by J. J. Green
Before Ethan had a chance to reply, she jumped down out of the cab and set off along the shoreline.
His brow knitted in confusion, Ethan slid over to the driver’s seat and took the manual out of his back pocket to study it again. The engine was humming, and he only just heard another sound over it—something like a gasp and thud. He checked over his shoulder to locate the source.
A mass of thin, writhing threads from the lake had Cherry by her ankles. She was on her stomach being dragged into the water. She was terrified and her mouth gaped in a soundless scream.
Ethan leapt from the plow and was at her side in moments. He grabbed her arms and pulled as hard as he could. Cherry finally managed to scream, and the shriek she gave cut through Ethan’s mind. He was immediately back to the First Night Attack hearing the almost inhuman howls of settlers being digested alive.
No matter how hard he pulled, he couldn’t break the threads’ hold on Cherry. They were winning the dreadful tug of war. Cherry was slowly inching backward to the water’s edge. The prehensile threads were also squirming up her body toward Ethan, seeming to seek out the source of the resistance.
Desperately, he cast about for something to cut the threads, but all around him was nothing but vegetation, sand, and water. All he had with him were the clothes he was wearing. The moment he let go of Cherry, the threads would drag her into the water. Then there would be nothing he could do to save her.
“Please,” Cherry gasped. “Please help me. Please.”
“I’m trying. I can’t pull any harder.” As he spoke, Ethan’s hands slipped on her arms, and Cherry jerked closer to the lake. She gave another shriek. Ethan quickly grabbed her again and tugged with every ounce of strength he had, but he could only maintain a stalemate against the threads.
There was no one for kilometers around and even if he managed to comm someone, the struggle would be long over before help arrived.
“I’m going to have to let you go, just for a moment,” Ethan said through a clenched jaw.
“Noooo,” Cherry howled. “Don’t let go.”
“I have to. I have to run back to the plow. Try to hold on to the sand as hard as you can. Fight with everything you’ve got. Don’t let them drag you into the water.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Cherry. Do you understand? Don’t let them drag you into the water.”
Her face was drained of color but she managed a brave nod.
“Good. Three. Two. One.” He released his grip and flew back to the plow. As he swung the machine around, he push down a lever that looked like it might lower the blades. His heart surged as the long, sharp slices of metal moved downward. But then his heart fell as the turning machine brought him in sight of Cherry.
She was scrabbling and clutching the ground like a wild thing, but she seemed to be having no impact on the inexorable tugging of the threads. She was nearly at the water’s edge.
Ethan pushed the accelerator forward and the plow surged ahead. He would need to drive it into the lake to avoid cutting Cherry with the blades.
The plow entered the lapping waves. Ethan hoped the water wouldn’t drown the engine. He drove toward Cherry. He had to turn even deeper into the water or he would hit her. Her feet were submerged and only the threads that were wrapped around her legs remained visible.
The threads jerked and pulled her deeper. The plow blades churned the water close enough to Cherry to freeze his heart. He passed just beyond where he guessed her feet were, and the water filled with clouds of black sand and hundreds of pieces of thread, still wriggling as they bobbed to the surface.
He was past Cherry. He looked back. She was in the same spot. He turned the plow, watching her all the while. She pulled up a leg so that she was on one knee. Then she was up and running.
He steered the plow toward her. After running for half a minute into the vegetation, she seemed to calm down. She stopped, looked around and found him, then sped over.
She climbed quickly into the cab, covered in wet sand, grazed, and still looking terrified. She grabbed Ethan and sobbed into his chest. He comforted her until her weeping finally slowed.
Wiping sand from her face and body, she said, “What the hell were those things? They were going to drown me. If you hadn’t saved me, I’d be dead.”
“I don’t know. When I think of the times I’ve walked along that shore by myself… ” Ethan shuddered. “We should head back to town and tell someone what’s happened.”
“Yeah. Let’s go. We can use the flitter.”
Ethan pushed the accelerator and turned the plow toward the place where Cherry had left the vehicle. “Only… ” he added.
“What’s wrong?” Cherry asked.
Ethan peered back at the lake, then around at the low vegetation.
“Only what?” asked Cherry.
“Those threads, or tentacles, or whatever they were, there were so many of them, and they were capable of moving an adult human.”
“You don’t need to tell me that.”
“It was the first time the creature or creatures attacked one of us. But they didn’t evolve to eat people, if that’s what it had in mind.”
Cherry said, “I think I know where you’re going. You mean whatever it usually eats is human-sized or bigger. I think I’m going to be sick.”
She wasn’t speaking figuratively. She leaned out of the cab and vomited. When the spasm was over she leaned back, looking exhausted, in her seat.
Ethan said, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“It’s okay. I was going to do that anyway. Have you ever seen any large creatures out here? I haven’t.”
“No, but the plants are knee height. It wouldn’t be hard for a large animal to conceal itself. All it would have to do is stay still and it would be impossible for us to detect. We could have walked right by something and never known it.”
“I think I’m going to be sick again.”
“The electric fences we set up aren’t enough. We need the xenozoologists to go over the area again with a fine-toothed comb. I don’t trust their report that the place is safe for farming. Not after today. When we get back, I’ll comm the ship.”
