Colony One (14 page)

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Authors: E. M. Peters

BOOK: Colony One
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Despite his reassuring words, there was an uneasy silence between the crew. Something wasn’t right, and the prevailing feeling was they were only going to uncover more horrors.

 

ɸ ɸ ɸ

 

Avery paced in her quarters, giving wayward glances to the glass tablet that lay on her desk. Her mind was abuzz with chaotic thought. She worked hard to consolidate the most pertinent thoughts: Why did Command encourage her to let the mission continue, especially if this is something they could have found? She was told, explicitly, that they would likely find nothing. Nothing she could have worked with. Now she had a whole boat full of eyewitnesses to…

Her thoughts trailed off. To what, she wondered? To some scientist’s back on Earth bad calculation? That thought calmed her. It was a fair mistake, wasn’t it? How much time and money had been put into studying the effects of pollution on Earth’s population, after all? None, because World Corp wouldn’t fund an endeavor like that. It might result in some problem solving other than getting off-world.

Colony Beta was probably still salvageable. Future colonies would probably just need to be sent with breathing aides until they were used to the different atmosphere. That was one of human’s best qualities, wasn’t it? Adaptation.

With that line of thought somewhat resolved, the Captain sat on her bunk and rubbed her face. There was still a significant question of what was coming. The thought ran in circles until Avery simply resolved to not think about it until there was something concrete to focus on.

From her bunk, her eyes focused on her glass tablet. There was a tiny booster box sitting next to it – a highly classified device that would allow her to communicate with Earth at this distance – at almost any distance of the traversable universe, in fact.

This would have been an excellent example of when she should have reported back in their findings but… she found herself hesitating. She had already settled her mind with what they had just found. It didn’t seem particularly pressing to report, so she could wait until they knew more to report bac
k.
Yes, she agreed with the compromise, and did not give any additional thought as to why she felt hesitation at sharing what they had found with command.

Somewhere in the dark corners of her mind, she knew full and well that she did not want to report anything that would result in an order to ‘pull the plug’ on the Hyperion operation. Not if she could avoid it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

14

 

 

Colony One, Mission Duration: Eight Months

 

 

At two months overdue for landfall, the delay escaped none of the passengers of Colony On
e.
After the first two weeks of rationing, hunger had become a constant companion to everyone aboard. After two months, there was a mixture of lethargy and aggression making its way through the ship.

Lucinda was experiencing lethargy as she lay motionless on her bunk. Demetri was at her side, trying to coax her into taking her supplements. “You need these,” he insisted, holding her hand.

She shook her head, “I want food.” She insisted. Dark circles persisted under her eyes and her cheeks had thinned out so her skin as a little tighter over her cheekbones. The defiance and fire that Demetri was so used to seeing light up her face was all but gone and he felt his chest tighten every time he noticed its absence.

Demetri was in love with Lucy. He wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened, only that it had. He hadn’t told her yet – he was too afraid that she might not return the sentiments, but he had planned to ask her to live with him when they made it to Colony Alpha. He would provide for her, take care of her, and she would be his rock, he had decided.

Seeing her this way was almost too much for him. He felt helpless.

“You need the supplements to keep you alive,” Demetri explained, though putting it so frankly upset him.

Lucy turned her head away so Demetri would not see the tear slip from the corner of her eye. She wanted to live, but life had become painful. She wanted to sleep. Even though the dull pain of hunger sometimes transcended sleep, it was still better than being awake. Seeing the desperation in Demetri’s eyes was heartbreaking. She wanted to be strong for him – and for her. She had never been a weak person. The frustration piled atop everything else made her feel like she was drowning.

Javier and Luca had done the math and determined the minimum amount of food everyone could technically live on, given that most people can go three weeks without food. They weren’t quite stretching it out that long, but if the journey continued much longer, they certainly would. Preference was given to the children, who could not go nearly as long as the adults without some sort of substance.

The liquid supplements, which there were an overabundance of, had become somewhat of a replacement for regular meals when the rationing prevented eating actual food. The supplements were enough to keep the body functioning without getting too weak, but the psychological effects of not eating – of not being able to feel full – were far greater than anyone had anticipated.

“I’m… I’m going to sleep for a while,” Lucy told Demetri, unable to look at him.

Demetri tried to mask his expression, trying to prevent his pain from coming to the surface. “Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep,” he told her.

