by J. J. Green
Aubriot’s weakness following his revival had entirely disappeared. To Cariad, while he lectured and threatened everyone about the situation planetside, where most of the Gens seemed to have left the settlement, he appeared as athletic and dynamic as he’d been on Earth. “This is unacceptable,” the man thundered for the third or fourth time. “This situation is entirely out of hand, and it’s your fault.” He jabbed an index finger at the seated Woken, who were as meek as sheep. “What the hell were you thinking of, leaving them alone down there, unsupervised? I mean… ” He put his hands on his hips. “What did you think was going to happen? Of course they were going to get away from you. Of course they were going to do their own thing. They aren’t robots. They’re human beings. Of course they’re going to want to be independent.”
Cariad rolled her eyes as Aubriot echoed her words like they were his own.
He paused and glared before going on, “Since you’ve all proven yourselves incapable of handling the situation, I’m going to take control. What’s going to happen is this: none of you are to do anything—nothing, do you hear?—either with or to those people on the planet without my express say-so. Seeing as you’ve proved your incompetence, I’m going to have to sort this situation out and get the Gens back where they’re supposed to be—on that settlement, and doing exactly what they’re supposed to be doing.”
Anahi stood up. All the gazes in the room swiveled to her, Cariad’s included. This ought to be interesting.
“I protest,” she announced, though rather weakly. “I’m Leader of this colony and I—”
“You’re relieved of duty,” Aubriot snapped without even looking at her.
“You can’t do that,” exclaimed Anahi. “It doesn’t even make any sense. My duties are my work. Leader is an… Leader is an official position.”
She’d been about to say, an elected position, Cariad was certain.
Anahi swallowed and continued, “It’s the highest position in the colony. You’re welcome to offer suggestions and advice… That was why I gave the order for you to be revived. I recognized that we would benefit from your expertise in managing people, but I’m the one who has the final decision on how to address any problems with the Gens, not you.”
Cariad was impressed at the woman’s bravery. Though her ploy to revive Aubriot was severely backfiring, she wasn’t giving up easily. Cariad didn’t agree with what she’d done, but she couldn’t help but feel a small measure of admiration. Anahi was aware she was playing with fire. Aubriot could be utterly ruthless in getting whatever he wanted.
“Listen,” Aubriot said, finally gracing Anahi with his eye contact. “In my business, on my ship, people only get to do what they’re good at. You’re a shit Leader. If you hadn’t screwed up, we wouldn’t be down around fifteen hundred people. So you’re out. Understand? I don’t give a fuck what rules you’ve laid down. I’m the one running this place now. I’ve heard you might be a bit sick in the head too. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll trot along to the medical center and stop interfering in things you don’t understand.”
The anger that emanated from Anahi at Aubriot’s words was almost palpable. The woman was rigid and her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. She couldn’t seem to find the words to reply, however, for she stalked from the room, clinging to what little dignity she had left.
Before she had even exited, Aubriot appeared to have forgotten her. He returned his attention to the assembled Woken. “Right. Stop all your other work. You need to fix this problem and fix it now. How many of you are there? About seventy and some more in the freezer. Think you’re going to make it on your own? When the supplies run out, do you think you’re going to survive by yourselves down there? Forget it. You need those two thousand people you’ve managed to piss off. We need them.
“Organize yourselves into teams of five. First, find out where the Gens have gone. Next, bring them back to the settlement. I don’t care how. I heard the Guardians have guns. Use them. Finally, make the Gens bloody well do what they’re told. We need to get this colonization back on track and we need to do it now.”
Aubriot glared at the assembled Woken. He put his hands on his hips and leaned forward before barking, “Move!”
The scientists, who had been frozen in shock and awe, jumped out of their seats. They scurried toward the exits. Cariad’s stomach was in knots. Aubriot was going to make everything worse. If they forced the Gens back to the settlement, they would have a war on their hands. Ethan had threatened as much at the meeting after the incident at the equipment shed.
