Citadel: First Colony (36 page)

“Why would they come straight to us?” Penny asked.

“Oh don’t be silly, dear. They obviously want to reunite me with your father as quickly as possible.”

“I don’t think that’s it, Mom.”

“I need to prepare,” Alan said, and he ducked back down to the control panel of the pod. He pulled a line of cable from his scanner and plugged it directly into the pod’s interface port. There was a slight spark, and the air filled with the smell of ozone for a moment.

“What do you mean?” Penny asked.

Alan said nothing.

“Alan, what’s happening? What do you need to prepare for?”

Alan looked up at her. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Penny was about to ask for more information when she heard the rumble and whine of the shuttle’s engines. She and her mother turned to see it dive in, then pull up slightly, nose to the sky, as it drifted toward the ground. “They’re here!” she said.

She turned back to Alan, who was standing next to the pod with the scanner in his hand. The cable tethered him to the pod’s computer interface. He looked rigid and determined.

“Alan, what ...”

“Penny, I want you to know that I never planned for this. Not this. And I ... I’m sorry it has to be this way. But it’s the only way to save them.”

“Save who?” she asked. “Oh ... your parents? But I don’t understand, what are you going to do?”

“Not just my parents, Penny. I’m going to save them all.”

“All who?” She asked.

“First Colony,” he said. “I’m going to save them all”

The shuttle touched down in a cloud of dust, and before Penny could ask Alan any further questions, he pushed a button on the scanner, and she suddenly wasn’t Penny anymore.

Somar
knew that Taggart was making his move
, but with everything else that was happening, he was unsure of what to do about it. Captain Alonzo, now in full contact but slowly dying in the orbital platform miles above, was filling him in on just how dire their situation was.

“The crew here is still in stasis, and I have no way to wake them. Without them, I can’t repair the launch systems, or any other system for that matter. The orbitals will remain stuck in their launch bays. But the worse news is that the platform isn’t in a stable orbit.”

“You were unable to reach geosynchronous orbit?”

“I got close, but guidance and navigation were among the worst sys—“ he broke into a wet, hacking cough. The wounds on his face leaked blood again, and flecks of it fell onto the display. Alonzo wiped them off with one hand, leaving slight smears on the screen. “The worst systems damage,” he continued. “I wasn’t able to get in sync, and we’re slowly falling into the atmosphere.”

“Captain Alonzo, I do wish you would allow me to help you. Mr. Thomas should return with the shuttle and Mr. Angelou in a short time, and I could come up to the orbital platform and ... perform the procedure.”

“You’ll do no such thing, Somar. As one Captain to another, one
warrior
to another, I’m asking you to give me my dignified death, do you understand? I know all about the ...
procedure
... your people use. I’m too far gone for it to help. At best, it would delay the inevitable.”

Somar nodded. “As you wish.”

“Now, to continue ... if we can’t get systems repaired, this ship is going to be a brick the size of a city, and it’s going to fall in. Even if I drop the atmospheric shielding, the heat of re-entry won’t be enough to destroy all the bigger pieces. That means we’re going to make a hell of an impact. We need to make sure that impact isn’t anywhere near Citadel.”

“I will have Mr. Sans begin projections immediately. If we know in advance, we can take precautions.”

“Agreed. Meanwhile, I’m going to get back to trying to wake up my little bunch of sleepy heads. Hopefully Angelou didn’t plant any more surprises in the ship’s systems.”

“Very well. I will contact you when I have more information, Captain.”

“Same here, Captain. Alonzo out.”

The screen dimmed, and Somar stood. He looked around at the command center. Personnel were buzzing and moving about. Billy Sans was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Mr. Sans?” he asked the room.

Several Blue Collars and White Collars looked his way, but none could answer. One White Collar spoke up, “The last time I saw him was when the shuttle landed. I think he was helping with the pods.”

Somar nodded. “He will be with the construction crews then. I will go to him. You are in command in my absence,” he said. The White Collar nodded, and Somar left the tent.

The air outside was crisp and cool, even in the afternoon sun. The humidity was lower than it had been on previous days, which seemed to suit the humans fine. Somar, whose people could take moisture from the air, felt that it was a bit dry. But still he appreciated the atmosphere. There was a kind of electricity here, a tingling that made him feel hopeful.

