The Last Colony Page 9

  The table erupted into chaos.

  Jane and I sat on either ends, waiting for the fracas to calm. It took a few minutes.

  “That’s insane,” said Marie Black.

  “I agree entirely,” I said. “But every time there’s a contact between Roanoke and any other colony world, it leaves a trail back to us. Spaceships have crews that number in the hundreds. It’s not realistic that none of those would talk to friends or spouses. And you all already know that people will be looking for us. Your former governments and your families and the press will all be looking for someone who can give them a clue to where we are. If anyone can point a finger back to us, this Conclave will find us.”

  “What about the Magellan?” asked Lee Chen. “It’s going back.”

  “Actually, no, it’s not,” I said. This news received a low gasp. I remembered the absolute fury in Captain Zane’s face when Stross told him this bit of information. Zane threatened to disobey the order; Stross reminded him he had no control over the ships engines, and that if he and the crew didn’t head to the surface with the rest of the colonists, they’d discover they had no control over life support, either. It was a fairly ugly moment.

  It got worse when Stross told Zane the plan was to get rid of the Magellan by driving it right into the sun.

  “The crew of the Magellan have families back in the CU,” said Hiram Yoder. “Spouses. Children.”

  “They do,” I said. “That will give you an idea how serious this is.”

  “Can we afford them?” asked Manfred Trujillo. “I’m not saying we refuse them. But the colony stores were meant for twenty-five hundred colonists. Now we’re adding, what, another two hundred?”

  “Two hundred and six,” said Jane. “It’s not a problem. We shipped with half again as much food stores as are usual for a colony this size, and this world has plant and animal life we can eat. Hopefully.”

  “How long will this isolation continue?” asked Black.

  “Indefinitely,” I said. Another grumble. “Our survival depends on isolation. It’s just that simple. But in some ways that makes things easier. Seed colonies have to prepare for the next wave of colonists two or three years down the line. We don’t have to worry about that now. We can focus on what our needs are. That’ll make a difference.”

  There was glum agreement to this. For the moment that was the best I could hope for.

  “Point two,” I said, and tensed up for the backlash. “No use of technology that can give away the existence of our colony from space.”

  This time they didn’t calm down after a few minutes.

  “That’s utterly ridiculous,” said Paulo Gutierrez, eventually. “Anything that has a wireless connection is potentially detectible. All you have to do is sweep with a broad-spectrum signal. It’ll try to connect with anything and tell you what it finds.”

  “I understand that,” I said.

  “Our entire technology is wireless,” Gutierrez said. He held up his PDA. “Look at this. Not a single goddamned wired input. You couldn’t connect a wire to it if you tried. All our automated equipment in the cargo hold is wireless.”

  “Forget the equipment,” said Lee Chen. “All of my colonists are carrying an implanted locator.”

  “So are mine,” said Marta Piro. “And they don’t have an off switch.”

  “You’re going to have to dig them out, then,” Jane said.

  “That’s a surgical procedure,” Piro said.

  “Where the hell did you put them?” Jane said.

  “Our colonists’ shoulders,” Piro said. Chen nodded at this; his colonists had theirs in the shoulder as well. “It’s not a major surgery, but it’s still cutting into them.”

  “The alternative is exposing every other colonist to the risk of being found and killed,” Jane said, clipping off her words. “I guess your people are just going to have to suffer.” Piro started to open her mouth to respond, but then seemed to think better of it.

  “Even if we dig out the locators, there’s still every other piece of equipment we have,” Gutierrez said, bringing the conversation back around to him. “It’s all wireless. Farm equipment. Medical equipment. All of it. What you’re telling us is that we can’t use any of the equipment we need to survive.”

  “Not all the equipment in the cargo hold supports a wireless connection,” Hiram Yoder said. “None of the equipment we brought with us does. It’s all dumb equipment. It all needs a person behind the controls. We make it work just fine.”

  “You have the equipment,” Gutierrez said. “We don’t. The rest of us don’t.”

