Blighted Star (8 page)

Lana
smiled a washed-out smile. “Yes thanks Athena, I got about five hours after the
guys had been found. I just lay down and went out like a light.” Lana held up
something the size of a dinner plate. It was matt black and had one smooth
surface and one covered in indentations which looked random but were, Athena
knew, laid down in an extremely specific order. “Athena, I know we need every
one of these to help with the lifting now the shuttle’s gone, but I was
wondering, could we spare two? It would be in a very good cause I promise.”

Athena
felt very dubious.  “We arrived with how many? A hundred or so?”

“Two
hundred and ten.”

“Oh.
How many did we lose at the quarry?”

“One
hundred and forty-six, Thirty are out round the settlements. The rest are still
in storage right here. There’s a good chance there’ll be at least a few more in
private hands”

“Hmm,
that’s a few more than I thought we had. What have you got in mind?”

“When
I was a kid there was a mania for sky sports. I guess that’s what got me into
being a pilot. Anyway, we used to build our own sky canoes. It’s really simple,
all you do is build a simple frame, attach two A/G’s, one at either end, and
some sort of simple propulsion. Even a cooling fan will do. You mostly steer by
shifting your body mass round the cockpit.”

“How
much can one of these carry?”

“We
used to reckon on one A/G for the skyak, one for the pilot. But of course, A/G
technology’s got much better since I was a kid. Without doing the sums I would
say that it could carry two people in perfect safety, three people if you kept
it low and slow. My brother built one which could carry seven kids, but the
grown-ups stepped in and told him he would have to register it as an aircraft.
Dad took it apart while he was at school. But we did fly it a couple of times
before they stopped us.”

“And
you’re sure you could make one?” Athena tapped the sealing tool she was holding
against her jaw.

“Absolutely,
it would take a few days, but the Tech’s not hard at all. The really useful
thing is, you can tow things on a line behind you.”

 Athena
brightened “Really? Is that safe?” The probes were hopeless at carrying
material, they could only manage two kilos and even that was a strain on their
tiny A/Gs

“Safe-ish.
Strictly only for in times of emergency. But it can be done. Each package gets
its own unit, you tie them all together, get one end of the rope onto the back
of the canoe and off you go. Easy to get going, easy in flight, an absolute pig
when it comes to stopping. And totally not to be attempted in any kind of wind.
But it would be one way we could get a decent service going again.”

“Lana,
would the first trip be out to where Grad is? Because he’s back in a couple of
days anyway.”

“Well,
it would take that long to make the canoe anyway. The thing is, what if
something goes wrong with the plans to make a new shuttle? Hopefully nothing
will but if there were a delay they would be stranded out there even longer.
This way they would definitely get some sort of help on Friday whatever
happens. And after all, it’s not like I’m doing anything in the meantime. I
haven’t got a shuttle anymore.”

Athena
thought for a moment, looking as she did so at the pilot’s hopeful face. She
looked so young, so bright and eager. Athena remembered a few hours before when
Lana had looked so haggard and careworn, and she couldn’t help the grin which
pulled at the corners of her lips.

“O.K.
Lana, get two A/G’s out of stores and whatever else you need.  If you have
to scrounge around for materials you can do so in my name, if anyone challenges
you. But the mining effort and the new shuttle take precedence. All right?”

Lana
could barely contain her eagerness to get away and begin. “Thanks Athena, you
won’t regret it.”

<><><> 

Gerard
Pitot was getting really pissed off, and he wasn’t the only one. They had all
signed up for this in good faith. Most had paid good money to show they were
serious, and they had put themselves into the hands of the colony agency on the
understanding that they would be going to a life which if not better in terms
of material comforts, would at least better suit the pioneering aspects of
their personalities. He wasn’t afraid of hardship, that wasn’t the problem.
What was getting his blood up was the way things were being handled, or rather,
mishandled. It was about time they were told what steps were being taken.

Since
the loss of the quarry the supply of sheet metal had dried up, and his house
was only part built. At least he had the roof on which was more than some
people. But now he was left with nothing to do, like all the other townspeople.
Nothing to do but wait, and that wasn’t pioneering.

Unlike
all the people milling around on the town’s green, though, Gerard had read
every page of his colony charter. Clause 52 was an interesting one, and he had
looked at it very carefully before he had set his signature down. In effect it
was a fail-safe clause in case the administration proved incompetent for any
reason or, in the deliberately vague wording of the document, “…unable to rise
to the challenges of the programme…”. Gerard had a strong feeling that it was
nearly time to invoke Clause 52, but he knew that he would require substantial
backing for such a step. He decided to wander down into the crowd and see if he
could gauge the swell of opinion in Heart Lake. The early afternoon air was
still and heavy with moisture. It carried the low murmur of voices clearly to
him. He passed a quartet of farmbots which were improving the main thoroughfare
of the town. In the past few days since they had been set up they had cleared a
hundred acres of stones from the surrounding fields, working tirelessly night
and day. Now they were using the piles of graded stones to form the base of a
road. The final part of the process would come when they lined up to cross and
recross the pebbly surface, coating it with carbon drawn straight from the
atmosphere which they would lay down in strands, forming a durable surface like
a thick mat of black spider web. The whole process would take days, but would
go on quietly in the background without any further need for supervision by the
townsfolk.

In
a way that was part of the problem of human life, even here in a brand new
colony, right on the edge of human expansion. There wasn’t really anything for
a man to do anymore. All his needs could be supplied by robots either big or
small. Vats could grow his meat, his clothing never wore out and cleaned itself
as it soiled due to nano-tech. Even in the home tiny robots scurried about
clearing up after him. You signed up for a colony thinking you were going on a
great adventure of self-discovery and all you got was the same experience of
being spoon-fed by machines. And now look at them, these so called pioneers;
they were helpless because the chain had broken down. There was no way they
could survive on this planet, benign though it was, without the constant
attention of the robots. The whole thing was frankly depressing.

