When she returned she was shocked to see Will and Caleb. She had expected them to be on the beach well into the evening. They wore grim expressions on their faces, and Will shook his head as he conversed with his sister. Gabi shrugged off the extra equipment from her shoulders and hurried to him.
“Will? What’s wrong?” she asked.
“A little setback,” he replied quietly. He sighed heavily and motioned for the rest of the crew to gather around. Gina herded the younger children to the front of the circle as they formed around him.
This isn’t little. Gabi gulped and steeled herself.
“Our journey just got a bit longer,” Will said. A subtle stumble in his words led Gabi to believe he was struggling to hold back his frustration. “We can’t fix the ship. We’re going to have to hike overland from this point.”
“What?” Marya gasped. “How much longer will that take?”
Will shrugged. “That depends on how much progress we can make and how far away we are. The hike from our planned landing spot was probably going to be longer, but the terrain a lot easier. I guess this depends on how easily we can get over the mountains in our path.”
“Why don’t we just follow the sea?” Karina asked.
“Because that’ll take about four times longer. I’d like to get there some time before winter.”
“Do you even know where we’re going?”
Will folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll figure it out at first light tomorrow. We don’t really have a choice here. The ship would never make it around that peninsula, not in the shape it’s in now. She’s been good to us, but it’s time to leave her behind.” Will glanced over at Gabi and gave her a slight nod. “Gabi, I need you to go hunting now. Kris and Gina need to tend camp and watch the little ones. Everyone else with me. It’s time to salvage what supplies we can.”
Gov Darius Owens
6 July, 6 yal, 16:11
Seven miles northeast of Concordia
As Darius turned the palomino mare around he swiveled his head, locking his gaze on the ship that rested just a few hundred feet away.
Its hull was a dark gray that bore striking resemblance to the Project Columbus sleepers. Its design was a near copy, but in reduced scale. The bridge canopy was a little high, and protruded a little more like an early fighter’s cockpit. The sleeper pods themselves were the exact same size and shape as either of the other ships, but only two graced either side, compared to the six per side on Gabriel. The cargo pods were much smaller; they looked like intermodal containers that had been reinforced and refitted with thrusters. Upon initial inspection, Darius wasn’t even sure that they opened to the inner hull, or were airtight for that matter.
The cargo ramp on the strange vessel was on the front, tucked underneath the bridge, in place of the crew pod. It was wide open, and gave the impression that the ship was startled by something. The support and drive section were much smaller than the original XCS series design, which was consistent with its significantly reduced mass.
It was impressive in its own right, though the hardware itself didn’t shed any light on its origins. That information came from its occupants. In the field to the ship’s starboard side, dozens of men, women, and children huddled together in the light drizzle. They had been forced off of the ship by the CVM upon initial contact early in the morning. Most were unarmed. Those who did have weapons surrendered without a fight. The Militia conducted a sweep of the ship while Staff Sergeant Josephson rode back to Concordia to summon Darius. She was tight-lipped on the journey.
“You’ve got to see this,” was about all she would tell him. That, and, “They’re ours, Governor.”
American, Darius thought as he slowly rode closer. Civilians.
Captain Devereaux took the reins from Darius as he dismounted.
“How many of them are there, Captain?” he asked, unable to peel his eyes from the eager, nervous faces that watched him.
“Six hundred forty-two. Every single berth on the ship must have been occupied. They had two up on the bridge, I’m guessing for crew.”
Two from the bridge, six forty behind. Divide by four pods, he did the math in his head. The pod layout must be exactly the same as ours. That’s odd.
“No trouble with them?” Darius asked as he looked around. The ship had landed in the middle of a wide grassland, with only the shortest of rolling hills for concealment. It was a great place to land a ship, and a horrible place to attempt an ambush. Darius was suddenly very thankful that the CVM didn’t need to engage in battle here.
“No sir. They saw us coming and popped the hatch. Surrendered without any incident. It’s like they expected us.”
Of course they were expecting you, Captain. They shouldn’t even be on this planet, and they flew right over our city. They knew we’d come.
“Have you figured out who’s in charge yet?”
Devereaux motioned to a young private, who nervously marched his prisoner toward them. The man was not imposing by any means. Average height, slightly overweight, dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt with a battered sport coat over it all. His dark hair was slicked back and streaked with gray, and he had what looked like a week’s worth of stubble on his face. His features weren’t particularly striking, and he had a definite ‘everyman’ look about him. But something about him was familiar to Darius. He couldn’t pinpoint what or why, but he had the feeling he’d met this man before.
“Are you the leader of these people?” Darius asked.
“Y-yes, I am,” the man replied timidly.
Darius brought a finger up to his pursed lips. Hundreds of questions flooded his mind. Questions about the ship, where they got it, and who they were. Their intentions, abilities, and cargo.
