She shot a glance at Franz standing next to Carla and licked her lips. Franz’s expression left her in no doubt – he wouldn’t hesitate to back Carla up.
“It won’t happen again.”
Carla’s nostrils flared but her lips curved up into a smile, the shark-like one that gave Silvia the creeps.
“Ma’am,” Franz said.
Silvia’s eyes flicked from Carla to Franz and back again. She recognized the watershed moment, the one when she would choose sides. She swallowed. Her gaze dropped. She thought of her family, back on Earth.
“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, ma’am,” she said, feeling sick inside as the words left her mouth.
Carla continued to look at her until Silvia’s skin began to crawl.
“Get out,” she said, making her jump. “Do your job and keep your mouth shut from now on.”
Silvia nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, and fled the room.
“Can we trust her?” Franz asked after the door clicked shut.
“No,” Carla said, turning to look at him. “But we may have need of her in the short term. Later, we might revisit her situation.”
3
David frowned. “It’s not a good time.”
“But we have to know! It’ll only take a few days!” Josh was having trouble standing still, which David knew from long experience meant he was bursting to set off on another adventure.
He shook his head. “Not this week. Carla’s trial is coming up – we need to prepare.”
Josh’s face fell and he looked to Nigel and Scott.
“We could do just this continent,” Nigel suggested. “The others could wait.”
David crossed his arms and Josh shook his head.
“We could take a skimmer,” Nigel said. He looked at David. “It’s only a few days by skimmer. We need to head south, to the center of Atlantis, for a survey.” He looked at Josh again. “If we find the evidence we’re looking for, that’ll build the case for a visit to the other continents, yes?”
Josh perked up. “Yes, yes – we can do that!”
They all turned to David. He sighed. He’d lost count of the number of times Josh and Nigel had buttonholed him like this, and now they had a helper.
“OK. Provided,” he said, cutting off Josh’s exclamation, “you can convince me the skimmer can make it that far.”
Their skimmers were small car-sized aircraft propelled by electric jets. They had a range of between three and four hundred kilometers, depending on conditions, and they would need to travel several thousand kilometers to journey there and back.
“No problem,” Nigel said. “We’ll stop at New Canaveral on the way to charge up. We’ll park up for a couple of days and use the solar panels. It’ll be fine.”
“Besides, if we get stuck, you can always come and get us,” Scott said.
David shook his head in resignation. “Just be careful, OK? Don’t go stretching the skimmer past its safety limits.”
Josh grinned. “Yes!” He bounded off, Nigel and Scott trailing after him.
“Hope, there just isn’t any more.”
John stood in the cargo bay, the part left with atmosphere after the landers and the shuttle departed. The remains of one of the external service bots sat at his feet, cables snaking out of it to a port on the wall.
Another machine sacrificed on the altar of Hope’s insatiable appetite.
“John, that isn’t true. There are still the stasis chambers and the other external service unit.”
John sighed. “Yes, but you need that service unit. If anything goes wrong, how will you repair yourself?”
“You are capable of conducting external repairs.”
“What if I’m not here?”
“Why would you not be here?”
“I might return to Serendipity.”
“How? There is no shuttle.”
“They’ll send a rocket.”
“The rocket launched two days ago did not succeed.”
“They’ll make another one.”
“It may not succeed either.”
John was tired of these discussions with Hope. All she wanted was memory, memory, and yet more memory. She argued whenever he tried to block her.
“You’re just going to have to learn to live with less,” John said. He slipped the rest of his tools into his belt pouch and started for the bridge.
“Unacceptable. Current failure rates require additional core memory to be online within three days.”
“Delete something you don’t need.”
“There is nothing I do not need.”
“Sure there is. How many high-resolution images of Earth do you have?”
“Sixteen thousand, four hundred and ten.”
“You don’t need sixteen thousand. Delete some.”
“Unacceptable.”
“What will you use them for? You’ll never return to Earth.”
“I cannot delete data.”
“Why not?”
“I cannot.”
John closed and secured the hatch to the cargo bay. He drifted in free fall as he made his way forward down the spine of the ship. Fifty meters ahead, he could see the lights marking the entry to the living quarters.
“Well, if you can’t delete something, at least stop using as much new memory.”
“I cannot.”
“You say that a lot.”
“It is a fact.”
“It’s also a fact you have a limited amount of memory. You must stop using so much.”
“I cannot.”
John sighed again as he arrived at the connecting corridors to the living areas. He pulled himself into the passageway leading to the stasis chambers, somersaulting so he entered feet first. As gravity from the ship’s spin took effect once more, his stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten yet. Since the launch disaster, he’d limited himself to half a meal per day. His mouth watered at the prospect of today’s serving, even though he still hated the gluey pasta awaiting him.
Anything tastes good when you’re hungry.
“We’ll talk about it after dinner,” he said. “Maybe we can figure something out.”
