The Concordia Deception

by J. J. Green

  “No, they don’t, and it is a punishment if it’s unneeded and unasked for. Wait up a minute.” She grabbed Anahi’s shoulder, forcing her to stop and turn around.

  Though her eyes were covered by her vision aid, the woman’s anger was evident from her thin, set lips.

  Cariad asked, “Are you sure that “helping” the Gens is what this is all about?”

  “Yes, I am. Helping them, and helping us. It’s the only sensible thing to do in the circumstances. Are you aware they have already begun using the flitters whenever they want? And some are leaving their designated professions? Choosing to do whatever they fancy instead? We don’t have that kind of wiggle room. Maybe in two or three generations we might, but not now. We can do this, but only if people stick to the plan.”

  “Bullshit,” spat Cariad. “No one was going so far off the guidelines to make a difference. I know what this is about. It’s all about you, Anahi, isn’t it? You want to be the one in control, don’t you? You didn’t like the idea of Gens being in charge. It scares you. Or did the decades in cryo give you some kind of god complex?”

  “You’re talking nonsense.” Anahi marched toward the glasshouses.

  Cariad watched her go, her guess about Anahi’s motivations gnawing at her. Was she right? If she was, the scientist posed an even greater danger than Cariad had thought.

  As she decided to leave and consider her next move, she saw Anahi stop. She was answering a comm. The message seemed to agitate the scientist. She began to run, and as she went, her carefully gathered plant stalks spilled out of her basket. Anahi didn’t pay any attention. She reached a hut and went inside.

  Curious, Cariad jogged after her. When she peered in at the door, Anahi was at an interface speaking to a Guardian. The background showed that he was at the settlement. Cariad ducked outside again. Anahi was facing away, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see her. Cariad leaned against the wall and listened to the conversation.

  “The Gen farmers are refusing to give over their weapons,” the Guardian was saying. “We have them confined in one place—an equipment storage building. Apparently, they were going to stash all the weapons there. They noticed our presence, unfortunately, and locked themselves inside. They’re refusing to come out or surrender their arms.”

  “You have to get those guns off them,” Anahi said. “We can’t allow them to have any firepower. The Guardians must be able to control any potential unrest.”

  “We know, but as one of them pointed out, we actually don’t have any jurisdiction in the colony. By trying to force them to surrender their arms without the proper authority, we’re breaking colony laws. Under colony law, only the Leader has the authority to order the use of force. Currently, there is no Leader.”

  This seemed to stump Anahi for a moment because Cariad heard no immediate reply, then the Woken said, “Well, that’s simple then, isn’t it? I declare myself Leader. I authorize the Guardians to use all necessary force to seize the weapon of any Gen.”

  The Guardian hesitated.

  “What?” Anahi challenged. “What’s wrong? Do as I say.”

  “I’m not sure…”

  “Look, we revised the Manual to allow a Woken to become Leader, right? But we didn’t define how the Woken Leader would be chosen. Nowhere does it say that the Woken Leader has to be elected. Until that part is decided and ratified, anyone can declare themselves Leader. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  When the Guardian still gave no reply, Anahi said, “I’m ordering you to force entry to the place where the Gens are confined and seize their weapons. Do you understand?”

  After another moment’s silence, the Guardian’s reply came. “Yes, Leader.”

  Cariad was frozen in shock.

  The Guardian asked, “I’m assuming we set our weapons to stun?”

  After a moment’s pause, Anahi replied, “As I said, use whatever force is necessary to seize the Gens’ weapons.”

  Cariad couldn’t let this insanity continue any longer. She ran into the room. Anahi turned to face her. Behind the scientist, the interface screen was blank. The Guardian she’d been speaking to had left to carry out Anahi’s orders.

  “Call him back,” Cariad yelled. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

  “Nonsense. The Generational Colonists will give themselves up. They’re just testing their boundaries.”

  “You’re insane. You really are. You ordered the Guardians to take the Gens’ weapons? But they need them. They’re facing deadly life forms down there. They have to be able to defend themselves.”

