Andrea yawned and squirmed, burrowing closer to him. Cal gently stroked her nose. He watched as her eyelids finally closed, surrendering to slumber.
A gentle knock at the front door preceded Hunter, who entered cautiously. Cal brought his finger to his lips to indicate the required silence, and his friend nodded, closing the door as quietly as the rusty hinges allowed. Hunter padded to the counter and grinned.
“I think I’ve solved your problem,” he whispered.
“Oh great,” Cal replied in kind. “Which one? Because you know I’ve got a few.”
“That needing to do three things at once problem. Brewing, selling, and parenting.”
“Right. Which part are you fixing?”
“Selling. I had a discussion with Devereaux about your situation. He thinks it might be a bit of a hassle for you to hire someone for your sales floor, so he’s considering a permanent supplier agreement for just about everything you make.”
Cal readjusted in his seat to lean forward, making sure not to disturb Andrea. “What do you mean by just about?”
“He’s going to write up a contract and bring it over. You’ll still sell your fuel to the government, that part doesn’t change. He won’t be selling your laundry soap, someone else wanted that. But everything else he will take. Exclusively. Good terms, too.”
“Why not the laundry soap?” Cal asked, confused as to who else would want it.
Hunter grinned and reached into his pocket. When he withdrew his hand, he held a folded piece of paper between his fingers. He flicked his wrist forward slightly, offering it to Cal. Cal took it, eyeing it suspiciously before unfolding it and reading.
“This is from Saika,” Cal whispered. Hunter nodded, his grin growing wider. “It’s a contract.”
Cal’s lips began to move as he read the words. “…exclusive purchase rights to all production of McLaughlin laundry soaps, to be marketed and sold by Kimura Clothiers.”
“Step one. Step two is when Devereaux’s paperwork shows up.”
“…Purchase of the entire production is guaranteed by Saika Kimura, and Calvin McLaughlin is entitled to retain a reasonable amount of product for personal use. This contract is valid in perpetuity, subject to the legal standing of both businesses, blah blah blah, price per unit, more legal mumbo jumbo…” Cal looked up at his friend and beamed. “You mad genius. I could kiss you.”
Hunter chuckled under his breath. “Saika’s giving you better terms for your soap than Devereaux would have. She doesn’t care as much about the profit, she just wants a respected product to put on her shelves. Smart of her to snake it from him, in my opinion. It’ll keep people walking in her door in case interest in her clothes slumps off.”
Cal grabbed a pen and signed the contract. “Hope Devereaux’s not too upset about that move. Speaking of, when is he bringing his offer?”
“Whenever is convenient for you. Tonight, if you want. Just give the word and I’ll let him know.”
“Yeah, tonight sounds fine. Six PM? Hopefully Andrea will be settled in by then.”
“Sure,” Hunter nodded.
A low grumble echoed through the air. Cal looked around, not sure of what would be causing it. Hunter looked equally confused. The racket escalated quickly, and Cal felt like his chest was being rattled. The pen he had just used jumped around on the counter. With one last glance at each other, Cal and Hunter shot through the front door as quickly as their legs could carry them. Andrea squealed in protest, trying to bury herself in Cal’s chest. Cal’s neighbors were equally in the dark as to the source of the noise. Many of them had taken to the street, looking around wildly.
Just as the noise was reaching painful levels, the street was eclipsed in shadow for just a couple seconds. Cal looked up and his jaw immediately dropped in surprise. There, overhead, was a sleeper ship. Its chemical thrusters burned furiously as it tried to slow for landing, and their shockwaves knocked Cal and Hunter off their feet. Just as quickly, the ship was gone, its deafening thrum fading into the distance.
Cal scrambled to his feet. He checked on Andrea, who was screaming in terror but otherwise unharmed. Hunter dusted himself off and mouthed something, though between the ringing in his ears and Andrea’s ear-splitting cries, he couldn’t hear for several minutes.
“Was that what I think it was?” Cal gasped.
“That couldn’t have been another ship,” Hunter said in utter disbelief. “There were three. Two are here, the other burned up.”