  “We’ll share everything we can,” Yoder said.

  “It’s not a matter of sharing,” Gutierrez spat. He took a second to calm himself. “I’m sure you would try to help us,” he said to Hiram. “But you brought enough equipment for you. There’s ten times as many of the rest of us.”

  “We have the equipment,” Jane said. Everyone at the table looked down toward her. “I’ve sent you all a copy of the ship manifest. You’ll see that in addition to all the modern equipment we have, we were also provided with a full complement of tools and implements that were, until today, obsolete. This tells us two things. It tells us that the Colonial Union fully intended for us to be on our own. It also tells us that they don’t intend for us to die.”

  “That’s one spin on the subject,” Trujillo said. “Another is that they knew they were going to abandon us to this Conclave and rather than give us anything we could use to defend ourselves, told us to keep quiet and keep our heads down, and maybe the Conclave won’t hear us.” There were murmurs of agreement around the table.

  “Now’s not the time for that discussion,” I said. “Whatever the CU’s rationale, the fact is we’re here and we’re not going anyplace else. When we’re on the planet and have the colony sorted, then we can have a discussion on what the CU’s strategy means. But for now, we need to focus on what we need to do to survive. Now, Hiram,” I said, handing him my PDA. “Among all of us, you are the one who has the best idea of the capability of this equipment for our needs. Is this workable?”

  Hiram took the PDA and scrolled through the manifest for several minutes.

  “It’s hard to say,” he said finally. “I would need to see it in front of me. And I would need to see the people who would operate it. And there are so many other factors. But I think we could make it work.” He looked up and down the table. “I tell all of you now that whatever I can do to help you, I will. I can’t speak for all of my brethren on the matter, but I can tell you that in my experience each of them is ready to answer the call. We can do this. We can make it work.”

  “There’s another option,” Trujillo said. All eyes went to him. “We don’t hide. We use all the equipment we have—all the resources we have—for our survival. When and if this Conclave comes calling, we tell it we’re a wildcat colony. No affiliation with the CU. Its war is with the Colonial Union, not a wildcat colony.”

  “We’d be disobeying orders,” said Marie Black.

  “The disconnect works both ways,” Trujillo said. “If we need to be isolated, the CU can’t check up on us. And even if we are disobeying orders, so what? Are we in CDF? Are they going to shoot us? Are they going to fire us? And beyond that, do we here at this table honestly feel these orders are legitimate? The Colonial Union has abandoned us. What’s more, they always planned to abandon us. They’ve broken faith with us. I say we do the same. I say we go wildcat.”

  “I don’t think you know what you’re saying when you say we should go wildcat,” Jane said to Trujillo. “The last wildcat colony I was at had all its colonists slaughtered for food. We found the bodies of children in a stack, waiting to be butchered. Don’t kid yourself. Going wildcat is a death sentence.” Jane’s statement hung in the air for several seconds, daring anyone to refute it.

  “There are risks,” Trujillo finally said, taking up the challenge. “But we’re alone. We are a wildcat colony in everything but name. And we d
on’t know that this Conclave of yours is as horrible as the Colonial Union has made it out to be. The CU has been deceiving us all this time. It has no credibility. We can’t trust it to have our interests at heart.”

  “So you want proof the Conclave means us harm,” Jane said.

  “It’d be nice,” Trujillo said.

  Jane turned to me. “Show them,” she said.

  “Show us what?” asked Trujillo.

  “This,” I said. From my PDA—which I would soon no longer be able to use—I turned on the large wall monitor and fed it a video file. It showed a creature on a hill or bluff. Beyond the creature was what looked like a small town. It was bathed entirely in blinding light.

  “The village you see is a colony,” I said. “It was established by the Whaid, not long after the Conclave told the nonaffiliated races to stop colonizing. The Conclave jumped the gun, because it couldn’t enforce its decree at the time. So some of the nonaffiliated races colonized anyway. But now the Conclave is catching up.”

  “Where is that light coming from?” asked Lee Chen.

