Citadel: First Colony (18 page)

Billy turned in his chair, “Yes, sir?”

“I have a difficulty that I need to address. It’s a sensitive matter for me, and it may be something that you and the others will not fully understand. You know that my people have a botanical component to our genome?”

Billy blinked. “Plants?” he supplied.

Somar smiled lightly. “Yes, plants. My people are plant-like in many ways. And as such, some of our biological needs are different than those of humans.”

Bill was listening, warily.

“Our water intake, in particular, is different. I can drink water, just as you do. But every so often, I must submerge myself in a great quantity of water in order for my cells to be fully replenished.”

Billy seemed confused, “You have to take a bath?”

“Of sorts. On my world, we have vessels full of purified water that we use for this process. But here, I would have to make due with a natural source, such as the river west of here.”

Billy seemed to understand. “You need to go to the river and soak in it?”

“Yes, that’s correct. However, I’m afraid that the others may not understand this need. They are short on water. The rationing has helped, but they are thirsty and the supply is dwindling. That is why I want to organize a team to go to the river and bring water back to Citadel. However, while we are there ... ” he let the issue hang.

“You need to soak in the river, so that you have enough water, too,” Billy said, picking up the thread of the conversation.

“Yes, that is exactly right,” Somar smiled. “So you do understand?”

“Yes,” Billy answered. There was a flash of something in his eyes that Somar didn’t understand. Had he been somehow offended by this conversation? Somar knew that there were certain subjects that were taboo among the humans. Sex, for one, was something Somar found most humans were unwilling to discuss except in the most vulgar ways used by some of the Blue Collar crew. Biological functions such as the excretion of waste were also off-the-table topics. Perhaps this fit in that category somehow? It was, after all, a biological need.

“I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable, Mr. Sans.”

Billy blinked again. “Huh?”

“You seem to be experiencing some discomfort about this conversation. I regret that it is necessary.”

Billy smiled and laughed lightly. “No, Sir. I’m not uncomfortable. I just ... I was remembering something someone told me. It’s nothing.”

Somar nodded. “Very well. Then if you do not mind, I would like you to accompany me as my second in command on this mission. You will assume authority over the group while I am immersing myself. I will be incapacitated for some time while my body replenishes its water supply, and so it will be up to you to lead the workers and keep them on task.”

Billy’s eyes widened slightly. “Me? In
charge
?”

“Of course. I can think of no one better suited for the job. You have proven yourself to be diligent and capable.”

Billy’s expression changed then—in fact, it fairly undulated as some unexpressed emotions played themselves out within him. Finally, his features stabilized, and his expression was one of resolve, unaffected by emotion. “Thank you, sir. No one’s ever put me in charge before.”

Somar nodded respectfully and returned to his own work.

Billy
didn’t really get the alien.
A few hours after he’d come in from his talk with Jack, Somar said, “We are finished with a day’s work. The night is upon us, and it is time for us both to rest. Return to your bunk, and tomorrow we will lead an expedition for water.”

Somar was like that. Everything he said was so ...
large
. Not that he used too many words or anything, it was more like everything he said had some meaning beyond what he was saying. It was like hearing a song but not quite catching the words, so you knew there was something else to it. And when you listened to it again, or thought about it later, you picked up more than you did the first time around.

And it was that kind of thing that was bugging Billy Sans. Because he was starting to realize that the rude, arrogant, smug leaf-brain was actually a decent guy who just came from a different way of life.

Billy had to admit, though, that he had been somewhat swayed by Somar’s sudden bout of confidence in him. He had come back to the command post this afternoon, even though his duty shift was over, so that he could start his
real
work right away. His work for Jack.

He had been sure it was the right thing to do ... to approach Jack and offer to help him with his mutiny. The Captain was a mean and rude leaf-brain at the time, not just someone from a different culture with a different way of life. And Billy had been on board with overthrowing him as the unlikely leader of the group of humans who had managed to survive crashing into this planet. But kill him? Billy had never wanted to kill anyone. When Jack had told him that, he hadn’t really wanted to be a part of the mutiny anymore.

