Citadel: First Colony (10 page)

He turned back to the crowd. “We stand now in the reflection of light. And in this light, we are all the same. White Collars, Blue Collars ...
scrubs
.”

He paused to allow them to laugh if they felt like it. Few did.

“This is Citadel,” he said again, looking deeper into the faces of the humans. “And just like its namesake, it is a fortress, a stronghold. It is hope.”

The crowd had become completely silent now.

“When we crashed on this world, we were individuals, each with our own lives and agendas. Each with our own loves and our own prejudices.” He moved his gaze over the crowd as he spoke, pausing slightly at intervals, giving the illusion that he was talking directly to each person. “Now we are much more,” he said.

“We are not a crew. We are not an army. We are not a town or a colony or a civilization.” He paused for a long moment, and just as the humans were becoming uncomfortable with the silence and the unspoken, inevitable question of who—if none of these things—they now were, Somar filled in the answer. “We are family. And a family divided is one that will fall.”

He looked around at the faces of the humans as they covered their eyes, straining to see him amidst the reflected glare. “If we do not ban together now, if we do not bond now, we will die. We will be as a tree whose roots are too far from the water it needs to survive. We will become dry and brittle, and we will break. We cannot afford to stand alone. We cannot afford to look away or look inward. We cannot even afford to look to small clusters of friends. Isolation here, now, means death to all of us. We stand now, not in the shadows of isolation, but in the light of strength, of community ... of family. This,” he said indicating the wrecked vessel behind him, “is not Citadel.” He turned back to the crowd and held his arms out wide, including everyone present in the virtual embrace. “This is Citadel. This. Is. Citadel.”

Suddenly someone in the crowd shouted and clapped. Then others joined. It was small, but it was there.

“This is Citadel!” he shouted.

More shouts, more applause.

“Citadel!” someone shouted from within the crowd.

“Citadel! Citadel!” someone began chanting.

“Citadel!” others joined in. And soon the chant took hold, rolling like a wave over the crowd, and Somar raised his voice to join it. And as he stepped down from the crate and into the crowd, he saw even those who had been belligerent and angry were suddenly galvanized, chanting and cheering and striking the air with their fists.

As Somar moved through the crowd and back toward the command center they had established, he felt that maybe, just maybe, he had accomplished something here. For the first time, he felt less like an outsider, the “alien captain,” and more like a member of this community—of this family.

As he passed Jack, his detractor, the man met his eyes with an angry stare. He said nothing, but continued to watch Somar even after he’d passed.

No family
, Somar thought,
is perfect
.

The
shuttle settled to the ground in a clearing about three miles east
of where the first pod had crash-landed. The temporary heat sink that Mitch and Alan had rigged had done a good job in keeping the engine’s core temperature down for a time, but they were at the very limits now. It would be some time before the engines cooled enough to allow them to lift off again.

The terrain in this region was rocky and uneven, and looked to be worse to the west. It wasn’t going to be easy to retrieve the pod.

Mitch, Alan, and Thomas had pulled on packs with food, water, and climbing gear. “Ever do any rock climbing?” Thomas asked.

“Not really,” Mitch said. “Hard?”

Thomas shrugged. “Never tried it. I was a lab rat.”

“Gear head, here,” Mitch grinned.

“It’s not easy,” Alan said. Mitch and Thomas looked at him as if they’d just remembered he was there, which was pretty close to the truth. “Especially if you’re used to artificial gravity.”

“Great,” Mitch said. “I can hardly wait to discover the joys of the real thing.”

Reilly leaned in from the doorway leading back to the crew chamber. “You sure I shouldn’t be going with you? Wouldn’t it be easier if four people carried this thing?”

“Sure,” Thomas said. “But in case something goes wrong, you’ll have to fly the shuttle back to Citadel.”

“Besides,” Mitch said, “once the shuttle cools down, you might be able to fly in and help us get the pod out.”

“Why not just wait until the engines cool, and we can fly there? Why go for a hike when you don’t have to?” Reilly asked.

