Coyote Frontier

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by Allen Steele




  C O Y O T E F R O N T I E R

  Hugo Award-winning author Allen Steele’s acclaimed, “terrific, break-out book” (Robert J. Sawyer] of interstellar exploration, Coyote, was boldly followed by Coyote Rising, “the Revolutionary War of the future” (Midwest Book Review). Now, Coyote Frontier concludes this epic trilogy—with humanity’s last chance to colonize a new Earth…

  The revolution that won Coyote’s independence from Earth’s government is twenty years in the past. Large areas of the planet remain unexplored. Coyote’s aging computers, aircraft, and medical equipment are badly in need of replacement. And the colony’s survival is in question.

  Hope arrives in the form of the European Alliance starship Columbus, delivering a starbridge—an invention that allows almost instantaneous travel between Earth and Coyote. With Earth in ruins, humankind needs a new home—and Coyote is its last, best refuge. But this technology may prove to be more of a detriment than a boon. Now the colony’s hard-won independence depends on the descendants of Coyote’s original settlers—and those who have their own agendas for its future…

  Former freedom fighter Carlos Montero, now in his fifties and burdened with the responsibilities of leadership. Manuel Castro, the savant and former lieutenant governor of New Florida, now a hermit who may hold the key to the survival of those whose company he has renounced. Jonas Whittaker, the genius inventor haunted by the loss of the wife and daughter he sacrificed to save his own life. And Morgan Goldstein, an entrepreneur seeking to exploit Coyote’s natural resources—even if it means ruining the planet itself.

  As Coyote’s future hangs in the balance, a larger question looms: Can the human race settle a new world without bringing forward the problems of the world it left behind?

  Novels by Allen M. Steele

  NEAR-SPACE SERIES

  ORBITAL DECAY

  CLARKE COUNTY, SPACE

  LUNAR DESCENT

  LABYRINTH OF NIGHT

  A KING OF INFINITE SPACE

  THE JERICHO ITERATION

  THE TRANQUILLITY ALTERNATIVE

  OCEANSPACE

  CHRONOSPACE

  COYOTE TRILOGY

  COYOTE

  COYOTE RISING

  COYOTE FRONTIER

  Collections by Allen M. Steele

  RUDE ASTRONAUTS

  ALL-AMERICAN ALIEN BOY

  SEX AND VIOLENCE IN ZERO-G: THE COMPLETE NEAR-SPACE STORIES

  AMERICAN BEAUTY

  Nonfiction by Allen M. Steele

  PRIMARY IGNITION: ESSAYS 1997-2001

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

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  Penguin Group (NZ), Cnr. Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2005 by Allen M. Steele.

  Text design by Kristin del Rosario.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  ACE is an imprint of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  ACE and the “A” design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First edition: December 2005

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Steele, Allen M.

  Coyote frontier : Allen Steele.— 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 0-441-01331-7

  1. Space colonies—Fiction. I. Title

  PS3569.T338425C6925 2005

  813'.54—dc22

  2005050812

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For

  Ron Miller—

  the man who painted Coyote

  Dramatis Personae

  Prologue

  Book Five: Amid the Alien Corn

  PART ONE: Bridge of Stars

  PART TWO: The Wayfaring Stranger

  PART THREE: The Black Mountains

  PART FOUR: A Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems

  Book Six: Coyote’s Stepchildren

  PART FIVE: Emissary to Earth

  PART SIX: Quartet for Four Seasons

  1. Winter Horses

  Spring Encounters

  Summer Fires

  Autumn Leaves

  PART SEVEN: Parson’s Rebellion

  PART EIGHT: Will the Circle Be Unbroken?

  Epilogue

  Coyote Calendar

  Acknowledgments

  Sources

  Coyote Colonists

  MONTERO FAMILY

  Carlos Montero—president, Coyote Federation

  Wendy Gunther—Carlos’s wife; former Colonial Council member

  Susan Montero—daughter; naturalist, Colonial University

  Kuniko Okada—Wendy’s adoptive mother; former chief physician, URSS Alabama

  THOMPSON FAMILY

  Lars Thompson—logging camp foreman

  Marie Montero—Lars’s wife; Carlos Montero’s sister

  Hawk Thompson—son

  Rain Thompson—daughter

  Garth Thompson—Lars’s brother; mayor of Clarksburg

  Molly Thompson—Lars’s and Garth’s aunt; owner, Thompson Wood Company

  DREYFUS FAMILY

  Barry Dreyfus—captain, Orion II; Alabama colonist

  Will Gentry—first officer, Orion II; Barry’s partner

  Jack Dreyfus—Barry’s father; former Alabama engineer

  LEVIN FAMILY

  Cecelia “Sissy” Levin—musician

  Ben Harlan—Sissy’s second husband

  Chris Levin—Chief Proctor, Liberty, Cecelia’s son

  CAYLE FAMILY

  Bernie Cayle—farmer

  Vonda Cayle—professor of History, Colonial University

  Dana Monroe—bar owner; former Alabama chief engineer

  Jud Tinsley—crew member, Orion II; former Alabama executive officer Paul Dwyer—wagon driver, former Alabama crewman