Before returning to the command post, he had convinced himself that Jack knew better than him what should be done about the leaf-brain. He had convinced himself that even if they killed Somar, he would not be the one doing it. It would be Jack and his crew.

But I’m one of his crew,
Billy thought.
I joined his crew.

Billy shook himself. A few kind words and a position of honor, was that Billy’s price? Was that all it took to get him to betray his own kind? Somar wasn’t human. He was an Esool—the aliens that, until recently, had been at war with humanity. Hell, if Jack was right, Somar might even be the reason they were all stuck on this planet. He might be the reason some of the crew and colonists were dead and some were hurt badly.

Maybe he was even the reason they couldn’t reach Captain Alonzo on the orbital platform, even though the communication system was working.

It had taken only a few minutes to walk from the command center to the makeshift shelter where Jack and his crew were bunking. The night was very dark because of the trees surrounding them. The only lights Billy could see were the campfires dotting here and there around the clearing and the weirdly stationary points of light that were the stars in the unmoving sky overhead. The moon hadn’t managed to peek over the treetops yet.

Billy stepped to the entrance of Jack’s shelter. “Jack?” he called quietly.

Jack stepped out of the shelter and into the dim and inadequate light outside. Billy couldn’t make out his features very well. He couldn’t really see his face. In the darkness he could be anyone, even a slightly green-skinned Esool who had to soak in a tub of water every so often. Billy shook his head.

“What is it?” Jack hissed.

“Tomorrow,” Billy said, “he’s taking a team to the river, West of here. He’ll be alone and vulnerable for a while.”

Did Jack smile? He might have. Billy wasn’t sure. “Good work,” Jack said, and there was definitely a smile in his voice. There was the sound of pride.

For some reason, it made Billy feel like throwing up.

Billy turned and walked away without another word. He couldn’t have said anything anyway because the quiet sobbing wouldn’t have let his voice pass.

P
enny
was the biggest pain in the neck that Thomas had ever known.
He still felt there was more to her than the manicured nails and designer clothes, but some of that “more” included a snotty attitude and a sense of imperialism. On the morning after their first night on the path to the wreckage, Thomas awoke to find Penny in a snit.

“What do you mean
there’s no coffee
!” she fairly screamed.

Reilly was awake and had already broken camp. Except for Thomas’s sleeping bundle, everything was packed and ready to go. He rose from the ground, stiff and hurting in places he’d never felt before. “Morning,” he said sleepily, blinking at the light of dawn.

“It’s about time you got up!” Penny yelled at him. “Did you know we don’t have coffee? What kind of hike is this?”

Thomas managed to stand without losing too much dignity and rolled up his sleeping bundle, attaching it to the top of his pack. “It’s the kind where we have only limited resources and a job to do.”

“How can you expect me to wake up without coffee?” Penny asked.

Thomas shrugged. “Open your eyes and keep them that way?”

Reilly took up the taunt. “How about closing your mouth and keeping it
that
way,” she offered.

Penny looked at both of them and then screamed. It was the kind of scream people made when they were dying, and she was making it over a cup of coffee that hadn’t materialized on demand. “You people are
so sued
when we get back to civilization!”

Reilly blinked, then turned to Thomas and said, “Do we really need the princess with us?”

Thomas shrugged, “Extra set of hands. But I’m starting to wonder if that’s worth it.”

“You both think you’re funny, but all you are is a couple of low, useless ...
Blue Collars!
”

Reilly bristled at that and started step into the girl. Thomas managed to put a hand on her arm to hold her back. “Now, just wait,” he said to her. “Remember, Her Majesty hasn’t had her royal coffee yet.”

Reilly couldn’t help herself, she first smiled then laughed loudly.

“Stop saying that!” Penny said. “I’m not a princess!”

“Then stop trying to rule us, and let’s get going,” Thomas replied.