“I’m sorry to ask, sir,” the man interrupted his thoughts. “But my people are tired and scared. We’ve been out here in this field at gunpoint for hours. We’re hungry, and it’s starting to rain. Can we please go back on our ship now?”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got some issues right now.” Darius watched the man’s eyes widen and his throat tighten as he gulped. “The biggest one is that you came here in something that’s not supposed to exist. Now, I don’t even know how to interpret that. So in the interest of taking things easy and deescalating what I see as an unimaginable threat, let’s start with the beginning. Does that sound fair?”
“Threat?” the man choked on the word. “Look at us, we’re no threat. We barely landed in one piece.”
“From the beginning,” Darius reaffirmed emphatically. “Are we clear?”
“C-crystal, sir.”
“Alright then. What’s your name?”
“Harcourt Young. The Third.”
Darius’s eyebrows arched and he was momentarily at a loss for words. He glanced at Devereaux, who was likewise taken by surprise.
“The billionaire venture capitalist?” Darius asked incredulously.
Young looked down at his clothes, his arms open slightly. “I know I don’t look like one, but yes. That’s me. Was me, I guess. Broke as a joke now.”
“And your people? Employees? Friends?”
“I guess you could call them my family now,” he explained. “We were all refugees on Earth. After the Laramie Incident, the Chinese stopped pushing inland. We never really found out why. But things went from bad to worse for the rest of us. No government. No army. No law. People were starving in the streets. Some folks formed new towns and started new lives, others began raping and murdering. Mostly they raped and murdered those who had just started fresh.” He trailed off, his eyes cast downward, but recovered after a moment. “They all found their way to me in one way or another. Before the world went to hell, I only knew two of them. Now we’re a community.”
Darius looked again at the refugees huddled next to their steel home. Children as young as five looked back with wide eyes. Their parents held them close, their expressions pleading their case for freedom. The images of what they must have seen sicken
ed him. Some of the children must have grown up knowing only a world of violence and fear, and that stirred the embers of rage within him.
“Captain Devereaux,” he said.
“Yes sir?”
“See to it that these people are fed and rested.” Darius held up his hand to pause the order, and turned to Young. “I trust, in the spirit of building trust, you don’t mind if we disarm your people for the night?”
Young grimaced. “I don’t like the thought of my people being defenseless.”
“Oh, they won’t be. You’re under my protection starting right now.”
Young hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“Take their weapons for the night, Captain. Post Josephson and half of the CVM here for protection.”
“Yes sir.” Devereaux saluted then spun on his heels to enact the governor’s orders.
“A fine soldier, that man,” Young grinned slightly.
Darius dismissed his comment. “I have about a thousand more questions for you.”
“I can appreciate that… Governor, was it?”
“Correct. I am Governor Darius Owens.”
“Well, Governor Owens, it would be my pleasure to answer any questions you have. But I’m very tired and hungry. I’d like to settle in just for one night. I promise you can interrogate me all you want tomorrow.”
Darius frowned. “I need answers,” he insisted.
Young sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “To what?”
“Well, first of all, how did you get a sleeper ship? Or the people to run one? And how could you even hide…”
Young cut him off, albeit politely. “That’s a longer story than I can tell you tonight. Again, I promise that I will explain it all. Tomorrow.”
Darius furrowed his brow, but kept his frustration in check. He dismissed Young, watching as he returned to his people. As they waited in line for Sergeant Josephson and her team to distribute food from the ship’s stores, Young was smiling and hugging his friends, laughing at some conversation that was beyond Darius’s ears.
Perhaps a change of scenery will give these people the respite they’ve needed for so long. They could have fought us, but didn’t. Darius sighed as he wandered off in search of his horse. Maybe I’m the one overreacting here.
Gabrielle Serrano
7 July, 6 yal, early morning
Mainland coast, far from Camp Eight
Now we really can’t go back.
Gabi’s heart sank at the sight before her eyes. Will’s jaw clenched so tightly that she could hear his teeth grind, and Kristin let out a soft gasp before covering her mouth. The only other sound was that of waves lapping against the hull of their ship. Or, at least, what was left of it.
Between the cold and the wind, Gabi had a fitful night of sleep. But at least she could claim she survived her first storm on the mainland. Waves and wind must have risen up sometime in the night, dashing the fragile boat onto the rocks over and over. The nose of one of the outriggers bobbed in the middle of the cove, barely visible over the waves. Two large chunks of the mast floated nearby, tangled in the punctured green sail. Chunks of debris and waterlogged sacks of supplies dotted the gravel shore. Beyond that, nothing remained of the makeshift vessel that had carried them so far.
“Damn it,” Will cursed. “We should have kept working. We should have dragged every last bit up to camp.”
“Should we go take a look?” Kris asked.
He shook his head. “No, there’s not going to be anything left that we can use.”
Gabi turned in disgust and headed back to camp. The Vandemarks followed close behind her. The small clearing they had made was bustling with activity. Diego was busy helping Karina and Aidan take down the makeshift shelter. Gina was feeding Daphne her breakfast, as the youngest member of the crew was the last to wake up. Caleb and Marya were busy sorting supplies into stacks, based on each person’s strength.