Raphael?
“We never found wreckage, Hunter.”
He shot Cal an incredulous look. “Six years, Cal? You can’t tell me that thing’s been up there for six years and we had no clue. We would have had radio contact. We would have seen them. No, that’s not the other ship. It can’t be.”
“Well then just what the hell was it?”
Hunter couldn’t answer him.
Gov Darius Owens
5 July, 6 yal, 9:12
North Concordia
“Will you quit pacing, Governor? You’re making me nervous,” Tom complained.
Darius paused only a moment to shoot a look of disapproval at his deputy. “You should be nervous, Tom. You know damn well that was another sleeper ship.”
“Right, but wearing out Foundation Street isn’t going to change that. Plus you’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
Corporals Barajas and Inouye rushed past Darius on their way to Benedict Square. Their M4 carbines were slung over their shoulders, and the men wore expressions of worry on their faces. The governor had called up the CVM as soon as the mystery ship flew over, and most of them had assembled as ordered, with the last of the stragglers only now finding their way. But as another three of their rank and file passed by, Darius was struck by how inexperienced most of them were.
The Colonial Volunteer Militia only drilled a handful of days a year. Much of their officer corps was made up of the former ship crews, but the rest of the force was green. The CVM had a capable commander in Captain Frank Devereaux, but some of the newer volunteers were only in middle school when the ships left Earth. Darius had deep concern about their ability should combat arise. For that matter, he was concerned that the Militia might not even expect combat at all.
Rumor quickly spread through the colony that the strange ship was Raphael, and that their crew had somehow found a way to keep the ship alive for years, until they could make it back to the planet. Darius and the ship crews knew this wasn’t the case. Even if Raphael’s reactor hadn’t gone critical, the ship that flew over Concordia was much smaller, perhaps only a quarter of the size of Michael or Gabriel. Someone else had to have the technology to build that ship.
We could not allow for the possibility that another sleeper ship could be built, Dr. Kimura’s voice echoed deep in his mind. If so much as one sleeper ship were to follow us, carrying soldiers…
“They would easily conquer the colony,” he muttered under his breath. A conversation from decades earlier. A horrifying possibility in the present.
Does Tom understand this? Does he know what I know?
Darius closed his eyes and cycled two deep breaths.
Now you understand why Dr. Benedict stayed behind, Dr. Kimura’s explanation continued. To destroy all plans and records for Project Columbus.
I guess you failed, Doc, Darius thought.
Darius opened his eyes and folded his hands behind his back. Benedict Square was right in front of him. The CVM was mustered, and had fallen into parade rest. As Captain Devereaux walked toward him, Darius counted the number of Militia present. Not a single uniform was to be found among them. There was no time for them to get dressed, only to grab their rifles and report for duty.
Seventy six. Seventy seven, counting Devereaux. He sighed and saluted Captain Devereaux upon approach.
“Governor Owens, sir,” Devereaux addressed him. “The Militia has heard your call, and stands ready. What are your orders, sir?”
“Captain, I’m sure you are aware of t
he reported sighting of an unknown sleeper ship,” Darius began. “You are to march with the CVM and find this ship, determine its origin, and report back. By my orders, you are hereby given authority to seize up to six horses from the surrounding farms, to be used in this action at your discretion.” Darius glanced at Tom, then jerked his head and cleared his throat. Tom nodded and walked away. When Darius turned back to the captain, his voice was hushed. “If this ship is from Earth, we have no idea who or what she holds. I don’t want you walking into a trap. Pray this is a group of survivors, Captain, but assume they are hostile unless they prove otherwise.”
“Yes sir.”
Darius leaned in close to Devereaux’s ear. “If they appear military, or if you’re outgunned, you ambush them. You take them all down, no prisoners. Do you understand, Captain?”
Devereaux didn’t display a hint of emotion or surprise. He merely saluted and said, “Yes sir.”
Darius watched as Devereaux hustled back to his command, barking orders. In less than a minute, all seventy seven men and women were out of sight. Darius rubbed the stubble on his scalp. His deputy returned a moment later.
