Confrontation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 4) (2 page)

Marybeth counters his argument. “Yeah, but the days are like ninety hours long. That’s more than four days trying to hide from the sun and its poison.”

“We’ve been here more than a year, and we still have not explored beyond this little dome of ours. We need to get out and see this planet,” Luke says. “I need to see if that really was a city that Jake saw on the way in.” He can’t sit still. His leg bounces almost violently.

The conversation stops briefly while Sofie and I sit down. I grab a few carrots and some cucumber and tomato salad. Right now I’m not interested in exploring; I’m interested in wheat. I would kill for a piece of bread.

“Let’s schedule a departure then,” Mom says. “I have a feeling that Luke is going to be setting off whether we agree with him or not. Since each of us is important to our survival, let’s figure out what we can do to give him the best chance for success.” Mom doesn’t make too many rules, but this is one.

I would be interested to know what finally changed her mind. Perhaps she is just worn down to the point where she doesn’t want to fight it anymore?

“Maybe we can have a checkpoint where we reevaluate our preparedness,” Luke says, suddenly less sure of his insistence on exploring.

“Very well. Would each of you spend some time during this up session thinking about what an explorer on this planet will need to survive? Also, please give some thought as to what you may be able to offer that explorer in way of assistance.” Mom has tried to keep projects loose so no one can object too strongly. If they don’t like this idea, they can easily claim not to have come up with anything.

I spent the up session thinking about how to safely explore this planet. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it, but it is the first time I’ve worked to think about it. Some of us did okay when the containment field was out of commission. Radiation problems mostly came from being out on the water and totally exposed. Staying under the cover of the jungle offered a moderate amount of protection.

We could start with exploring all of the forested area. If we completed that project in our lifetimes, then we could plan more exploration.

What if the planet is randomly covered with jungle? It’s not a very robust exploration plan if we can’t continue through an open and arid landscape. Initially I came back to using one of the large leaves as a shield. That is flawed though; we’ve tried that, and it doesn’t work. The radiation reflects off the ground and then gets trapped under the leaf, making things worse.

If only we had brought space suits. This is the easy answer my brain wants to settle on and lament. From what I have read about the space suit technology we could have brought, they would have baked the explorer inside, anyway. Without cooling capabilities, the space suits would get up to over two hundred degrees inside. The battery packs could keep the mini air conditioner functioning for a few hours, but it would not be suited to a days’ or months’ long adventure. My depression allows negative thoughts to consume my brain.

Luke asked me for a small backpack version of my reactor once and that is probably the best idea. Unfortunately we still do not have the resources to build or even rebuild another reactor. There are two reactors in service for the village, one generating the containment field and the other providing electricity.  There is a third we call the “cold spare,” and it’s in the central cabin. I don’t think that even the people who think we are still on Earth would agree to let the cold spare walk out of the village.

I’ve decided that exploring the planet isn’t simply walking around looking at things. There are challenges and risks and multiple problems to solve. It is a new project for me to think about, and I like that. Before this, I never thought that mom would agree to let someone leave the village, so my exploration thoughts were not grounded in reality. I figured that when someone else gets elected to lead they may support the idea, but that doesn’t mean I would have to work on it.

Having a problem to solve, particularly one my mom supports, feels good. Getting my brain focused on how we combine things that we can do to accomplish something we currently cannot do brings positive thoughts into my head. Hopefully Sofie will notice my improved attitude and we can have a nice rest session.

As I look up from the tree I am working to cut down, I see Sofie and Cassandra talking over a row of beans. After some nodding, Cassandra shrugs her shoulders and smiles. Sofie puts her arms out and the two lean in for a quick hug. It looks like they are sharing good news and I hope it’s from Sofie.

Hurrying around the outside of the garden, I make my way to Sofie’s row and walk towards her. Hopefully the news is good—that I am going to be a father.

“Hey,” I call and smile big, expecting good news for the first time in weeks.

“Hey,” she answers with false joy.

Sofie is good at pretend happy, but she can’t fool me. I know when she’s putting on a smile to make someone else think she’s pleased. This is one of those times.

“You’re going to be an uncle again!” Cassandra blurts excitedly.

“Oh, ahh, congratulations.” I scratch my head and try to remember how old my nephew is.

“I never thought that I was going to be a mother. It just wasn’t something that was ever important to me,” Cassandra says. “Now that we kind of need to have children to rebuild our species, I can’t imagine not having kids.” She is still manipulative and cruel.

“Well we’re happy for both you and Liam,” I answer, knowing that Sofie may likely break into tears.