“You,” yelled Aubriot over the noise of the departing Woken. He was pointing at Strongquist and Faina. “I wanna talk to you.”
The two Guardians stood as Aubriot strode across the room, Woken scattering before him like fish at the approach of a shark. Cariad sidled across to Strongquist and Faina, hoping to be privy to the conversation that promised to follow.
“I’ve been hearing a lot about you Guardians,” was Aubriot’s opening sentence. “I wanna hear more. What are you doing here? What’s your remit? What have you found out about the shuttle bombing? And I wanna see your ship.”
“Well, your final request is easy enough to fulfill,” Faina replied evenly. “Would you like to see the Mistral now? You could return with us. Then perhaps we can answer your other questions on the way.”
Strongquist only watched Aubriot from beneath his brows.
Cariad was surprised at the Guardians’ ready acquiescence to Aubriot’s demand to see the Mistral. As far as she knew, she remained the only person who had been invited to it. Yet, unlike the Woken, their attitude to Aubriot didn’t seem to be fearful. Their demeanor indicated they weren’t remotely cowed by the overbearing, abrasive man. And in truth there was nothing to stop them refusing him and walking calmly away while he ranted and raved. Clearly, being on Aubriot’s right side suited their plans. Not that the man had a right side.
As no one told her she couldn’t come too, Cariad tagged along. She had to do something to stop the conflict that threatened the colony, though she had no idea what.
They took the Guardians’ shuttle to the Mistral. As they swiftly crossed the intervening space and drew near their destination, Aubriot closely studied the Guardians’ ship.
“Is that weaponry you’ve got there?” he asked.
Cariad’s ears pricked up. Weaponry? The Guardians hadn’t mentioned their ship was equipped with weapons.
From the look on Faina’s face, the Guardians hadn’t expected Aubriot or anyone else to recognize them. However, she didn’t prevaricate. “Well spotted. We have pulse cannons fore and aft, rail guns on mounted turrets, and—”
“Rail guns?” Cariad interrupted, peering out. “I thought those things were some kind of scanner.”
“The Mistral has scanners too, of course,” said Strongquist. He said to Aubriot, “I’m impressed that you knew what they were.”
“Had some dealings in the arms trade,” Aubriot explained. “I think I’d recognize a weapon when I saw one. It doesn’t look like the designs have changed much.”
“Are they for space warfare?” Cariad asked, hoping the Guardians’ arms weren’t intended to be used on the planet. “I don’t understand. We barely had the technology to build the Nova Fortuna when we left Earth. Don’t tell me we were already developing weapons to fight battles in space.”
“Always pays to be ahead of the game,” said Aubriot. “Especially when it comes to war. Offense is the best defense, like they say.”
“But who would we have been fighting?” Cariad asked, aghast. “We had the Global Government. No more wars, remember?” When Cariad had been a girl, the Asian, Euro-Asian, African, Latin, and Pacific federations had finally come to the table to join with the Western Alliance to form a single world governing body. Each superstate had been vying for power over the others, political tensions increasing, until finally the wisest heads had prevailed and a catastrophic conflict had been narrowly avoided. C
ariad remembered it as a time of great relief and optimism.
Sadly, the prevailing vision of the future at that time had turned out to be grossly inaccurate. The single government had been no better at solving the problems of exhausted resources and a burgeoning population than the smaller governments had been. Cariad had grown up during a time of increasing concern and fear over the future of civilization. It was one of the factors that had led to interest in the possibility of leaving the Solar System entirely and seeking out a new path for humankind in deep space. Conversely, the fear had also given rise to the Natural Movement as people blamed reliance on technology and science for the problems.
“Could have had a breakaway federation on the Moon or Mars,” Aubriot replied. “Might have needed to quell that. And that’s not even counting the possibility of an alien attack. Yeah,” he ruminated, “if ten-foot alien predators tried to invade, there wouldn’t have been many calls for peace and disarmament then. Talking of which,” he went on, “I take it there haven’t been any signs of an alien presence around here. You would have said if there was, right?”