  Henry Johnson—astrophysicist

  Manuel Castro—savant; former lieutenant governor, New Florida colony

  Tomas Conseco—Carlos Montero’s chief of staff

  “Hurricane Dave” Peck—bartender

  George Waite—tugboat captain

  T
illie Van Owen—logging camp cook

  EASS Columbus—Crew

  Anastasia Tereshkova—commanding officer

  Gabriel Pacino—first officer

  Jonathan Parson—second officer

  On Earth

  Jonas Whittaker—physicist, Federal Space Agency

  Roland Shaw—director of Internal Security, United Republic of America

  Maggie Kendrick—physician, Federal Space Agency

  Angelo Margulis—chief administrator, Highgate

  Dieter Vogel—senior consul, European Alliance, Highgate

  Farouk Sadat—secretary-general, United Nations

  Marcos Amado—U.N. ambassador, Western Hemisphere Union

  Sir Ian Rutledge—U.N. ambassador, European Alliance

  Morgan Goldstein—entrepreneur

  Mike Kennedy—bodyguard

  Joseph Walking Star Cassidy—equerry

  PROLOGUE

  LIBERTY, NEW FLORIDA—MURIEL 91, C.Y. 17

  The next-to-last day of Muriel came as the mellow aftermath of a long rainy season, the morning warm and dry, with a clear blue sky vacant of clouds. Tomorrow was the summer solstice; the students would get the day off to prepare for their finals, but by the end of the week they’d be returning to the farms and ranches from which they’d come, and then Colonial University would close its doors for the month of Verchiel. So today was a day for reflection, for taking stock of the world, and, just perhaps, wondering what lay ahead.

  As was her custom, Vonda Cayle decided to hold her final class outside. It would have been a waste of a fine morning to keep her students cooped up; the classrooms were well insulated, of course, and each one had its own woodstove, but they’d never been equipped with fans, and as spring had faded into summer the rooms had gradually become stifling even with the windows thrown open. For this last session she wouldn’t need blackboards or maps, though, so Vonda moved the class out to the quadrangle, where they took seats upon the lawn surrounding the small pond that lay in the middle of the campus, while she claimed the bench beneath the shade of a faux birch.

  Giving her students a few moments to settle down, she gazed upon them with a certain fondness that she’d never expected to find at the beginning of the trimester. This year’s World History class had been a little larger than usual: fourteen pupils, their LeMarean ages ranging from six to eight, with the youngest little more than teenagers and the oldest in early adulthood. The sons and daughters of immigrants, none had been born on Earth, and all were young enough to be her own children. They’d come here from towns as close as Shuttlefield and colonies as distant as New Brighton, their tuition either paid for by their families or, as in the case of a few of the older students, work-study scholarships that enabled them to live in the dorms while doing all the small but necessary jobs that kept the university running on a day-to-day basis. The first time she’d met them, they were all strangers; now she regarded them as friends, even if some of them didn’t think of her the same way.

  Very well, she thought. We’ve spent the last four months together. Now let’s see how much they’ve learned.

  “All right, now…” Leaning her cane against the bench, Vonda gently clapped her hands, bringing an end to murmured conversation. “If everyone is ready…”

  Her lecture book was spread open in her lap, a soft breeze pulling at its handwritten pages. She gazed down at it for a moment, as if preparing to deliver another lecture, then she slowly and deliberately closed it.

  “And they all lived happily ever after,” she said. “The end.”

  For a few seconds, they stared at her in bewilderment. Pens paused above blank pages of notebooks, ready to jot down everything she said, only to find that she was saying nothing. A few tittered laughs, politely muffled behind hands. An insolent cough from somewhere to the left; she didn’t have to look to know where it came from. She waited, her hands folded together in her lap, pretending to study the grasshoarder that had just touched down on the ground beside her.

  “Pardon me, Professor Cayle, but—”

  “Yes, Aaron?” She didn’t look away from the tiny bird as it pulled at a blade of swampgrass. “Is there something you’d like to add?”

  Aaron hesitated. One of her older students, he’d always been shy about making his opinions known, until she’d carefully coaxed him out of his habitual timidity. “Well, I mean…surely there must be more. After all, yesterday we only got up to”—he flipped back a page of his notebook—“Hamaliel ’13, when the Columbus arrived.”

  “That’s correct, yes. But this material has been covered by Contemporary Politics and Trade, hasn’t it? And since I don’t want to be redundant with everything Professor LeBeau has been trying to teach you, I’d just as soon leave it alone.” An offhand shrug. “We all lived happily ever after, and that’s that. The end. Anyone care to argue with that?”