  “We cannot allow them to have weapons that could be used against us.”

  Cariad stepped so close to Anahi, their noses were almost touching. She glared into the black light-sensitive screen of the woman’s vision aid. “Call the Guardian back.”

  “No.”

  “I warn you, this won’t stop here. I won’t rest until you’re made to answer for your actions. If anyone’s hurt down there, you’ll pay for it.”

  Anahi laughed. “I think you over-estimate the support you’ll have. The Woken are on my side in this. They’re just as tired of the Gens’ stupidity as I am. Do what you like. You’ll be fighting a lonely battle.”

  Cariad had no time to argue with the unbalanced woman. She had to do something to stop the carnage threatening to occur at the settlement. She ran out of the hut and sprinted to the nearest transit car station. She would go planetside. It seemed the only option.

  As she was sitting in the transit car to the shuttle bay, wishing that the vehicle would go faster, her comm chirped. It was Strongquist. Guessing that he wanted to talk to her about Frederick Aparicio, she pressed the ‘busy’ button. Immediately, the comm chirped again. She answered. “I can’t speak to you now.” No point in appealing to him about the situation at the settlement. The Guardians were clearly on Anahi’s side.

  “Are you going to board a shuttle?” Strongquist asked.

  Wondering how he knew, she replied, “Yes, I am. Why?”

  “I believe you may be aware of the developing standoff between Guardians and Gen farmers at the settlement?”

  “Yes,” Cariad said angrily. “Your people are about to cause a disaster.”

  “I was hoping you had received news. It is regrettable. Unfortunately, our protocols state that we obey colony law or, failing that, the orders of the colony Leader.”

  “Unfortunately you’re a bunch of fools. You’re following the orders of a madwoman. I think the cryo’s turned her crazy. She’s megalomaniacal.”

  “So you’re going down to the planet to intervene?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “That’s good.”

  “What?! If you think it’s a good idea to intervene, why don’t you do it yourself? Why don’t you call off your buddies?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t. We have to follow protocol.”

  “Even if someone might get killed?”

  Strongquist seemed to struggle for an answer. “We respect the Leader’s judgment. Any threat to human life is acceptable if it’s for the greater good of the colony.”

  The transit car was pulling into the shuttle bay station. “So what you’re telling me is, I’m on my own in this?”

  “As I said, we will follow the Leader’s orders.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Cariad closed the connection and ran for the shuttle. It was just about to leave. When she went into the passenger cabin, it was empty. The shuttle was the last of the day. It would pick up Woken who had been working planetside and bring them back to the ship.

  On her way down, Cariad tried to figure out a way of removing Anahi from the Leader’s position. Persuading the other Woken was going to be a struggle. They were sympathetic to Anahi’s cause. Ever since being revived, most of them had been distant from the Gens. Cariad realized that she’d been remiss in doing nothing about the growing divide.

  She silently cursed Strongquist and the rest of the Guardians. She could hardly credit that they would all
ow themselves to be turned into the colony’s bully boys. Anahi had availed herself of extremely dangerous, powerful allies, and Cariad didn’t know what she could do about it.

  We must follow the Leader’s orders. If Anahi ordered them all to walk out of an airlock, would they do it? Her thoughts turned to the Gen farmers who were refusing to give up their rifles. Was Ethan among them? Her stomach clenched at the thought.

  By the time the shuttle touched down, Cariad was no closer to figuring out how she was going to defuse the crisis. She sped past the waiting line of scientists and out of the shuttle bay. She’d recognized the farmers’ equipment shed behind the Guardian while he was talking to Anahi. It was on the edge of the settlement.

  The streets were quiet. Darkness had fallen and the solar-powered lamps had come on. A dull thump echoed in the distance. It came from the direction where she was heading, and sounded like something heavy striking a hollow place—like a battering ram striking a door. She sped up. She was only a couple of streets away.

  Another thud.

  How could she make the Guardians stop? We must follow the Leader’s orders.