Cariad didn’t know if he was talking to her or the Guardians. She hadn’t thought about the possible existence of aliens in the sector for a long while. “We haven’t seen any signs of sentience on the planet, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “There are two predatory life forms but I don’t believe the xenozoologists have found anything else other than plant life and microorganisms in the area of the settlement.”
“And the Nova Fortuna didn’t pick up on anything on the way over?” Aubriot asked.
“I don’t think so,” Cariad replied. “I’m not responsible for going over the records. But as far as I know, the scanners didn’t sense anything indicating intelligent life.” Cariad’s thoughts returned to Aubriot’s earlier remarks. She asked, “So was the weapons development you were involved in legal?”
Aubriot gave her a look that told her he neither knew nor cared. He said to Faina, “So, are these weapons standard now on Earth starships?”
The Guardians told Aubriot the story that they’d repeated ever since they arrived—that the Mistral was unique, the only FTL starship ever constructed, and that it had been built specifically to catch up to Nova Fortuna and protect the new colony. They explained that the weapons had been only precautionary. They hadn’t known what they might encounter on the way over or when they arrived.
As she listened to the story again, Cariad found that it rang hollow. There was something about the tale the Guardians told that didn’t ring true, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. Aubriot was watching the two of them like a hawk. Cariad was sure he didn’t believe them either.
***
As she stepped from the shuttle into the Guardians’ ship, Cariad experienced the same sensation of stepping into the future she’d had before. The sleek, spotless appearance of the interior of the Mistral and purity of its atmosphere made the place seem sterile. She wondered if the Guardians enjoyed living aboard their ship or if they missed the organic scents and untidiness of Earth.
She would have loved to ask them, but she’d never achieved the kind of casual friendliness with them that would allow such a question. Although the Guardians were always polite and civil, none of them had ever given the impression of wanting to be friends, not even Strongquist, who she’d spent the most time with. The Guardians also never talked about Earth unless they were directly asked, and they never spoke a word about their personal lives or each other.
The more Cariad thought about it, the odder their behavior seemed. She would have expected a softening of relations by then. She resolved again to do her best to find out more about the enigmatic group, or at the very least she wanted to discover the reason for their standoffishness. Perhaps it was only a feature of human culture that had developed in the centuries since she’d left.
The group went to the ship’s bridge first. Faina explained the functions of the consoles to Aubriot. They were the same as on the Nova Fortuna, like comms, scan reports, navigation. Though Cariad didn’t recognize the consoles, she wasn’t familiar with the Fortuna’s bridge either. Aubriot also seemed much less familiar with these than he’d been with the Mistral’s weapons. He didn’t say anything to indicate that, however, probably choosing to mask his ignorance with silence.
They went to the engine room next, where Strongquist once more explained the working principle of the drive.
Aubriot said, “I knew we’d get there in the end. Didn’t realize it would take so long. Lucky we didn’t wait around, eh Cariad?” He winked at her. “Would’ve been nice to avoid traveling as an ice cube for nearly two centuries, though.” He put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the engine. “Yeah. Beautiful. Beautiful. Almost makes me want to go back to Earth and build another one. Not that I could afford it. All out of cash. But maybe I could raise the money.”
“The Guardians have said that Earth and the Solar Settlements are full to bursting,” Cariad said. “It doesn’t sound like it would be a good idea to go back.”
“Is that right?” Aubriot asked Strongquist and Faina. “But what if I wanted to? What if I wanted to go back on your ship?”
“That wouldn’t be possible,” Faina replied firmly. “We are here to support the settlers and the founding of the colony. You said earlier that you wished to know our remit, and that is it, put simply. Returning individuals to Earth is out of the question.”
Aubriot didn’t reply at first. He was trying to out stare Faina. The woman didn’t buckle. In fact, she betrayed not the slightest sign of any tension as Aubriot gazed down at her, unblinking. Finally, he laughed and turned to Cariad, saying, “Well, you don’t know unless you ask, do you?”