By
the time he reached the crowd on the green, Gerard’s self-confidence had eroded
completely. What could he or anyone else do? The administration was a pathetic
joke, but getting it replaced would be impossible with these sheep. He stood on
the fringes, looking back along the street resentfully at the four robots
glinting in the sunlight.

<><><> 

Grad
straightened up and looked at the bioscan the probe had brought. The rows of
little green numbers meant little or nothing to him. He held up the screen to
the eyes of the probe and back at Cassini Dr Clarke examined the readouts.

“Right,
well. There is extensive internal bruising but nothing immediately
life-threatening. You’ll be fine, Jim, but don’t exert yourself in any way until
you get back. I take it that the blood you were passing hasn’t been present the
last few times you peed?”

The
probe wasn’t really designed for transmitting the human voice, and the doctor,
like everyone else came out sounding slightly flat and tinny. Jim shook his
head in reply, very gently because the muscles in his neck felt as if they had
been torn by a giant hand, and his headache threatened to return with renewed
force at the littlest movement. At least the nanos were masking most of the
pain from his broken arm, and now that he was in the presence of a medic the
age old magic was working and he was beginning to feel better just for being
told by a doctor that he wasn’t on the point of death.

“Well,
keep an eye open for any recurrence. Grad, keep an eye on him. Make sure he
rests. See you soon fellows.”

The
Doctor’s image projected by the probe was replaced by that of Lana, and Chan
busied himself as best he could with nothing in particular while she and Grad
had a rather forced conversation. It was hard not to steal glances at Lana. She
was, he was sure, considered by all the males of the colony and a few of the
females too to be the best looking person on the planet, her dark golden curls
of hair falling across fine shoulders of the colour of honey. In fact, she and
Grad made a startlingly handsome couple. Sickening, he thought wryly.

After
the probe had gone, Grad settled himself back down on the sand. He was unused
to such a prolonged period of inactivity and found it really galling. Looking
at the lake he wished he had some fishing gear…and some fish. Or better still,
some diving gear. That would be something to look into for the future, diving
tours of a planet covered in the most beautiful lakes, and not just diving; all
kinds of water sports would do well here once things were properly established.
Right now though, the weather was hot, the water was inviting…would Chan feel
strong enough for a swim, or at least a paddle?

<><><> 

Jackson
snapped back into the present moment.

“What
did you say?”

“Hmm,
What? Why have you stopped?” Christel’s eyes opened slightly.

“Just
then, you called me Grad.” he rolled off her and stood at the side of the bed.

“Don’t
be silly, come back to bed…” she regarded him through those long lashes, hand
outstretched, beckoning impatiently. Her hair was pulled into a severe looking
bun and pinned to the top of her head, and now it nodded back and forth as she
gestured. He felt an overwhelming urge to grip that hair in his hand, feeling
its strands crushed against his palm, and to shake it until the truth came out
of her, until the hair tore in his fingers.

A
weird feeling was sweeping over him. He had suspected her so many times that
now that he had  proof positive he couldn’t quite believe that he had
heard correctly. He felt that he must hold onto his belief and not let her
steal it away as he knew she would try to. He fixed his eyes on hers, feeling
them going dry, fighting back an incipient twitch, she would see that, she
would know it for a sign of weakness.

“Stop
it Christel. Stop the lying. You’ve just blown it.”

Christel’s
hand stopped circling in the air between them. “Blown what? You’re being
stupid.”

“Christel,
I
heard
you. You called me “Grad”.
.
Stop lying to me.” he felt
his face reddening, Even he had heard a slight note of doubt in his voice.

“Now,
Hugo, I don’t know what you think you heard but I did not say ‘Grad’ or
anything else. I may have grunted. Just a little. It’s unladylike I know, but
there you are. Now come back to bed at once and finish what you began.” the
hand was there again, jerking imperiously. For a moment he was paralysed with
indecision. Even his cock seemed undecided. It jumped once, then continued to
deflate, shrivelling to nothing.  Someone passed down the corridor beyond
their door, feet clinking a little on the metal surface. The footsteps sounded
like those of a child. Jackson’s next words came out as a hissed whisper.

“No
Christel. Fuck you, you’ve blown it because you are a
liar
and you can’t
help yourself. Well fuck you, I’ve had it. Get out! There are some free
quarters at the other side of the ship, I suggest you go and set up in there.”
he put his hands on his hips, felt slightly ridiculous in that pose and took
them off, folding them across his chest. Christel glared at him.

“You’re
mad. I’ve done nothing. Nothing. It’s you who’s blown it. You. Don’t come
crawling to me when you come to your senses.” Now she was out of bed and
scrambling into her clothes. “How dare you accuse me of anything! I’ve been so
good to you, far better than you deserve you little prick. I made you look
good. Now everyone will see what a sad little shit you really are.” She had
finished pulling on her long boots and stood up face burning with hatred. “And
if I had fucked Grad, I bet he would have been a million times better than
you.”

The
door slammed and he was on his own. He tried to assess how he felt, tried to
run a damage report. He’d been right, hadn’t he? He hadn’t misheard? Her
reaction had been that of a cornered animal surely, all that venom spitting.
Even if he
had
been wrong her reaction showed their relationship for
what it had been; if he so much as stepped out of line she whirled round on
him, all piss and vinegar. Good riddance. Anyway, he was pretty sure he’d heard
right in the first place. He felt strangely lightheaded, as if some part of his
mind had suddenly been taken away. He got a glimpse, just a foretaste, of the
loneliness that was to come.