“When it rains it pours,” he remarked.
“It would seem that the deluge never ends, Tom.”
Tom nodded as he chewed his lip pensively. “Well, we’ve learned to swim pretty well around here. Maybe the river rises a little from this, but we’ll find a way to shore.”
Only if we didn’t just open the floodgates.
Gabrielle Serrano
6 July, 6 yal, mid afternoon
Mainland coast, est. 600 miles from tropical archipelago
“I don’t know, Will,” Caleb said apprehensively. “It looks like that storm’s ashore. We should be fine for another couple hours at least.”
Another day of debate over storms and maps. Another argument about supplies and timeframes. Gabi barely paid attention to them anymore. One way or another Will always got his way. Well, nearly. A week earlier, he almost had a mutiny on his hands when he didn’t want to pull ashore and let the crew off for the night. It was one of the exceedingly rare times that Marya and Gabi were in agreement, and working toward a common goal. It probably helped that each of them needed a break from the other’s presence, but neither wanted to be the one to make Will snap and finally drown them.
Today was an exception, though. Gabi was in tune with the conversation, and this time it was Will who wanted to go ashore, but Caleb was pressing the case of sailing onward. He argued that the storm ahead was no threat, though the whole sky was overcast, and Gabi couldn’t tell if the dark gray squall in the distance was even moving.
“Look,” he jabbed a thin finger on the crude map the young chief inherited from his father. “You’re sure we’re here, right? But that long spit of land over there is probably this,” he touched another point further along their projected path. “If we can get on the other side of that, there’s this big bay here that should be very sheltered. We can make our repairs there.”
“You’re assuming that we’re that far ahead,” Will countered. “I see that bay and it’s tempting. Lord knows we need a resupply, and having shelter like that would be incredible. But we’re back here,” he emphatically tapped on the original mark. “You’re talking two days’ sailing there, not a couple hours.”
Gabi lobbed a nearly empty water skin at Caleb, which he caught with little effort. “There’s your water for the next two days,” she glowered. “Don’t drink it all at once.”
“Very funny, Gabi,” he tossed it back.
“I’m serious. We’ll be dying of thirst by the time we make it there.”
“No we won’t. Will’s wrong about where we are.”
This prompted another vigorous round of debate between the two young men as to what features on the map each of them had seen, and when. Will’s argument almost always came back to the point that the map provided by the orbital probe didn’t have proper topographical demarcations, and that he was the only one who could read them properly. This time Caleb wouldn’t let the argument go, insisting that the landmass that sliced into the sea was a long, thin hook only a couple days from the river delta that was the ultimate goal of their sea voyage. From there the plan was simply to follow the river upstream to the landing site.
“So if we’re only a couple days away from landing, why is stopping now to resupply such a big issue, Caleb?” Will asked, not giving an inch.
Caleb threw up his hands. “Jeez, you can’t even give us two hours. Two stupid hours, Will. That’s all I’m asking.”
“We don’t have that anymore, Caleb,” Marya interrupted as she bounced from the outrigger to the main hull. “We’re getting a lot of chop out here, and the bow is bouncing funny. Like it’s twisting or something.”
Will sprang from his seat and hurried across to the outrigger. He knelt down at the front and peered intently at the bow.
“Damn it, she’s right. Number three is separating from the others. We need to put ashore right away.”
Gabi cringed at the report. The main hull was essentially three fishing canoes lashed together. Separation of one of the segments could mean their supplies getting swamped, or worse, the ship sinking. They had already once been forced to deal with the third canoe—which was the rightmost—separating from the others. Repairs took most of the day and much of what spare rope they had left. Gabi silently questioned whether or not they’d have enough left for another repair.
Almost unconsciously she checked her bow and the remaining arrows, then devoted similar attention to both her pack and tomahawks. As Will and Kristin steered the ship toward a tiny cove, others in the crew prepared to pull the ship out of the water. But as they neared the shore, that task grew much more complicated.