“The shuttle won’t be cool enough to launch for hours,” Thomas said. “In that time, we might be able get to the pod and maybe even be back here. If the images from our entry are any indication, there are a lot of these things scattered all over. Some of them may be damaged. Time could be running short for some of these people.”

Reilly nodded, obviously not thrilled about being left behind.

Mitch, seeing the faintly frightened expression on Reilly’s face, pulled her aside. “Hey, we’ll back as soon as possible. Just track us on the nav computer. We all have beacons. You’ll have to be our eyes and ears as we get closer.”

“I know. I can handle it. I just ... well, I’m not really used to being alone.”

Mitch laughed. “What, you miss me already?”

She smiled and punched his shoulder, hard. “Just don’t get yourself killed, Mitch. And take care of Alan.”

“What about Thomas?”

She looked at the White Collar engineer, “Something tells me he can take care of himself. But yeah, look out for him, too.” She paused then, looking at him, as if considering something. Then rushed forward and hugged him tightly. Before Mitch could say anything, she turned and hurried back to the pilot controls.

“Well,” Thomas said from behind him, “we’d better get going.”

Mitch turned, his eyes wide with surprise. He blinked, nodded, and hit the release for the cargo hatch.

Since the shuttle wasn’t pressurized, there was barely a noise as the large cargo door settled down to the ground—just the sound of the hydraulics and the low hum of the motor, followed by the crunching of gravel as the door settled in. The three men stepped down the ramp and were making their way over the rocky terrain in no time.

Mitch reflected on the spontaneous hug and took a quick glance back at the shuttle. He grabbed the wireless from the shoulder strap on his pack. “Shuttle this is Search Team,” he said.

“Go ahead Search.”

“Just ... checking the comms,” Mitch said.

“Everything’s clear. Don’t forget to wind them.”

“Roger, out.”

He looked at the other two men who were obviously suppressing smirks. “I had to test the comms,” he said.

“Of course,” Thomas said.

“Charge your batteries,” Mitch grumbled, and unfolded the hand crank from the back of the wireless, turning it as they walked. When the charge meter hit green, he folded the handle back into the radio and clipped it back to his pack strap. The others did the same, grinning the whole time.

––––––––

T
he
day was a little warm,
and after walking for half an hour, they stopped and opened their jumpsuits, letting the top portion fold down and hang around their waists. Mitch took a sip of water from his canteen. “This may take longer than we expected,” he said.

Thomas was studying a photo print of the map they’d used to get here. “The terrain’s pretty rough. It’s going to slow us down quite a bit. But I don’t think it will be much longer. I figure we’re about halfway there.”

Mitch nodded. They moved on, trudging through snagging brush and rocky terrain.

“This reminds me of when I used to go camping with my grandfather,” Thomas huffed as they made their way through thick brambles and rock-strewn patches.

“Yeah? What planet did you grow up on?”

Thomas seemed to hesitate. “I was Earth-born.”

“Earth?” Mitch said. “I didn’t think there were many unoccupied areas left on Earth.”

Again Thomas hesitated, as if composing an answer. Mitch took note of the brief hesitation, wondering what it might mean. “There are a few patches here and there, I guess,” Thomas said. He obviously wanted to let the subject drop. Mitch wondered what he was hiding, but decided not to pry. For now.

“Your hands seem to be ok,” he said, changing the subject.

Again there was hesitation.

“Yeah, well, they’re not hurting anymore. I think they weren’t as bad off as everyone thought.” As if to demonstrate, Thomas held up his hands and slowly flexed them.

Mitch nodded, then turned his attention back to the rough terrain. If Thomas had secrets he felt the need to keep, then that was his business, wasn’t it? Mitch personally had no real secrets. Nothing anyone would be interested in learning, anyway. Growing up starships, where privacy was limited, secrets that stayed kept were rare. Still, Mitch understood that there might be some bits of a man’s past that he would want to keep quiet. So be it.

Alan had moved a bit ahead and suddenly stopped. “Wreckage,” he called back to them. They hurried forward to the slight rise where he stood in order to get a better look.

