly. Her muscles strained somewhat at the weight, but she was able to maneuver it around without too much effort. Satisfied, she set it back down.

  I’m not as strong as I used to be, but there are plenty of people here that can move these around if we need to, she noted. Troy does an amazing job given the materials he has to work with.

  The center of the village had grown just a little more; Troy’s crews had finished building two more huts, and were hard at work clearing a patch of ground for two more. Haruka had tried to lend a hand the previous day by picking up a pick to dig at tree roots, but Troy had dismissed her within a few minutes. Instead, she had found herself wandering around looking for something productive to do to occupy her time.

  This day had started much the same. With Maria joining the workforce and taking over much of the weaving from Haruka, she found that she had far more idle time than she preferred. The villagers knew what they were expected to do and who they were to report to, and for the most part, that wasn’t her. Only a handful of people would seek her out for updates and direction.

  Troy and James had all but shut her down from any form of physical labor, and there was little else to do. Earlier in the morning she had given the Vandemark girls a break from watching over the young children so they could attend one of Charlotte’s classes, but that task ended shortly after midday. None of the children had any interest in Haruka staying around, save for Gabi; they were far more used to having the older children play with them, and Haruka had a hard time keeping up with the kids during the more vigorous games.

  So what am I still here for? So the team leaders can pander to me and make me feel useful?

  She sighed and chose to seek comfort in one of her tranquility spots, where she knew she would be away from the eyes of the colony. Heading down the narrow road toward the shimmering sea, she chose the tiny jungle trail leading to the river estuary. The veil of trees and pepperine shrubs separated her from the white strand where the fishermen were sure to be at work, and children at play. By contrast, she was greeted by the calls of birds high above and acknowledged as she passed by a long, spear-headed lizard that clung to the gnarled limbs of a vinewood. She snagged two ripe pepperines from a bush, offering one to the lizard, which snatched it from her hand with its maw and disappeared higher into the tree. She sank her teeth deep into the flesh of the remaining fruit and continued on.

  Haruka emerged from the foliage at her favorite spot, and she sat cross-legged at the edge of the slow-moving river. After taking the last bite of her snack she discarded its core into the water. Only moments later the core bobbed and was inundated by a mass of fish hungrily picking at the remnants.

  She watched the spectacle for a minute before her thoughts drifted to back to the colony. As hard as she tried to find a task that she could do without her subordinates stopping her, she could not think of one that would be significant, or that she would be suited to. Frustration began to mount within her, rising along an increasing sense of uselessness.

  Almost mindlessly she began to pick whatever vegetation was close at hand and cast it into the river in clumps, as she used to do as a child. Dirt collected under her fingernails until the tips were almost pitch black, and her hands were stained green and blue by the pulp of grasses and leaves. The activity did little to comfort her, however.

  Not more than ten minutes later, James found her. He hustled down the beach to reach her, and she rose to greet him. His face wore an almost flat expression, save for the evidence of fatigue under his eyes.

  “Thought I might find you here,” he said.

  “Who ratted me out?” Haruka asked, equally amused and irritated by the intrusion.

  “No one. You’re just getting too predictable.”

  She shrugged. “Not many places I feel both safe and alone.”

  “There’s a whole jungle out there,” he remarked nonchalantly.

  “Yes, there is.”

  Silence settled between them for a couple seconds.

  “Is it Carney?” he asked quietly.

  Haruka shook her head vigorously. “No, Carney’s a ghost now. I’m a little more worried about the jaguars.”

  “Not the other ghosts out there?”

  It took her a second to realize that he was referring to Marco and Evans. She narrowed her eyes at him as her amusement quickly gave way to irritation.

  “Why are you here?” she snarled.

  He scratched at his beard and shuffled one foot along the ground. “It’s Maria again.”

  Again. She’s back to working, but that doesn’t seem to keep her out of trouble.

  “What is it this time?” she asked, releasing a sigh of exasperation.

  “She seems to have gone from one extreme to the other. She’s gone from doing absolutely nothing to doing nothing but work. And guess who’s caught up in her issues again?”

  “Gabi,” Haruka muttered almost under her breath.

  “That’s right. She picked yet another fight with Marya, this time in the middle of Charlotte’s class. Charlotte went to discipline her, and Maria flew off the handle. At both of them.”

  “Jesus, James. This is getting out of control. Maybe you should just take Gabi from her for a while, until Maria can sort out her issues.

  “Who knows when that will be, Captain,” he grumbled. “Besides, Gabi wanted to stay with her mom the last time I tried. I don’t think this time will be any different.”

  “Have you seen how scared she is of her mom now?”
/>   “Doesn’t mean a thing. She’s still her mom. Gabi’s not going to want to leave just because she gets yelled at. Kids aren’t like adults, remember?”

  Haruka had to take a moment to adjust her frame of perspective. The image of the girl who had survived alone in the woods overnight and hid from a jaguar well enough to let Haruka save her played in stark contrast to the concept of a terrified little girl with an abusive mother, but was too afraid to leave her mother’s side.

  “That’s not Gabi,” she countered.

  “It is. When you have kids of your own, you’ll see.”

  The words cut deep into her. Haruka scoffed and bit back a response about how her condition, both medically and matrimonially, would make that impossible. “Whatever. It’s time to get Ken or Emilia involved again. Maybe they can help her work through this.”

  James frowned instantly, and his crossed arms tightened against his chest. “We’ve been down that road already. Besides, we know that both Ken and Emilia have been talking about removing you from your duties.”

  “I know that. You’re not asking them to play nicely with me. You’re asking them to see if there’s anything else they can do for Maria. No matter how they feel about me, they can’t ignore her, or the pain she must be in.”

  “Fine. But you owe me one.”

  “Who’s counting at this point?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied as he turned away. “But you’re definitely keeping them busy.”

  Well, at least we know what I’m good at.

  Darius Owens

  6 May, Year of Landing, 08:05

  Gabriel

  The bridge of Gabriel looked much the way that its sister ship looked just a few days prior. Two folding tables butted up against each other to form the platform over which the negotiations would continue, and chairs from the workstations formed a ring around the tables, one of which was occupied by Rory. One key detail had been changed, and it left Darius feeling somewhat unsettled.

  At the head of what was to be the Michael delegation’s side sat the command chair, unbolted and dragged from its position at the head of the platform. It was a symbolic gesture that his companions wanted to make to Colonel Dayton; that they respected his position of command, and he should feel welcome to take his rightful seat. Darius had objected, as that specific chair had been granted to Colonel Eriksen when he assumed command of Gabriel all those years ago on Earth. While he could appreciate the sentiment that Don and Fred wanted to convey, Darius couldn’t help but feel that Dayton might take it the wrong way.

 

‹ Prev