T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion

by Doug L. Hoffman

  She didn't want to spook her squad, but she couldn't help thinking, I sure hope the Captain knows how to fight black goo, because I doubt that railguns are going to be very effective.

  Captain's Sea Cabin, Peggy Sue

  The ship's officers just managed to fit in the Captain's sea cabin with the addition of Doc White, Chief Zackly and Gunny Acuna. Even Chief Engineer Baldursson had made his way forward from snipe country to attend in person. The topic of discussion was what to do when the ship arrived at planet C in another day and a half.

  “Are you saying that Fortune's captain did not take the warning message seriously?” asked Beth.

  “I'm afraid so,” the Captain replied. “Seems that Capt. Chakrabarti has a skeptical streak. His reply was more-or-less, 'tell me another good one'.”

  “I'm not sure I blame him,” said Bobby. “If a bunch of treasure hunters—who had given the place a clean bill of health a month ago—suddenly came charging back from the outer planets yelling about dire threats to the colonists I had just finished off loading, I'd be a bit skeptical myself.”

  “Did you send him the videos?” asked Arin.

  “No, I didn't want to shock him or come on too strong. I was half afraid that sending the doomsday video might make him even more suspicious of our motives.”

  “Why would you say that, Billy Ray?” asked Doc White. For some reason, starship medical officers tended to call their captains by their given name—a tradition going back to Bones and Captain Kirk on the original Star Trek.

  “Think about it, Betty. In our report to the Fortune we purposefully omitted the existence of alien technology in the ruins, just in case we found something of commercial value worth claiming there. If what we are sayin' is true, then the ruins on Paradise do contain alien technology, technology that we must have gotten working. Maybe we just realized that there was treasure to be had on the planet, and maybe we came up with a tall tale to scare off the settlers. After all, discovering a video showing the death of a civilization 10,000 years ago seems a mite... convenient.”

  “I guess you're right, the timing does seem a bit coincidental.”

  “Paradise?” the Gunny said in a questioning tone.

  “Yeah, evidently the Colonization Board types decided to name the planet Paradise.”

  “Sort of like a real estate developer naming a subdivision 'sunny acres' or something similar,” observed Bobby.

  “What about the accident in the Lab Module?” asked Mizuki. “That does not require the viewer to believe a catastrophe from the past. What happened to Dr. Rogers should be horrible enough to capture Capt. Chakrabarti's attention.”

  “I'm going to try sending that next. We all may be wrong—in fact I pray we are—but I'm afraid that there's trouble a-brewin' in Paradise.”

  Cargo Hold, ESS Fortune

  “Come on, Manuel, we gotta get these goats on board the shuttle before anyone else sees 'em,” the shuttle pilot known as Mason said to his partner in crime.

  “Hey man, I ain't no goat herder.”

  Months ago, when the Fortune was still in its slip at the Farside Moon base, Mason and Manuel, in collusion with the purser, managed to slip six goats aboard and hide them in one of the cargo hold's many nooks and crannies. They did this not because they were animals lovers, but because one of the lead settlers, Rabbi Menaheim, had made a fuss over there being no goats among the livestock being shipped with the colonists.

  The three goat smugglers were not risking their careers out of kindness toward the prickly old Rabbi either. Mason had managed to make contact with Menaheim before the settlers were boarded and negotiated a transport fee for the critters. With all the other animals in the hold, a few more didn't noticeably add to the noise and mess, and there was plenty of fodder to go around. This last part of the scheme was the trickiest, getting the goats to the surface unseen by the rest of the transport ship's crew.

  They had to wait until the last load for the Jewish settlers as well. If they transported the goats on an earlier trip, crew from one of the other shuttles might have spotted them in the settlers' compound. As it was the scheme was risky enough, but it was worth it. Mason, Manuel and the purser stood to double their earnings for the voyage.

