Citadel: First Colony (8 page)

Mitch and Reilly sat in the front row of the impromptu meeting. Somar was standing next to the White Collar engineer who had rescued Lissa during the crash. The man’s hands were wrapped in bandages, but he didn’t seem to be in much pain. Mitch looked from him to the alien captain numerous times, trying to figure out what Somar had in mind. And why he and Reilly had been asked to sit in a prominent position.

“I would first like to thank all of you for working so diligently to build shelters and care for the wounded. Their lives continue because of your strength and courage,” Somar said. He bowed slightly. The crowd was mostly respectful, though there were a few titters from some of the Blue Collars in the back. Mostly guys like Jack and his crew—the type of people who took pleasure in seeing someone suffer. Mitch had been around guys like that for most of his career and tolerated them only because they were often good at their jobs.
What would happen
, he wondered,
without their jobs to occupy them?

“We have survived a great tragedy and ordeal. But our trial is not yet complete. Though we are safe here in the shadow of the Citadel module, there are many hundreds of colonists in stasis somewhere on this world. During our entry into the atmosphere the colony module was badly damaged and was sent careening towards the planet’s surface. There is a very good chance that many of the colonists perished in the crash.”

There was a murmur in the crowd as this information took hold. Some were mournful at the thought that so many had died. Others seemed to have a “better them than us” attitude. Mitch couldn’t say he blamed them, exactly. Relations between colonists and Blue Collars were always strained. There was a definite class distinction as the Earth-born moved out into the galaxy, usually holding the Blue Collar workers in disdain even as it was their sweat, blood, and hard work that made the entire trip possible.

Still, the colonists were human beings. Every life was valued the same in Mitch’s eyes.

“Despite this,” Somar continued, “there is equally the chance that many of the colonists survived. The stasis pods are built to withstand a great deal of damage and keep the occupants safe. They are environmentally self-sufficient. It’s possible that many of the colonists can be recovered.

“That must become our top priority. Now that we have tended to our own survival, we must send out a rescue party to retrieve and return the colonists to our camp.”

There was a general rumbling as many agreed, but some opposed this course of action. “We only have limited resources,” one of the Blue Collars complained loudly, and several of his compatriots agreed.

“Yes,” Somar replied, picking up that argument. “Which is the second reason that a rescue attempt is absolutely essential to our survival.”

The crowd quieted, curious as to how the captain would connect the rescue of the colonists to the survival of the crew. “The Citadel module was meant to be supplemented by the colony module. Upon landing, the engineering crew was to cannibalize the colony module and the stasis pods for materials to build the colony. This is especially vital now. Many of Citadel’s systems have been damaged beyond repair. These systems are key to our survival, as well as communication with the Earth colonies. Even the atmospheric shuttle, our only link to the orbital platform, is severely damaged. If we hope to survive or escape this world, we must make repairs. And that means retrieving the colonists.”

“Parts,” Mitch said suddenly. He turned in his seat and faced the rest of the crowd. “Every colony pod we retrieve means parts to fix vital systems.”

“Indeed,” Somar continued. “There are also reserves of emergency rations, water, and medical supplies. These are all things we need, and that is why I am commissioning a rescue team to find the Colony Module and to bring the pods back.”

Someone in the crowd laughed. Mitch looked back and realized, without much surprise, that it was Jack. “That’s ridiculous. What do you expect us to do? Carry the pods here one at a time on our backs?”

Somar held up his hands as the crowd threatened to get rowdy. “What I propose,” he said, “is that we focus our first efforts on repairing the atmospheric shuttle. With that done, a team of four crewmembers can go forth and retrieve several pods at once. It will take some time, but the colonists can be rescued.”

“But you said we’d need parts from the colony module to repair the shuttle!” a female White Collar crewmember exclaimed. She sounded stressed to Mitch, near panic. He glanced around and saw her expression mirrored on the faces of almost every White Collar in the crowd.

“Indeed,” Somar said. “But Mr. Garrison has assured me that he can repair the shuttle enough to make short jumps. For the time being, this should be sufficient for the rescue effort.”

