Second Chances (108 page)

------*------

When they came back from lunch they continued the territory debate. It was settled rather quickly for some people; they had only so many people and knew their land and its limits. Others snapped up territory like Dunn did, right to the borders of some of the other communities. It took hours of wrangling to get the nitty gritty details just right. Boring to those who didn't have a direct hand in a border dispute, but necessary for them to be in attendance for support of their friends and neighbors...or just to make sure they were in on any decisions.

Fortunately, it was all settled by the dinner bell. Anne chased them out, and they broke for the evening. After dinner she had some of the older teens escort delegates who were interested in a more extensive tour of the base. That sparked interest in various projects.

“I'm betting a lot of those will turn up on their wish lists,” Anne said with a sniff to Mitch. He shrugged it off.

“If they do, they do. They'll have to find a way to pay for it,” he said. She nodded.

------*------

To Mitch's surprise, there was renewed interest in a constitutional convention the next morning. They took that morning and afternoon to work on that project, drafting an outline of a constitution based on the American constitution. It wasn't popular in some quarters, but all accepted that it was a work in progress.

Each delegate took a turn with their requests. Now that they had had a chance to tour the base and speak with the others, many wanted increased trade with Capital and the other communities. Jack and Mike found themselves to be popular as well, if only for the metals their communities mined.

Weapons and ammunition were also a top ten request, as were vehicles, medical supplies, and supplies of Terran seeds and animals.

The Jamaican woman stood and took her turn. “In light of the devastating plague and the burden of repaying our debt, it is in everyone's best interest if we receive help. Aide, aide in whatever form you can supply to help our children in our hour of need.” She turned, looking hopefully to each of the delegates. “We have limited manpower. We need help,” she said.

“So do we,” Yuri rumbled. “We are all limited on people and what we can do. We do what we can. You do the same. Do what you can with what you've got,” he said.

Mitch winced mentally as the woman scowled and then took her seat once more. It was apparent when no one volunteered that no one, not even the good colonel was willing to donate to them with their track record. He was pretty sure a few would try to lean on him to be the bigger man and do it, but he didn't volunteer anything either.

Chapter 48

While the delegates met, Toki Oshiwa worked with samples the Jamaican woman had thoughtfully brought along with her to create a testing method for tropic infestation. Burning swaths of land around their plantations and killing the plant on sight was the only way to ensure no one addicted to it got a hold of it.

According to Doctor Pierre, a few people either ate something that killed the xenoform, or they had somehow avoided infestation. Two people had gone back to eating the fruit after being treated and had been infested once more. They were nearly out of the medication Angie had delivered.

Sandra immediately issued orders to Dora and the computer to manufacture more medication. Dajanah Zu over at East Village expressed an interest in the base's pharmacy. She got the okay to come by and spend some time helping out in exchange for equipment and supplies for her own small pharmacy.

The doctors held their own radio conference to deal with various problems and ailments, not just for the parasite but for other ailments concerning other communities. They also discussed native grown treatments and their effectiveness. John's crew pointed out the medicinal value of gas polyps. Interest sparked in a few of the medics. Doctor Brown and Doctor Orlin insisted the liquid was a very effective antiseptic.

When the leader of the Tropic Village found out more medication and equipment was going to be flown to her community she met with Angie once someone pointed the teen out to her. “Do you know where you are going?”

“I've been there before,” Angie said. “You are Miss Powell?” The other woman nodded.

“Kquewanda Powell. My son was Tariq,” she said, eying the teenager. She bluntly asked the pilot why she had dropped her last cargo and left so abruptly.

“Cause you were bloody charging me with guns and looking like you were going to shoot me!” Angie snarled, not ready to fall for any sort of guilt trip the lady was trying to pull. If she wanted her meds delivered on time, she'd drop that sort of crap. “I got the hell out of there.”

The woman frowned. “I see.”

“Hell lady, I'm sorry, but I ain't taking any chances. No one
trusts
you. You proved that.”

“I see.” the woman said again with a brittle tone. “I didn't make the deal Trinika did. She's dead.”

“Trust has to be earned like Mitch said. Once you betray a trust, it's damn hard to rebuild it. It takes a long time,” the pilot said shaking her head, “and a lot of patience and good faith.”

“I agree. But, my people weren't going to harm you.”

“Oh? Just take my plane? Hold me hostage?”

The other woman shook her head. “Not even that, though I admit there were a few who suggested it. No, many wanted to go with you.”

“Ah,” the pilot said, nodding. “Then it's just as well I took off. I barely made it back to Dunn's place. I had to cut the engine a few times and coast on thermals. I'm glad I had a tail wind,” she said, shaking her head. “It was freaky. I barely made it back at all.”

“I see,” the Jamaican woman said. “I don't believe anyone thought of the fuel situation. They saw an opportunity to flee and wanted to take it,” she said slowly. She turned, looking to the horizon.

“Is it really bad there? I mean, I saw some of it...” Angie said, doubt creeping into her voice.

The chocolate colored woman heaved a heavy sigh. “The problem is we lack material. We have some but...we came poor, from poor countries. Those from Haiti had only the clothes on their backs. Some had no shoes!” She looked away. “Many have died. We're down to sixty people including the small children. Not enough.” She looked around. “When I see what you have here...so rich...”

“It...okay, yes, Mitch had deep pockets, and yeah, he planned for this. He threw most of his money at coming here and setting up. But that was only half of it. He's busted his balls to put it together. The same goes for us. We're all working flat out to keep it up and keep growing.”

“So much...” the other woman whispered, face troubled. “But I heard you have terrible winters here,” she said, turning to the pilot.