  The smugglers had been concerned about how the payment would be made, given that Rabbi Menaheim would be several light-years away when the Fortune returned to the Moon. If he double crossed them they could hardly return to Paradise to demand their money. In the end it was the Rabbi who came up with a solution. He placed the payment—the accumulated savings of his entire flock—into an account at the First Lunar Bank. That account required the signatures of all three co-conspirators and a code from the Rabbi to open.

  Moreover, there was a time delay on any withdrawals until after the ship departed. The smugglers could verify that the funds were in the bank just prior to departure but could not remove the credits. The Rabbi would not give them the secret code until the goats were delivered dirtside—if they didn't come through with the goats, the money would stay locked in the bank forever. Mason and party didn't think that the Rabbi would stiff them on the password. With his entire group on the planet below, he had no further need for Earth credits.

  “Here, try waving one of these in front of 'em.” Mason produced a hand full of carrots from his coverall pocket.

  “Wow, man, you do know a lot about goats,” said Manuel as the recalcitrant goats caught the scent of the carrots and followed the two men up the ramp into the shuttle.

  “I know even more about makin' money, my friend. Stick with me, this colonial transport business could turn into a goldmine.”

  With the last of the goats lured aboard, the ramp was raised and Manuel scattered a bail of alfalfa around to keep the goats busy during the descent. Mason started the undocking procedure.

  “Fortune, Shuttle Charlie. We are ready for departure.” The Fortune's three shuttles were designated A, B, and C, which translated phonetically to Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie for radio communication.

  “Shuttle Charlie, this is Capt. Chakrabarti. What is your cargo and where are you bound?”

  Mason grinned a smuggler's grin and replied.

  “We are bound for New Jerusalem with a partial load of animal fodder and basic farm tools. There are also a few odds and ends like a repair kit for solar panels and replacement parts for the radio.”

  “And this is the last trip you need to make to the surface?”

  “Affirmative, Captain. I think we've pretty much cleaned out the cargo hold. Nothing left but stray manure from the farm animals. I'm sending you the bill of lading now.”

  “Roger, Shuttle Charlie. Have a good trip.”

  The shuttle's repulsors pushed it away from the larger bulk of the transport and the two crewmen began their last trip to the surface of Paradise. On the planet below, the local sun was directly overhead on the continent where New Jerusalem lay. It would be nearly nightfall by the time the shuttle landed its cargo of odds and ends, and clandestine goats.

  Chapter 20

  New Mecca, Paradise

  Shadi and Dorri began their day with a breakfast of flat bread and foul mudammas, a fava bean porridge made with garlic and olive oil. Called ful for short, the mixture had been prepared before they departed the morning before. In Muslim countries ful was often eaten for breakfast during Ramadan, the filling dish allowing people to fast more comfortably during the daylight hours. Using pieces of bread to scoop up the savory mashed beans, the girls were quickly sated and ready for another day herding sheep.

  After rolling up their sleeping mats and securing their few possessions in bundles on their backs, the sisters resumed their uphill trek, heading toward the rocky foothills beyond the edge of the prairie grass. It was another beautiful day on Paradise, with fluffy white clouds drifting over grassy plains that stretched seemingly to the horizon. The advantage of higher elevation gave the girls a clear view of New Mecca in the distance, its white buildings taking on a slightly rosy tint in
GJ667C's redder than Sol light.

  Looking back at the settlement, for the second time Shadi saw something moving where nothing should. Shading her eyes with her hand she squinted at the moving figure that was headed their way, wishing she had thought to bring a pair of binoculars from the ship. As the figure drew nearer it resolved to horse and rider.

  “Dorri, it looks like we are having company.” Shadi pointed with one arm at the figure in the distance.

  Dorri looked at her sister quizzically and then followed her outstretched arm.

  “It looks like someone on a horse,” she said.

  “Your eyes are better than mine, little star. It will still take whoever it is a while to get here, but stay close.”

  “Sure. I hope they haven't been sent to make us come back early.”

  “We will see.”

