Exiled to the Stars (28 page)

When Cesar announced that evacuation of the ship would begin as soon as volunteers could be found to erect housing, it set off a ship-wide party that lasted long into the night. By the next morning, they had almost a thousand volunteers for the forty crew positions available. They scheduled two shifts, and by the next day, domes had begun springing up like weeds. They were issued by lot according to family size, and since there were enough kits to supply the ship’s full complement of 5,300, there was plenty of capacity for future growth. Within two months, over a thousand domes dotted the landscape around the ship. They were a uniform brown plascrete; EarthGov did not waste valuable hold space on paint.

Still, People are people. One enterprising woman began weaving the local grasses into mats featuring geometric designs, and colored with plant juices. She became fairly wealthy selling her mats, and soon had dozens of imitators.

The plant juices did not prove totally satisfactory as a coloring agent, and dozens of entrepreneurs were busily stripping the neighborhood of anything they thought might yield a durable pigment.

The colony was laid out with a central, ‘village’ area centered on the ship, surrounded by farms. At a lengthy, contentious Council meeting, it was finally decided to drastically limit the village area, and to encourage colonists to select and lay out farms instead.

Most of the colonists were urban, with little farming experience, but with too little basic education to contribute much to the colony in a non-farming way. Those with what the Council considered ‘valuable skills’ were rewarded with the domes closest to the ship’s amenities. Those without such skills were located farther away from the source of food and education, encouraged to gain ‘valuable skills’ of their own in order to get a dome closer to the ship – and to get off the mandatory farm labor gang.

Farmers and volunteer ‘farmers’ were rewarded with plots as large as they thought they could handle. The Council, of course, reminded them that the total area that the colony militia could protect was limited, and that the even smaller ‘scout corps’ was going to be hard-pressed to survey larger farms for dangerous local life forms.

Tara Creding was relieved of her responsibility for the 'scout corps' so she could concentrate on teaching farming techniques, and Boyet assumed command of the scouts until a permanent leader could be found.

Of course, there was a never-ending stream of problems and complaints to and even from the Council. Those with little or no farming experience predictably overestimated the size of the farms they claimed. The experienced Asian farmers, used to manual farming, tended to underestimate how large a farm they could handle. The Council spent day after weary day in session.

For Cesar, the best part of the news was that it was not necessary to pull men from the dam-building to erect the domes. It had, of course, rained several times since they’d crashed. But none of the storms had been the heavy rains the colonists feared, and the ground had been able to absorb the water. Needless to say, Vince and Cesar were monitoring the situation closely.

It turned out that “Emergency Kits, Colony Housing, For use as” included not just the shell of a dome, but a complete living unit, with cooking and refrigeration equipment, and even pots and pans. The Council found itself suddenly quite popular in some quarters and unpopular in others.

The evacuation wasn’t that simple, of course. Only one of the squatters refused to trade his shack for a dome. Vlad wanted to send Boyet’s militia to evict him, but Cesar just shrugged. “Leave him alone. I’ll bet a beer ration he’ll be back in less than two weeks.”

It took less than one for the man to compare his ugly, scrap shanty with the neat, well-designed domes of his friends, and to seek out Cesar with an offer to trade his shack for a dome.

But that was just one minor blip. Both Cesar and Boyet were faced with an endless stream of emergencies and complaints.

******

Simon Jerlson looked out over the grassland that stretched for klicks in every direction and sighed. Except for the odd shade of the grasses, it resembled nothing so much as the African savannah. He could almost see a pride of lions lazing under a small, stunted tree

Like Tara Creding, Simon had chosen to carry an old-fashioned rifle instead of a laser. In his case, though, it was a Krieghoff double-barreled rifle in .375 Holland and Holland Magnum. A classic African big game hunters' weapon.

That was appropriate, since Simon had spent years as a hunter and guide in Africa. He had hunted almost every game animal on the continent, but he never tired of it. Actually, he told himself, he was hunting a 'boojum'. "Boojum" was his term for the unknown. The new breed of dangerous game. A new, unpredictable opponent with which to match wits.

