Jerome leaped after her, but was knocked backward as the third white automacube slammed into him. Its manipulation hand snapped shut just centimeters from Jerome’s wrist. It then followed the other two and sped away.
“Cammarry!” Jerome called as he got back to his feet and tried to run after them.
“Emergency alert. Emergency alert. All personnel clear the area. Venting to extinguish fire will commence in one minute.” The recorded voice boomed out. “Emergency exits are open and illuminated. All personnel must clear the area immediately. Oxygen extraction will happen in less than one minute.”
Jerome saw Cammarry and the three speeding automacubes pass out of sight at the far end of the chamber. He ran as fast as he could, but there was no way to catch them. “Cammarry! Cammarry! Bring her back!”
“Oxygen extraction will take place in twenty seconds,” the emergency voice boomed. It then began counting down from twenty.
Jerome looked around and saw an exit sign in bright blue shining through the smoky haze and the red strobing lights. As the countdown proceeded, he changed directions and galloped as fast as he could toward that exit sign.
“Five. Four. Three.”
Jerome dove through the doorway and rolled into the darkness beyond.
“Two. One.”
The bulkhead door he had pass slammed shut.
He lay where he landed. The nine-section color control pad’s glow above him. It was the only light he had. He panted and sucked in air, and mumbled the name of the woman he loved. “Cammarry. Cammarry.”
15 aftermath
Bigelow was surprised by the rain as it fell. A smile crossed his face as the rain dripped from his hat. He urged the horses on, although the steady walking pace they made was enough for him. The hat he had protected him from the fresh water falling from above, but occasionally he took it off and looked up into the air and felt the pitter patter of the rain on his face. The horses’ backs shined with dampness. It reminded him of his childhood. Regular rains, this was the third cycle of rain in a row. Regular rains, one rain-day out of every ten days. The habitat was changing. He saw life coming back to the dry ground, and more plants were shooting up. Birds were flying overhead, even through the rain, as if the birds were just as pleased as the people to be washed, and have enough to drink. He knew his horses were happy.
Bigelow picked up the bottle of wine from beneath his seat and consider it. He took a small swig and then placed it back. Looking ahead, he saw his destination, the carousel.
“Well there is a rider on carousel number seven, even on a rainy day. How sweet!” Bigelow said to himself and the horses.
The music was playing, and the carousel was going round and round. The rider was sitting on one of the fantasy creatures. The one with its long serpentine neck, and bulging eyes. The wood carvers called that one a serpoantia, but Bigelow thought of it more as one of the things he might see in his dreams when he drank too much wine. As the troika rolled closer, Bigelow had a feeling of déjà vu.
“Jerome?” Bigelow said under his breath. He scowled a bit as he pulled the reins and halted the horses and troika. He watched carefully for Cammarry, but there was no one else riding the carousel.
“Come on Anika, we best see what has happened.”
He drove the troika up near the carousel. He waited while Jerome continued to ride around and around. After several revolutions, Bigelow climbed down. His feet splashed in mud, and he smiled at the thought of mud again, but the smile faded as he walked over to the carousel.
“I believe we meet again,” Bigelow announced. “This is where we met, so I feel some sort of precognition, prophecy, or portent is happening. What do you say?”
“Cavia porcellus.”
“Pardon me?”
“Cavia porcellus.” Jerome did not look up at all, just kept sitting there straddling the statue as made its circuit around. He rode it as it rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell.
On the next pass, Bigelow walked up and stepped onto the carousel. He easily took a stand next to Jerome, and motioned to the empty seat on the fantasy animals next to him. “I did not understand what you said.”
“Cavia porcellus. From a dead language. Khin used to talk about cavies on the needle ship, but I never saw any of those. Now I think I know what he was referring to. We are all just guinea pigs in a permalloy madhouse.” Jerome murmured the words as he looked at the floor of the carousel. “Yes, just cavia porcellus in an insane asylum.”
“So you found your friend?” Bigelow asked. He looked away as he had an idea what was coming.
Jerome fumbled with his fingers. “No. Maybe. I am not sure. Not in time. Not in time at all. Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. An ancient religious text says there is a time for everything under the sky. There is a time for silence. A time to speak. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. It even says there is a time die, and a time to be born. All about time. Just empty, wasted, time.”
“Cammarry? What of your friend Cammarry?”
He covered his face with his hands. “Coming together to the Conestoga was our beginning; keeping together was our progress; working together would have been our success. We were a team. Cammarry was essential to that, but now she is gone. Is there a time to be unsure? A time of mystery? A time of terror? A time of remorse? A time of anguish!” Jerome hung his head down. “I looked. I searched. I really did. I searched for days and days. I could not find a way back inside terraforming, and I have no idea where she was taken.”
“Terraforming?” Bigelow wiped the water from his brow. It was sweat and not rainwater. “You were in terraforming when she died?”
