Project Columbus: Omnibus

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Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 114

by J. C. Rainier


  “Well, where’s mom? Can I meet her?”

  “No,” he turned away, holding Andrea even tighter.

  “Well that’s just rude. I thought we were friends.”

  “She’s dead, Britt,” Cal snapped. “You can’t meet her because she’s dead.”

  Silence engulfed the room. Cal walked around the counter and plunked down into his chair. Brittany was aghast, her color drained. Her mouth trembled as if she were stuttering words that wouldn’t come out.

  “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You didn’t know. It’s just that…”

  “It’s too recent,” she finished his sentence. “Childbirth?”

  “Not exactly. Lexi was badly hurt in an earthquake. Falling debris, I’m told. She didn’t make it.” Cal shifted slightly, prompting Andrea to burrow into him for warmth. “It was all that Doc could do to save Andrea. I wasn’t there for it, either. I almost died that same day.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She stepped forward but Cal waved her off.

  “Thank you. Just making it happen one day at a time now.”

  “Bad luck all around, huh?”

  “It comes and goes. But you said it before, alive and holding a baby. I can’t ask for much more.”

  “Yes you can. You deserve more.”

  Cal sighed and stretched slightly. “No, I’ve seen what happens when I try to get more. No need to force it.”

  Brittany smiled softly. She couldn’t figure out what to do with her arms, so she folded them in front of her. In that moment she didn’t look like the brash girl he knew. Instead she was so much more vulnerable.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you around then?” she asked.

  Cal nodded. Brittany took her leave, glancing over her shoulder one more time as she walked through the door.

  Bad luck all around indeed, he sighed.

  Gov Darius Owens

  8 July, 6 yal, 12:51

  Temporary Government Offices, Michael

  It just doesn’t make sense, Darius thought.

  He slowly rubbed at his temples as he hunched over a portable metal table. He had been sitting this way so long that his back finally hurt more than his head, though that was the least of his concerns.

  The presence of Mercy and her survivors still had his head spinning. But the idea that Dr. Benedict had betrayed the Project and sold its secrets was something that he still couldn’t fathom. Darius could understand the sentiment behind such an action, if Young was indeed telling the truth. But it didn’t seem right that Benedict would then stay behind to destroy the plans for the Project Columbus sleepers if he had already leaked the technology. Or another ship design.

  If Young was telling the truth, he reminded himself.

  So much hinged on that little detail. But there was little evidence to either support or refute the investor’s story. There were only a couple people in the colony close enough to Dr. Benedict who might be able to shed light on the situation. Unfortunately, Deputy Governor Dayton was just as shocked and clueless as Darius. Other high-ranking crew members from the ships knew nothing, or accused Young of lying, but couldn’t debunk his tale with any solid facts. Worse, Dan Forrest, one of the original Project Columbus conspirators, put forth the notion that Dr. Benedict could have sold their secrets. Though he didn’t know one way or another, he pointed to the fact that Benedict was the leader of the original plan to steal the ships.

  Darius needed answers. He was running out of options for getting those answers. The prospect of a stream of small sleeper ships dropping onto Demeter left him very uneasy. Even forty people, if desperate and armed, could inflict serious damage on Concordia. And Young’s assurance that they couldn’t be used by an organized invasion force was not as comforting as the investor probably hoped. Any nuclear power on Earth would probably have the capability of making fleets of them. Darius estimated that fewer than a half dozen, properly organized, would be required to take over the colony.

  Roger cleared his throat. Darius looked up at him; he stood at the top of the bridge stairs, politely waiting for the governor’s attention.

  “Pardon me, Governor, but he’s here.”

  “You don’t have to…” Darius caught himself about to tell Roger not to use his title. He sighed, as the effort was always futile. “Send him in.”

  As Roger went to retrieve the visitor, Darius slid his chair closer and stretched out. His back popped a couple times, which was both painful and oddly relieving. He folded his hands on the table just as Dr. Kimura ambled onto the bridge. Darius motioned for him to sit down. Dr. Kimura complied, though over the years he had lost the spring in his step, and his posture had become slightly hunched.

