Colonization (The Seamus Chronicles Book 3) (12 page)

Dad and Henry spent most of the time I was asleep trying to get the generator working. The needle still isn’t moving when they peddle and they’ve plugged the 3-D printer into the outlet but the power LED does not light.

We are all beyond fried. There is probably something simple causing the problem, but we are so taxed that we can’t rationalize what it might be.

I try and take a step back in my mind to focus on the ridiculous. My dad used to tell a story about answering an 800 line for a tech company. One day a customer called in angry about their computer monitor not working. After thirty minutes of trouble shooting my dad asked to make sure the monitor was plugged in. The insulted customer swore at him and then excused himself and hung up the phone.

In our case everything is connected and plugged in. I know the flywheel is spinning because I can hear it and feel it, I can’t see it but I am still confident it’s moving.

I know that occasionally an outlet will go bad and need to be replaced, but it’s rare and irrelevant; any spares are still on one of the cargo planes. I’ve shorted out my fair share of electrical systems; all it usually takes to fix them is flipping the circuit breaker.

“Dad, can you see a circuit breaker on there?” I ask, and startle them.

My dad surveys the business end of the generator. He squints and scratches but ‘a-ha’ never crosses his face.

“Nothing.” He says eventually.

If I were designing this thing I would have put a 10-amp breaker on it. Sitting on a generator that catches fire is not ideal. Most of the time something like this would be used to power a small television or charge a phone so it wouldn’t need to support a lot of current. Where would I put it?

“Sit on the seat and reach your right hand underneath.” I give my dad instructions.

He sits and within five seconds his face lights up. An imperceptible twitch and he starts peddling with the power LED on the printer bursting to life.

“Seamus my boy!” He bellows and starts pumping his legs furiously.

The next challenge will be operating the printer without a manual. I had asked them to get the printer paired with a laptop before we left Earth but I guess that didn’t make the priority list. Now I regret spending the last morning engaged in tag and other trivial pursuits.

My laptop battery is barely charged, I never took it out of airplane mode but time must have drained it. All the component schematics are loaded and filed properly though, so it shouldn’t need to last long. I connect the USB cable and walk through the printer configuration. There are going to be some features missing but it should work.

Just before I press the print button my dad stops peddling. He is drenched with sweat but has a big goofy grin on his face.

“That’s a great workout. There is no way one of us will be able to crank that thing for as long as it takes to print whatever it is you need. We’ll have to come up with some sort of shift system so we don’t lose power but none of us burn out either.” The endorphins from exercise have his face glowing.

Dad disappears for a minute around a shrub and returns with Grace and Liam trailing behind. My sister is a gazelle and she can run for miles like it was a walk down the hall. Liam could power a small city the way his leg bounces at all times.

This delivers a realization I must have been avoiding: once we have the containment field and electricity I’m useless. For all these months since the killer cold devastated the human race and then the Earth, people have been helping me. At some point they are going to need my help, but I am probably not going to be able to provide it.

Colonizing this planet is going to require hard physical work. It will also require repetition and routine menial tasks, things I hate. Dad, Liam and Henry are discussing log cabin construction and I can’t keep up. Mom and Grace are scheming some irrigation system that seems simple but I can’t manufacture an interest in.

How will I contribute in the future?

Grace is serious and Liam is goofing. They are practicing mounting and dismounting the generator seamlessly so that there is no interruption in the flow of electricity. It’s good that they can be loose and not stressed, but I would feel better if they were focused.

“Alright lets give this a whirl.” Liam says as he pushes Grace out of the way and sits on the generator.

The print job is queued and ready to go.

“Once you start pumping we are committed. The materials in this printer cannot be replenished so we can’t afford to abort the job. Do you understand that?” I ask Liam.

“Yeah I get it. Just give us the thumbs up when you hit print.” Liam starts peddling away.

Print is clicked as soon as the printer comes on line and I give them the thumbs up. Liam starts to whistle and the first layer of the part is sprayed down.

After five minutes perspiration is rolling down my brother’s face. The whistling has stopped and he is gritting his teeth.

“I’m in.” Grace calls out as if she had been timing things to the millisecond.

My sister slides into the seat and her first foot is on a pedal and in rhythm before Liam takes his second foot off the other pedal. She pumps along easily and I don’t even notice a dim of the LCD screen.

The part is building up and getting larger every second. We are only a few minutes away from having what we need to repair the reactor and restore the containment field that protects us from the suns radiation.

“Liam, are you keeping time?” Grace asks with noticeably labored breath.

“Oh man, I forgot.” My brother starts to scramble and look for a watch.

“Never mind, I think we’re almost done.” I say to him.

The part is nearly done and would probably work fine for the reactor. My sister is struggling and I should probably tell her she can stop. But it will be better if the part is done right so I hold my tongue. How would I react if I found out that someone let me struggle to complete something that would have been good enough at eighty percent?

“Grace, you can stop.” I tell her.

“Is it done?” She asks.

It’s easy to notice that the printer is still working and Grace is not an idiot.