Mitch sat back and looked at Reilly who had a curious expression on her face. He had told Somar that he
thought
he could partially repair the shuttle. It would be enough to make a few hops, but they would have to land often in order for the engines to cool. The coolant system—crucial for inner-atmosphere flight—was completely gone, and if the engine overheated, they’d lose it all together.

This was a risky move.

But Mitch saw that it was the only shot they had. The shuttle wouldn’t be able to make it out of the atmosphere right now, but with parts from the colony module and the stasis pods, they would be able to put it back in full working condition. If there was going to be any chance for the crew to return to the orbital platform and get back on the lightrail, back to the human colonies, this was it.

“I have selected three people to go on this mission. Mr. Garrison, as an engineer, will be there to keep the shuttle working. Ms. Reilly will pilot the craft. And I would like Mr. Thomas to lead the expedition.”

Everyone turned his or her attention to the White Collar engineer who stood beside the captain. There were mixed reactions from the audience. Thomas was an unknown to nearly everyone. Since Jack and his team had pulled Thomas and Lissa out of the woods, the enigmatic White Collar had stayed to himself. He had gained some respect from the Blue Collars because he had risked his life to save one of their own, but in the end, he was still a White Collar, and to many Blues that meant he couldn’t be trusted. And why should two Blue Collars need a White to baby-sit them on this mission?

Mitch wasn’t sure what Somar had in mind, but if the captain trusted this guy, that was enough for him. His only concern was that Thomas had been injured in the crash—his hands were still heavily bandaged. Though it didn’t seem to bother Thomas much.

Amidst the grumbling of complaints, Somar once again held up his hands. “I am seeking a volunteer to go with them. This will not be an easy mission. There are many risks, and I cannot guarantee your safety. Any volunteer will be honored for his dedication. Who would care to go with them?”

There were smirks and laughter from the crowd. Many of the BCs were making jokes about whether or not a White Collar would deign to get his or her hands dirty with real, physical labor. Others were joking that nothing about this had been “easy” so far, so why should this mission be any different?

Before anyone else could answer, Alan Angelou stepped forward. “I’m going,” he announced.

It wasn’t so much “volunteering” as it was a statement of fact. Mitch didn’t know Alan all that well, but it had always been obvious that he was determined. Once he made a decision, he was committed, whether anyone agreed or not. It had gotten him into trouble here and there, but it otherwise made Alan one of the few crewmen that Mitch thought of as truly dedicated.

Somar looked at the young man and nodded. “Very well. These four. Now by nightfall, I would like to see the repairs to the shuttle underway.”

With that, the crowd was dismissed. Mitch, Reilly, Alan, and the White Collar—Thomas—remained to discuss with Somar the next steps. Mitch had every confidence in the Captain’s choices and was prepared to deal with whatever challenges arose, but based on some of the looks a few Blue Collars gave the alien as they left, he knew that Somar would have his own challenges to face.

He hoped Somar knew what he was getting into.

––––––––

T
he
work and labor had begun that afternoon,
before night had set on their second day on the planet. By noon on their fourth day, the shuttle came to rest, finally, on the alien soil, and it was nearly ready to take a few staggering hops over the planet’s surface.

It hadn’t been easy. The first challenge had been to cut through the MD welds that held the shuttle in place. Next came the challenge of simply lowering the shuttle safely to the ground. Mitch had devised a plan to use a series of pulleys and the surrounding trees to gently lower it down. Once they had it settled, Thomas worked tirelessly with the internal systems, struggling to repair the shuttle’s computer. By his side, constantly, was Alan Angelou. Since pulling Thomas and Lissa out of the woods, the boy had stuck to the White Collar like glue. Mitch had no idea why, but seeing Alan’s connection to Thomas made sense somehow.
No wonder he volunteered for this mission,
Mitch thought.

Actually, having the young Blue Collar on board suited Mitch just fine. Alan might be a little ... reserved? Quiet, certainly. But he was a good worker. He followed orders, and he thought on his feet. And he wasn’t given to goofing off like most of the other young BC’s. He’d be a great asset on this mission. He was also likeable, which was a big plus.