Oh, in Africa he hadn't seriously expected to encounter a "boojum", but the search had kept him alert and observant, and had saved his life more than once.

But
here
! Here there would be a
lot
of boojums. And as a Scout, he could hunt them, and even had his preferred dangerous game rifle for the purpose! A slow smile spread over his face as he rose and resumed patrolling for threats.

It was a disturbance of the grass that saved his life. He saw it from the corner of his eye, and spun, his rifle flying to his shoulder.

Simon didn't have time to tell much about the creature, except that it was
very
fast!
Crack
!
Crack!
The Kreighoff slammed his shoulder twice in quick succession. Simon's eyes locked on the beast as he quickly opened the action and ejected the two spent shells, replacing them with the two fresh ones he always carried between the fingers of his left hand when on duty.

He snapped the action closed and kept the rifle at the ready and his eyes scanning as he examined his kill. He didn't have far to go. The animal had reached to within two meters of him. Even with his trained reflexes, it had almost got him. Adrenaline was flooding his system now, and he had to clamp down on his excitement.
Yes! He'd got a Boojum!

The creature was large. The body was a meter and a half long, and the tail doubled that. Overall, the thing resembled nothing so much as a large monitor lizard. But
this
one had eight legs, each ending in a sharp, curved, 7-cem claw. To Simon, it was the legs that took this animal from the ranks of the slow, cold-blooded ambush hunters and placed it firmly among the big cats, even though it didn't look like one. The legs were widely set on the sides of the thing's body, as in a lizard, but
these
legs were long and slim, more closely resembling those of a tarantula. This gave it an appearance like a huge, tailed spider. It had a thin, stiff fur, dappled to resemble the grassland it inhabited.

Replaying his mental image of the attack, he realized that the thing had crept close with its body low, but the long legs had permitted it to suddenly raise its body more than a meter off the ground during its final rush. Interestingly, during its charge, the two front legs had been extended in front of itself, ready to slash prey with those wicked claws.

Though the body was that of a lizard, and the legs those of a spider, the head most closely resembled that of an oversized terrestrial wolf. The jaws looked to be about fifteen cems long, and the teeth revealed by the thing's dying snarl were nearly as long as its claws. A worthy opponent, indeed!

******

For Cesar, one of the most vexing was the problem of the Dorm 25 survivors. It was the Council’s policy (at his suggestion), to award domes without regard for the recipient’s residence dorm on the ship. “We do not want to start a new culture on a new planet by creating ‘neighborhoods’ of all Koreans, or all Filipinos, or all Egyptians,” he said. “Here, these are meaningless distinctions. This is our opportunity to break the bonds of old Earth and become a single, cohesive group, not tied to some identity we’ll never share again!”

Complaints were many, but the Council was steadfast. Except in the case of Dorm 25, of course.

Helen Shourd again pleaded her case, this time reinforced by the Council’s own policy, and Cesar’s support.

There was much less opposition this time, except for Abdul Arheed and Doug Ryles. “Are we supposed to take murderous, suicidal fanatics into our very midst?” Ryles shouted, “These women who may at this very moment be plotting the Prophet’s revenge? She claims to be no threat, but we have only her word for that. Cesar supports her, but is it because he thinks she’s harmless, or because she’s seduced him? They’ve been spending time together for months, ever since the crash!”

Cesar grinned. “Why, Messer Ryles! A compliment? You really think I’m so desirable that Mistress Shourd would pursue me?”

Ryles grimaced. “I think she would pursue a baboon if she thought it would help her get free.” A sardonic smile flitted briefly across his face. “I guess she found one. But I, for one, do not want to be murdered in my bed just because you’re interested in her.”

“You were quick enough to quarantine
us
unnecessarily,” Arheed added. “I say leave ‘em on the ship. Lock ‘em up in an empty dorm and forget ‘em. They’ll have everything they need. They just won’t be able to slaughter us!”

Helen scowled. “So, your idea of justice is life imprisonment in solitary? Are you sure you weren’t a judge for EarthGov? That sounds like EarthGov justice to me. All right. If that’s your standard, can you
prove
that I or any of the other survivors committed
any
crime? Can you prove that any one of
these women
murdered anyone?” she waved a dismissing hand. “Don’t tell me about what others did. Tell me about what
these
women, and
these
children did. Just who did
I
kill, Messer Arheed, Messer Ryles?”