“Speaking of having children, Marybeth and Sarah have proposed trying to diversify the gene pool a little more,” Cassandra says, a hint of question in her voice.

“I think biology is going to make us wait for that. When this group of kids is old enough to have their own kids, we can start to deal with who is allowed to date who.” I don’t want to think about arranging a marriage for a child I haven’t even conceived yet.

“They are more thinking along the lines of our age group,” she says. “Sarah said that we should start by changing up pairs that aren’t working.” Then she shrugs and walks away.

What a bitch for leaving us with that. She thinks that I should let another man try to get Sofie pregnant. There probably never was a conversation between Sarah and Marybeth; this is Cassandra manipulating again. 

“There’s nothing we can do about her, so let’s just ignore it,” Sofie says softly, before walking away.

Back at the central cabin for lunch, there is another full group conversation going on.

Mike has his hands up defensively. He’s saying, “All I’m saying is that if the burden is on the women to keep getting pregnant and having children, it makes sense to me that they should be the ones making most of the decisions.”

“Having children is a big enough burden. We don’t need to ask them to mediate everything else that goes on,” David replies, more confident of his position.

“Maybe the fact that you guys make everything so complicated points to the logic of having women in charge.” Marybeth is teasing but sincere.

“I’m confused about why we need to specify. Aren’t we all equally qualified to lead?” Grace says, injecting her own sense of fairness into the discussion.

We are faced with another interesting inflection point. Throughout history, societies have been either matriarchal or patriarchal; which are we going to be?

On Earth, we were taught that women and men were equal. A woman could do any job a man could do. In my seventeen years, I never saw anything that would prove that incorrect.

Here on Locus, though, it’s a little different. When it comes to purely providing for people, the men are doing more. We spend more time in the fields harvesting, we carry more loads of food back to the central cabin, and we have done the bulk of the construction work.

Being a modern man, I can see that the women were instrumental in the garden layout and planting, which is having a positive impact on the yield. They also do most of the canning work to preserve the vegetables so that we will have food when there is a lull in the crop production or a change of seasons.

Neither sex is superior; we have different strengths. The problems come with the nuances of surviving and expanding. The women need more nutrition than the men; they’re eating for two.

One of the guys has pushed a few times to put men on rations and give the women extra food. Healthy women have healthy children that can grow up strong and help continue our species. The logic is reasonable, though maybe not perfect.

Most of the women refused and Sofie made a point that what she eats is none of his business. His point was that if we are collectively responsible for the continuation of humans, then it kind of
is
his business.

Jane is still finding her voice and position in the group. She says, “I think that we are doing well managing as a group. The fact that men and women can discuss it together is a step forward from the history that I recall. But let’s keep rules to a minimum as long as we can.”

I wish a sociologist had been with us. There must have been some studies done that show how large a group can get before they need to add structure. Of course there will be an informal structure even in a group of two, but at what point do we need formal rules and defined leadership?

We still number twenty-one adults. The numbers can conceivably get smaller, if we note that there are nine couples and Henry, Jane and Rich. I would like to say that the couples agree on any single issue, but I know from experience that is not the case.

It will be fifteen years until we have another adult, and then our numbers will expand significantly. If we double in population, is that when we need to have more formal rules and leadership structure? Right now I feel like thirty-four adults could work out most situations among themselves.

“I disagree,” Luke says. “What if Paddrick decides he’s tired of bringing food over for breakfast? How do we decide who will take over that role? And who decides what he will be asked to do as a replacement for that task?” He is pointing out problems that don’t exist.

“We figure it out,” Mom says. “It’s like any team you’ve ever been a part of. If you see something that needs doing but isn’t getting done, do it. If you can’t do it, ask for help. But if there are tasks here that you think are important but are not willing to do them yourself, I advise that you keep your mouth shut. We all have our own stuff to deal with and no one, NO ONE, needs someone else adding to their list.” She is nearing the end of her rope and snaps the last few words.

Some days feel so normal I actually forget that we’re not on Earth. While I have been thinking about how to get Luke enough protection to explore outside of the containment field, I had an idea for refrigeration.

I’m convinced that the only reasonable way to explore safely is with a portable containment field. There is a spare reactor on the space plane at the bottom of the lake. Grace is the only one who has been down there, but seeing as she is pregnant now, there is no way we are asking her to go out there again.

As the reigning king of logic jumps, this helped me to solve three challenges we have been facing: how to explore beyond the containment field, how to re-invent refrigeration, and salvaging the space plane.

