Colony One (3 page)

“Lieutenant Dilyn, can you share with us your thoughts on this historic voyage?”

The cameras focused on her as she pulled her shoulders back to stand taller, “With respect, I am not a lieutenant anymore. I’m here for a new beginning.” She explained with a tight smile and as diplomatically as she could muster; then cast a glance at Luca.

He read her plea and wouldn’t have required much prompting to jump in anyway, “Me too!” He exclaimed, causing the cameras to pan away from Alexa. “I’m here to make all my family and friends proud. What we’re doing is important and necessary for humankind.”

Off camera, Richardson beamed. He had wanted to script responses from the last passengers from Colony One, but instead the EMP had settled on simply hand picking the last group to board. The majority of the Partnership thought it would be better if the answers seemed sincere and unique. He was grateful Niko had jumped in for Dilyn, who was not living up to his expectations of being an enthusiastic nationalist.

The reporter commended him on his statement and moved down the row of passengers, each expressing excitement and varying levels of patriotism to follow Luca’s cue.

Ndale spoke of doing his part to keep the merchant tradition alive on the Colony Alpha. Anivashak explained that he refrained from making expectations about the journey, instead deciding to keep his mind open to all possibilities.

Just as they were reaching the woman with the dark silk hair, Richardson cut in – “Look here, the Captain has chosen to make an appearance.” He gestured to the loading ramp to a spry, curly haired woman striding down towards them. Her chestnut hair was pulled back, but defiant curls wisped with the breeze. She smiled broadly and waved as Richardson acknowledged her. Her flight suit was brand new, zippered all the way to the neck. She portrayed the image of professionalism and young exuberance all at once.

The newsman tapped his glass tablet and nodded, “Ah yes, Captain Skylar Fairfield.” He remarked and caught the attention of a camera. “Captain Fairfield was chosen from a long list of applicants who competed to pilot this one of a kind ship, Colony One. Congratulations, Captain,” He greeted her as she arrived and the passengers contributed with an enthusiastic round of applause. When it quieted down, he asked, “What is going through your head as you’re just hours away from breaking orbit?”

“I am just happy to see the stars for myself!” Skylar smiled widely. “I, like many of my passengers, grew up in a place where stars were something we only knew about from watching the viewer. I’ve dreamed of this my whole life, worked for this my whole life and I could not be more proud, or happier, to be the person who helps to write the next chapter of the human narrative.”

“Well said.” Richardson praised and more applause followed.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a schedule to keep and I cannot let you hold my passengers hostage any longer!” Skylar clapped her hand onto the shoulder of a nearby passenger.

Richardson nodded in agreement, “Then allow me these parting words. I know that I speak for all of us when I say that we wish you a safe journey and boundless prosperity.”

Journalists and passengers alike cheered his words while Alexa studied Richardson – not because he was handsome or charismatic – but because there was something about him that made her uneasy. Or perhaps the reality of the situation had just hit her and she was beginning to feel the grip of anxiety she had been pushing down since she got the acceptance notice. She shook her head in an attempt to chase off the feeling.

For better or worse, this was the last day of her old life as she knew it.

03

Earth: Present Day

EMP Headquarters, Task Force Mission Briefing

Five people sat staggered in stadium style seating of a small room with dim lighting. They faced a large viewer that was darkened on standby mode. In front it, a man in full gray dress uniform addressed the room.

“Good morning, team, and welcome. Each one of you has been selected to comprise the task force responsible for locating and gathering the status of Earth’s Colony Alpha. This a joint initiative on the part of the Confederation and the newly formed coalition of Citizen’s United. As you can gather by your presence here today, the Confederation has chosen to recognize Citizen’s United as a legitimate body and are working diplomatically with the group.” He paused, and then added with some displeasure in his tone, “Despite some violence that has resulted from their organized gatherings.”

The man straightened his uniform as he returned to a more neutral tone, “Allow me to first thank you all for agreeing to take on this assignment and for your commitment to this mission. My name is Lieutenant Commander David Whitmore. Before we begin the formal briefing, let us have some introductions.”

The Lieutenant Commander extended his hand to the woman sitting in the front row, “Margret Avery, Confederation contractor, will be the Mission Leader. She has been given the commission rank of Captain for this initiative.” Avery clasped her hands together on the small glass desk attached to the chair and acknowledged Whitmore’s words with a slight nod. Her straightened raven black hair just touched her shoulders and since she didn’t turn to face the others, her silhouette was all they had to go on for the initial introduction.