  “It’s coming from the Conclave ships in orbit,” Jane said. “It’s a terror tactic. It disorients the enemy.”

  “There’s got to be a lot of ships up there,” Chen said.

  “Yes,” Jane said.

  The beams of light illuminating the Whaidian colony suddenly snapped off.

  “Here it comes,” I said.

  The killing beams were hardly detectable at first; they were tuned for destruction, not for show, and nearly all their energy went into their targets, not out to the camera. There was only a waver in the air from the sudden heat, visible even at the distance the camera sat.

  Then, within a fraction of a second, the entire colony ignited and exploded. Superheated air blew the fragments and the dust of the colony’s buildings, structures, vehicles and inhabitants up into the sky in a whirling display that illuminated the power of the beams themselves. The flickering fragments of matter mimicked and mirrored the flames that were now themselves reaching up toward the heavens.

  A shock wave of heat and dust expanded out from the charred remains of the colony. The beams flickered off again. The light show in the sky disappeared, leaving behind smoke and flames. Outside the periphery of the destruction, an occasional solitary eruption of flame would appear.

  “What is that?” asked Yoder.

  “Some of the colonists were outside the colony when it was destroyed, we think,” I said. “So they’re cleaning them up.”

  “Christ,” Gutierrez said. “With the colony destroyed those people would probably be dead anyway.”

  “They were making a point,” Jane said.

  I turned off the video. The room was dead silent.

  Trujillo pointed at my PDA. “How did we get that?” he asked.

  “The video?” I asked. He nodded. “Apparently, this was hand-delivered to the CU State Department, and to every non-Conclave-affiliated government, by messengers from the Conclave itself.”

  “Why would they do that?” Trujillo said. “Why would they show themselves committing an . . . atrocity like this?”

  “So there’s no doubt they mean what they say,” I said. “What this says to me is that no matter what we think of the Colonial Union at the moment, we can’t afford to work on the assumption that the Conclave will act reasonably toward us. The CU has thumbed its nose at these guys, and they’re not going to be able to ignore that. They’re going to come looking for us. We don’t want to give them an opportunity to find us.” This was met with more silence.

  “Now what?” asked Marta Piro.

  “I think you need to have a vote,” I said.

  Trujillo looked up, a slight look of incredulity on his face. “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I almost thought I heard you say we should have a vote.”

  “The plan on the table right now is the one we’ve just put in front of you,” I said. “The one that was given to Jane and me. In light of everything, I think it’s the best plan we’ve got for now. But it’s not going to work if all of you don’t agree. You are going to have to go back to your colonists to explain this. You are going to have to sell this to them. If this colony is going to work, everyone has to be on board with this. And that starts with all of you.”

  I stood up; Jane followed. “This is a discussion you need to have without us,” I said. “We’ll be waiting outside.” We left.

  “Is there something wrong?” I asked Jane, as we exited.

  “Is that a serious question?” Jane snapped. “We’re stranded outside of known space waiting for the Conclave to find us and burn us into the ground, and you’re asking me if there’s something wrong.”

  “I’m asking if there’s something wrong with you,” I said. “You were jumping down everyone’s throat in there. We’re in a bad situation but you and I need to stay focused. And diplomatic, if at all possible.”

  “You’re the diplomatic one,” Jane said.

  “Fine,” I said. “But you’re not helping me.”

  Jane appeared to be counting to ten in her head. And then again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I said.

  “Not now,” Jane said. “Later. When we’re by ourselves.”

  “We are by ourselves,” I said.

  “Turn around,” Jane said. I turned. Savitri was there. I turned back to Jane, but she had walked away for a moment.

  “Everything okay?” Savitri asked, watching Jane walk off.

  “If I knew I would tell you,” I said. I waited for a snappy comeback from Savitri. It didn’t come, which in itself told me about Savitri’s frame of mind. “Has anyone noticed our planet problem?” I asked her.

