T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion (32 page)

“Fine, I will let you know my decision after I watch your video. Fortune out.”

The hologram image vanished, but the tension between the two captains lingered. Around the bridge, crew members concentrated on their instruments, avoiding eye contact with their commanding officer. 

“Well, that didn't go quite as well as we hoped,” Beth commented dryly. She had been standing near the Captain, just out of video pickup range, during the call. She knew her husband well and had learned that dry sarcasm appealed to his better nature, even when beset by disappointment. 

“That man is as stubborn as a mule,” Billy Ray finally said, silent rage dissipating. “Mr. Lewis, what is our ETA for Paradise orbit?” 

“A bit over four hours, Sir.” 

“Very well. You have the Conn, Mr. Lewis. The First Officer and I will be in the CIC.” 

“Aye, aye, Sir. I have the Conn.” 

Bridge, ESS Fortune

Sid was in a funk, brought on by indecision. On one hand, he was outraged at the highhanded actions of the merchant captain, practically ordering him to evacuate the settlements that had taken several months to establish. On the other hand, he had watched the second video recording Capt. Vincent had sent him and it scared the devil out of him.

If the video was to be believed, this planet used to have a civilization as advanced as Earth's before the alien bombardment. Cities and towns and farms spread across all the major continents. That civilization was destroyed in the matter of a few days, assuming that the video was not a deception concocted by the merchants to have Paradise to themselves.

Why didn't they just tell us to bugger off when we arrived?
Sid asked himself.
Surely that would have been easier than trying to uproot the settlers now.
 

Maybe Vincent was telling the truth. Maybe they didn't know the danger existed, or maybe they needed more time to manufacture evidence of a threat. Regardless, Sid doubted that the colonists would voluntarily return to the ship. He could just take Fortune and run for home, letting the merchants handle the situation—but that would be the coward's way out. He had a responsibility toward the settlers, even if they were no longer on board his ship.

No matter, his options were limited. The Peggy Sue was rapidly approaching orbit around Paradise. The rumors about that ship were undeniably true. It was slowing at over 60Gs and had been for several days. Nothing short of a Navy warship could maintain that sort of acceleration. This made it easy to believe the other rumors, which said the Peggy Sue mounted enough offensive weaponry to go toe to toe with a cruiser. That ship, far from being a merchant vessel or a rich man's play toy, was actually a pocket battle ship. 

Since Fortune mounted no offensive weapons and only enough shielding to protect against random space debris, there was no possibility of armed resistance to the merchant captain's will. The best Sid could do was threaten to report his actions to the authorities back at Farside. Of course, the people behind the Orion Arm Trading Company pretty much were the authorities back home. 

Earth was almost destroyed, humanity was almost eradicated by hostile aliens, and now we are rebuilding our civilization,
Sid thought.
Yet the rich are still in charge and the poor have to be happy with the scraps from their tables. They give these poor colonists a new planet and then decide to snatch it back on a merchant captain's whim. Everything has changed but everything still remains the same.
 

The injustice of life gnawed at Sid, but in the back of his mind a small voice kept nagging him:
What if Vincent is telling the truth?
If he was anything, Sid was over cautious. That was one of the reasons he had been chosen to captain this first colonization mission. He placed the delayed warning call to Frank Hoenig aboard Shuttle B, on its way to Zion.

Shuttle B, Inbound to Zion

The three settlements were spaced nearly equidistant around Paradise, each on its own continent. It was the wee hours of the morning in New Mecca and the sun had set in New Jerusalem. The day was half spent in Zion, the settlement belonging to Brother Abraham and his flock of fundamentalists. Shuttle B was flying out of the night, descending into the new dawn with ten thousand kilometers yet to go. 

“Shuttle Bravo, Fortune, come in please.” 

“Now what?” mumbled Frank, seated in the pilot's chair. Keying the talk button he replied, “Fortune, this is Shuttle Bravo on approach to Zion, I read you five by five, over.” 

“Shuttle Bravo, please be advised that we have received warnings regarding possible hostile native life on Paradise. Please keep a lookout for any suspicious activity when you are on the planet.” 

“Really? We've been messing around on the surface for two months now and haven't seen anything in the way of indigenous life. I thought the OATC types said the planet was totally dead.” 

“The captain of the Peggy Sue has informed me that the soil harbors some kind of inimical life form that manifests as a moving mass of black threads.” 

“Say again, Fortune. Did you say a mass of black threads?” 

“Roger, Shuttle Bravo. I have been assured by the merchants that the threat is capable of rapid movement and is deadly to unprotected life. If you see anything remotely fitting that description you are to take off immediately. Do you copy?” 

“Roger that, Fortune.” 

“Furthermore, I want you to stay on board while you are on the ground. I don't want both of you off the shuttle at the same time.” 

“Affirmative, Fortune. I am to stay with the shuttle at all times.”
Good,
thought Frank,
Leon will have to manage the unloading all by himself.
Another thought occurred to the pilot. 

“Interrogative, should we inform the colonists of the threat?” 

There was a pause.

“Negative, Shuttle Bravo. There may be no actual threat, so let's not start a panic. Still, we need to err on the side of caution so keep an eye pealed.”

“Roger, Fortune. We will call in when we are on the ground. Shuttle Bravo out.”

“What was that all about?” asked the crewman named Leon, leaning in the doorway from the passenger compartment. 

“Just the Captain with some wild assed rumor that there is a dangerous outbreak of black threads down on the planet.” 

“What?” 

