Citadel: First Colony (32 page)

“What could he possibly have in mind?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t know,” Alonzo said. “But one thing is clear. He’s looking for something in the pods.”

P
enny
wasn’t entirely sure of anything these days.
The chaos that her life had become was starting to wear her out, and it was becoming more difficult to drag any sense out of the events of her life. Her father was heavily injured and resting back at their makeshift camp. Her mother was still missing. And Taggart was at the heart of it all, somehow responsible for shaking up her life and stranding her here.

So no, she wasn’t entirely sure of anything right now, except for one fact: Alan Angelou was
looking
for something.

Not the pods. More like something
in
the pods. It had occurred to her slowly, but now she was sure about it. He was just going through the motions. When the found a pod, he would rescue the person inside, call in the crew to escort the colonist back to base camp, have the pod’s equipment and provisions prepared for salvage, and then continue on. He would also attempt to get Penny to return to the camp with the rest, leaving him to explore alone.

But it was the systems check that was really unusual.

With every pod, Alan would immediately access the computer systems. He said he was checking the health stats and other information regarding each colonist. But Penny couldn’t see how that would make much difference. The health readings would be from the moments before stasis, largely. The only reading that was taken while the person slept was a life sign check. That was for spot-checking in a colony bay, but on the surface it would be enough to open the pod and let the person out. They had to salvage parts and materials from the pod anyway, regardless of whether the colonist had survived.

Penny had thought about asking Alan what he was looking for, but stopped herself. She really didn’t know Alan that well. If he was hiding something, it was his business, wasn’t it?

He seemed to like her and even took care of her if she needed help. And he seemed to be very caring toward the colonists. But he also seemed somehow ... distant. Unlike Taggart, who put himself in the middle of any group of people and dominated them through his personality, Alan stayed at the fringes, led with quiet authority, and kept his agenda to himself. There was more to him than he let on, Penny was certain, but she wasn’t sure what it meant, that he had a secret.

“There’s one,” Alan said. The two of them were standing at the top of a small ridge, looking over a wooded area ahead. There were mostly small trees and brush within walking distance. Further on was what looked like a large, lush forest. Penny was used to hiking and being outdoors. She spotted the signs of a river, even though none was visible. But she saw no indication of a pod nearby.

“I don’t see it,” Penny admitted.

“There,” Alan said, leaning in close to her and pointing.

Penny felt a bit uncomfortable but was shocked to find that she also felt a little thrilled. Most of the guys she had dated, back on Earth or even out in the colonies, were showboats. They were extremely good-looking with faces and bodies crafted by the best services fame and money could buy. But they were vacant. Empty. She dated them because, as the rich party girl, it was expected of her. It was part of her “cover.” But she secretly felt disgusted by most of them.

Alan, though, was
real
. He was handsome, but not in that artificial way. He didn’t wear any product in his hair or dress in the latest fashions. He had a strong and lean body that came from real work, not a gym. He was also smart and deep and mysterious.

Penny caught herself glancing sideways at him and immediately forced herself to follow the line of his arm and finger, out onto the terrain ahead. She saw it then. There was the tiniest reflection as the sun glinting off of metal. “How did you see that?” she whispered, awed.

“I’m pretty good with details,” he said, then hesitated. “Most of the time.”

He stepped away from her then, and the two of them marched on toward the pod.

“What does that mean, ‘most of the time?’ Did you overlook something?” She was probing for information about what he was looking for. Maybe if he’d just trust her with it, she could help him find it.

“I recently overlooked something, and things went a little crazy. But I’m working on repairing the damage.”

“What was it?” Penny asked. Then, before he could answer, she stopped and waited. He also stopped, and then turned around. “What are you looking for in the pods?” Penny asked bluntly.

The effect was immediate. Alan’s eyes widened just slightly, then the calm and stoicism settled back into place. “What makes you think I’m looking for something in the pods?” he asked.

“It’s a program or something,” Penny said. “You have something hidden in one of the computers, is that it? A file maybe?”

Alan stood, silent.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” she asked.

