The Hope Island Chronicles Boxed Set

by PJ Strebor

  “Lord, he’s a big bugger,” Caleb said. “Look at the spread on those horns. Got to weigh in at three tonnes.”

  “Closer to four,” Abner said.

  An after-effect of the ancient war fought within Tunguska, the animal populations on many planets grew monstrously large. Including the introduced species.

  The buffalo’s territorial dominance was threatened by the newcomers. His head went down, he kicked at the loose soil with a hoof and bellowed a loud warning.

  Abner cocked his rifle, stepped forward and stopped.

  “Come here, youngster.”

  Nathan stood beside him.

  “You think you can hit him with your bow?”

  “Hard to miss,” Nathan said.

  “Yeah, but you have to hit him in a soft part. These critters are as tough as battle armor.”

  Another bellow made Moe jump.

  “I’ll try,” Nathan said, and nocked an arrow.

  One last bellow and the buffalo charged. Nathan waited with his bow arm down waiting for the range to close. And waited.

  Shit.

  Finally he raised the bow, paused for only a second and loosed the arrow. It dug into the cheek under the left eye. The beast kept coming.

  Abner aimed and fired. The buffalo’s head snapped back as the bullet struck him between the eyes. The 12.5-caliber shell had a two hundred grain charge behind it. He collapsed to the ground sending up a cloud of dust.

  Nathan walked over to the fallen beast and laid his hand respectfully on his head. He retrieved his arrow, cleaned the blood off in the soil and returned it to his quiver.

  Abner showed the same respect then stood and placed his hand on Nathan’s shoulder.

  “Nice try. Keep practicing.”

  A compliment from Abner came as often as a solar eclipse. Nathan’s fleeting smile said he knew as much.

  Abner pulled his enormous hunting knife and knelt down beside the fallen beast.

  He looked up at Nathan. “Do you want an ear?”

  “What?”

  “An ear. As a memento.”

  “Ah, no thanks.” Nathan eyed Abner’s weapon. “Will you let me fire it?”

  Abner chambered a round and handed the rifle over. Nathan pointed the barrel to the ground and felt the weight. Not too much for a skinny fourteen-year-old. He brought it to his shoulder and aimed down the sights. He did that three times, getting a feel for it.

  “Safety?”

  Abner snorted. “Off.”

  Nathan turned to face a large rock that stood a good hundred meters away. He raised the weapon.

  “Anchor yourself or the recoil will drop you on your arse. Here, dig the butt into your shoulder.”

  He showed Nathan how to position his feet, angle his body to absorb the brutal recoil. Satisfied he stepped back.

  Nathan raised the weapon, sighted and fired. The shot went slightly wide of the rock. He muttered something Moe suspected was rude.

  Handing the gun back he said, “Thanks, Abner.”

  “You are welcome, Nathan.”

  He rejoined Moe. “How’s the shoulder.”

  “Still there.”

  “It’s got quite the kick, hasn’t it?”

  “Hmm.”

  One thing she knew for certain about her new friend. He did not like losing.

  She would continue his education and bring him out of himself no matter how much he resisted her efforts. What more would she learn about him in the future?

  CHAPTER 13

  Time: 6th January, 314 ASC.

  Position: Port Cranbourne. Planet Kastoria.

  Status: Moving on.

  The city of Port Cranbourne stood at the mouth of the Zamesta River, on the shores of the muddy waters of the Bay of Sorrows. The capital of Kastoria, it was the commercial and administrative hub of the system. It contained the largest concentration of people on the planet, boasting a permanent population of just over a million people. Essentially Kastoria had developed into a world of widely dispersed farming communities with the bulk of the population spread thinly across its two main continents. As such, Port Cranbourne also had the distinction of being the only place on the southern continent with the facilities to educate students to a senior high school level. From all points on the continent's geographical map junior high school graduates flooded into the port to complete their education.

