“Not exactly a quiet day, eh, medic?”
Cij looked up at Madivo and smiled.
“No, sir.”
Ship’s comms trilled again, and a man’s voice announced, “All crew, prepare for gravity. All crew prepare for gravity!”
Madivo snorted and plucked an injector from Cij’s tray.
“And it’s not over with yet,” he said, grimly.
* * * * *
“Power is at eighty percent, First Engineer.”
Vetew nodded and glanced at his own display for confirmation.
“System status?”
“System is at seventy percent, sir.”
“Any spasms?” asked Vetew.
“No, First Engineer.
All my readings are ice-blue.”
“Good,” murmured Vetew.
“Keep an eye on them.”
* * * * *
“First Officer?”
Zetajo turned.
“Yes, Evuto?”
“We’re getting a message from the
Dawnwind
, sir.”
She broke into a broad smile.
“They say it looks like the reset worked, sir!”
“Thank the pantheon,” muttered Zetajo.
“Evuto, contact Fleet Officers Hepiniv and Lujo.
Let them know the status of the
Dawnwind
.”
He raised his voice, addressing the shadowed command. “And somebody find First Engineer Sul!”
Zetajo glared into the dark. “Let’s at least get the lights back on!”
* * * * *
“So you worked yourself into a frenzy the other morning for nothing,” said Otup.
He sounded smug.
Kami lay on her back, and rolled her eyes.
“Jote, reach over and give Otup a good pinch for me.”
“Of course, heartsong,” came Jote’s placid response.
“Where should I pinch him?”
“No one is going to be pinching anyone,” said Otup. “Unless someone wants to sleep alone.”
Kami laughed.
“Well, someone is playing rough!”
“Our dear Otup doesn’t realize that I’ll just get him when he’s least expecting it,” said Jote.
“Merciful pantheon! I hope Bemi doesn’t gang up on me like you two!”
Kami raised an eyebrow.
“Who’s Bemi?”
“You know Bemi, heartsong,” said Jote.
“The skinny girl who lives up the street with the red hair down to her hips.
She’s going to be our new housemate.”
“Jote! She’s just a child!”
Otup laughed.
“She finished her lifechange four months ago, Kami!
“Really?”
“Really,” said Jote.
“And Bemi’s not coming alone.
She’s bringing an aunt with her.”
“So we’ll have a full house for the first time in ages,” said Otup, merrily.
“What about you, heartsong?” asked Jote.
His tone was solicitous.
“Are you meeting people? Are your bedmates nice?”
Kami laughed.
“I’ve just got the one so far, and Fel is sweet.
You’d both like him.”
“Only one bedmate?” Otup sounded vaguely shocked.
“So far,” said Kami.
“We’ll be picking up more crew offworld, so Fel and I will probably get a third.”
“I will never understand the military lifestyle,” said Otup.
“But you’re not lonely, are you, Kami?” asked Jote.
“No,” she said.
“Far from it.
I’m meeting new crewmates every day, and since we’re still at Doorstep there isn’t a lot for any of us to do but get to know one another.”
“Did they ever find the troublemaker who launched the rogue agent?” asked Otup.
“If they have, they haven’t told me,” said Kami.
“All I know is that we’ve had specialists crawling all over the ship the last three days, going through our systems.
Our techs are going crazy!”
“Do you know when you’re leaving yet?” asked Jote.
“Tomorrow,” said Kami.
“1600 hours.
Then we’re off to the Colonies!”
“Enjoy yourself, heartsong,” said Jote.
“But be safe.
We expect you to come home!”
“I’ll do my best,” said Kami.
* * * * *
John stepped into the arboretum and smiled.
In the last few days, Specialist Nozeta had transformed the vast chamber. To his left, the flower-trees from his first visit stood with a variety of other trees, all of them standing in neatly spaced rows, like soldiers waiting for an inspection.
On his right lay rows of potted plants being diligently attended to by specialists.
The wallscreens had been set to display a pastoral scene, enhancing the illusion that the arboretum was actually outdoors.
John saw the orchard apparently continuing into the distance, skirting the edge of a primeval forest.
Checkered hills sloped away into a false horizon.
The sky was a perfect sheet of blue, the sun a blazing eye.
In the simulated east, John could see Momi Nu, the little moon, drifting lazily above the horizon.
He drew a breath and smelt rain on the simulated breeze.
“What do you think, First?”
John turned, saw that Nozeta had joined him.
The scientist wore dark green coveralls, with dirt on the knees.
He looked pleased.
“It’s marvelous.
You’ve outdone yourself, specialist.”
“Thank you, sir.”
John glanced at the flower-trees.
“Have you released your pollinators yet?”
Nozeta chuckled. “No, sir.
Not yet.
Specialist Nep is holding them in stasis until our trees are further along.”
He went on to give John a brief tour of the plants.
There was an impressive variety: food plants, medicinal plants, a tree whose every part could provide sustenance, a collection of genetically engineered fungi.
John’s head was spinning with new information when his comm chirped.
“Excuse me,” murmured John.
Turning away, he tapped his earpiece.
“This is Epcott.”
“John Epcott.”
The voice was synthesized, or manipulated to the point where it sounded blatantly artificial.
“You are being watched.”
John frowned.
“Excuse me?
Who is this?”
“A friend,” said the voice.
“That is all you need to know.
That and to be aware that you are under scrutiny.”
“By who?” Epcott demanded, but there was no response.
The caller had broken the connection.
“Is everything all right, First?”
Nozeta asked.
“Everything’s fine.
A bad comm, that’s all.”
John waved at the plants.
“You were explaining about the fungi.”
Nozeta launched into a long and complex history of genetically engineered mushrooms.
John listened with half an ear, nodding in the appropriate places, but his mind was elsewhere.
I’m being watched, he thought.
By who?
For what?
John waited until Nozeta had completed his lecture, then made his excuses and left the arboretum.
His good mood was spoiled and he couldn’t stop thinking about the mystery caller’s words.
You are being watched.
Frowning, he wondered what was going on.
* * * * *
Fleet Officer Lujo removed the encrypted comm from behind his ear and tossed it into a recycler port.
Behind him, the observation parlor was filling up as guardsmen came off their duty shifts.
Lujo ignored the merrymakers and looked at the image of
Dawnwind
, filling the wallscreen.
Well, Epcott, I’ve done everything I can for you, thought Lujo.
You know you’re being watched.
The rest is up to you.
To Be Continued
in
Dawnwind: Resurrection
(2013)
Dear Reader,
Thanks for downloading my book.
Did you love it? Hate it?
I’d love to hear what you thought of it.
Please rate it at Amazon.
Thanks!
George R. Shirer
About the Author:
George R. Shirer was born and raised in South Carolina, but has lived in Alaska, Ohio, Virginia and Washington, D.C.
Highlights from his life include a brief career as a professional fortuneteller, testifying in an honest-to-God murder trial and accidentally peeing on a bear.
Recently, George returned to his native South Carolina to pursue a career as a writer.
However, he thinks he spends far more time staring at his computer screen than actually writing.
Dawnwind: Last Man Standing
is his first full-length novel.
# # #
Other Works by the Author:
Capetales
The Death of Faith
Firekeeper
The Finishers
Hellbound on the Sugar Train
Surprise Vignettes
# # #
Connect With the Author Online:
http://grshirer.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/#!/grshirer