As they had ventured farther from their tropical homeland, the vegetation had grown much more sparse, and the species of trees—where they even existed—were now mostly what Will called ‘fir’ trees. Sandy beaches had given way hundreds of miles ago, replaced by gravel shores, then increasingly large rocks. This particular cove seemed to be mostly coarse gravel interspersed with jagged boulders almost as large as the ship. It would take all of their skill just to pull the ship in close enough to unload. Repair looked like it might be impossible.
The crew maneuvered around the hazards just offshore. Their landing was less than smooth, however. The hull scraped loudly on the gravel, coming to a stop with an abrupt lurch that had Gabi checking her balance. She hopped over the gunnels and gasped in surprise from the ice cold water that lapped at her shins. She heaved on the pylon in rhythm with the others, and a minute later the ship was completely on the shore.
There was a narrow margin of stony beach flanked by steeply rising banks. Giant timbers loomed over the cove, with occasional gnarled, stunted timbers growing awkwardly at the edge of the banks. They looked as if they might fall over at any moment, yet their roots clawed deeply into the dirt and wrapped impossibly around massive boulders. The spectacle was quite unlike anything that Gabi had ever seen, and it was only after Will roughly shoved her pack and bow into her hands that she realized that she was gawking. Shaking her head, she slipped on her pack and returned her focus to the task at hand.
“No time for sightseeing, Gabs,” Will barked. “Get Diego and go with Gina and Kris. We need you guys to set up camp. No way we’re going out again today. Get a fire going, look for water, and hunt if you can. We’ll be up as soon as we’ve patched up the boat.”
Gabi retrieved a few sections of mobile shelter, which consisted mostly of large woven mats that could be folded down for storage or tied together to expand and shape their sleeping space. Kris had already gone ahead, but Gina was easy to catch; she had to handle an awkward toddler in Daphne, and Diego had followed her out of habit. Gabi deposited her supplies at the top of the bank, then helped Gina get the children up the slope. Diego giggled and grabbed two of the shelter panels.
“Where we going?” he grinned at Gabi.
She
was about to snap at him and grab the pieces from his hands, but she had bigger issues on her mind. She collected what was left and led them into the thick undergrowth. Kristin had left a faint trail of broken branches and trampled bushes; Gina probably couldn’t have picked out the path without Gabi’s assistance. They walked for several minutes and over a short rise before they encountered the lone remaining Vandemark sister. She was hard at work clearing a patch of relatively flat ground. Gabi stashed her supplies at the base of a tree and set to work helping her. After a couple minutes, Diego joined in, grunting and tugging at the branches of a bush at the edge of the clearing. Gabi had to laugh just a little at his struggle. Diego was always eager to help, but an enthusiastic six-year-old was barely useful when it came to survival.
I hope the people from the other ships think he’s cute, she thought. She paused and reflected for a moment, as a dark idea clouded her mind. Will better be right about the other ships.
Diego redeemed himself when it came time to finally set up the shelter. Even as the winds picked up, swaying the tops of the trees and bringing the first drops of rain, he followed all of Gabi’s directions without complaint. The wind swept bitterly through the camp, slicing Gabi to her core. While she shuddered and her fingers fumbled, Diego didn’t seem bothered.
Karina and Aidan arrived a few minutes later with more supplies. Gabi was relieved of her duties, and she loaded up on empty water skins. Diego must have sensed that she was about to leave, and he immediately latched on to her, throwing his arms tightly around her.
“Don’t go,” he complained.
Gabi grimaced and pried him off. “I’m just getting water. Go make yourself useful. Find some kindling or something.”
Diego paused for a moment before nodding. Gabi slipped from the camp and took stock of her surroundings. The fir trees gave off a pungent smell that she hadn’t expected, though it was pleasant. Thick tangles of undergrowth reminded her in many ways of the home they had abandoned only weeks earlier. Though the land was unfamiliar, the basic concepts that Will had taught her over the years came back quickly. She was able to find a small creek only a few hundred feet from their campsite that was more than sufficient to fulfill her needs. Laden with water, she climbed victoriously back to the others.
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 111