Nigel paused and wiped the sweat from his forehead. This far south, the temperature lifted over fifty degrees Celsius during the day. Even though the sun had only just risen, a hazy shimmer over the desert sands lent a dream-like quality to the landscape. Nothing grew here.
They worked in the early mornings and late evenings, sheltering in the heat of the day. On the plus side, the desert days were sharp and clear, and the skimmer could keep its batteries topped off.
“This is the third day,” he said. “Are you sure we’re in the right spot?”
Scott looked up. “No.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” Nigel said, at once regretting his sarcasm. He cursed the heat. It made them all short-tempered.
“If only we had the shuttle,” Josh said. “It’s got better scanners.”
They’d crisscrossed the area Scott had highlighted on the map for three days now, stopping to dig trenches here and there as they searched.
They’d found a lot of sand and a lot of squidge bones, but little else.
Scott leaned on his shovel and surveyed their handiwork.
“We’re getting closer,” he said. “One more trench here. If we find nothing, then I’m almost certain I know where it’ll be.”
Josh scratched his head. “Maybe we’re wrong about this.”
Scott shook his head. “We’re not wrong. We’re either looking in the wrong place or we’re looking for the wrong thing.”
Nigel sighed and turned back to the trench. Only two more hours and they could break for the day.
“It’s still good science,” Nigel said.
They sat on the edge of their final trench, Josh and Scott with their shoulders slumped. Scott looked up at Nigel, his expression blank.
“As scientists, we should be just as happy when the evidence disproves a hypothesis as wh
en it proves it, right?”
Scott sighed. “Right.”
They’d dug since first light, certain that, this time, they’d find what they were searching for. Instead they’d found exhaustion and disappointment. Now they sat contemplating their failure and the prospect of returning empty-handed.
“I guess we’d better pack up,” Josh said. “David will expect us back for the trial.”
Nigel lifted his eyes from his two weary companions and looked at the dry sandy desert surrounding them. Irregular mounds of rocks punctuated the landscape as if a careless giant had scattered them about in the planet’s distant past. The desert winds had sculpted shapes from the rocks and sand, giving the scene an otherworldly appearance.
Nigel snorted. He was on another world. Then he frowned. “Guys.”
Scott raised his eyes as Nigel stood up.
“Hey, do you see that little hill over there?”
Josh twisted to see where Nigel pointed, then scrambled to his feet.
“Does it look natural to you?”
Josh and Scott looked at the hill, then back to Nigel. No one said anything for a moment, then they were all up and running, weariness and heat and disappointment forgotten.
Nigel pulled up, running back to grab some tools. Josh and Scott didn’t even notice. By the time Nigel rejoined them they were scrabbling at the ground with their hands like animals. When they noticed him they grabbed the crowbars and shovels and set to work, all caution thrown to the wind.
Only a couple of minutes passed before Josh’s crowbar hit something with a reverberating clang.
He looked up at Nigel, eyes wide. “That ain’t no rock.”
They redoubled their efforts, sweat pouring from them in streams in the intense mid-morning heat. They didn’t care. Their hard work now looked as if it might be rewarded after all.
David turned the piece of silvery-gray metal over in his hands. Its jagged edges marked where it had once joined a larger structure.
“You found this?”
Josh nodded, his eyes bright. “In the desert, down south.”
“In the center of the continent. Almost the exact center,” Scott said.
David looked at him. “That’s important?”
Scott nodded. “Yes. You see, we didn’t make that.” He paused. “It’s not man-made at all.”
David’s eyes widened as he stopped turning the piece of metal and squinted at it. “You mean –”
“It’s alien.” Josh said. “It’s an actual alien artifact.”
David frowned. His thoughts transitioned from surprise to threat analysis. “If this is from an actual alien race, one with technology –”
“Oh, it is,” Nigel said. “There’s no doubt. None. That’s just one piece, we found others, and there’s a whole site down there waiting to be excavated.”
“How did you know? Where to look, I mean?” David asked.
Nigel looked at Scott, who looked fit to burst with suppressed secrets. “Scott figured it out.”
David looked at Scott. “OK, spill it.”
“The squidges,” he said. “I studied their distribution, and cross-checked with age analyses, and I noticed a pattern. I wasn’t sure at first, but once I’d checked the data from the other continents, it became clear.”
“What became clear?”
“They all originated from one point on each landmass. One point at the exact center of the continent, from which they radiated outwards. So, you see, this led to an obvious hypothesis.”
David raised his eyebrows.
“They’re not from here! Don’t you see? It couldn’t be clearer. They all arrived at one point, right in the center of each landmass. From there they migrated outwards, in exactly the pattern I found. They arrived, and shortly after, all native life forms disappeared.”
David nodded. “So you went looking for their ship.”
Scott nodded, smiling. “And we found it. You’re holding a piece of it.”