  She couldn’t comm Anahi and demand that she call them off. The self-appointed Leader would never agree.

  As she rounded a corner, Cariad almost stopped in her tracks. The self-appointed Leader. Anahi had declared herself Leader, saying that there were no laws in place governing a Woken Leader’s appointment. So unless Anahi had put laws in place in the intervening time…

  She was in the street that held the equipment shed. Guardians were grouped around the door. A haze was rising from the pulse fire they were aiming at it, attempting to burn the thing down.

  “Hey,” she yelled from the end of the street. A few of the Guardians heard her.

  “Stop what you’re doing. I demand you leave those people alone.” Cariad ran up to the group.

  The Guardians paused their pulse fire. One said, “We’re following the Leader’s orders.”

  “I know. But the leadership has changed. I’m now Leader of this colony, and I command you to withdraw.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Voices were coming from outside the door. New voices. Ethan thought he recognized one of them. “I command you to stop,” a woman was saying. “Lower your weapons immediately.”

  There was further discussion that Ethan couldn’t quite hear—an argument that went on for some time. He heard the words “Leader” and “Manual” mentioned. Then, after a long, quiet pause there was murmuring followed by the woman’s speaking again, this time through the door.

  “Whoever’s inside, this is Cariad. I’ve ordered the Guardians to stand down. You are not in any danger. You’re free to leave and no harm will come to you, I swear.”

  Cariad.

  “Open the shutters,” Ethan said. The room began to clear of haze. After taking off his shirt and wrapping it around his hand, he opened the hot door. Cariad was directly outside, flanked by Guardians.

  His first impulse was to grab her into his arms, but something made him stop. Guilt? A sense of disloyalty to Lauren? No, it was something else.

  “Ethan,” Cariad said with relief. “I thought you might be here. I’m so glad you’re okay. Has anyone been injured?”

  “Yes, but nothing major.”

  He stepped aside to allow the rest of the farmers to come out. The Guardians also moved back to make room for the men and women. The farmers watched them suspiciously as they filed by, their weapons clutched close to their bodies, dark and angry expressions clouding their features. The rift between Gens and Guardians and Woken yawned wider.

  Cariad glanced at the Guardians before saying to Ethan, “Can we talk in private?”

  He nodded and they went in the opposite direction to the departing farmers, also leaving the Guardians behind.

  “See you later,” Cherry called. She didn’t look too happy about him leaving with Cariad.

  As soon as they were out of earshot of both groups, Cariad laid a hand on Ethan’s upper arm and said, “I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to talk some sense into Anahi, but she’s gone crazy. I can’t reason with her and I don’t know what to do about it. She also seems to have most of the Woken on her side.”

  “What did you do?” Ethan asked. “How did you get the Guardians to back down?”

  “That’s another crazy thing,” Cariad replied, and went on to explain that she had temporarily declared herself Leader.

  “You mean the Guardians just did as you asked? Just because you said you were the new Leader?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what happened.”

  Ethan glanced back at the Guardians in the distance. “So what would happen if I declared myself Leader and told them to go and arrest Anahi?”

  “I don’t think that would work. Since Anahi changed the Manual, it has to be a Woken.”

  “Then maybe you should tell them to arrest her.”

  “I thought about it, but I don’t want to do that, and I’m not going to contest it when she takes back the Leader’s position, as she inevitably will. Too many of the Woken think like her. It wouldn’t be long before I found myself arrested. Up until now, Anahi’s been tolerating me. She was trying to bring me to see her point of view. I don’t think even after this incident she would do anything rash against me. Most of us Woken go back a long way. But I definitely don’t want to push it. I can only work to change the situation if I have my freedom.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  Cariad’s expression told Ethan that his question stung. Perhaps he had been too harsh, but on the other hand, he didn’t see how any of the problems were the fault of the Gens. They’d all mostly been doing as they were supposed to. None of them had deviated much from the Manual, despite—in his own case—a strong desire to. It was the Woken who were changing the rules. It was the Woken who had slipped up and allowed a Natural Movement saboteur aboard the ship. Cariad was a Woken too.