Alan stood for a bit longer, then said, “Yes.”

Penny blinked. She had been sure, but now it was confirmed. “So ... what is it? Can I help you find it?”

For the first time, Alan actually smiled. “Well, I can’t really go into what it is. And no, I don’t think you can help me find it. I hid it very well.”

Penny regarded him for a moment. “What is it, Alan? What could you possibly have hidden in the pod computer systems? Aren’t those protected by all kinds of security?”

Alan nodded. “Yes. Lots of security. But a lot less than the ship’s systems. And it was the only way to hide them.”

“Them?” Penny asked. “More than one program?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “Penny, it’s hard to explain. But what I’m trying to do ... I’m trying to save my parents, for one thing. And I’m trying to give someone a second chance. I can’t tell you what’s happening. I just need you to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

She studied him for a while. “ok,” she said.

He blinked. “Just like that?”

She waved in the direction of the camp, some distance behind them. “You’ve saved all those people. You saved my dad. You saved me. And you’re helping me save my mom. I think there’s something a little ... weird ... about you. But whatever you’re looking for, it doesn’t keep you from helping people. I know something about trying to rescue your parents. So I’ll help you. Anyway I can, I guess.”

Alan watched her for a moment, and in an instant was back to his normal, stoic self. He turned and started toward the glint of metal in the distance.

Taggart
was never unsure
. All of his life, he had been certain of every decision, every choice. And when something went wrong, he was always confident that he could fix things, put things back on track. Right now, staring out at a crowd of Blue Collars, White Collars, and colonists, he felt secure enough in his plan. He knew what he was about to do, and he knew the potential risks. He was prepared to deal with those risks, even if it meant his own death.

His plan was simple: Bring them all to the brink of war. Make them want each other dead. Make them thirst for the blood of their enemy. And then shame them into uniting under his leadership.

It wasn’t without its risks, but Taggart had spent a lifetime taking calculated risks, the consequences of which could have ended him at any time. While pushing through all of the processes of Taggart Industries, there were numerous times when his decisions could have maimed or killed him, and possibly others. But his risks led to new innovations, new technologies, new discoveries, and, ultimately, new ambitions.

He watched as the Blue Collars began to cluster together in a tight group. They were forming their own tribe, right in the middle of the rest of humanity here. They were becoming a unique organism, with its own mind and its own agenda. They had no idea that the mind and agenda belonged to Taggart and not to the group itself.

The White Collars and colonists had no such unity. They were dispersed. Awkward. The colonists especially had no clue what was happening around them. Many of them continued to behave as if they were in control. They issued commands, leveled their gaze on the workers, and generally fouled the air of the camp with their self-importance. Taggart couldn’t stand most of them. They had always been a necessary part of his plan, but their value was starting to diminish. Here, isolated from the rest of the colonies, the power they had represented to him was no more. He would require something more substantial. Something more ...
basic
. He needed the truly productive hands and minds of this world to follow him.

It would be tricky.

One of the colonists—a man named Carter whom Taggart had recruited into Earth First personally because of his contacts and clout in the colonies—was bullying a Blue Collar.

“How long do we have to live in a filthy tent? I can see the shelters are being built, but what’s the timeline? Who is the foreman of this operation?”

The Blue Collar, a young man with grease and dirt on his face and hands, tensed his shoulders. Taggart watched as he visibly controlled himself, apparently refusing to make what would be a devastating punch to this soft, useless colonist. “Right now, Billy Sans is directing the construction under the alien’s orders.”

There. It was happening. The emphasis on “alien,” the tightness of the Blue Collar’s voice, the tension in his shoulders and neck—Taggart was able to learn all he needed to know. He was able to see the soup boil. It was time to start adding the final ingredients.

“Son, do you know who I am? I am the CEO of Carter Colony Reserve. I know the timeframe of building a shelter. We have been on this planet for more than a week and not one structure has been completed!”

“Yes, sir,” the Blue Collar clenched. “But we don’t have the resources that a typical colony has right now. We’re doing the best we can.”