It was a pride-saving move. Aubriot was clearly simmering as his massive ego tried to deal with his failure to intimidate the Guardian.
“We’ll show you the medical center next,” said Strongquist. “If you’re interested, that is.”
“I am,” said Cariad. “I didn’t get to see it when I was here before.”
“This isn’t your first time?” Aubriot asked. “I heard the Guardians didn’t allow people on their ship.”
So that was why he’d particularly wanted to see it. He’d wanted to exercise his self-perceived privilege.
“Cariad was helping us with our investigation into the Natural Movement saboteur,” said Strongquist. “I invited her over to view some records.”
“Hmph,” said Aubriot. “Got your fingers in lots of pies, haven’t you, Cariad? I’ll have to keep an eye on you.”
They walked to the medical center, which was empty. The place was large and full of pristine equipment. Strongquist took the lead in showing them each item and explaining its function. Most interesting of all to Cariad was the gene therapy equipment. The Guardian explained that it engineered the patient’s genes to correct developmental abnormalities.
Cariad’s excitement grew as Strongquist spoke. “You mean we finally cured genetic conditions retroactively?” she asked when he paused.
“Absolutely,” he replied.
“This is marvelous,” Cariad said. “This will help enormously to keep the colony healthy. I weeded out genetic conditions as far as I was able, but I can’t prevent mutations further down the line. So is this available on Earth too?”
“Only within a limited area,” Faina said. “Most of human civilization has no access to advanced technologies such as these.”
Aubriot was looking bored. Two more Guardians had appeared. They were dressed in medical scrubs. Cariad wondered what they were doing there as the center currently had no patients. One of the medics activated a self-powered gurney. He brought it over, presumably to show them, though Cariad didn’t think the design had altered much from her time.
“Cariad,” said Strongquist. “Perhaps you’d like to see the immuno-manipulator?”
“I’d love to,” she replied.
“I’d like to take a look at your weapons systems,” said Aubriot. �
�Medical treatment isn’t really my thing.”
Strongquist led Cariad away from the main group and over to another item of equipment.
“I’ve seen as much as I want to in here,” said Aubriot.
Cariad was inspecting the immuno-manipulator when she realized she hadn’t heard a reply to Aubriot’s comment, yet she also hadn’t heard him and the other Guardians leave. She glanced over her shoulder out of curiosity and gave a squeak of surprise. The large man was collapsing and the medics were catching him.
“Oh no,” Cariad exclaimed as she rushed over. The medics were supporting Aubriot’s considerable weight and placing him on the gurney. His color was normal. “What happened? Did he faint?”
Faina grimaced as if in distaste. “No. Don’t be alarmed. Would you please move out of the way?”
Cariad stepped backward to give the medics more room, bumping into Strongquist, who had come up behind her.
“Perhaps it’s a delayed effect of the revival process,” said Cariad. “I thought he’d recovered. This is terrible. I need to get him back to the Nova Fortuna as soon as possible.”
“I think Aubriot will be better off here,” said Strongquist. “As you’ve seen, our medical facilities are superior.”
“That’s true, but… ” She looked at Faina, who was as unperturbed as ever, as were all the Guardians. “You said he didn’t faint. How do you know? Why aren’t you checking his pulse and airway and pupils? He could be seriously ill.”
“We know what’s wrong with him,” said Faina. “We injected him with a sedative.”
“You what?!”
The medics were strapping Aubriot onto the gurney, restraining his flopping limbs. He was deeply unconscious. His mouth lolled open.
“You sedated him?” Cariad exclaimed. “Why?”
“It was necessary, unfortunately,” said Strongquist. “As we’ve explained, we are here to support the foundation of a healthy, thriving colony. We assessed Aubriot’s personality based on his behavior since he was revived and we checked into his background. We’ve come to the conclusion that this man’s influence would be detrimental to the colony. Therefore we will keep him sedated until such time as he is no longer a threat.”