  * * * * *

  An hour and a half later the horse and rider approached the flock at a canter. Atop the big roan mare was a man in flowing white robes with a red checkered gutra on his head. Both girls recognized the man immediately—Ahmed, Dorri's husband to be.

  Ahmed reined his mount to a stop five meters from the sisters. Sweat glistened on the horse's neck and flanks. The mare blew and snorted, tossing her head up and down. After almost a month in a stall on board the ship, being asked to canter up hill under Paradise's heavier gravity had winded her.

  “As-salaam alaikumā,” Ahmed greeted the sisters with the traditional Arab phrase, Peace be upon you.

  “Wa alaikum as-salaam,” replied Shadi, and upon you be peace. Traditional pleasantries disposed of she continued in that language. “What brings you so far from the settlement, Ahmed? You know you should not be here with us without a male from our household present.”

  “Maybe I just couldn't wait until the wedding to see my new bride.” He smiled a toothy smile at Dorri, who had the good sense to modestly cover her lower face with the tail of her headscarf.

  “What? You would risk you new wife's reputation as a chaste woman because you can't control your lustful yearnings? Be gone!” Shadi made shooing motions with both hands.

  Ahmed was taken aback, unconsciously jerking on the reigns, causing his mount to step sideways away from the sisters and their sheep.

  “I mean no harm, my soon to be sister-in-law. Besides, there is no one around to see us,” Ahmed replied after regaining his momentarily lost composure.

  “People in the settlement can certainly see that you have ridden up to the flock of sheep, so stay on your horse and depart.”

  Ahmed looked nervously over his shoulder at the distant New Mecca. Turning back he had a half snarl on his normally smiling face.

  “Have it your way, Shadi, but in a few days you will no longer have a say in things. Dorri will belong to me and she won't be taking any more nature walks with you and the sheep. And I doubt your new husband will let you wander about, not until he's ridden you bowlegged!”

  With that he pulled on the reigns and headed his mount back down hill, angling to the east and the river. As he rode away Dorri let go of her headscarf and stared after him.

  “I used to think that I was the lucky one, sister. That I was at least getting a decent young man for a husband. But it appears that Ahmed is a self centered pig.”

  Shadi shook her head sadly. “He is like all other men, spoiled brats who treat their women like possessions. I hope he falls in the river.”

  “I just hope he doesn't harm the poor horse.”

  The sisters looked at each other with brave smiles on their faces, but there was sorrow in their eyes.

  Mizuki & Bobby's Quarters, Peggy Sue

  The run back to the inner planets was routine to the point of boredom. That boredom did not diminish the constant stream of questions from other members of the crew regarding what they were headed for back on planet C, now universally referred to as Paradise. To escape the queries, Mizuki and Bobby had retreated to the privacy of their cabin following the evening meal. The couple was relaxing, sitting on their couch in front of a low table, sipping tea.

  Billy Ray was the captain, and one did not cross examine a man who could clap you in the brig or have you thrown overboard. For different reasons, Beth was not considered easily approachable by the crew either. She had not served with members of the enlisted crew before and her stiff, formal deportment, instilled by her previous career in the Royal Navy, made her seem an imposing figure. That left Bobby, the sailing master, as the most approachable officer aboard.

  “The whole crew is on edge about returning to Paradise,” Bobby said. Having lived with Mizuki for several years he was used to the presence of her pets, the aoi chō. They were always about in their apartment at Farside, but since moving aboard the Peggy Sue their personal space had shrunk considerably. Their cabin now resembled a butterfly conservatory at a zoo, with the winged creatures flitting about everywhere.

  “I can imagine, the other scientists are anxious as well. I don't really know what we can do when we get there, except try to convince the other ship's captain to transport the settlers back to his vessel.”

  “That's only part of the battle, sweetheart. We have to convince the colonists to abandon their settlements as well. The satellite recon pictures show that they have really moved fast on constructing their new villages, and the grass that was planted has spread for kilometers in all directions. It's hard to believe that anything could just rise up and erase all of that.”