“It’s a sight too little,” Carter sniffed. “I’ll speak with the Captain. If you people can’t get your act together ...”

Taggart stepped into the conversation at this point. “Carter, I’ll thank you to shut your mouth,” he said in a kindly tone.

Carter stopped in mid-sentence, his jaw hanging slack and his eyes wide. “
Wha
- what did you just say to me?”

“What did I say? Carter, you know I do not like to repeat myself. I suggest you go back to your filthy tent and prepare to stay there for quite a while. I will have a work assignment drawn up for you and your family soon.”

“Work ... what are you talking about, Taggart? I am the CEO ...”

“Now.” Taggart said. He locked eyes with the man and held an expression that said in no uncertain terms that this was the last Taggart was willing to say or hear on the subject.

Carter, no fool and very familiar with Taggart’s ability to be brutal when necessary, closed his mouth, turned with a huff, and fairly sprinted to one of the “filthy tents” that stood along the tree line.

Taggart turned back to the Blue Collar, keeping the stern expression on his face just long enough for a message to register, even if subconsciously, with his new “friend.” It would be heard, he knew. The message would spread among the Blue Collars. “Taggart is our friend. He can’t stand the colonists. He’s one of us.”

“I’m sorry you were treated so poorly, son,” Taggart said. He smiled now and clasped the young man’s shoulder. “The system ... well, it’s quite broken, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes, sir,” the boy answered.

“But us ... those of us who put our hands to things, who know how to build ... we know how to fix a broken system, don’t we?” Without waiting for the boy to answer, he supplied the reply himself. “When a system is broken bad enough, you tear it down and build a new one. That’s how you create a new order, isn’t it? That’s how you put things back to rights?”

Taggart saw the light come on in the boy’s eyes. He knew it by heart. It was the same light he had seen when he had approached each of the colonists about this trip with the details (some, at least) of his plan. It was the light of understanding, but more. It was the light of love and loyalty.

Taggart had just won this young man’s heart.

“Yes, sir,” the boy said, now much more sure of himself.

“You and I, we’re the same, you know. Did you know that I have worked in every level of Taggart Industries? I had to. My father, a good and honest man, insisted that I learn the business from the ground up. He insisted that I could not have the comforts of wealth unless I earned them, unless I’d had the grease of every machine under my nails at some point. If I had failed to be successful, even at the lowest level of Taggart Industries, I would not rise. I could, even now, still be working as a tank scrubber, if I had not managed to learn everything there was to know about the job. Have you ever been a tank scrubber, son?”

“No, sir,” the boy answered.

“Filthiest, lowest job in the universe. I once was solely responsible for cleaning the sewage tanks of three Taggart Industries starships. This is work that can’t be done by automation, son. It has to be done by hand. You have to crawl into this confined space, the only light coming from your hand-cranked helmet lamp, and scrub every centimeter of the tank with brushes and rags and your own, barely gloved hands. And before you’re done, you are covered from head to toe in human excrement and waste. You are indistinguishable from the filth that humanity produces. Not pleasant.”

Taggart could see the hint of revulsion in the young man’s eyes. It was working. He was showing the boy that he was one of them. That he had started from the very lowest position and had worked his way up to power. And if Taggart could do it,
any
Blue Collar could. That was the message that Taggart knew would eventually reach the ears of every Blue Collar. That was the last cog that Taggart needed to start the wheels turning on his new, slightly adjusted plan.

“Son, I’ve been to the bottom, but I’ve also been to the top. And I know a secret. Any man can do it.
You
can do it. All it takes is dedication, perseverance, and strength of heart. It takes knowing who your friends are and trusting in the right leader. I came to this colony hoping to help these soft, entitled, upper-crust rich colonists to experience life in a new way. But now I see ... I was wasting my time with them. They won’t do what needs to be done. They won’t learn the lessons that need to be learned. But then, there’s you and your friends. The Blue Collars. You are good people. ‘Salt of the Earth,’ as they used to say. You are people I respect. If only I could have led you, instead. What wonders could we build, do you think?”