  “I don’t think so,” Savitri said. “Most people are like you—sorry—and they don’t actually know what the planet looks like. Now, your absence has been noted. Yours and all the colony reps’ as well. But no one seems to think there’s anything sinister about it. You people are supposed to meet and talk about the colony, after all. I do know Kranjic is looking for you, but I think he’s just looking for a quote from you about the celebration and the skip.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Anytime you want to tell me what else is going on, that would be fine, too,” Savitri said. I started to give a rote, flip response and froze when I saw the look in her eye. “Soon, Savitri,” I said. “I promise. We just have a couple things to work out.”

  “All right, boss,” Savitri said. She relaxed just a little.

  “Do me a favor,” I said. “Track down Hickory or Dickory for me. I need to talk to them about something.”

  “You think they know something about this?” Savitri asked.

  “I know they know something about this,” I said. “I just need to find out how much they know. Tell them to meet me in my quarters later.”

  “Will do,” Savitri said. “I’ll find Zoë. They’re always within a thirty-meter radius of her. I think it’s beginning to annoy her, too. Seems they make her new boyfriend nervous.”

  “This would be that Enzo kid,” I said.

  “That’s the one,” Savitri said. “Nice boy.”

  “When we land I think I’ll have Hickory and Dickory take him for a nice long walk,” I said.

  “I think it’s interesting that in the middle of a crisis you can still think of ways to hamstring a boy sweet on your daughter,” Savitri said. “In a twisted way it’s almost admirable.”

  I grinned. Savitri grinned back, which was my hope and intent. “One has to have priorities,” I said. Savitri rolled her eyes and left.

  A few minutes later Jane reappeared, carrying two cups. She handed one to me. “Tea,” she said. “Peace offering.”

  “Thanks,” I said, taking it.

  Jane motioned toward the door, where the colony reps were. “Any news?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “I haven’t even been listening in.”

  “Do you have any plan
for what you’re going to do if they decide our plan is full of crap?” Jane asked.

  “I’m glad you asked,” I said. “I haven’t the slightest idea what to do then.”

  “Thinking ahead, I see,” Jane said, and sipped her tea.

  “Don’t sass me,” I said. “That’s Savitri’s job.”

  “Look. Here comes Kranjic,” Jane said, motioning down the hall, where the reporter had appeared, Beata as ever in tow. “If you want, I could just take him out for you.”

  “But that would leave Beata a widow,” I said.

  “I don’t think she would mind,” Jane said.

  “We’ll let him live for now,” I said.

  “Perry, Sagan,” Kranjic said. “Look, I know I’m not your favorite person, but do you think you might give me a line or two about the skip? I promise I’ll make you look nice.”

  The door to the conference room opened, and Trujillo looked out.

  “Hold on, Jann,” I said to Kranjic. “I’ll have something for you in a minute.” Jane and I went back into the conference room; I heard Kranjic give an audible sigh before we closed the door.

  I turned to the colonist reps. “Well?” I asked.

  “There wasn’t much to discuss,” Trujillo said. “We’ve decided that for now, at least, we should do as the Colonial Union suggested.”

  “Okay, good,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “What we want to know from you now is what we should tell our people,” Trujillo said.

  “Tell them the truth,” Jane said. “All of it.”

  “You were just saying how the CU has been deceiving us,” I said to Trujillo. “Let’s not go down the same road.”

  “You want us to tell them everything,” Trujillo said.

  “Everything,” I said. “Hold that thought.” I opened the door and called Kranjic. He and Beata entered the room. “Start with him,” I said, gesturing to Kranjic.

  They all looked at him.

  “So,” Kranjic said. “What’s up?”

  “The Magellan’s crew will be the last people down,” I said to Jane. I had just come back from a logistics meeting with Zane and Stross; Jane and Savitri had been busy reprioritizing the colony’s equipment based on our new situation. But for the moment, it was just me, Jane and Babar, who as a dog was happily resistant to the stress around him. “After they’re down, Stross will set the Magellan to drive itself into the sun. No muss, no fuss, no sign of us.”