“You mean you have to ask the Woken for help?” Cherry asked. “Why? Why can’t we handle this ourselves? Why do we always have to go running to them at the first sign of trouble?”
“It isn’t like that.”
“It’s exactly like that.”
They drove the rest of the way back in silence.
Chapter Seven
An announcement was to be made in the stadium. Cariad’s gaze roved the gathering crowd as she waited. A gaping hole in the seating remained from the bomb explosion. All loose material had been stripped away by the Guardians for investigation, and the structure temporarily braced for safety. To Cariad, it was a stark reminder of the terrible event, and the sight of it made her newly fixed arm ache in psychosomatic sympathy.
The mood was in somber contrast to that at the Naming Ceremony. Most of the noise came from people maneuvering between the seats. No one was saying much, and what was said was conveyed in low voices, as if in fear of being overheard. Guardians had scanned the stadium thoroughly for any explosive devices and found nothing, but the tension and unease in the atmosphere was almost palpable.
Cariad noticed another marked contrast: at the Naming Ceremony, Gens and Woken, and even Guardians, had intermingled and seated themselves randomly, but now the groups were mostly sitting apart. She could identify the Gens and Woken even at a distance due to their clothing styles. Both groups clothed themselves from the ship’s printing facilities, but the Woken sported the fashions of Earth at the time they’d left—Cariad wore the same exaggerated swirls and folds in muted shades herself—the Gens, however, favored tighter, more body-defining shapes and bolder colors.
A patch of dark gray in a corner of the stadium represented the Guardians. They made up the smallest group, only ten or twelve of them. Cariad knew Strongquist and a few others by name. Th
e faces of the rest seemed to constantly change, as if they were serving shifts planetside or aboard Nova Fortuna, which, she reflected, was probably the case.
She’d sat among Gens, but no one was speaking to her. Looking around, she noticed that people were avoiding her gaze. The Gens’ attitude toward her seemed to have changed within the last few days. Even those who hadn’t been planetside during the First Night Attack knew who she was, and previously everyone had been friendly. Now she was beginning to feel like a pariah.
Something was happening within the colony. Groups were defining themselves into factions. Cariad was strongly reminded of her conversation with Ethan about the Gens’ feelings about the Woken, and Anahi’s attitude that the settlers were divided into the Gens and us. The divisions didn’t bode well for the future but Cariad didn’t know what to do about them.
“Hey.”
It was Ethan. He sat next to her, and Cariad’s spirits rose immediately. She had one friend at least. He must have sought her out among the crowd.
“Hi,” she replied. “How are things down at the farm?”
“You didn’t hear what happened?”
“No, I haven’t heard much news. I’ve been busy.”
He related a story about a farmer being attacked by an organism living in the lake.
“That must have been terrifying. Was she okay?”
“She didn’t suffer any permanent damage that I know of. Do you know what this announcement is about?”
“I’ve no idea. I just received the message, the same as everyone else.”
The stadium sound system gave out low rumbles, indicating someone was about to speak. The background noise dropped to silence, and all gazes turned to the newly constructed speaker’s box. A prominent Gen called Garwin was standing there facing the crowd. Strongquist was in the box with him and another Guardian. A woman, she sat at the back and Strongquist was standing behind Garwin. Anahi also appeared in the box.
“Gens, Woken, Guardians,” Garwin began, “thank you all for coming here today. This meeting is long overdue. We’ve never gone so long without a Leader.”
The general mood seemed to soften a little. Garwin was well-known and well-respected among the Gens. An older man, he had stood for election to be the Leader several times but had never won, probably due to his reputation for philandering. While not particularly frowned upon in Gen culture, Cariad had guessed it gave the impression that he was unreliable.
He was a good speaker, however, and the Gens were prepared to listen to him.
“I’m pleased to tell you the election process will begin soon,” Garwin continued. “I’m not going to be standing again. Don’t worry, I don’t need it spelled out to me. You don’t want me, and that’s fine.” He spoke wryly and without rancor. Some Gens began chanting Garwin for Leader, but the chant quickly faded when no one joined in.
He raised a hand. “My chance has come and gone, my friends. As I said, the election process begins soon. We have important things to talk about before that happens.” He paused, as if to gather his thoughts. “It’s been thirty days since we arrived at our new home, and what a tumultuous time it’s been. Counting the Gens and Woken who died in the First Night Attack and the stadium bombing, fifty-five people have been lost to us, and more have suffered serious injuries. The other day, we also nearly lost two more in a wildlife attack out by the lake.”
He looked down and shook his head before raising it to speak again. “Friends, we aren’t well prepared for the dangers of our new lives. Whoever we elect as Leader has a tough job ahead of him or her, the toughest leadership job ever in the history of Nova Fortuna. But electing a new Leader isn’t enough. If we’re to succeed and make this colony viable, we need to improve our game.
“All our lives, we Gens have followed the guidelines laid down for us in the Manual, but we weren’t ready for what we found here. How could we be?” He spread his hands wide. “We only knew how to live aboard a starship. We’d never known danger, so how could we protect ourselves against it?