They had pulled all of the fire-damaged seats and equipment from the crew chamber, leaving a large, open space that would be used for cargo, supplementing the existing cargo bay at the back of the shuttle. She might not be pretty or comfortable, but she would have plenty of cargo space.

Working with Reilly, Mitch managed to repair the web of flight controls. It had taken most of a morning to untangle the lines of pneumatics and wires, patch broken and crimped cables, and get the brass and wood fixtures, the handholds and pedals, back into shape. Reilly smiled appreciatively when she took the controls. “If anything, they feel better than they did originally.”

“They’ve needed an overhaul for a long time,” Mitch said. “I just never got around to it. Too many things to fix on the main ship.”

Reilly nodded, her smile suddenly taking on a slight edge of strain, and Mitch immediately regretted mentioning the ship. Reilly, more than just about anyone, was anxious to get back into space. She was a pilot. She didn’t care much for being on the ground.

Mitch felt he should say something comforting but couldn’t think of anything appropriate. The situation was what it was, and now wasn’t the time to get stressed about it. He nodded to her, she gave a wan smile, and he walked out of the back cargo bay door, feeling just a bit helpless himself.

Half an hour later, he was inspecting some of the exterior repair work with the help of Thomas and, of course, Alan. “Here’s where the limitations of faster-than-light travel pay off,” Mitch said, smiling.

“How’s so?” Thomas asked.

“It’s all mechanical. Wireless and computer systems tend to have problems at light speeds, so most of our control systems have to be mechanical.”

Thomas laughed.

“What’s up?” Mitch asked, smiling.

“Nothing, really. It’s just ... well, it wasn’t that long ago that the ‘pay off’ for faster-than-light travel was much more ... grand.”

Mitch laughed, too. “Maybe I’m jaded. Most of us have lived in space our whole lives, so it’s easy to forget that some people have always been planet-side. Maybe we’ve lost some of that ‘sense of wonder’ that the first engineers felt.”

Thomas had a strange smile on his face when he said, “I can see that. I bet those early engineers were probably more concerned with keeping the thing from blowing up than they were about whether they could use a computer to control it.”

“Hey, they weren’t all John Thomas Paris, you know. Not everyone was a psychotic murderer with an engineering degree.”

For an instant, the smiled faded from Thomas’s face, replaced by a strange look Mitch didn’t quite recognize. It was just a flit of expression, only there for that instant, and soon enough the smile returned and Thomas changed the subject. “So how much longer until she’s sky-worthy?” he asked, placing one of his bandaged hands on the lip of an access panel and leaning in to look at the inner mechanics of the shuttle.

“Tomorrow,” Mitch said. “There wasn’t that much damage, actually. She won’t go out of the atmosphere like this, but she’ll fly. The biggest problem is going to be overheating. We’ll have to land pretty often.”

“What happens if she overheats?”

Mitch blinked. It was a strange question from an engineer. “Engine blows,” he shrugged. “If we’re in the air when it happens, then we say hello to the ground pretty fast.”

Thomas grinned, “Been there, done that.”

“Sorry?”

He shook his head. “It’s an old saying. Guess it’s not in use much anymore.”

“’Been there, done that,’” Mitch repeated, grinning. “I’ll remember that. By the way, how are your hands? They don’t seem to be slowing you down much.”

Thomas paused. “They’re ... fine,” he said, holding them out for inspection. The bandages were dirty and hanging loose in places. “Not as bad as we first thought, I guess. I should probably just shed the bandages at some point.”

“Well, don’t rush it,” Mitch said. “Last thing you want is an infection right now.”

Thomas nodded again.

“Sir,” Alan said. He had pulled himself out of the flight control housing and stepped off of the crate he was using as a stepladder. “The coupling is secure. I also tightened some of the support cables. I didn’t see any evidence of anyone screwing around with them, but you might want to double-check me.”

“Thanks, Alan, but I trust you,” Mitch smiled.

“ok,” Thomas said, standing back to look at the shuttle.

Mitch joined him, appreciating the craftsmanship and lines of the shuttle. She gleamed in the sun, and even the few blemishes that marred her hull only added to her beauty.