Sure enough there were bits of wreckage spread out on the landscape in front of them. Large sections of the colony module lay strewn in a great swath of destruction. The distance was deceptive, as they looked as if they were close by. In reality the huge chunks of metal were miles away.

The three men were silent for a time. Finally, after looking at the horizon of twisted metal for a few minutes, Thomas asked, “Can any of that be salvaged? Used to repair Citadel?”

“Maybe,” Mitch said. “But it’s going to take a larger expedition than what we’re on at the moment. I’d say we’d need to bring a large crew back here. And we’ll need the shuttle to be in better working condition.”

“So we need parts to fix the shuttle, so we can go get the parts we need to fix the shuttle,” Thomas smiled.

“Irony sucks,” Mitch nodded.

It was Alan who came up with a plan. “Once we have a few of the pods rescued, we could land the shuttle near where the control deck crashed,” he pointed to one of the nodules of the craft that jutted out over the terrain ahead. “That will have the majority of what we’ll need to get the communications system up and running again.”

Again Mitch nodded. “And if we can spare it, we should try to make an attempt to salvage a couple of the propulsion and coolant systems from the atmospheric engines.”

“Those are pretty far apart,” Thomas said. “It might add a couple of days to our trip. We’ll be outside of our window.”

“What if we went for the engine parts first?” Alan asked.

The other two exchanged glances. “You mean, before we rescue the pods?” Thomas asked.

“If we have fully functional engines, we can make better time on getting the pods.”

“Damn,” Thomas said. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

Mitch was shaking his head. “That’s not the mission. Captain Somar ordered us to make the pods a priority.”

“He’s right,” Thomas said. “And those people may be dying as we speak, if the pods were damaged. Time is a factor here.”

“The pods would still be the priority,” Alan said. “With working engines, we can get to more pods in a shorter time. It might make a difference in how many we can save.” He was intense but not insistent. It actually surprised Mitch that the young man was so mature. He believed that his plan was the right way to go, but he wasn’t insisting that his idea be followed. He was willing to give his opinion and then let the people in charge make their decisions.

Mitch looked at Thomas, who was clearly trying to determine the best course of action. “You’re leading this mission,” Mitch said. “It’s your decision.”

“What do you think, Mitch? What’s your take?”

Mitch shrugged. “He has a point. If we got the engines back online and working properly, we could get to more pods in less time. It’s a gamble, though. Even if we find the parts in decent condition, it will take some time to rebuild the engines.”

“How much time?”

“Maybe a day,” Mitch answered.

Thomas thought for a moment. “If we are able to make better time to the other pods, though, that day won’t cost us much. We’ll actually be able to come back ahead of schedule and go out for the next run.”

“That seems to be it,” Mitch said.

Thomas immediately came to a conclusion. “ok. We know there’s at least one pod between us and the wreckage. We’ll continue on and make the first recovery. We’ll also pick out and clear a landing zone for Reilly, and when she’s ready she can make a hop close by so we can load up and head for the wreckage.”

That was as good a plan as any. Alan seemed to nod his approval as well. Mitch found himself feeling a deep respect for both men. Alan was proving to be resourceful and intelligent, and Thomas, secrets or no, had a good head for this kind of thing.

He pulled his radio and called to Reilly to let her know about the new plan.

Somar
was perplexed by what he was seeing.
After studying the survey maps and the satellite images for the past couple of days, he could come to only one conclusion.

They were not where they were supposed to be.

At first, he had accepted Mitch Garrison’s suggestion that some of the survey maps might be missing. But after carefully searching through every map he’d found, he was satisfied that the entirety of the planet was laid out before him. Now that the computers were powered up and working, he confirmed that there was no data loss, and the digital maps matched the paper prints precisely. The satellite telemetry, which was spotty but functional, provided him with a landscape that diverged wildly from the survey maps.

These surveys had been made by satellites that had been thrust into orbit by an open lightrail beam only a year earlier. As the network of lightrail hubs expanded further into the galaxy, the number of newly discovered planets increased exponentially. Satellites were sent to potential colony worlds with precision and a great deal of planning, and only to the worlds that hit specific markers for supporting life.