The only reason Grace was able to retrieve the pedal generator and get back to the surface was by using the air pocket trapped in the space plane. As a result of her using it, the air pocket is depleted or possibly not even there anymore. How do we get a new air bubble down into the space plane?

Easy, pump some air down. But we do not have piping or tubing to use for this. Both of the C-5’s have been picked clean. Anything resembling plumbing or a pipe has been pressed into service to irrigate the garden. I can be a dreamer but there is no way I would dream of asking to use any of those resources so we can help someone leave.

So how do I manufacture pipes? Knowing that the sun’s radiation and the water combined create a foundry for the rock, we can extrude pipes using gravity. I’ve been knocking off the rust from my math skills calculating how much material I need to extrude a pipe that is one inch in diameter, one hundred feet long, and with a one sixty-fourth of an inch thick wall.

I’ll conduct a few tests, but I know the process will work. We’ve cut stones at the quarry using this logic, and in the back of my mind I can see the extrusion process. The trickiest part is putting together the template to make sure that the shape coming out the other side is correct. At times I wish I had played with Play-Doh as a kid. It will be so cool to watch the length of pipe magically grow beneath the life raft while I sit there. 

The other problem this will solve is refrigeration, sort of. Grace said that the water down by the space plane was cold. It’s probably a relative thing, but I expect that it is much cooler than the air. Seeing how building pipe is going to be easy, I’ll extrude enough to run it all the way back to the village. We can line the root cellar we’ve dug with pipes with the cold lake water running through them. It will be like a natural refrigerator.

On top of it all, the process is going to be quick enough that I can get it done in a way that the sun won’t poison me while I make pipes. We’re about to take a nice leap forward. I think maybe the human race
does
need me after all.

This rest session was the best I have had in months. Having projects for my brain helps me sleep. It also makes the manual labor go by much faster. I’ve been able to carve out some time from the meal sessions and the rest sessions to conduct tests on my extrusion process. It’s flawless.

I have support from Mom and Dad to go out during the next work session and build a few lengths of pipe. The challenge I’m struggling with now is how long to make each pipe. I’m going to make a few connectors, but I would rather not have them if I can help it. Dad has cautioned me to make the pipes a length reasonable for us to work with. A hundred-foot length of pipe may break or bend, and it could be too awkward for us to lift.

“Seamus?” Sofie snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Hey,” I answer her, according to our routine.

“Have you been up long?” She smiles warmly.

“No, actually I just woke up. I slept so well last night,” I say, deviating from my norm of lying.

“I know you did, I watched. You really love solving problems in your head, don’t you?” she asks.

“I do,” I say. “It feels so good to have something to think about while we’re doing the manual labor. When I can set my mind to a tricky problem before I close my eyes, my sleep is fantastic.” My excitement is clear.

“You were never that excited about having a baby though,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“Come on, that’s not fair,” I immediately rebut, though I haven’t even thought if she’s right.

“It is fair, and it’s true,” she insists. “Liam and Cassandra try all the time. I swear they’re still trying and she’s pregnant! You’re always too tired or too wound up or just not in the mood. When it does happen, it’s fine but it doesn’t feel like we’re trying for a baby.” She’s on edge.

“I don’t really know what to say,” I answer, sadly.

“You are unreal. You can invent space warp and a solar sail and you can build a containment shield to protect us from deadly radiation but you don’t know what to say to your girlfriend about not being interested in sex?” She’s over the edge and angry.

“I never said I wasn’t interested in sex,” I answer, factually.

Sofie is past crying. “Yes you did, by not saying you were. Look, maybe we don’t work together. I love you, but as I’ve said before, there’s always something else. When there isn’t anything else, it still isn’t me!”

A scream from the Boulevard interrupts us. I don’t recognize it—I suppose it’s a good thing that I don’t know what most people’s screams sound like. Sofie scrambles out of bed and rushes to the doorway. I sit and watch her.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asks before turning and charging out the door.

Her initial reaction is to go and help other people. Mine is to sit and wait and see. Her reaction is right and mine is wrong, but how can I change?

Deliberately getting to my feet, I start for the door. In my heart I don’t really care about whatever drama this person is sharing with us all. They probably have some minor injury or were simply startled and don’t have enough composure to deal with it internally.

At the door I pause and consider stopping to get a bottle of water. Staying hydrated is important and I am working on developing that habit.

“SEAMUS!” Sofie screams and I would have recognized that even if she hadn’t said my name.

I burst out the door and sprint toward the central cabin. On Earth I was not athletic and running was not something I did well or for long. The manual labor I have been contributing here on Locus has me fit and surprisingly fast.