  “Maybe I should speak to the others privately and try to make them see sense,” she said. “If I can change enough minds we might be able to transition back to a more equitable situation peacefully. I know most of the Woken well, Ethan. They aren’t bad people. They’re just worried about the long term survival of the colony. They will be shocked to find out what happened here today. I hope it won’t take much effort to persuade them that Anahi is unstable and needs to be stopped.”

  Ethan didn’t have much faith in Cariad’s plan. He thought that her personal closeness to the Woken was blinding her to their faults. Yet he didn’t have a better solution, or at least not one that didn’t involve potential violence.

  “Okay,” he said. “But I’ll tell you this, Cariad: we may not be as well-educated, experienced, or sophisticated as you Woken, but that doesn’t mean we’ll tolerate being controlled by you for very long. We were brought up with the Manual. We know exactly what it says, and nowhere does it say that the Woken are to take charge of the colony. You’re supposed to be here to join and support the colonization effort. You aren’t our shepherds and we aren’t your sheep.”

  The adrenaline of the fight at the shed was fading and his delayed emotional reaction was flooding in. His tone had risen. With some effort, he controlled his anger. “We outnumber the Woken forty to one, and we’re armed. Don’t imagine we’ll ever surrender. All our lives it’s been drilled into us that this world is ours—that we’re going to make it a home for our children and grandchildren. If it comes to consigning our descendants to what’s basically slavery… What I mean is, you Woken might be able to turn the Guardians on us, but we won’t go down without a fight, even to the death.”

  He found himself leaning menacingly over Cariad. She had turned pale with shock. He stepped back. An apology rose to his lips but didn’t make it out of his mouth. Though it pained him to have spoken so bluntly and threateningly, he’d meant every word of what he’d said. It wouldn’t hurt to impress the seriousness of the situation upon her so she would convey it to her friends.
<
br />   Cariad hung her head, uncharacteristically deflated. His conscience twinged. Perhaps he had been too frank. She was, after all, his closest friend despite being a Woken, she’d saved many Gens from a horrible death in the First Night Attack, and she’d defused the situation over the weapons.

  But then Cariad’s head rose, and she had a sharp look in her eye. “Has it ever occurred to you to ask yourself why this has happened? What is it that’s made Anahi take these steps to remove control from the Gens?”

  “She wants the power, of course,” Ethan replied, “like most of the Woken. When it came down to it, in spite of what it says in the Manual, some of you can’t stand to see us in control. Some of you can’t bear it that your pet project you worked so hard on has been handed over to someone else.”

  “You’re wrong,” Cariad replied. “That isn’t it at all, or at least not for most of us. You’re forgetting that I was there when the Manual was written. Hell, I even wrote some parts of it myself. We knew that what we were demanding of you wasn’t fair. The people who embarked on the voyage were in full knowledge that they were never going to set foot on a planet again, but their children didn’t agree to that, and neither did their children. We knew we were demanding the sacrifice of thousands of people to see the project through to the end and make the dream come true.

  “We decided that the minimum we could do in recognition of the nameless individuals who lived and died aboard a starship would be to gift the planet to you, the Final Generation. We’d put you in the position you were in. You hadn’t asked to be there. We wanted you to be in control. We wanted it to be your world, and we would only be there to help.”

  “So what changed?”

  “Can’t you even guess, Ethan? When we were revived, we found out that somewhere along the journey, the Manual had been rewritten. People who had never seen Earth, never breathed a natural atmosphere, and who never would, thought they were in a position to dictate what should happen. We didn’t like it, but we didn’t say anything. We left you in control.

  “Now think back to the First Night Attack. How did all the Gens behave, with you the only exception? It was near total panic. They couldn’t deal with the emergency. And what’s been happening since? You’re doing as you like. Changing roles, using equipment in ways it isn’t supposed to be used, putting yourselves in danger.