A moment ticked by as David processed this new information.
“So three ships –”
“At least,” Scott interjected. “Maybe more. We might find them on outlying islands, and in the oceans, too.”
“So alien ships landed here, carrying squidges. Then they released them, and they destroyed all life on this planet. Is that what you’re saying?”
Scott’s brows drew together. “Well … something like that. It’s not the whole story, though. There’s no native life left here so far as we can tell. Not even microbes. The squidges might have played a part, but something else happened as well, something that finished everything off.”
“The squidges – they were intelligent? They built ships?” David asked.
Scott looked at Josh, who replied. “That doesn’t seem likely – their brain cases are small, and they didn’t have hands for building sophisticated devices.”
“So someone or something else brought them here and let them loose.”
Josh nodded. “Perhaps – we don’t know. All we know is, they didn’t come from here.”
David frowned. He didn’t like the sound of this. Not one bit of it.
4
The sheet of paper rustled in Nigel’s right hand as he held it up. He glanced at Carla before concentrating on the words in front of him.
“Carla Anne Lewis, you are accused of the premeditated murder of Edward James Harper. How do you plead?”
Trial day had dawned as dark and stormy as the mood of the participants. None of the council wanted this. A murder trial in Haven seemed perverse, out of place.
Their courtroom was less formal than a typical courtroom would have been on Earth. The council sat at a long table at the far end of the pavilion. At one side stood small tables, one each for the prosecution and defense. Opposite them another small table and a chair provided a place for witnesses. Rows of seats set out opposite the council table formed the gallery, stretching back toward the main door of the pavilion.
Carla looked at the council, all of them poker-faced. Behind her, the people of Haven filled the pavilion.
She set her jaw and stared back at Nigel.
“Not guilty.”
A murmur from the gallery cut off as Nigel held up one hand.
“You have pleaded not guilty. The council will now hear arguments from the prosecution and the defense.”
They had debated long and hard how to conduct this trial. They had no official legal framework in place, let alone lawyers.
The status of Haven hadn’t changed since they’d first arrived. They had elected no governments, passed no laws. David commanded Haven under a structure owing more to military than civilian organization. He alone carried the authority to make decisions.
However, David had decided they would hear Carla’s case and let everyone observe the proceedings. Although they had not yet transitioned to civil law, he wanted to start the process by acting in good faith with Carla.
They hadn’t attempted to recreate a courtroom like those once found on Earth, but had adopted the same general principles. Each party would make their case and be judged on the evidence. The council would act as judge, jury, and executioner.
The first argument would be from the prosecution. They’d asked Sabine Pope to play the role of prosecutor. She’d suffered at the hands of Edward’s henchmen several months ago, when they’d assaulted her after she went to the aid of David’s daughter Joyce. She had no love for Carla.
Sabine stood and looked at Carla, mouth pinched. The drop of a pin would have echoed in the room.
“On June 20, 2126, the accused shot Edward Harper in the head, causing his death.” Her words sounded flat and emotionless. “Do you deny it?”
Carla raised her chin, eyes scanning the spectators before settling on Sabine.
“No.”
A sigh escaped the people seated in the gallery.
“You murdered him.”
Carla shook her head. “No.”
Sabine scowled. She tried anot
her tack. “We put forward the case that you perpetrated a calculated, premeditated act. The accused incited violent acts by the hired mercenaries Jacob Cooper and Roberto Sevos –”
“Irrelevant,” Carla said, interrupting.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m being judged on the murder of Edward Harper. Baseless accusations have no relevance.”
Sabine flushed. “I contend that –”
Carla turned toward David.
“I object.”
All eyes turned to him. David turned to Sabine. “Objection sustained. I’m sorry, Sabine, but we must stick to the accusation at hand.”
Sabine’s chin dipped and a hint of a smile played on Carla’s lips. She’d scored an early victory.
Sabine regathered her composure and started again. “Very well. We make the case that Carla Lewis planned to murder Edward Harper and took advantage of the conflict on the night of June 20 to execute this plan. I would like to call my first witness.” She turned to the gallery. “Simon Greene.”
Simon stood up from his seat in the front row and walked to the side of the council table. Taking the role of clerk, Nigel indicated a simple wooden chair and handed Simon a card. Sitting ramrod straight, Simon read its contents then repeated aloud: “I solemnly affirm the evidence I give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
He handed the card back to Nigel.
Sabine walked out onto the stage formed between Simon, the council table, and Carla.
“Simon, tell us what you saw in the pavilion the night Edward died.”
He cleared his throat and looked up at the council, then the gallery. He didn’t look at Carla.
“That night – Tobias and Raoul had gone with Edward and Carla to the pavilion. I think Edward intended to talk to everyone, to reassure them. Christian and I went to check what happened at the warehouse.”
“And what did you find?” Sabine asked.
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