With a huff and without waiting, she plowed ahead.

Reilly stood for a moment watching her go, then rubbed her eyes. “Are we going to have to deal with this the whole time?”

“God, I hope not. But I have to say, I could use a cup of coffee myself.”

Reilly looked up to see that Penny was a good distance away, then handed him a thermos. “I made it this morning,” she said. “Before she got up.”

“You hid it from her?” Thomas asked. He was pouring coffee into the tin cap.

“Well, I wasn’t going to,” she said. “But the first thing she did when she woke up was say, ‘I’m awake. Make me coffee.’ I suddenly forgot we had any.”

“Not nice,” Thomas said sipping the still-hot beverage and savoring the sharp, roasted taste of it. 

Reilly smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “Not nice at all.”

The
wreckage had loomed over them all morning
, and now they were finding that it was finally seeming to get closer as they moved. Thomas could see the outlines of creases in the metal where it had been twisted and mutilated by the crash. It made him shudder, and he was glad that neither Reilly nor Penny noticed.

This wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned. Or
hoped
, anyway. Could he really say he had a plan, after all of this?

A conversation from a hundred years ago echoed in his mind as they walked. Thomas had struggled continuously to keep his memories at bay, to somehow will them out of existence. But the hike to the distant wreckage didn’t require much concentration, and the conversation had lulled between the three of them. Each step Thomas took now was a melodic rhythm that hypnotized him slightly, causing his mind to wander. And, because his memories weren’t all that buried and were certainly younger than the hundred years or so since that conversation, he remembered it clearly.

He was standing in an open field with two guards at only a slight distance from him. They were far enough away that they couldn’t hear the conversation but close enough that, if need be, they could put several bullets into his back. That would be the price of trying to run, he knew. Several pieces of lead, hurled toward him via one of the most primitive forms of propulsion, striking him in red blooms, ending his life.

“Paris,” the man standing before him had said. “John Thomas Paris.”

It would be a hundred years before he would go simply by the name of Thomas. It would be out of necessity, because his birth name would come to mean something wretched and horrific. He would eventually be known as one of history’s greatest villains. Hitler? Stalin? Bin Laden? Who are they? He was John Thomas Paris ...

“The bastard who killed an entire world,” the man said.

“To be fair,” Paris replied, “it was a colony. They hadn’t actually reached a world yet.”

There was no sense denying the outrageous accusations this man made. Paris had been tried and convicted of the crime. He hadn’t been allowed to speak at his own trial. He’d been escorted by a platoon of Marines to and from the court until finally that too had become too risky, and he was then tried in the comfort of his cell. He had watched as he was sentenced on a live television feed.

“You are the most hated man in all the world,” the man said. He was smiling. “Hell, you may go down in history as the worst humanity ever had to offer.”

He had no way of knowing, he’d be right
, Thomas thought to himself a hundred years later.
How could he have known?

“You’ve taken me out of my hole,” Paris said. “Are you planning on finally executing me?”

“Would we go to that much trouble? It’d be a lot easier to let one of the other prisoners discover that you’re alone in the shower. One roofing nail later, and we no longer have a problem.”

Paris nodded. The man had something on his mind, but he wasn’t spitting it out. Maybe he expected Paris to protest. Maybe he thought he could get Paris to beg for his life. But he’d already begged for his life and lost. He’d already fought hard to prove he wasn’t the psychotic murderer everyone thought he was. He had already gone way past the point where he could fight what was happening to him. He was helpless.

As helpless as the two hundred thousand men, women, and children who had died fiery, screaming deaths as the Earth’s first colony ship exploded—an act of terrorism so profound as to alter all of human history forever. Though Paris would not know that until he was Thomas, more than a century later.

“Don’t you wonder who I am?” the man asked him. He seemed genuinely curious.

“Not really,” Paris shrugged. “You have some kind of authority, or you wouldn’t have been able to pull me out of maximum security. And you’re not afraid of me, because you have two guards who could snap my neck with their bare hands.”