“Sure, we learned basic ideas about survival, but learning is one thing, practice is another. We’ve been doing our best, but it isn’t enough. We need more guidance. We need people with experience of a real world to lead us.”
Cariad had assumed that Garwin was going to try to dispel the unrest and calm people’s fears, but the man’s last few sentences brought her to a sharp focus. His words had begun to sound worryingly familiar. They were very similar to a certain person’s opinions she’d heard only a short time ago. She was surprised to hear them coming from the mouth of a Gen.
She glanced around. The people nearest her were frowning.
“It’s time for a change,” Garwin said. “There’s an old Earth saying I’ve heard: desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s time that we rethink what we’ve been doing and invent a new way forward, a way that will save lives and bring us the success we need and deserve. I’d like you to listen to someone who has thought up a plan for that new way. It’s a plan that promises to solve these problems we’ve been having and ensure a thriving, healthy colony for all.”
The previous warmth that Garwin’s appearance had generated entirely drained away. Puzzled or concerned looks were turning angry.
Anahi stood.
Cariad suddenly became very conscious of the fact that she was a Woken sitting among hundreds of Gens.
“Thank you, Garwin,” Anahi began. “Thank you for your wonderful introduction to my proposal.” She turned to the crowd. “My name is Anahi, and I am what you call a Woken. I was revived two years ago along with roughly half of the rest of the cryonically preserved. I wanted to speak to you today to give you my perspective on what’s been happening. To say things have not gone according to plan would be a gross understatement. People have died. People have been injured. As some of you are no doubt aware, we are already behind schedule according to the Manual.
“I’m sure a few may be pointing the finger of blame at the Natural Movement, whose terrorists and saboteurs we’ve unfortunately brought along with us. And you would be entitled to do that. It was they who precipitated the First Night Attack, and it was a Natural Movement terrorist who planted the bomb in this very stadium. But the Natural Movement are not the only ones at fault here.
“We, the Woken, must also take some of the responsibility for the problems that have occurred. It was we who unknowingly allowed Natural Movement members to infiltrate our ranks. It was we who were foolishly lax in putting security in place that might have prevented their terrorist acts. It was we who failed to anticipate the problems our new colony would encounter with native species.
“My friends, I’m here today because I want to tell you we wish to make amends. Though Earth’s best scientists did their utmost to create a viable plan for humanity’s first deep space colony, we could not conceive of how that plan would play out in reality. Here, in our new home, we are finding that the information brought to us by probes was inaccurate. This planet harbors far more dangers than we realized.
“But all is not lost. The Guardians are helping us root out the Natural Movement members, and we Woken can fix other problems. We can start anew, armed with fresh knowledge, gleaned from on-the-ground experience. We want to help, not only for our own sakes, but for yours. Nova Fortuna was built for you. This planet is yours.” Anahi held up a finger. “But.
“You need a new plan. A new Manual, written to see you through these fledgling days, based on everything we now know, and everything that our current experiments discover. We Woken need to be more proactive. Simply put, we need more control of the colony. I would like to propose that, while this emergency situation continues, Generational Colonists take a step back. When we have assessed what needs to be done, we will tell you. We will guide you as we did during your time aboard Nova Fortuna, as we guided your ancestors for generations.
“In order to do this, the next Leader should be a Woken.”
That did it. Angry murmurings had be
en growing around Cariad as Anahi spoke. At her last sentence, the murmuring broke out into yells and shouts. Expletives were hurled at Anahi. “Friends, friends,” she called. “Listen to me. Listen to what I have to say. This would be a temporary measure only, until… ”
The noise from the crowd was so loud it drowned her words. Anahi gave up and returned to her seat. Strongquist stepped forward. Simultaneously, Guardians appeared from the tunnels that led to the stadium field. Armed Guardians.
Cariad clutched her seat. No Guardians had carried weapons since the First Night Attack, when they had fired at the predators that had invaded the camp. Their firearms were slim, sleek weapons, clearly far in advance of the weapons brought aboard Nova Fortuna. She could hardly believe they were being used to control the Gens.
For it was the stands filled with Gens that the Guardians went toward. They let the Woken stand alone. A shocked hush settled on the crowd.
Strongquist began to speak. “Please, do not be alarmed. The armed guards are for your own safety. I understand that you are upset at Anahi’s proposal. I anticipated that it might not be well received, and I’m sorry to say that I was correct.
“I want to make it clear that we do not want anyone here today to be hurt. We want to protect you. That, after all, was our role during the First Night Attack, and that has been our aim since then. You have called us your Guardians, and we will not shirk that task. So, please, do not be alarmed. When emotions run high, crowds can get out of control and then people get hurt. Remain calmly in your seats, and no one will be in any danger.
“We will give more information about the election for the new Leader at a later date. Meanwhile, I would like to answer the many inquiries we have received about the state of things on Earth. Gens and Woken alike are naturally very curious about their old home. I wanted to take this opportunity to satisfy that curiosity. In order to do that, I have brought Faina here to speak to you. She is our captain. She can outline the pertinent facts for you.”