  “Nope. I’m satisfied.” Raven slapped her notebook shut, started to stand up. “Thanks, Professor, this has been a—”

  “Did I say class was dismissed?” Vonda looked the black-haired young woman straight in the eye. She froze, then slowly sat down again, not looking away until she lost the staring match with her teacher. “Like I was saying,” Vonda continued, “we all lived happily ever. But then again”—and now she favored them with a coy smile—“I could be wrong.”

  Some knowing chuckles from the brighter students, the ones who’d become accustomed to her deliberately provoking arguments. Vonda tossed aside her notebook, disturbing the grasshoarder and causing it to take flight. “I’ve spent all last spring telling you how and why we came here. Day after tomorrow, you get your finals. The ones who are good at memorizing facts and figures are going to do well. The ones who’ve written good papers will get passing grades, too. And some of you”—she refrained from looking at Raven—“are going to muddle by, and with any luck I won’t have to see you here again next fall.”

  Outright laughter this time, although not from Raven, who was red-faced and seething. “But right now,” Vonda went on, “I’m not interested in rote-memorization or writing talent. I want to know what you’ve actually learned, not just what you’re able to parrot back to me. So today…”

  She paused. “No notebooks. Put ’em away, right now. If I see anyone peeking at them, they get a failing grade for the day.”

  Near the back of the group, another young woman raised her hand. “I don’t understand, Professor,” Zephyr said. “I mean, what are we supposed to talk about?”

  “Good question.” Vonda nodded. “Perhaps we can start with you, then. Tell me, why did I come here?”

  Zephyr blinked in surprise. “You? Well…to teach this class, I guess.”

  “No, no.” Vonda shook her head impatiently. “Tell me why I came to Coyote in the first place.”

  Zephyr hesitated. “Umm…you were aboard the Alabama, the first ship…the one that left Earth in 2070, I mean. And you told us that you’d been one of the intellectual dissidents—”

  “Dissident intellectuals,” Vonda corrected. “Or D.I.s, for short. Go on.”

  “The D.I.s were a group of radicals that the government persecuted because of their beliefs, so they hijacked the Alabama and—”

  “Wrong.” Vonda looked around. “Anyone want to take a stab at it?”

  “The D.I.s weren’t radicals,” Aaron said. “It was the Liberty Party who were the radicals, not the D.I.s. Once they took control of the government, they renamed the country the United Republic of America, rewrote the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, instituted martial law, abolished all other political parties, suspended free elections, established reeducation camps—”

  “All those things, yes. And Zephyr’s correct when she says that the D.I.s were persecuted because of this.” Vonda smiled; she had little doubt that Aaron would ace his final exam. “But she got something else wrong. Anyone else?”

  “The D.I.s didn’t hijack the Alabama.” This from Carter, idly plucking at the grass between his legs. “Tha
t was done by Captain Robert E. Lee, along with members of his crew. The D.I.s were just passengers they managed to smuggle aboard at the last minute, so they didn’t have anything to do with…”

  “Uh-uh.” Erik shook his head. “A lot of D.I.s were part of the conspiracy. If it hadn’t been for the ones who’d worked for the Federal Space Agency, Lee wouldn’t have gotten away with it.”

  “Absolutely correct.” Vonda shifted a little on her bench. “Although it was Captain Lee’s plan, he had considerable assistance from many of the D.I.s…my own late husband, among them.” She frowned, and added, “This is something a few of you are going to have to study a little more closely. I guarantee, you’ll get a question about this on the exam.” A few students, Raven among them, started to reach for their notebooks; one sharp look from their teacher, though, and they left them alone. “Let’s move along. The Alabama managed to escape from Earth, and after…oh, I must be going senile, I forget how long—”

  “Two hundred thirty years…or two hundred and twenty-six years, shiptime.” This from Snow, the most literal-minded member of the class. “Give or take a few months, of course, due to the time-dilation factor of twenty-percent light-speed, along with—”

  “Relative time will do, thank you,” Vonda said, to the accompaniment of scattered chuckles; Snow was well liked among his classmates, but he was also something of a hairsplitter. “So the Alabama arrived in the 47 Ursae Majoris system on August 26, 2300, and reached Coyote on September 7, 2300.”

  “First Landing Day,” Raven chirped. “Uriel 47, C.Y. 1.”

  Vonda tried not to show her disgust. That particular date was taught to every child almost as soon as they learned how to read; next to Liberation Day, it was most significant holiday of the year. Only the boys who weren’t infatuated by Raven’s charms didn’t smirk at her attempt to curry favor; everyone else glanced at each other and rolled their eyes.

  “Yes, that’s correct,” Vonda said. “And so we lived happily ever after…right?” Even Raven’s latest boyfriend cracked up at this, and received a glare from her in return. “No, I think not,” Vonda continued. “We had quite a few problems, starting with the fact that we had to learn how to live off the land, while at the same time contending with a number of natural predators…boids, for instance. The first year here was quite harsh, but somehow we managed to make it through the winter, and by the beginning of Gabriel, ’03, Liberty had become a self-sufficient colony. But then…”

 

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