“Die? No, Cammarry did not die. At least, I hope not. I do not think she died, well, maybe? I do not know. She was taken away by automacubes. I could not find her. I looked and looked and looked, till I ran out of food and water. Lots of others died, but so help me, the last time I saw her, she was alive.”
“You were in terraforming when she was lost?”
“Yes. All those others died. That man died. Cammarry she thought it was Khin, I am not sure. I might have been. They all died, all those people in the vats. Some insanity called Project Angel Food. I tried to shut it all down. Nothing was marked, expect the water, and I shut down everything I could, but nothing worked.”
“Terraforming?” Bigelow held his hat in both hands, and wrung it a bit, flicking the water out and away from the carousel. “I think I understand. It was you who diverted the water back?”
Jerome ignored the question. “That man outside. Cammarry thought for sure it was Khin. She was absolutely convinced. I saw him die too, but it might….I know he died.”
“Did Cammarry shoot him?”
“Not him. No she did not shoot him. He was outside on the planet’s surface. Was it Khin? Was it? In her way she tried to save him, tried to save all the others. I think that is what she was doing, but it was all such a mess. She shot nearly everything else.” Jerome signed deeply and took a few more deep breaths then went on. “I have even read that there is a time to overcome and gather the pieces when tragedy strikes, but I doubt that.”
Bigelow rode the carousel with Jerome for several more rotations, all in silence.
“So Jerome, why are you here?”
“I did not have anywhere else to go.”
Bigelow put his hat back on. “The two children we found are safe. The horses walked all that night, slowly, but I got most of the way back to the roustabouts by dawn.”
Jerome finally looked at him. Jerome’s eyes were red from crying and his face was lined with fatigue. “That is something.”
“Did you find out about the Ferryman?” Bigelow gently prodded.
“That crazed synthetic brain said it was not just one man. The Ferryman is a group who were selling people to use as cavia porcellus for Project Angel Food.” Jerome looked down and away. “It is all my fault. Khin, Sandie, and Cammarry. They are all lo
st, all because I failed. I could not shut down that system, or get Cammarry out.”
Bigelow gently placed his hand on Jerome’s shoulder. “Your grief is real, and I understand it. Jerome, most of the tools, gear, and instruments we use in building the carousels, originated in terraforming. I was called Brigadier, and I tried to shut down Project Angel Food, about fifteen years ago.” Bigelow looked around for his wine bottle, but realized he had left it in the troika. He licked his lips wishing to wash down with alcohol the memories he was having. “I diverted the water. I tried to flood it outside to ruin the testing ground, and deprive the project of essentials. Premenit refused to shut down the mission. It froze me out of the controls, and I could not revert the water flow. I barely got out of the control room. The whole drought is my fault. I really thought it would cause Terraforming and Restoration to reevaluate Project Angel Food. Instead Premenit, Cevirmek, Athru and Forvandle just doubled down and forged the program ahead. I have tried to wreck it several times since, but never was able to get back inside.”
“Those names. How do you know the names of those synthetic brains?” Jerome muttered.
“I was one of the last humans to be on staff at terraforming. Only Monika, Siva, and Peter know my real past. Even Jenna does not know for sure who I was, but she suspects. How many people have died because of what I did?”
“You could help me. Could you can lead me back to find Cammarry?” Jerome asked with a forlorn note in his voice. “I have no food, only water, and I lost my com-link to Sandie. But why try? I am afraid it is too late.”
Bigelow looked out at the rain falling in the biome of Habitat Beta. “Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway. We all go around and around but never get anywhere, at least when riding the carousel.” He looked back to Jerome. “You restored the water, which I never thought could happen. Yes, I will help you.”
“It is just so hard to be separated on the Conestoga.”
“Yes, my friend, separation is indeed very hard, very hard indeed.”
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Thornton is blessed to live with his wonderful and patient wife. They share their trailer with two dogs, an ancient cat, and way too many books. Well John has way too many books. This book was started just prior to John having heart surgery for an arrhythmia, so if anything seems goofy or more weird than in his other books, he has an excuse.
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Alone on the Conestoga
Book 4 The Colony Ship Conestoga
John Thornton
Copyright © 2016 Automacube Enterprises LLC
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1517696535
ISBN-10: 1517696534
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my wonderful family. To my dear wife, who is not a sci-fi fan, and yet she has endured watching movies, and listening to my odd stories for decades. You are amazing! To my wonderful daughters, I am so very proud of all of you. You are brilliant and wonderful people and the men you have married are great! Thanks for being my family!
CONTENTS
This is a book of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, things, or events, might be my subconscious trying to get out. On the other hand, it might be a coincidence, or it might be some shadow whispering in your ear. “Is it really like that?”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Cover art by Jon Hrubesch
This book is part of the world my mind has created. That includes the Colony Ship Conestoga, as well as the two other series, The Colony Ship Vanguard, and The Colony Ship Eschaton. If you have not read those series, what are you waiting for?