Whitmore pivoted slightly to gesture to the man sitting a row up and over from Avery, “Charles Foster, commercial freight pilot for the Mars Mining Corporation. He’ll make sure you stay on your flight path.” Charles lifted his chin and raised a stylus for his glass OMNI tablet in way of saying hello. His skin was remarkably tan for his line of work – he could have easily been taken for an outdoor laborer with his good ol’ boy smile and light brown hair.

“Niko Andris,” Whitmore moved on. “Astronomer and navigational specialist. He’ll make sure you know what your flight path is.” As his name would suggest, Niko’s features were distinctly Greek – his black hair, when left to its own devices, would curl into ringlets and his nose had the distinct profile that his people carried since ancient times. Niko let a flicker of a smile pull at his lips as the others turned and nodded to him. He nodded back. Niko had pulled a lot of strings to land himself in that room. As he saw the faces that turned to regard him, he vaguely wondered how they had been chosen. His bank account had been drained from the volume of bribes and hush money necessary to land him there.

Whitmore moved across the room, gesturing to a woman with short cropped hair and a rigid posture. “Makenna Krasnov joins us from Old Russia as one of their top engineers. She’ll make sure the ship stays in top condition.

“Last, but not least, Doctor Winston Waltham, who will ensure your physical and mental health needs are accounted for on the long journey to Colony Alpha and back.”

“A pleasure to be here,” Winston took a small, seated bow that easily matched his English brogue. Niko noticed the man seemed to be perspiring – made even more evident by his receding hair line. Waltham was older than the rest – mid to late forties by the look of him – had a slight gut, but was otherwise fit.

“You will also be joined by a photographer and documentary specialist Finn Connolly who is flying in from the Nepal region today and will be joining the team shortly before launch.” Whitmore explained and turned towards the viewer. He tapped the bottom right corner and the screen came to life.

“The Confederation has agreed to assign the scout ship Hyperion to this mission.” A schematic of the ship rotated on the screen, “Ms. Krasnov has already been given specifications and access to the ship to ensure her familiarity with it. Any initial assessments, Ms. Krasnov?”

“It will do,” the woman responded curtly and without hesitation.

Whitmore’s eyebrows rose, “Well, I’ll take that as high praise from Old Russia.”

Makenna shrugged as if to say,
sure – if that helps you sleep at night
.

The briefing continued and the five used the glass writing desks to make notes. Since all glass technology was designed to interface with bio-stamps, the notes automatically transferred to the user’s personal OMNI device. It was a seamless kind of technology that divided many – some thinking it a blessing, others a curse.

Whitmore finished his presentation, deactivated the viewer and turned his attention back to the group. “Any questions?”

“Yea,” Foster spoke up, drawing out the word in a way only someone from the South could. “What do we need her for if you’ve got me to fly the ship?” He pointed to Avery, who had still not turned to face the group.

The Lieutenant Commander stiffened slightly, “As you may or may not know, Citizen’s United has insisted this not be a purely military mission. Assigning Captain Avery was a compromise that both sides could accept. She has the final say in mission decisions.”

“I’m sure you’re used to being in charge on your little barge, Charlie Foxtrot,” Avery finally spoke up, turning to face him with an amused smirk. Her eyes were hawkish in contrast to her other features, which were deceptively soft and inviting, “but this is a different boat altogether.”

“First off, it’s Foster, but my friends do call me Charlie.” He winked at her, unfazed. “Second, it’s not a barge, Sir, it’s a freighter. And yea, I run it just fine.”

“If you can’t handle the chain of command, Foster, say so now so we can let the second choice candidate prep for tomorrow’s jump.” Whitmore’s public-relations friendly exterior crumbled slightly as his patience thinned.

Charlie shook his head, “Nah. I’m good.”

Niko tapped his desk off and looked up to regard the room, “I have a question.” Whitmore nodded, conceding the floor. “What do we do if a colonist wants to return to Earth?”

Whitmore blinked – visibly stumped for a long moment, “These people know what they signed up for - a one-way trip.”

“We wouldn’t have enough fuel to transport additional weight back to Earth, anyway.” Avery cut in.