“Hey, I'm not making this stuff up. You ask me, the Old Man is going space happy, stuck up there on the ship.” 

“Jeez, I hope he stays sane enough to get us back to Earth.” 

“Trust me, the return course is already programmed into the main computer. Even if the Captain goes around the bend we can still order the computer to take us home. Now get ready for atmospheric entry in ten minutes.” 

The Hills Above New Mecca

Shadi spent a restless night, laying out beneath the stars with her sister and their sheep. Though she was loath to admit it, Ahmed's visit the previous afternoon had unnerved her. With every stirring of the sheep, every rustle of breeze through the grass, she awoke, fearing strangers were approaching their resting place. As a result, she was sore and unrested after the long dark night. 

Dorri had no such problem—after a tiring day walking with the herd in the sun and wind she slept soundly. Her sister admired the way she could ignore problems that loomed in the future and simply enjoy the moment. Now, with the first glimmer of sunrise gilding the horizon, the girls arose as the faint cry of the muezzin came to them across the grassland.

After landing on Paradise, there had been a lot of discussion as to which direction the faithful should face to pray. Eventually the Imam decreed that they would place their copy of the Holy Koran in the east wall of the new mosque and the congregation would face east while praying. Those outside of the mosque were to face the mosque itself at the appointed times for prayer.

The girls oriented their sleeping pads toward the settlement and performed their morning
salat
. Though their upbringing had not been particularly religious, prayer was a familiar and comforting ritual that reminded both girls of home. Other than each other, it was one of the last links to their life on Earth, a life that seemed more and more like a dream as the days passed. 

Prayer complete, looking down slope toward the settlement offered Shadi a view that would remain in her memory forever. The rising sun painted the buildings of New Mecca rose red, while they cast long shadows to the west. Stray breezes caused ripples in the green fields that tumbled gently down the slope to the village and the river beyond.

“I don't see Ahmed on his horse this morning, coming to check up on us again,” said Dorri with a crooked smile. 

“Hopefully he is back in town, nursing saddle sores,” sniffed Shadi, causing Dorri to giggle.
Oh sister! Stay a young girl the next few days, before we both have to become women and take up a wife's burdens. How can this be the will of Allah?
 

“Why the serious look, sister?” asked Dorri.

“Just considering how far we must drive the sheep to get them back to the sheepfold, little star.”

“We don't have to start back today, do we?” There was an edge of panic in Dorri's voice.

“No, no. We can wait until tomorrow to head back down the slope. Today we can move along the edge of the grass, just below the rocky hills.”

“Good, I want this trip to last as long as possible, forever even. I don't ever want to go back.”

“Look out over the grasslands, Dorri, and hold this picture in your heart. In the future, when things seem darkest, think back to the two of us standing on this hillside watching the sun rise.”

Dorri said nothing, but a single tear ran down her cheek. She took her sister's hand and the two of them stood silently until the bleating of the flock broke the trance.

* * * * *

Kilometers to the south and east of New Mecca, near where Ahmed and the roan mare met their demise, there was a stirring along the river bank. Hardly noticeable at first, a few sparse strands of grass that had encroached on the river's meandering path, withered and died.

Having lain dormant for centuries, the black spores, all that was left of the contagion that had killed this world, were awakened by the presence of life itself. It was the runoff from the grassland, carried down stream by the nearly daily rains, which summoned the blackness from underground.

Mindless. Voracious. It existed only to destroy all living things. Trace molecules in the water called it back, to feed once more. Only after the planet was barren would it again go dormant, again fall into deathless sleep. 

Chapter 22

Captain's Sea Cabin, Peggy Sue

The ship's officers and senior NCOs were crowded into the Captain's sea cabin just off the bridge. The purpose of the gathering was to lay out a plan of action for when the Peggy Sue made orbit around Paradise. Whatever the Captain decided, the Gunny and Chief Zackly would pass the word to the Marines and crew once the meeting broke up. Looking up from the surface display in his desk, Billy Ray made eye contact with the others, bringing an anxious quiet to the room. 

“Captain Chakrabarti still isn't buyin' our warning about the black goo and refuses to order an evacuation of the surface.” 

“That seems most unwise, Captain,” said Mizuki. 

“Agreed, Dr. Ogawa. According to Chakrabarti, one of Fortune's shuttles is on its way to Zion and another is on the ground at New Jerusalem. Somewhat ominously, the New Jerusalem boat has been out of radio contact for almost ten hours.”

“Do you think that they have already been attacked?” asked Bobby. 

“I don't know, pardner. We'll know once a surveillance satellite passes overhead after local dawn. Since Chakrabarti refuses to send another shuttle to the surface, I'm going to have First Officer Melaku and some of the Marines take Shuttle One down to the third settlement, New Mecca.”

“Do you want the whole squad, Captain?” asked the Gunny. 

“No, I want Umky to stay here to man the central fire control station. But take the rest of the squad, in full armor.” 

“Aye, aye, Sir.” 

“Captain, Beth shouldn't pilot the shuttle,” said Bobby. 

Beth turned her head to glare at Bobby, thinking he was insulting her piloting skills. Billy Ray raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“The First Officer is going to be busy when the shuttle gets to the surface, handling the refugees or whatever. Given how fast this black stuff seems to move there needs to be a pilot at the controls the entire time the shuttle is on the ground, ready to lift off at the first sign of a threat.”

Beth relaxed and Billy Ray nodded slowly in agreement.

“The Sailing Master makes a good case, Captain,” Beth conceded. 

“I take it you have an opinion as to who that pilot should be, Bobby?”