  For Moe the day began as any other day in the eighteen months since moving south. Up just before dawn to join Nathan for the first of his exercise workouts. A leisurely ten click run from the dorms down to the bay and back. Nathan always pushed her to go faster so she pushed back. It worked well for both of them.

  “I never thought I’d say it,” she said, having caught her second wind, “but I actually miss Taylor’s Bend.”

  “I know what you mean,” Nathan said. “I miss my family.”

  “What?”

  “Wadda ya mean, what?”

  “That’s the first time you’ve called the Penkovskys your family.”

  “No, I do it all the time.”

  “Buffalo shit.”

  He chuckled and managed to shrug while maintaining his pace.

  Another breakthrough but not the first Moe had seen come over her friend in the last year and a half.

  “Hey, remember our first day at school here?”

  He smiled. “Yeah.”

  “I was scared to death.”

  “Not me.”

  “Once again, my friend, buffalo shit.”

  “Hmm, first time away from home had all of the kids a little rattled.”

  “Yeah, some of them had a really hard time fitting in.”

  “Hmm.”

  Yeah, he’s not going to bite.

  Even for Moe, entering this new world of adolescent politics held traps and terrors to freeze the heart. She observed in silent awe and heartbreaking admiration as Nathan struggled to overcome his natural reserve.

  She had witnessed his remarkable growth over that time from a wary, reticent boy into a confident, mature young man. He had taken his lumps and pushed through, driven by an inner demon that refused to be cowered.

  “I’m taking in the new exhibit at the museum after last class,” Nathan said. “You want to come?”

  “Ha. Soak up the rich diversity and fresh ideas of the city?”

  “It’s only an exhibition, Moe. You should open your mind to new experiences.”

  “You know what I told you, last time you said that.”

  “Ah, yeah. And if I recall, I told you that it was physically impossible.”

  They both chuckled. As the dorm came into view Nathan took off at a sprint.

  For Moe and Nathan the pace of life at Cranbourne quickened with their growing maturity, the full, rich sweetness of life filling them with wondrous aspirations for the future.

  ***

  Olivia Marshall spent her first day at Julia Bryant Senior High School in a self-absorbed state of misery. How could her parents have done this to her? All of her friends were on Athens along with her well-planned hopes for the future. Then out of the blue her father had been assigned to this primitive back world to replace the retiring Governor. Of all the damnable bad luck that could befall a girl. Olivia tried to comfort herself with probably the oldest dirge known to the human race.

  Why me?

  The Anastasia Kimbrough Academy for Young Ladies had been her home since her tenth year. The Academy accepted only the children of privilege from families of note, holding them to its nurturing bosom whilst studiously preparing them for a bright future within the highest echelons of Republican society.

  Now, thanks to her parents, her well-planned future lay in ruins.

  Bad enough for her to be marooned on this world far from civilization and friends, but to be put in with the general school population. Intolerable. The Kastorians frightened her, their dry, brash behavior setting her nerves on edge. They knew no
thing of political correctness or polite reserve.

  Olivia entered the classroom with her head held high, in the manner of a true Republican. She held her broad-brimmed hat in both hands to stop them from shaking. The swish of her long stylish dress against the floor made a few of the girls pay attention. Her heart raced as she struggled to maintain her poise.

  Her introduction to the nightmare began with the teacher. She could not imagine how this colonial had been granted a teaching certificate. A thin young woman with long, dark brown hair, stood before the class. She turned and smiled as Olivia stepped into the room.

  "You must be Olivia," she said. Olivia maintained her poise and offered her credentials that contained her transfer records from the Anastasia Kimbrough Academy for Young Ladies. The teacher glanced at them. "Good old AKA." She seemed unusually amused with Olivia's stunned reaction, but moved on rapidly. "I'm Elenora Duprea," she said. Not Miss Duprea, mind you, but Elenora. Then she touched her on the shoulder to turn her around to face the class. This would be an unforgivable faux pas within the better circles of Athenian society. .

  "Ladies and gentlemen," she said, "we have someone new joining our class today. This is Olivia Marshall who has just arrived from the Republic."