“It’s a logical question.” Niko reasoned.

Whitmore sighed, “Indeed it is. It is one of the reasons it was decided early on that there would not be regular transports between the colonies. The cost alone would be astronomical and would jeopardize the success of the colony.”

“It’s just one of the many reasons you need me,” Avery flashed a smile at Charles before turning to face forward again as she finished, “to make the hard decisions and be the bad guy if necessary.” Whitmore nodded in agreement.

“Excuse me,” The Doctor held up a finger. “All this time we’ve been talking about Colony Alpha. What about Colony Beta?” He asked and looked around to gauge the interest of the rest of the room. Colonies One and Three had been charted to go to Colony Alpha. Colonies Two and Four were to be sent to Colony Beta, a nearby planet that was also found to be habitable. The idea was that since Earth’s population had grown so enormously, colonizing both planets would be easy. It also supported the idea of a possible interplanetary trade network.

Preparations for the launch of Colonies Two and Three had been undertaken simultaneously, just three months after Colony One. The Fourth mission was set to begin three months after that, but with public approval ratings of the mission being so dismal, the date had been missed – potentially postponed indefinitely unless the Confederation could quell the fears and questions regarding the earlier missions.

“One expedition at a time, Mr. Waltham.” Whitmore answered, effectively dodging the question. “Now, if there is nothing else, everyone is dismissed.” He announced abruptly to the group, and then turned his attention to Avery, “Except for you.”

A few moments passed without objection so the room emptied – save for the Captain and Lieutenant Commander. When she was sure the heavy briefing room door was completely closed, Avery let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, “Great, you’ve assigned a simpleton as our pilot.”

“Big picture, Captain Avery.” Whitmore assured and started in on the Mission Leader brief.

04

One Year Ago

Colony One Take Off

The sound of Colony One’s massive engines engulfed the launch site for kilometers around the coastal area. Onlookers wore ear and eye protection as they watched the lumbering giant vibrate with the effort of initiating the thrusters that lined its underbelly. It raised above the ground enough to propel itself forward, into the Atlantic Ocean.

The crowd held its breath and a collective nervousness was palatable. Many ships had been constructed and launched into space – but none the size, scale and specifications of Colony One. The reality of the situation was that no one was certain it would work.

Water sprayed up and boiled as the thrusters hit it. The massive ship hovered just above the water line for a moment before the blue light of the thrusters increased one-hundred fold and the ship elevated so quickly that it appeared to be lighter than air. Involuntary gasps sounded at the rapid ascent. After it gained enough altitude, aft thrusters burned bright and the ship engaged in a gradual lateral climb that would take it through the stratosphere and into space. The cheering lasted long after Colony One was out of sight – a mixture of joy and jubilant disbelief that it could be done.

“Confirmed, mission control – we have successfully broken orbit, and our first heading has been entered. Colony One, setting sail.” Skylar spoke and her voice transmitted cleanly back to Earth for the whole world to hear. In the background of the connection, more cheers rose up.

“Copy that, Colony One. Happy sailing.” A disembodied voice spoke over the merriment.

Skylar’s finger hovered over a symbol on the interface. She hesitated so that she could soak in the joyous sound of their success and the happy send-off. Finally, she tapped the symbol and all was silent.

“Well done, Captain.” Skylar’s copilot and First Officer, Patrick Reid, congratulated. He beamed as he looked out the view screen at the incredible view of space. His dark brown eyes reflected the stars back out and he ran a hand through short, curly russet locks as he drank it in. He had a soft face and softer hands – having grown up in privilege. Tired of living in his father’s shadow and intent to make a name for himself, he’d pursued flight training as soon as heard about the Colony missions.

The Captain joined him in gazing at the unbelievable view from the cockpit – stars marked the way forward, bright and vibrant and more than she could have possibly expected. Her hands were shaking from the excitement of the launch and the sight of space unencumbered by pollution or the limitations of a viewer made her eyes glassy as she soaked in the sight. 

Finally, she responded; “Don’t break out the bubbly just yet.” Despite her words, Skylar could not hide her smile or her excitement. She blinked hard and refocused on her role, “We’ve got a long way to go! Take over for me, will you? I want to check in with the passengers.”

“If you insist,” Patrick rubbed his hands together and regarded the console in front of him. He tapped the surface in multiple spots and agreeable tones sounded from the audio system.