It didn’t take Gabi long to figure out that, despite Will’s protests to the contrary, they had already salvaged more from the ship than they could possibly carry. Not surprisingly, the two rifles and two pistols that Will had squirreled away for so long were among the supplies that he had taken the time to recover. It was then that Gabi realized that was why the older survivors were so quiet; they shared the same uneasiness in the presence of these weapons.
After the plague massacre four years earlier, most guns had been ordered destroyed. Only the chief and a few subordinates were allowed to have them. Over time, every single one of those weapons had ceased to function. Guns were thought to be extinct in the village, and bows were the tool of choice for hunting. No one knew that Will had stashed a few away inside a crashed cargo pod not too far from the village until he loaded them onto the ship just before they left. Even that act left Gabi with a question that she couldn’t hold back.
She sought him out and pulled him aside for the second, then whispered, “Do the other crews have guns?”
His eyes darted around for a second, making sure they were clear of prying ears. “Of course they do. For the same reasons we have them.”
“How did you get Daniel to take them? You know he hated…”
“I didn’t give him a choice,” he cut her off. “We can’t afford choice. Not now. Not until we join up with the other colony.”
“If there’s another colony.”
“Again, we have no choice. If we stayed home, we would have died. If there’s no other colony, we’ll probably die. But assuming the other ships made it, there should be a city. A big one, compared to Camp Eight.”
Gabi scoffed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I’m sure you will.”
They gathered their assigned supplies; Gabi double checked her arrows and tomahawk out of habit. Will looked at what was left and shook his head.
“Leave half of the shelter panels behind,” he ordered. “We need these extra water skins.”
“How can we build a tent with only half the panels?” Marya protested.
“Leave them,” he repeated as he unrolled his map.
Marya grumbled as she executed his order. Gabi felt a tiny glimmer of satisfaction with the exchange. She knew from experience that there were other ways to create shelter, and that Will was right. There was no point in rubbing it in, though. Further conflict would only serve to anger Will, who was already on edge. And now armed with a gun.
Gabi helped Diego don his tiny backpack. He complained for a moment about its weight, which earned him a grumbled rebuke from his half-sister. The others were ready, and Will finished with his study of the map.
“We’re on the wrong side of the mountains. We need to go inland. Head south or southeast.” He looked in that direction, though only the thick forest canopy could be seen. “There should be some fairly high mountains over there. Once we cross it, we should be able to find a creek and follow it.”
“A creek?” Caleb blurted. “Care to be a little more specific?”
“Don’t need to be. At least not yet. If what I’m seeing is correct, most of the streams in the area about fifty or sixty miles southeast all converge into that river that we need to find. We just need to get over the divide and follow one of them.”
“Oh, is that all?”
Will smirked. “Why, were you hoping for something a little harder?”
“Than blindly stumbling through the woods, praying we find the right stream?”
“There are dozens of correct streams. Just need to find one.”
“Seriously, Will. How is this any better than…”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Caleb. You want to march along the sea? Go ahead. You’ll be doing it alone, without the map.” Will scowled at each survivor for just a moment, then growled, “Let’s move.”
And you thought he’d give you a choice, Caleb. How stupid.
Gov Darius Owens
7 July, 6 yal, 10:34
Mercy
Darius stretched slowly and rubbed his back. He ached
from spending so much time in the saddle over the past couple of days. Sergeant Josephson took the reins of the mare and walked her off.
The atmosphere around the sleeper ship was much different than the previous night. Though half of the CVM stayed behind on guard duty, the refugees from the ship were far more active today. They wandered around outside the ship, eating and conversing with each other. Darius glanced at his watch, which reminded him of the fact that it was lunch time. Sun filtered through high clouds, creating a patchwork of shadow and light across the plain. The scene was reminiscent of the day after Gabriel landed, though more relaxed.
Maybe it’s because their leader isn’t a power hungry nutjob.
He strolled casually toward the load ramp at the front of the ship. He was met there by Harcourt Young, who smiled broadly and welcomed him onto the ship.
“Governor Owens,” he said, offering a firm handshake. “Welcome back. I’d like to thank you for the protection you have offered so far.”
It’s as much for me as it is for you.
“You’re welcome.”
Darius took keen note of the ship’s construction as he boarded. The lower level was much like Gabriel’s, and he was somewhat surprised to find that the cargo pods did indeed have access to the interior of the ship. The grand stairwell leading to the upper deck was much smaller. There were other small differences here and there. But most everything, down to the details of the deck plating and structural braces, was almost identical to the Project Columbus ships.
Young led them to the bridge, where lunch was delivered to them in the form of ration bags. Darius took the food out of courtesy, despite its unappealing nature. He took a seat at one of the two side-by-side terminals, with Young sitting at the other.
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 112