  “I know, but you have seen the alien recordings as have I. If what Dr. Rogers awoke was the blight that scoured Paradise clean of life, and it is still present in locations other than the ruined city where we took our samples, disaster could strike at any time.”

  “Like I said, we have to get those people off of the planet, and we can't do that by ourselves, there isn't enough space for two hundred passengers on board the Peggy Sue.”

  “You and Billy Ray and Beth will figure something out once we get there.” Mizuki took his hand. “Have I told you how proud I was of you on the metal moon?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean I was the senior officer present, I had to do something.” Bobby blushed. As much as he longed for Mizuki's praise he didn't really handle it well when he got it.

  “You figured out how to get there in time to save the mission, and made first contact with the Horta when we got there.”

  “But you helped a lot. You figured out tracking the aliens using the DU dust. And when we did get to the big chamber you helped calm the Marines down while I tried to talk with the head rock.”

  “That is because we make a great team, Bobby.” Mizuki smiled and stood up. Taking Bobby's other had, she pulled him up from the couch. The air was filled with brightly colored butterflies as the walked together to the bed.

  The River, South East of New Mecca

  After his cold reception from Dorri and her sister, Ahmed rode east, heading for the river that lay beyond the settlement. When he arrived on the banks of the river he paused and allowed his horse to cool off and drink. He was not a cruel man by nature and had some experience caring for horses. It was that experience that convinced Imam Mustafa to let him take the big mare out for some exercise.

  Once his mount recovered from the trip down to the river, they headed south along its bank. They traveled for kilometers until a shallow oxbow presented a convenient crossing place. Fording the river, Ahmed continued south along the far bank until he was beyond the reach of the grass planted by the settlers' drones.

  In his traditional flowing white robes and red checked head cover, Ahmed looked like an Arab sheik from an old Hollywood movie, a solitary figure riding across the vast desert wastes. As he rode, he mulled his encounter with Dorri and her sister over in his mind. It had not been his intention to upset the two young women. In fact, he thought they would enjoy a visit as a break from the boredom of watching sheep turn grass into dung. After seventeen years of life, women remained a total mystery to Ahmed.

  Walah, I am glad I am not marrying the older siste
r, he thought, what a bitch!

  Ahmed held the reins loosely in his left hand and worked the beads of a misbaha through the fingers of his right. A misbaha is a string of prayer beads, often used to perform dhikr, the personal remembrance of God. His string contained thirty three amber beads, which he would pass through his fingers three times while reciting the Ninety-Nine Names of Allah. Currently he recited no names, but fingered the smooth beads out of habit.

  I just hope that Dorri doesn't sour like her sister over time. This is what happens when you allow women to get an education. Cooking and raising children, what else does a woman need to know?

  The sun was sinking low in the western sky, twilight would be coming soon. Time to start back to the settlement if he was not going to end up riding in the dark. This planet had no large moon to guide the steps of those traveling at night.

  He was barely paying attention to where the mare was taking him, lost in his thoughts. The big roan paused and snorted, tossing her head. Then she moved forward with a start.

  “What is it, girl?” Ahmed asked.

  The horse whinnied and stumbled. The string of beads flew from his hand as he grabbed the reins. The horse whinnied loudly and fell sideways. That was when he noticed black strands emerging from the sandy soil, wrapping themselves around his mount's legs.

  Ahmed tried to throw himself off the horse but the black sinews wrapped around his legs, pinning him in place. Searing pain lanced up his thighs and torso as the black sinews whipped around him. He tried to cry out but was paralyzed by the strands that encased both rider and mount in a shared cocoon of agony. His last thought was, Allah be merciful.

  Down sank their remains as flesh and bone dissolved. Ahmed's clothes and the mare's tack and saddle were also absorbed by the voracious blackness. The corruption that had taken them roiled and quivered and slowly sank back into the sandy river bank. In the failing light it was almost as though they had never existed.