Arheed subsided, scowling, but Ryles wasn’t finished. “I still say it’s wrong to put all our lives at risk just because an old man gets horny!”

Helen bowed. “Messer Ryles,” she said archly, “I am flattered by your belief that I am such a sexy vixen that I can make old men horny.”

Ryles reddened at the general laughter, but remained silent.

Helen turned back to the Council. “This Council has already adopted a policy of breaking up groups,” she said. “I suggest you do the same with the Dorm 25 survivors. I also suggest we stop being identified as such. Spread the 32 of us out among the 3500 colonists, and we will simply disappear. Keep grouping us together, and giving us a separate identity, and you brand us for life.”

“I agree,” Cesar said. “This Council has the authority to assign domes. All we need do is make certain these 32 women are spread widely among us.” He looked around the table. “Everyone here knows that with 3500 colonists, we need all the genetic diversity we can get. To lock away 30 fertile females is so stupid and wasteful as to be criminal!”

In the end, Helen and Cesar won. The Dorm 25 residents were spread widely throughout the colony.

“Thank you, Cesar,” Helen said when the meeting adjourned. “Without your help, I’m not certain we would be going free.”

Cesar shook his head. “Arheed and Ryles only objected because they could oppose me. The issue wasn’t really that much in doubt. But I’m sorry about Ryles’ nonsense.”

Helen smiled. “I’m not sure I agree that the issue wasn’t in doubt. As for Ryles’ nonsense, I wasn’t offended, I was flattered.” She snorted. “To think he called an old biddy like me a
femme fatale
!”

Cesar frowned and shook his head. “You’re no ‘old biddy’. You’re a very handsome woman, and I rather wish Doug Ryles had been telling the truth for once!”

Helen’s eyes widened. “Why, Cesar! That’s the most gallant thing anyone’s said to me in, oh, centuries! Careful! I might begin to think you’re trying to seduce me.”

Cesar snickered. “If I were ten years younger, and white, I
would
be trying to.”

Helen snorted. “Nonsense! I’ll bet you’re less than ten years older than me. And as for that ‘white’ remark, I ought to slap your face for thinking that matters to me!”

Vlad, who’d been waiting to talk to Cesar, grinned as the two walked away. Well, Good for Cesar!

By now, except for those required for maintenance, the ship was abandoned. After years crammed into dormitories, the colonists had fled the ship as quickly as domes could be erected. Many functions remained active aboard the ship, of course. Until the colonists could get a crop in the ground and harvest it, and breed some meat animals, they would remain dependent upon the ship.

Of course, the computer remained aboard, and for this reason if no other, Cesar kept his office aboard, instead of using an office in the new, big, colony headquarters dome.

A nervous-looking Chief Med Tech Koumanides intercepted Cesar and Helen outside Cesar’s office.

“Excuse me, sir, but I must talk to you.”

Helen smiled and disengaged her hand from Cesar’s. “I’ll just run along, Cesar. I’ll see you at dinner.” Cesar watched as she walked away. A fine figure of a woman!

He dragged himself back to the present. “What is it, Doctor?” He suddenly noticed that the doctor was wearing a grim, worried expression.

“I must report that we now have four cases of an unknown virus. At least, we
think
it’s a virus. Doctor James is already on it, but so far, we’ve been unable to identify it. I’m afraid we may have finally encountered a native disease that can infect humans.”

Chapter 11

Seventhmonth 12, Year 1

“I just don’t know, Cesar,” Susan said when he called her. “It’s obviously alien. Or maybe ‘native’ would be a better word, since
we’re
the aliens here. It seems to spread throughout the body without setting off any of the body’s alarms, and then, it suddenly explodes into action. It triggers almost every defensive system the body has, while spreading some sort of filaments throughout the body. We’re trying, of course, but I just don’t know…”

The despair in her voice told Cesar as much as her words. Susan had no idea how to combat the menace, or even what it was.

“Do you think it’s fatal?” he asked.