  “You wanted to speak with me, Darius?” the elder man asked.

  “Yes, Doctor. I’ve got a lot to sort out here, and I wanted your help.”

  “Is this about the other ship? What did they call it, Mercy?”

  “It is.”

  The doctor nodded as he sighed. “I’m not sure how much I will be able to tell you.”

  “Maybe more than you think. Tell me, does the name Harcourt Young mean anything to you?”

  Kimura shook his head. “Should it mean something to me?”

  “Maybe. Think back, Doc. I need to know if you ever heard Doctor Benedict talk about him. Whether it was to you directly or something you overheard.”

  “David? No, he never mentioned anything.”

  Darius pursed his lips and leaned back slightly. “What about problems with equipment? Perhaps a couple years before launch?”

  “I remember him complaining about the navigation computers and data servers being too old and slow. He said they could cause problems when we approached the planet, and wanted to get them replaced.”

  “Tell me more,” Darius pressed.

  This might be the key.

  “I don’t know what to say. He complained about it for two or three years. He was having problems getting funding from Congress. But eventually he got the funding to replace them, two years before launch.”

  “Where did he get the funding?”

  Dr. Kimura hesitated in a moment of confusion. “Congress,” he insisted.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. We got appropriations directly from them.”

  “So it suddenly changed? I bet Dr. Benedict was pleased with that.”

  The scientist was lost in a moment of thought. “Now that you mention it, he kind of glossed over the details. In hindsight, it seemed a bit suspicious.”

  Could it be?

  “Was there anything else odd that happened around that time? Something that you can’t explain when you look back?”

  “There was something that I couldn’t even explain at the time, Darius. Two months before David got his new computers.” Kimura closed his eyes as he recalled. “Colonel Fox had me detained for a while because of an access breach on one of my workstations. I had no idea what she was on about. She claimed that I had downloaded specifications for the biostasis systems from the workstation to a flash drive.” His eyes snapped open, and for the first time, Darius saw Kimura seethe with frustration. “I’ve never owned a flash drive in my life, Darius. And what would I need to do with the specifications of my own invention? All of that is stored in my mind. I don’t need to consult a computer to recall it.”

  Biostasis specifications. Shit, Young might have been right.

  “So what happened?” Darius asked. “And why didn’t I know about this?”

  “I was cleared after an investigation. David swept the whole incident under the rug. He felt it would be detrimental to the Project if it was perceived that one of the lead researchers might be trying to steal from the Project.”

  Ironic, since you planned to steal everything with his help.

  “Who conducted the investigation?”

  “Lieutenant Shipp.”

  There’s the cleaning crew. Someone under Benedict’s sway. A dark thought wormed its way into the tangled thread that he was already dealing
with. Shipp was assassinated. Were these two conspiracies connected? Benedict and Shipp played a part in both.

  “Darius, I have to ask,” Kimura interrupted his thoughts. “Is there a reason for these questions? This all happened so long ago, and David is dead now.”

  Darius leveled his gaze squarely at his friend. “What if Doctor Benedict was playing more than one game? We know about the conspiracy to steal the ships. But what if he was involved in more?”

  “I would say that is not possible. David only did what he did for the preservation of mankind.”

  The preservation of mankind. Giving everyone the best chance they could.

  “Stacking the deck,” Darius blurted. Kimura’s eyebrows arched. “Stacking the deck, that’s what you told me when we left Earth. We had to stack the deck to give ourselves the best odds of survival.”

  “Yes, it’s what David said when he convinced me to help him steal the ships.”

  “What if he found a way to stack the deck even more? Give more people the chance to survive if the worst should happen?”

  “That sounds like something that he would do if he could.”