It was unfortunate the mood had not spread to everyone.

He walked to the area where the homes were being built. The outer shell of Citadel, meant to supply building materials for the colony, had been stripped down, and now the towering craft was a gleaming spire of brass and steel. Fixtures curled and bent along its surface—the exposed inner plumbing and wiring conduits of the vessel.  These, too would be salvaged, until all that remained was a sleek, smooth tower that housed the sophisticated computer and defense systems of the colony. Bit by bit, Citadel shed its layers and revealed its true nature within. Bit by bit, the colony grew from Citadel’s flesh.

Somar saw, in the symmetry of the colony’s development, a process very much like the birth of an Esool. From the mother’s flesh, the infant grew, covered in a bark–like skin that protected it and nourished it. And then, when the budding time had arrived, the infant separated from the mother, the remaining bark fell away, and a new Esool stood on two tiny, unsteady legs. Somar had seen it hundreds of time as his own children had been born. It was a moment of pure joy.

As he rounded the base of Citadel, he stopped short. Before him, in what had become a sort of Town Square for the colony, a mob of people had gathered. In the middle of the square was a group of colonists. They were huddled together, and looked very frightened. Among them were numerous White Collars, who also looked as if they were afraid.

Surrounding them was a horde of Blue Collars, who jeered and prodded and cursed at the group, which was hopelessly outnumbered.

And there was Taggart, standing on the platform that had become the center of public address in the colony. He was flanked by several Blue Collars, who wielded heavy branches and stones. They were obviously there to guard their leader.

“Somar!” Taggart shouted, and the whole group seemed to stop its motion and turn to the Captain. “So good of you to come. You saved us the trouble of tracking you down. Thank you.”

Somar looked at the crowd, and then glanced around to determine his options. They were few.

To his right was the base of Citadel. On the opposing side, there was a door to the interior stairwell. If he could make it there, he could lock himself safely inside. The alloy used to make Citadel’s hull wasn’t quite indestructible, but to humans wielding rocks and clubs it may as well be.

The problem, however, was that he was not at all sure he would make it to that door. And if he did, what then? He would be trapped there, with no real hope of escape. He would have no way to warn Mr. Thomas or Mr. Garrison, and no way to call for help.

His other options, however, were just as bleak. There was simply nowhere he could safely run.

“You have coerced the Blue Collars into helping you,” Somar said. He was stalling for time, hoping a solution would present itself.

“Oh, yes,” Taggart said. The Blue Collars laughed and sneered. Many of them were brandishing crude weapons made from rocks and wood and torn metal. They were primitive, but they would be effective.

“They recognize a kindred spirit, Somar. Like attracts like, after all.”

“You are nothing like them,” Somar said calmly.

“Oh? I disagree. And so do my friends, isn’t that right?”

“Taggart!” some shouted. “That’s right!” others cried.

“You are nothing like them,” Somar repeated.

“Please,” Taggart said, stepping down from the stage. The bodyguards fell in behind him, and some of the Blue Collar crowd gathered in his wake. “Enlighten us. How are we different? I worked in the same pits and tanks.” There were murmurs of appreciation from the crowd. “I scrubbed the same filth and grime.” More nods and sounds of agreement. “I sweated as they sweated and bled as they bled. So, my alien friend, how different am I from them? Is it because I rose in position and power, while they have been kept down, held down by their throats, in a world that sees them only as labor? As servants?”

Taggart was close now. His voice was powerful, and Somar knew that he had moved these people. As he had spoken, the crowd had calmed. They were rapt. They were watching their leader, one of their own who had risen to power.

“You are nothing like them,” Somar said again, “because these noble men and women would never betray their own for the sake of power.”

The crowd has already been quiet, but now they had gone positively silent. The only sound was the rustling of leaves, the gurgling of water in the pipes that led back to the river.

Taggart stared at Somar for a moment, his face tight and controlled. Then he smiled, “In what way, Somar, have I betrayed anyone? Far from betrayal, I have set my brothers free! They are no longer slaves to the tyranny of the ...”