  The range of expressions varied immensely amongst the thirty-odd students. Some smiled with irritating indulgence, some grimaced, one leered and two of them sitting side by side at the back of the class exchanged knowing looks. That annoyed her more than anything else. These barbarians dared to think they knew something about her. Such presumption would earn them a good thrashing back home.

  "I would like everyone to make her feel welcome," Elenora continued. "Most of you are aware of what it's like to arrive at this school as strangers. So please, show Olivia the same courtesy that you were shown when you first came here."

  "My first day here a group of seniors gave me a wedgy in the middle of the quadrangle," one of the boys said. The class broke into open laughter, including the teacher. Unbelievable.

  "Well I certainly hope you will treat Olivia with a little more respect than that," the teacher said, and again touched her on the shoulder. "Take a seat, Olivia."

  She looked around the classroom and saw three empty seats. "Where?" she asked feeling as if she wanted to find somewhere dark to hide.

  "Anywhere you like."

  Incredible. Back at the Academy everyone had their place set out. 'A place for everyone and everyone in their place'. Olivia looked at the available seating and her eyes widened in horror. A particularly large boy, the one with the leer apparently stuck to his chubby face, patted his broad thigh and beckoned her on. Could he mean? No, surely not. Her startled expression only fed the insanity. The entire class roared with laughter as she stood frozen with disbelief.

  "Jonathan!" the teacher warned. "Olivia, sit there," she said, pointing to the spare seat at the back of the room.

  Olivia scurried to the seat, next to the girl with the lopsided smile, keeping her eyes averted from the rest of the class. The lesson commenced and for the next two hours she kept her head down, until the period ended and the bell sounded for recess. She stayed in place as the students filed out like the disorderly rabble that they were. When the cacophony ceased, she raised her eyes to find two of the colonials standing before her. The same two, both with amused expressions on their faces.

  "Welcome to Kastoria." Moderately shorter than the boy and of slight but robust build, her lethargic colonial accent failed to cover the toughness that lurked behind her open smile. Her almond-shaped eyes had a twinkle in them that made the light hazel color shine with mischief from her chocolate-tanned face. "I'm Moe Okuma, and this troublemaker," she hooked a thumb over her shoulder at the boy, "is Nathan Telford."

  Olivia stared at the strange duo, caught in a paralysis of indecision. She did not wish to encourage any of these people, for she could not be sure if they intended to do her harm. She just wanted to run home and beg her mother to let her flee back to Athens, back to safety.

  The girl, Moe, glanced over her shoulder and snorted softly at the ridiculously wry expression that greeted her. The boy had obviously been involved in some type of nefarious activity in recent times. His left arm hung in a loose, old-fashioned sling, bandaged to the fingers. His face bore abrasions and bruises, and a soft bandage covered a spot on the back of his head. Still, he did have a certain …

  "Perhaps you need to speak slowly," the boy drawled. "Republicans aren't all that bright."

  "I understand you, colonial," she spat through set teeth. Olivia immediately regretted her outburst, noticing for the first time that the room contained only the three of them. No sounds came from the outside corridor. "If you dare to touch me I will have my father punish you in the most severe manner imaginable. He is the new Governor, you know," she added with menace. She assumed that fact alone should be sufficient to put these colonials in their place.

  A quizzical expression covered Moe’s face that was both curious and sadly amused at the same time. The boy, Nathan, began to chuckle. His eyes never left hers even though his head shook slowly. Olivia's blood boiled.

  "Don't laugh at me you … you …"

  "Colonial barbarian?" Nathan offered. That started the other one laughing.

  Both of them laughing at her now. Her chest began to heave with fury at this unbearable outrage. "Don't laugh at me!" Her scream sounded oddly petulant, which surprised her.