  “He just might have, Doc. I’ve been inside that ship. The stasis pods are exact replicas of ours, right down to the latches. Your sleeper pods. No modifications that I could see.” Darius rose and looked to the northeast, at the landscape beyond. “And the man who brought that ship here claims that he purchased the design from Doctor Benedict.”

  “That’s insane, Darius,” Kimura protested. “He wouldn’t have sold the design. He stayed back to destroy all project data, including the designs.”

  “Designs he saw as a threat to the security of Concordia, right?”

  “Of course they were a threat. If so much as one ship was built by…”

  “I know, Doc. But what if there was a ship design that didn’t pose a threat, at least individually, to the colony? A ship that could only carry forty people and almost no support cargo? Something that was designed to seek out and join an existing colony?”

  “We had only two ship designs. The XCS and the XCS-R. We didn’t design small ships because they wouldn’t be sustainable on their own.”

  “Exactly. On their own. But what if, Doc? What if he designed another ship?”

  “No,” Kimura growled. “Darius, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you seem to be losing your grip on reality. Perhaps it is the stress of all of the recent events. You should consider letting Deputy Governor Dayton take over for a while.”

  Darius turned around and leaned over the table, putting his weight on his arched fingertips. “Doc, we’ve been friends a long time. Have I ever lied to you?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “And I’m not about to start.”

  “But you weren’t there, Darius. All you can do is speculate.”

  Darius nodded and stood up. “You’re right, it’s speculation. But I’ve got some pretty good evidence now. Thank you, Doctor. You’re excused.”

  Dr. Kimura took his leave, exiting the bridge as slowly as he entered. Darius walked to the forward bridge railing after he left, casting his eyes into the bright blue sky.

  Young was right, then. And Doctor K had no clue. He sighed and tightened his grip on the railing. What are we in store for if someone actually manages to build these escape ships?

  Gabrielle Serrano

  11 July, 6 yal, shortly before dusk

  About 25 miles inland, southeast of wreck site

  “We should get back soon,” she whispered to Will.

  “Just a little longer,” he hissed back, his eyes squinting at something upslope.

  The mainland continent posed strange new challenges for hunting. While creatures were out and about throughout the day, the transition that occurred around sundown seemed to be the busiest. Possibly owing to the short days on Demeter, there seemed to be a significant overlap between the diurnal and nocturnal creatures. There even seemed to be at least one creature that was always active: a strange hawk that glowed in flight during the night, yet still hunted during the daytime.

  Prey of all sorts could be found in abundance. They had not lacked for fresh meat since coming ashore, though a couple times they had eaten solely from their supplies in order to make better time.

  Gabi peeked over the rock that she knelt behind, trying to catch a glimpse of what Will was stalking. There was not much she could see through the dozens of branches that obscured her view. She sighed, resigning herself to wait for just a few more minutes.

  Better kill it quick, Will.

  She rolled over and tried to get comfortable. She tried to ignore the swaying tree tops above and instead concentrated on the sky. Fir trees were still an alien concept. In darkness they looked like towering giants, ready to snatch and swallow her with a hundred gnarled arms. It would be dark soon, and her insecurities would soon grip her again. The trees couldn’t hurt her, she knew, but the vision of giants still lurked in her dreams. Her sleep was fitful, and she wasn’t the only one.

  Diego cried out in his sleep sometimes, and when he woke up he always sought comfort next to her. The first time he curled up next to her, she wanted nothing more than to shove him away. But she allowed him to share the space, and her own dreams that night were less intense. They shared some common bond, one that she never had fathomed possible. And while it served them both to take the edge off of their nightmares, Gabi hated herself for it. It felt like she was losing her grip on just what Diego did to their mother, and the pain of that betrayal gnawed at her as they marched. The crew barely conversed anymore. Hunting was the only distraction she had left.

  She glanced over at Will. His focus had changed from the distance to something nearby. He slowly unslung the rifle from his shoulder and leaned it against the trunk of a felled spruce tree. Whatever he was tracking must have been small, as he then readied his bow and straightened his back. He raised the weapon high, and Gabi caught sight of his prey an instant before his bowstring let out a muffled twang. The small bird took the arrow through its chest and wing, toppling out of the tree and landing in a bush about twenty feet away. Will wandered away, returning a minute later with his prize in one hand and the bloodied arrow in the other.