She nodded weakly, gave his hand a squeeze and surrendered to the merciful darkness that was slumber. Demetri watched her for several minutes. The rest of the compartment was quiet with many others sleeping away the hunger and only a few shuffling around in an attempt to feel normal. When he was certain she was sleeping deeply enough, Demetri applied the syringe of supplements to her arm. She stirred only a little, making a soft whimpering noise, before turning on her side and curling up.

He let out a long breath through his nose at the noise she made. His eyebrows knit together and he stood with some resolve. His resolution was that he could not sit by and just watch for any longer. He had already gone to Javier several times asking for extra rations, but the man had stood firm and was always able to calm Demetri down. He would not go to Javier again, he decided. There were other ways to get what he needed, he thought, and turned to walk out of the compartment with considerable purpose.

 

ɸ ɸ ɸ

 

Even before the rationing had gone into effect, Ndale had been very careful about how he traded his goods. He was mindful of not letting on about exactly how much he had on board, and never traded too much with the same person.

When the rationing was announced, Ndale began trading immediately in large quantities and when the time was right, announced sorrowfully that he was completely sold out and could no longer trade food. He ate rationed freeze dried food with the rest of the crew and used the supplements with everyone else. No one ever saw him eating anything more than what he was given. He often acted as lethargic and hunger pained as the next passenge
r.
He felt like he had played his cards correctly in every way, which is why it came as a complete surprise that anyone would choose to confront him.

Ndale had been taking a walk along one of the many corridors of Colony One when a man several meters away had stepped into his path. Ndale’s walk slowed, then stopped when it looked like the man had no intention of moving. He turned to choose another way to his destination and found two different men blocking his way from the nearest cross section in passage ways.

The men walked toward him in unison, closing Ndale in. “Hello gentlemen,” he smiled weakly and ran a hand over his hair. He had started the journey with a shaved head, but now his black curly hair was grown out in all directions. “What can I help you with?” He asked and looked from face to face as they came closer. He only recognized one man who he had traded with before. His name was Adrian – a man with a faint eastern European accent. The other two he had never seen before.

Despite the thinner skin around their cheekbones and circles under their eyes, they looked relatively well-off considering how long rationing had been in place. Ndale immediately wondered if they had been stealing from other passengers – a practice of the strong taking from the weak he had seen often in South Africa.

“You can help us,” Adrian nodded, “By taking us to your stash.”

Ndale laughed, “There’s a mistake, then. I’ve already told you – and everyone else – I have no more food with me. I traded it all.”

“That’s bullshit,” one of Adrian’s companions spoke up. “You don’t seem to be hurting,” he said and jabbed Ndale in the stomach with a finger.

Ndale took a few steps back, putting him against the bulkhead with the three men surrounding him. “I don’t know who is giving you your information,” he said with a bite to his tone, “But perhaps you should go confront them because I cannot help you. I have nothing but blankets and trinkets that I received in trade.”

Adrian took a step closer to Ndale, crowding his space and put a hand against the bulkhead so he could lean in, “We don’t want to hurt you,” he spoke quietly into Ndales ear. “But we will if we have to.” He warned.

“I already told you…!” Ndale started but Adrian’s fist collided with his solar plexus, robbing him of the air he needed to finish his sentence. His first instinct was to double over, but Adrian took a handful of his shirt and shoved him upright against the wall.

“Where are you keeping the rest of the food?” He asked, exerting effort to keep his expression stony. He watched as Ndale gasped for air and felt guilt well up in him – he had not meant to hit him so high in the abdomen. Ndale had treated him well and taken trades that didn’t favor him so Adrian could have comfort items or a little bit of food from home. In a moment of weakness, he had mentioned to his friends that Ndale was probably holding out, and they immediately set out to confront the man.

He thought he could control the situation if he went with them. He was hoping Ndale would give up anything he had quickly – quicker than this, he thought.

Adrian shook Ndale once it seemed like he might be able to speak again, “Is your memory refreshed?” He asked.

“I have nothing,” Ndale sputtered, his eyes were watery from gasping for air.

Adrian narrowed his gaze at the man and used his free hand to take up two fistfuls of the man’s shirt, looking into his eyes. After a long moment, he released Ndale, who slumped against the bulkhead with considerable relief.

“He’s got to be telling the truth,” Adrian said with frustration and paced away.

To his surprise, his friends did not follow him.

“You didn’t give him enough incentive,” One of them said and before Adrian could protest, the man brought a fist down on Ndale’s cheekbone.