1 once upon a dreary midnight
Doctor Chambers yawned and stretched his arms. His short and curly black hair was tight to his head, and his expressively kind, light-brown eyes looked around his office. The permalloy walls were off white with a tan cast to them. The paintings he had personally done, by hand, were on the walls, giving beautiful contrast to the drab metal. A box containing blocks and children’s toys sat in a corner. Some stuffed animal toys were seated on the empty chairs, and on the green overstuffed couch. On that couch were two especially odd stuffed animals. They were handmade. Each was composed of four different mismatched fabrics. Some of the fabrics were solid colored, and others were patterns. They were sewed together in a rough animal shape with a large smiles sewed on their face. Some clients thought those two stuffed animals were of a bear, some said a dog, and a few even suggested a rabbit. Most clients thought they were just odd. Of course, no one in Dome 17 had ever seen a living bear, dog, rabbit or other type of animal, since each and every animal on Earth had died out decades before.
Yawning again, he rubbed his neck and the wiggled his back. “How odd. I must have fallen asleep,” Doctor Chambers muttered to himself.
Wrinkle lines showed in his dark face witnessing that he was someone who smiled often. Now his face carried a puzzled expression. He rubbed his eyes. Looking over his office, he saw the rows of items on his desk were just as he recalled; some bound books, hand puzzles, writing implements, and assorted other items. The pan flute he played as a hobby, for as his own recreation and relaxation, was in its case, ensconced in the soft, red-colored, felt lining. He considering lifting it out and playing it when a buzzer sounded.
“Come in!” He called.
“May I have a moment of your time?” a woman said as she entered his office and shut the door behind her.
“Yes, I seem to have dozed for a bit, but let me check with my AI.”
“I am sorry, but your AI will not be available for now,” the woman stated. “I assure you that you have no other appointments.”
Doctor Chambers looked at her with perplexity. She just nodded and smiled. He carefully gazed at the woman as she stood there waiting. She was average height, slender and almost petite, with shoulder length, light brown hair. Her eyes were almost the exact same color as her hair and were a bit widely spaced over her small pug nose. Her wide smile turned up at the corners. He was certain he had not ever seen her before.
“Please excuse me, but your name escapes me.” He was wracking his brain, as he could not remember ever seeing this woman before.
“Do not let that surprise you. I am new here.”
“New?” Doctor Chambers laughed a bit. “Is this a prank by Willie? Has he done some kind of remote projection to make an imitation person? I do not recognize you, sorry. Your voice is not familiar either.”
“No, this is not a prank by Willie, or by Brink, although either of them could have done something like that. Willie does have the more developed sense of humor, although Brink is certainly capable of mirth. Do not be alarmed, you do not know me, yet. I am new.”
“Now you do have me stumped.” Doctor Chambers indicated a chair with a gesture of welcome. “The dome has 1500 some people living here, and there are no new people, at least not until the next set of age-mates is born. Or have I just missed seeing you for some twenty years? I am rather familiar with the younger groups, since those age-mate groups are smaller than the older people.”
“No, you have not missed seeing me.” The woman sat down on the chair at the end of his desk. Her clothing was a simple dome coverall of an off white color with a tan tint to it. Around her neck was a beaded necklace of various colors of browns and tans. It complemented her natural beauty, complexion, and coloration. Her eyes twinkled as she looked back at him, and her grin remained. “I am new and have come to seek your advice.”
“New here? Is it possible one of the adventurer teams actually found another intact dome? Are you from one of the other domes that survives? An ambassador or emissary? Did that other surviving dome send you to us? Or were you brought back here? A refugee? Did you come through decontamination?” He clasped his hands together and looked up. “Well, well, well, another living dome? That would be superb and amazing news, but why have I not heard about that? I know teams have been sent out, but as far as I know every dome invest
igated has been found broken, busted up, and ruined. Did the Committee withhold information from me? I have been doing the debriefing of many of the adventurers, but no hint of any other living dome has been heard. Were you seen by Doctor Larson?”
“Doctor Larson is incompetent for this duty, as for almost everything else. Sadly, Dome 17 was the last surviving dome. You can call me Sandie, and I am new to you. However, I am from Dome 17.” The woman took a deep breath. “I am an artificial intelligence system created by the Master Engineer Brink.”
Doctor Chambers sat back. “You certainly look like a real person.” He tapped his fingers together briefly. “So this is not a prank, nor is it a hallucination. I do not think it is a hallucination, but my recent nap was unusual as well. Maybe I should have Doctor Carolyn examine me?” He paused for a moment. “You said ‘Dome 17 was the last surviving dome’ using the past tense. Yet we are here in Dome 17 right now. Present time. I am confused.”
The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books Page 78