  “That should do it,” he smirked triumphantly.

  Gabi opened the mouth of the woven bag. He stuffed the bird inside, adding it to the three others that they caught earlier. She then cinched the bag and slung it over her shoulder as Will went about collecting his gear.

  They were soon on their way. Will began to prattle on about the success of their hunt, but Gabi’s attention was elsewhere. Dusk was upon them, and her anxiety started to edge in again. The forest floor was enshrouded by the shadows of towering ridges on either side. The bushes that carpeted the ground were potential hiding spots for predators. Though she hadn’t seen any yet since landing, Gabi couldn’t help but remember the jungle jaguars on Raphael Island.

  The sooner we get back to the camp and the fire…

  Her thought was interrupted by a loud boom that pierced the air. Her heart stopped for a moment. It took her second to realize what the noise was. She had heard it before, years earlier. Will had no such hesitation; by the time Gabi realized that one of the rifles had been fired, he was already twenty feet in front of her, tearing his own rifle from his back. His arms and legs seemed to work in fluid independence. He racked a round in the chamber even as he flew over the uneven ground. Gabi sprinted after him, casting aside the game bag after only a few steps. She fell even farther behind as her fingers struggled to find an arrow in her quiver.

  More shots rang out from camp. Gabi finally got hold of an arrow, which she immediately clenched in the same hand as her bow’s grip. With the distraction aside, she pumped her legs furiously. Smoke from the campfire curled in this wisps below the high branches ahead of her. Screams drowned out the sounds of her panting. Diego and Daphne’s shrill shrieks could be made out, as well as the fierce growl of a large animal. Her heart beat fur
iously in her chest, and her stomach tied in a knot. Gabi had just a couple seconds to steel herself for whatever awaited beyond the brush line. Her nerves were nearly shattered as Will’s rifle belched out two shots just before she burst through.

  The sight stopped Gabi dead in her tracks. A massive, snarling creature was reared up on its hind legs, blood and entrails dripping from its mouth. Wounds in its chest weeped, though it didn’t seem to be slowed by the damage. If anything, it was enraged. It swept its massive paw low to the ground, casting aside Gina’s shredded, lifeless body. The corpse skidded to a stop at Gabi’s feet, splashing gore on her boots. In an instant Gabi felt dizzy, and her stomach threatened to turn. Even the chaotic sounds that surrounded her seemed to fade.

  Another two shots from Will’s rifle brought her attention back to the rampaging animal. It dropped low and aimed its body directly at Will, ready to charge. Gabi quickly let loose an arrow. It found its mark in the side of the animal’s chest, but it didn’t sink in as deep as with other prey. Her eyes widened and she gasped. Her weapon was useless against the great beast. The wound didn’t even seem to register; she wouldn’t be able to distract it.

  Emitting a deep growl, the beast lunged at Will. He darted out of the way, just barely ahead of the eight-inch claws. On the far side of the camp, no longer obstructed by the animal’s solid body, Gabi could see the rest of the survivors. Caleb was bleeding from a gash in his leg. Even at a distance, Gabi could see that his skin was ghost white, and he was having trouble focusing his eyes. Karina had a grip under his shoulders, and was trying desperately to drag him to cover. Diego and Daphne’s heads were peeking up over a felled log, and they were still shrieking in terror. Aidan hopped over the same log, ducking next to the small children, while Marya scrambled to retrieve Caleb’s rifle. Kristin covered their escape, her trembling hand pointing a pistol at the creature’s haunches.

  “Shoot it, Kris!” Will bellowed, narrowly dodging another swipe from the animal. He couldn’t bring his gun to bear. It was all he could do to dance away from the wall of claws and fur that was trying to eviscerate him.

 

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