Skylar unbuckled herself, clapped him on the shoulder and made the short walk to the cockpit hatch that had been closed for the launch. While opening it had been difficult on Earth, she found it all too easy to do so now. The artificial gravity was enough to keep her and her passengers with their feet firmly on the decking, though it made everything a lot lighter in general. Artificial gravity could only do so much.

She stepped down the ladder and touched the communications panel at the base of the steps. She routed her message ship wide, “Passengers of Colony One, this is your Captain. We have successfully broken orbit and will be engaging our long range engines. Congratulations, everyone – we did it!” She exclaimed in a discernibly non-Captain manner. “You are now free to make yourselves at home.” She finished and tapped the panel to stop communication before she began navigating her way through the nose section to the passenger hold.

From the amazing girth of the vessel as seen from the exterior, one might imagine the interior to be large and expansive. Instead, Colony One was sectioned off into a several decks connected by ladders and hatches that made walking the length of the ship seem more like navigating a maze. The only large expanse that could be found was in the cargo hold where the passengers had entered at the rear loading ramp. Each deck was designated by color with similar accommodations for each group. The layered approach eased the boarding process and brought some organization to the chaos that was twelve-thousand people on a ship.

Skylar knew the ship like she knew her childhood home – every nook, every passageway, and every compartment. Her goal was to find the nearest passenger deck and begin the process of getting to know the passengers for whom she was responsible. She, like the others, had only been acquainted with the others for the first time that day with the exception of some crew members, like Patrick and a few other designated ground pilots for when they arrived on Colony Alpha. She had the pleasure of knowing them for the past week. As she traversed a catwalk, she unzipped her flight suit enough so it wasn’t up to her neck. She smiled to herself, feeling both proud and humbled.

Skylar had intended for the walk to be a leisurely stroll to enjoy the euphoria of the moment, but the euphoric moment was cut short as she found her steps quickened by the sound of voices rising up in the distance. They did not sound joyous.

She rounded the entrance to the large room of the first set of living quarters. The ceiling opened up because of the requirements of the function of the room – there were rectangular compartments cut out of the bulkhead with mattresses inserted into them. There were three platforms and each platform held two bunks vertically. The platforms were accessible by a ladder that extended from floor to ceiling every ten meters. They lined the entire expanse of the compartment – twenty along the length of the walls and ten across the back wall that was perpendicular to the entrance. It had a distinct honeycomb look to it. Skylar noticed many bunks already had bags or clothing placed on them. The whole compartment was a mess of strewn bags and people – the noise they made collectively intensified by the echo of the room.

In the middle of the compartment, long steel dining hall tables and benches were bolted to the floor. A group of people were circled along one side of them with some commotion coming from the middle of the mass.

“I was here first!” Skylar heard a man’s voice insist.

“I don’t see no name tags on these bunks!” A woman’s voice countered.

“Please, let’s be reasonable…” a third voice tried to mediate, but it wasn’t working. A collective motion took over the circle of people, as some stepped back and others moved forward. Sounds of a scuffle rose up and Skylar acted on instinct, rushing into the fray.

“Hey!” She shouted, pulling people out of the way. “HEY!” She tried again when she made it to the center to see a woman gripping a tuft of shortly cropped hair of a man who had picked her up. A third man was trying to separate them.

At the Captain’s appearance, the woman released the grip on his hair and the man promptly dropped her. She might have fallen, but the third man stabilized her.

“What’s going on here?” Skylar asked as the two offenders stared at her wide-eyed. They recognized her immediately from the orientation content as the Captain.

The man was quick to speak up, “This –” he spoke a word in Spanish that did not sound friendly, “moved my things and tried to take the bunk I had chosen.” His chest rose and fell with fervor – the woman’s decision to challenge the man was risky considering his stature – easily 6’4” with strong forearms and large hands that were balled up in frustration. He clenched his jaw, which was already pronounced with day old stubble showing.

“Your bag was on the ground!” The woman insisted, pointing to the spot beside the bunk. “And then he shoved me!” She exclaimed, the offense renewed in her mind. She took an angry step towards the man but was restrained by the impromptu mediator. Her long, curly hair was a mess with the scuffle and her high, round cheekbones were pink even through her caramel skin tone. She craned her neck to look up at the man and glared without reservation.