Angie nodded. “And I heard you don't have much snow in the south,” she said. The other woman nodded. “We have it above our heads here,” she said waving a hand a hand as high as it could go above her head. The Jamaican's eyes widened. The pilot nodded. “Yeah, it's that deep, no kidding. We can do very little in the winter, just wait it out and do stuff inside. It's hard. If you don't have the food or power, you ration what you've got or starve. I'm glad we are where we're at.”

“I see.”

“Have you used what Mitch has sent you?”

“That man!” The woman said, eyes flashing. She turned her head and spat, angry. “His idea of charity...”

“Hey lady, don't go looking a gift horse in the mouth,” the pilot warned. “Mitch has done a lot for everyone. The survival kits he handed out before we left alone were a godsend!” She shook her head. “I don't know how many of us survived with them...and if we could have survived
without
them.”

The Jamaican frowned thoughtfully. “He has helped with the information too I suppose.”

“Yes. Yes he has.”

“We don't have enough people to plant or manage what we have. There has been discussion about abandoning our place and going elsewhere. Joining with others...if they'll have us. I've spoken with the nearest communities. All say no.”

The pilot raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Even Dunn?”

“Yes, even him,” the woman said, making a face. “I...I and Trinika should never have listened to him. He...” she shook her head, fighting the impulse to come clean. “Now, as you said, trust. Everyone is in trouble, except here. And yet you won't take us in.”

The pilot winced. “Look, I'll....” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I'll see if I can get down there with a load of stuff. I'm not making any promises...,” she held up a warning finger.

The other woman nodded, nearly in tears. “Thank you.”

“Thank Mitch too. I know it's like pulling teeth but make up with the guy. Look, I know you don't want to hear some unsolicited advice, but...here goes,” she sighed. “Don't whine, explain the situation as calmly as you can, then ask his advice. Apologize. You might be surprised what you get from him,” she said. The other woman opened her mouth to object, and the pilot held up a restraining hand. “Let me finish. You may not get much, just advice, but it is a start. Get the doors of communication back open. We can't afford to let people die over pride. We have to work together. But we also need to work. And trust,” she said.

The other woman stared into her eyes for a long moment then nodded.

“As far as shoes...well, you need to talk to Colonel Dunn. He's making that stuff now. We aren't,” she said. The woman blinked at her. Angie nodded. “He's got the surplus meat and leather. He's closer to you, and he's not lifting a finger to help you. He set you up. Think about that. Think hard,” she said.

The Jamaican stared at her. She realized it was obvious to a lot of people or at least to the pilot that she'd been played by the colonel. That bothered her almost as much as what he'd done. She stared for a long uncomfortable moment and then slowly looked away. After a moment she gave a slight second nod. Then she walked off.

The pilot's shoulders slumped. “Few! I'll take a turbulent flight any day than getting caught up in this feud. Me and my big yap,” she grumbled to herself as she walked to the airstrip.

------*------

“Now what, another conference?” Colonel Dunn said tiredly. “Seriously, all these damn meetings are getting old,” he said, sounding disgusted with all the meetings. That was odd to Mitch. An officer should be used to meetings he thought. The higher up one went the more meetings they had. Or so Bob had told him. He made a mental note to talk to the military experts about it. Something just wasn't right about Dunn. It was time he found out what.

“Getting everyone on the same page is important. Most of the time we can do that by giving everyone the same information then building off that in the meetings, answering questions or coming up with ones we need to ask,” Mitch explained patiently. He rubbed his back. “But yeah, I agree, it gets tiring after a while.” It was a tentative moment of truce and agreement between the two of them.

“Better than being out in the bush getting hunted by a raptor pack,” the colonel said. “But you do this all day?”

“No, but it just seems that way,” Mitch laughed. “There is so much to learn!” he said spreading his hands. He smiled as his wife came into the room. She smiled back, then leaned over to kiss him.

The colonel looked away politely. When he looked back Mitch was practically grinning at his wife. “Oh, get a room,” he growled. Mitch had the grace to blush slightly. “I had some questions for you, ma'am. About us humans...”

Sandra giggled as she sat down. “So, the human body...” she said teasingly.

“Oh please, spare me a discussion on the birds and the bees,” Mitch mock moaned. She smacked him on the shoulder. “Okay, could be fun if it comes with slide shows,” he said, eyes twinkling. It was her turn to blush.

“You'll pay for that bub,” she growled, glowering at him. His smile widened. She shook her head slowly then turned to ignore him. He kept looking at her though, and he caught her looking back out of the corner of her eye. There was just the hint of a blush in her complexion to let him know he wasn't quite ready to let her off the hook.

“Ahem, humans. I asked about the evolution thing, I don't get it. The lecture? And can we use small words?” the colonel asked. “Not all of us went to college,” he said.

Mitch frowned at that admission. Again, something teased at the back of his mind, something about officers and college. He made another mental note.

Doc looked over to him and then settled herself, adjusting her skirt and then crossing her legs. “Okay, what do you want to know first?”

“How did the aliens find us?” the colonel asked. “I mean, individually. How can they tell us apart? Look, I've got a woman, Moira, who was in Ireland when she was first contacted. She moved to California to get away from the aliens and they still found her.”

“Okay...” Sandra said thoughtfully. “I'd say that if they can come thousands of light years they can find someone easily I guess.” She shrugged.

“Even though finding one person in what, seven billion?” the colonel asked doggedly. “That's a big haystack,” he said.

Mitch looked from the officer to his wife with interest. Perhaps he did have something to learn from the good colonel after all.