As I turn the corner onto the Boulevard, I am met square in the chest with a blunt force. My feet continue forward as my torso remains behind and in a blur I am laying on my back.

My thoughts are scrambled. What hit me? Why can’t I breathe? Is Sofie okay? How are my eyes still open and registering the sky and leaves above me?

“Did you see that?” Luke asks, kneeling beside me and looking off in the distance.

“Nnnnnnnn,” I force out weakly. Without air in my lungs, I can’t speak and strain to make the faintest of noises

Luke begins to rise but I grab his wrist. If I am dying, I do not want to be alone. Where is Sofie? Is she okay?

“Looks like you had the wind knocked out of you,” Luke says and kneels back down beside me.

I can remember seeing it happen to someone on one of my brother’s sports teams. Dad told me it feels like you’re going to die but you aren’t. The trick is to relax and your breathing will return to normal.

Relaxing when you cannot get oxygen into your lungs is probably easier said than done.

Luke lifts both of my arms up over my head. “Easy,” he says in a compassionate tone.

After a few minutes, my breathing returns. My chest is sore and I am scared but I know that I will be fine. It was not the running that caused the problem but my mind now associates the act with having the wind knocked out of me. Regardless of how fit I am now; I will not run full speed ever again.

“So you touched it. What was it like up close?” Luke asks as he helps me to my feet.

“Touched what?” I ask, confused.

“The thing that wrecked the central cabin and scared the daylights out of Sonjia. Don’t tell me you didn’t even see it?” he asks, somewhat amused. 

“Where’s Sofie?” My mind is slowly clearing.

“I left her with Sonjia so I could give chase. Whatever it was is
fast
.” Luke has an amazed look of wonder in his eyes.

Without responding, I start slowly walking toward the central cabin—and, more importantly, toward Sofie. I can think about a creature after I’ve confirmed that Sofie is okay. Once again, though, it seems like a bad time for me to be working on our relationship.

When we get around to the front of the cabin, the first thing I see is a frightened Sonjia sitting in the dirt. Sofie is next to her holding her hand and stroking her hair. My girlfriend is a natural caregiver and would be an excellent mother.

“Thanks for coming,” Sofie growls up at me.

“I found this one flat on his back,” Luke jumps in, trying to diffuse the tension. “Looks like he gets to claim first contact, literally.”

“You touched it?” Sonjia asks in shock.

“More like
it
touched me, I think,” I answer. “But I didn’t know it was a thing. I didn’t see anything except a dark blur.” I shake my head, upset that I wasn’t more aware.

“So why were you laying down?” Sofie is not letting me off the hook.

“Whatever it was hit me in the center of the chest while I was running full speed toward you. The wind was knocked out of me and I couldn’t breathe for like five minutes. Luke stopped chasing it to help me.” I don’t want to sound defensive, but I can’t help it.

“You’re not the only thing it hit,” Sonjia says, and points toward the cabin.

Turning to look at the central cabin, I am astounded by the damage. The roof has a gaping hole and most of the front wall is in pieces on the ground. The floor is buckled but may be salvageable.

The real bad news is on the inside. Most of the jars of food we had stored are broken and leaking. The fruits and vegetables we’ve been trying to dry and preserve are mixed into the mess and are likely ruined. Not only is our stock of food depleted, our ability to store food is severely diminished.

Most of the others have arrived by now and are surveying the damage more closely. Seeing a piece of broken glass up close does not change the fact that it is broken. I’m satisfied staying here with Sofie and Sonjia.

“So what did it look like?” Sofie asks Sonjia.

“Big. Maybe eight feet tall?
Six
arms or legs, I don’t know what to call them. The thing was standing on the back four legs and using its front two legs to bang on the cabin.” She shivers at the memory.

“What color was it?” Luke asks, trying to rationalize what he saw with her description.

“When I got here it was like a light caramel color. I think it noticed me and changed color to almost black. When it took off running, I would swear it was almost merlot colored, real dark purple.” I can see her searching her memory for details.

“Was it hairy or feathery or…” Sofie trails off, not knowing other types of body coverings to describe.

“Scaly?” Sonjia offers, but does not seem confident.

“Do you think it threatened you in any way?” I want to shift our thoughts toward the threat level.

“I don’t know. I walked around the corner, and when I saw it destroying the cabin, I screamed. It turned to look at me, kind of, and then it took off. It had to run at me a few steps to get clear of the cabin, but I don’t think it was attacking.” Sonjia replies slowly, carefully painting a picture, her focus on Luke.

“If everyone is okay, I think we should have a quick meeting to talk about what this means.” Mom has joined our little circle and is restoring order.