The man’s anger flared, too, “I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t started screaming in my face!”

Skylar held out her hands, “Alright, let’s stop for a minute. First – sir, what is your name?” She asked.

The man looked stunned for a moment – clearly unsure why she cared. “Demetri,” he finally offered.

“Miss – your name?”

“Lucinda,” she answered timidly after a pause.

“And you sir,” Skylar pointed to the man who seemed to be the referee. “What is your name?”

“Javier,” he answered without hesitation. He was a man in his late 30s with strong shoulders, white hair streaking just over his ears and an assertive look in his eyes.

“Thank you, Javier, for trying to keep the peace.” She nodded to him. “Now, we are all friends here. We should all be getting to know each other and working together because this is not a short trip.”

Lucinda looked like she might say something, but Skylar stopped her with a look. It was not an unpleasant look – quite the contrary. It was a friendly kind of reproach.

Skylar looked up and gestured, “I see there are still many unclaimed bunks. What is the objection to choosing one of those?”

Lucinda’s demeanor shifted dramatically and she hesitated to answer. Demetri watched her expectantly. After a lengthy silence and after it was clear she could not go without an answer, she finally admitted begrudgingly, “I have a fear of heights, alright.” She blushed and looked away, trying to maintain her tough exterior.

“And you voluntarily boarded a
space ship
?” Demetri’s first response was knee-jerk and he immediately regretted it as Lucinda’s cheeks flushed a deeper red. His dubious look softened as he observed the woman’s shame and the others looked on disapprovingly. “Sorry,” he apologized in a short, abrupt burst. “It’s fine,” he conceded and bent down to pick up his bag. “The bunk is yours.”

“I don’t want pity,” Lucinda reacted with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

Demetri shook his head, “Let’s call it a peace offering.” He paused, and then continued, “Lucinda.”

The woman wet her lips and finally nodded after a pause, “Lucy. You can call me Lucy. Thanks. And sorry about the…” she gestured to her head, indicating the scuff of hair on his that had been disturbed by the scuffle.

“Okay, Lucy. I’ll be right up there if you need me.” Demetri pointed to a vacant bunk on the opposite side’s second level and made his way through one of the gaps in the center table to begin climbing the ladder. The spectators moved out of his way and began to disperse with the détente.

Skylar nodded her approval of the resolution. She watched the other passengers – their looks reticent in response to the rocky beginning to their journey.  “This is all just temporary, folks.” She assured, “Remember that.”

ɸ ɸ ɸ

Across the ship, Alexa and her group hadn’t bothered with bunk assignments. Instead, they sat at the common table at the center of their compartment – Luca leading the conversation with enthusiasm.

“It all still feels like a dream!” Another passenger admitted. “From getting the acceptance notification to the fact we’re in space this very moment.”

Alexa only half listened. In her semi-focused state, she noticed the woman with the silk hair was sitting apart from the main group. She recalled that she had not seen this woman speak, or interact with anyone, really. She seemed like a ghost of herself – only able to observe what was happening. “Hey,” she interrupted whoever had been speaking by calling out to the woman. “What’s your name?”

She looked up from her trance-like state of staring at the metal table. Everyone turned their attention to her. She blinked at Alexa for a moment before speaking her name – “Jia.”

“Hi, Jia. You okay?” Alexa asked, feeling her field training bubble to the surface. The look on Jia’s face reminded her very strongly of post-traumatic stress disorder. Jia looked at the faces watching her and nodded meekly.

Luca, trying to help, added – “So why’d you sign up for this trip, Jia?”

The look on the woman’s face could only be described as trapped. She glanced down, and then back up, “Please excuse me,” was all she said as she stood. The group watched as she made a quick exit.

“Maybe she’s space sick?” Someone guessed.

“Is that even a thing?” Another asked.

“Well, I know when I first heard…” Someone else took up the question and Alexa felt her focus drift again to her own memory of when she’d first heard of the colonization effort.

ɸ ɸ ɸ

She had woken abruptly to loud banging on the door of her loft apartment. The sound ripped her from a deep, whiskey-induced sleep. ‘Loft’ was a fancy term that the complex owners had used to describe her small studio. Despite having been honorably discharged from the military, there was not enough money to go around for everyone – especially to support out-of-work veterans. That was what she and many others were told, at least.