The world went dark for a moment and the next thing Ndale could register was being crumpled on the floor. He could hear voices, but they weren’t making any coherent sense to him. Pain exploded in his side as a kick landed against his ribs. As soon as he was able, he moved to cover his face and curl into the fetal position to avoid any more violent attacks.

“HEY!” A voice echoed off the walls of a corridor and was followed immediately by the sickening sound of bone crunching after being struck by metal.

From where he lay on the floor, Ndale squinted up through his forearms. A fourth man had arrived, and he was wielding a metal pipe. One of the men who attacked Ndale was holding his face, blood pouring through the slits in his fingers.

The uninjured assailant that Ndale didn’t know rushed the man with the pipe. The pipe was swung, but the attacker had anticipated it and pivoted out of the way. The man with the pipe was undeterred – he used his free hand to punch his attacker directly in the nose, which flattened him to the decking.

Adrian took a quick inventory of the scene and darted off at a sprint away from the man with the pipe. His friends, seeing they had lost the only help they might of have, hobbled off in the same direction. The man with the pipe chased them, swinging at them and yelling profanities in Spanish.

When the sounds of their running faded into the distance, the man dropped the pipe and moved to check on Ndale, who was still curled up on the floor.

“You’re alright,” the man said as Ndale flinched when he knelt next to him. “I’m a friend, not an enemy.” He was careful not to touch the man, instead he held out a hand, content to wait until he was ready to take it.

Ndale lowered his arms from his face tentatively. The punch he took to his cheek was throbbing – more so now that adrenaline was beginning to wear off. He put an elbow under himself so he could sit up slightly. His ribs protested as pain shot up his side and he couldn’t hide the wince.

“My name is Demetri,” he explained. “It’s probably a good thing I came looking for you.”

Ndale regarded the man suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Right now, it can wait.” Demetri said and emphasized his outstretched hand, “We should probably get a bio-freeze pack on your face.”

Ndale looked at Demetri’s hand, then to his face. Finally, he said, “Thank you,” and let Demetri help him stand. “Though, I don’t expect that will be the last attempt.” He said bitterly as he held his throbbing side.

“Sad, but true,” Demetri agreed and leaned down to pick up the pipe from where he had dropped it, “Sounds like you could use some protection.” He held the pipe like it was a baseball bat, “I was a star hitter on our neighborhood league back on Earth,” he shared and gave the pipe a powerful swing.

The sound it made cutting through the air was truly frightening. Ndale shuffled away from him on instinct, and then looked him up and down. Demetri did have a somewhat intimidating frame with his wide shoulders and large hands. “And what would you want in return?” Ndale asked.

Demetri put one end of the pipe on the floor and leaned against it like a cane. He fixed Ndale with a plain look, “I think you know what I would appreciate most.”

Ndale opened his mouth, and then closed it. He considered protesting the fact he had any food – he had told himself long ago he would need to keep up the façade completely in order to be able to survive the journey. What had just transpired, however, made him think twice about the strategy. More than ever, he needed friends he could trust. And trust was never better gained than when you controlled someone’s stomach. “What if I decline?” Ndale’s eyes flickered to the pipe – without saying as much, he wanted to know if Demetri would resort to violence like Adrian had.

“Then it will be your loss, but I won’t hold any grudges.” Demetri explained.

Ndale considered the proposition for a moment, and then finally nodded, “I fill your stomach, you make sure I don’t have any more unwelcome visits.”

“I’m not doing it for me,” Demetri admitted. “My…” he paused and settled on, “friend, she is not taking the rationing very well.”

Ndale’s eyebrows rose, “Ah, a lady friend. I see.” He smiled despite the pain and swelling in his left cheek. Gaining a man’s trust through his heart was even better than his stomach, he thought. He might let himself starve if things got too out of control, but he would not let his woman starve.

“Do we have a deal?” Demetri asked and held out his hand again.

“Yes, we have a deal,” Ndale took his hand and shook it firmly. “Follow me. I will give you something to bring to your lady friend – after you get me back to my bunk. I have to see a medic about a bio-freeze pack.”

Demetri grinned widely and helped Ndale down the corridor. They took so many twists and turns throughout the network of hallways, Demetri wasn’t sure if he would be able to navigate his way back to where they had come. Eventually, Ndale indicated they should stop. He took a moment to look around, and then crouched by the lower part of the bulkhead. He ripped off a panel and reached through it to retrieve a handful of items. Demetri stood diligently above him, listening to any unwanted footfalls. It was all quiet, and after a moment, Ndale was handing him something.

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