“Of the colonists?” Somar asked, letting his own voice grow louder and more forceful. “Of the White Collars? Then why, Mr. Taggart, are they being held prisoner in a circle of armed men and women? Weren’t you one of them, when you arrived here? Weren’t you their leader when you first set foot on this soil?”

Taggart’s control slipped. His anger showed for the first time. “I have betrayed no one!” he said.

“You have betrayed us all!” Somar shouted. No one had ever heard the Esool captain raise his voice before. He had always been soft, quiet, commanding with his presence instead of the force of his will. And now, with his voice still ringing in the ears of the crowd, some of the Blue Collars lost heart. They dropped their stones and clubs and shards of metal and walked away from the crowd.

“No one!” Taggart yelled. “I have betrayed no one! These men and women, they are with me! They are family!”

“Family does not ask its members to doom themselves, Taggart. If you go through with this, if you harm these colonists, then all will be lost.”

Taggart laughed. “Oh, Somar. You have no idea. I have no intention of harming anyone! That is, as long as they accept their new role.”

“And what role is that?” Somar asked.

“As the workforce. It is time that my brothers and sisters were freed from the toil of daily life and allowed a chance to enjoy the finer trappings that these colonists have experienced. They will become the new ruling class, and their former masters will be the cogs for once. The rich elite have had it too easy for too long, and now it’s time they got their own hands dirty.”

Somar looked at the group of colonists, who were still surrounded and still fearful. “I must agree.”

Once again, the crowd fell silent, but this time, Taggart himself looked dumbfounded. His mouth opened slightly, and his eyes almost imperceptibly widened. “I ... I don’t ...”

“We find ourselves in a new situation. One we neither intended nor planned for. The old class distinctions, the division between men of wealth and men of service, are now gone. It is now time for all of us to work and toil. It is time for us to unify, not disperse into this ... division. This evil.”

Everyone present began murmuring then, even the prisoners at the center of the circle. Taggart’s expression had changed once again, but this time there was no joy in his eyes. His plan was finished. He had lost their hearts, and he would not have them again.

Somar still felt the situation was precarious. He would have to do something to ensure that the tension was released and that the prisoners were freed, never to be bothered again. The fear they would feel now would become the new dividing line. There would be no trust and, thus, no cooperation. And so, at this moment, Somar would have to do or say exactly the right words to make the colonists—
all
of the colonists of Citadel—into one unit again. Unfortunately, he had not the slightest notion of what he should say.

As it turned out, he wouldn’t have to say anything.

Suddenly, as if a button had been pushed, Taggart and all of the colonists cried out and dropped to the ground, as if they had each suffered a great pain in their heads. The Blue Collars and White Collars watched, along with Somar, as all of those who had been rescued from the stasis pods writhed for an instant, and then slowly began to collect themselves. They began to rise, and the commotion was loud and incomprehensible.

Taggart, who lay at Somar’s feet, had managed to get to his knees.

“Taggart, are you ill?” Somar asked.

Taggart said nothing.

Somar knelt beside him. The bodyguards stood back, unsure of what they should do. They were watching, bewildered, as the strangeness unfolded around them.

“Can I help you?” Somar asked. “Are you injured?”

Taggart looked up and met Somar’s gaze. The Esool Captain saw immediately that something was very wrong. The eyes before him belonged to Taggart, but the essence behind them did not. “Please,” the new man said. “I don’t know what has happened. I feel ... strange.”

Somar helped him to his feet. The man thanked him. “Where ... where is my wife?” he asked.

“Your wife? As far as I recall, you are not married.”

Taggart shook his head. “No, my wife’s name is Angela. Angela Alan. She was with me. She went into stasis at the same time I did.”

Somar looked into Taggart’s eyes and saw there that he was telling the truth. Which could mean only one thing. “Louis? Louis Alan?”

The man looked at him. There was a brief instant, a quick electric expression, that Somar thought might be Taggart, struggling to return. But it faded as quickly as it appeared, and the man before him stood a bit straighter. “Yes. I’m Louis Alan. I’m the Chief Science Officer of First Colony, from Earth. Please ... take me to my wife.”