  "Then stop acting like an obnoxious core borer," Moe said. "If you weren't such a twit, and gave us a chance to talk, you’d have found out that we were only going to offer to show you around. You know, like where the cafeteria is, for example.” She stared at Olivia with a mixture of contempt and pity.”You know, we don't actually eat people out here in the colonies. Do we Nathan?" she asked without turning around.

  "Not recently," he said, showing the same look of pity.

  Pity! Now on top of everything else these colonials were showing her pity. Her anger had grown to a level where she dared not speak.

  Moe stepped back from her table and looked at her friend. "It would seem that our welcoming committee of two is not appreciated." She shook her head again and turned to leave. "Let's go Nathan." He stood in place, his soft gaze locked onto her.

  "I'll be along in a minute." His voice held no trace of bitterness or anger. Moe grunted disagreeably and left her alone with him.

  Olivia should have been terrified of him, a rough colonial oaf covered in bandages. She could detect nothing in the way of malice in his beautiful gray eyes. On the contrary, his quiet manner had a decidedly calming effect on her.

  He sat down on the table in front of her and put his feet on the chair, resting his forearms on his knees. "First day at a new school can be rough," he said. "I was not quiet fourteen when I first arrived on Kastoria, and I was pretty nervous about the whole thing." A shadow passed over his eyes. "Unlike you, I didn't have my family with me, which made it doubly nerve racking. But I adjusted to life here, and so can you. Kastorians are as fine a people as you will find anywhere. They are generally a warm and friendly people ready to give any newcomer a fair go. All we ask in return is a modicum of good manners."

  He had been doing remarkably well up till that point. "Are you suggesting that I lack good manners?" Olivia said narrowing her eyes.

  "Two people just tried to help you fit in around here and you spat on us for our efforts. You don't know anything about us and vice versa, but we have an old tradition out here in the colonies, that when someone offers you the hand of friendship you don't slap it away. On Kastoria that sort of behavior is generally considered to be ill- mannered."

  He stood and strolled from the class room without another word, leaving her stunned and ambivalent.

  What just happened? Had a colonial lectured her on good manners?

  Although Olivia wanted, more than anything, to flee from this place to the safety of her home, she forced herself to remain and complete the rest
of the school day. She spoke to no one and no one spoke to her. During the lunch break she sought refuge in the library and locked herself into a computer booth. Many of the students stared at her as she marched with stiff formality through the corridors, transiting between classes.

  As the relentless day crawled on Olivia began to wonder if she had, in fact, been rude to Nathan and his friend. She detested bad manners and could not believe that she had been guilty of such a crime. Throughout the afternoon she heard nothing that the teachers said. Her mind reran the incident with the two colonials over and over. Had she been so scared of the unknown that she acted poorly?

  It turned out to be the longest day of her life and when the final bell rang she ran from the classroom and fled down the stairs till she found herself alone in the front quadrangle where she sought out a shady alcove and wept. Her outburst lasted only a minute and she regained her control as the sound of stampeding feet grew.

  ***

  Moe and Nathan walked casually down the front steps of the school and onto the quadrangle. The quad had for years been the traditional after-school meeting place for cliques of teenagers to discuss the day's events. Since recess, Nathan had slipped into one of his more reticent moods. Moe had a suspicion as to what might be on his mind and chose to confront the issue in her usual subtle way.

  "So, did you have a nice talk with your little Athenian girlfriend?"

  He shot her an amusingly dangerous look but said nothing.

  He had never appreciated her attempts to make him out to be the great lothario of the school. He did not chase girls and appeared to be continually surprised - and at times a little embarrassed - by the attention paid to him by the mature Kastorian teenage girls.

  Moe slapped him playfully on his good shoulder. "What's up, Nate?" Again, he just shook his head in that way that meant that he wasn't in the mood to discuss it.

  Moe knew that he must be in a degree of discomfort after his hunting accident. Even with a broken arm, cracked ribs and lacerations from head to toe, Nathan had never been the sort of person to consult a doctor for pain relief. It appeared that something else prayed on his mind other than his injuries. Then, without warning, the gentleness returned to his eyes.