“Close enough, you’re busting your ass and deserve a break.” I answer.

She keeps peddling until the printer stops working.

I grab the piece off the printer and hurry over to the reactor. The process of reassembling the unit with the repaired pieces will not be difficult but it might take some time.

While I work there are a few parts that I am surprised have become magnetized. I did not think that the electrons in this part of the reactor would have been aligned this way, I’ll need to rethink some of my assumptions.

I also know that there is something in the back of my mind related to magnetism. When something like this happens there will be a discovery somewhere down the line. It’s just annoying that I have no idea of the subject.

By the time I have the reactor reassembled the sun has mostly set and the temperature is dropping.

We need sustained power to initiate the reaction, which means that we need a butt in the seat of the generator. Grace is out. She already contributed and probably has rubbery legs.

“Dad?” I ask, turning to the person who always solves my problems.

“Ready?” He asks and walks over to sit on the generator.

It only takes a minute to connect the reactor to the generator and I smile and give dad the thumbs up. Wearily his legs start pumping and it looks like he is using his hands to push his legs into motion.

I don’t have the strength to walk around the reactor and check different components. There is a build up of electrons in the right place and I am confident that the reaction will begin soon. When it does I am going to close my eyes and sleep.

The faint blue glow begins and it appears that dad is about to stop peddling. It’s too soon though, he needs to continue. His face is twisted in pain and while Grace struggled towards the end it was the struggle of a healthy person leaving her energy on the field. Dad is struggling like an old man in his death throes.

At last the reaction kicks in and dad can stop. Hopefully we will only need the generator and our physical efforts one more time. It’s my goal to peddle the generator next time we need to start a unit.

My laptop comes to life and I quickly adjust the configuration parameters for the containment field. This should return it to the configuration needed to let in the wavelengths of light similar to those from Earth but keep out the toxic and damaging radiation that has been pummeling us for the last few days.

Opening the status window I see that all systems are functioning properly, and then my screen goes blank. It looks like I’ll be able to get my generator legs in shape by charging my laptop.

My eyes open to a flurry of activity. I’m reminded of the first days of spring back in New Hampshire. Once the snow melted and the temperature warmed into the 50s people started going back outside.

Grace is holding one end of a long string and on the other side is my mother. She waves my sister in one direction and then back in the other. After too much time fine-tuning she shoots a thumbs up and they both tie off the string to a tree.

“Heads up.” I hear my brother call.

When I’m able to locate him on the ground the other side of mom’s string he has his own string. My brother is filthy but has the biggest smile I have seen from him in weeks. On the ground next to him is a tree, cut off low near it’s base.

I didn’t think we were felling trees and I’m not sure how I feel about it. We have no idea how long it took for these trees to grow here. What if they are thousands of years old? It seems that there are enough of these trees that taking down a few won’t permanently destroy the atmosphere, but I still wish we could leave them standing.

“Did you grab the sensor arrays from the space plane or just the printer and generator?” Cassandra stands over me with an accusing look in her eye.

“We already had the printer. Plus there was only space and strength for one large item. We kind of needed the generator to save our lives so we chose that.” I answer smugly.

Cassandra and I had been getting along well back at Ames, but now I hate her. My hatred comes from how easily she quits. I never considered myself to be a tough guy, but I also hate giving up. When I was younger I thought it was only related to my science work, but I’m starting to realize it’s how I approach everything. The concept of setting a goal and working relentlessly to achieve it feels right.

Cassandra, on the other hand, seems to quit by default. If it doesn’t come easily to her she doesn’t do it. Adapting to life on Locus isn’t coming easily to her, I wonder if she’ll chose to quit?

“Everyone seems to be feeling better so I would say that your containment field is configured well. It would just be nice to have some data so we could make sure you didn’t make a major mistake that will come back to hurt us.” She looks around at all the people working but does not smile.

“If I made a mistake we’ll deal with it when we find out. It doesn’t make any sense to daydream about it now.” I answer her and get to my feet. “Besides, we don’t have electricity to run the sensors so they fall somewhere below a second reactor.”

I walk over to where Sofie was laying in the life raft, but she isn’t there. She was feeling the worst of the bunch, short of the still unconscious Jake, so I would be shocked if she was already up and working.

“She’s over at the beach. Taking a dip I think?” Grace calls to me from her end of another piece of string.

As I walk towards the beach I look up at the sun high overhead and smile. It’s warmth on my face feels good, just right, and I am glad that we no longer have to fear the radiation it is pouring down on this planet.

There are more strings along the trees here and I think I can get a sense for what we would have considered roads back home. I’m not sure how they determined the width of these or if they thought about ways to future proof their plan.

Immediately I am stopped from thinking about streets and future proofing. Hanging on the branch at the edge of the water is a t-shirt and some jeans. On the next branch down is a bra and girl’s panties. I recognize the shirt and pants as Sofie’s and freeze in my tracks. She is clearly bathing and I should turn back, but we haven’t talked in so long I want to see her and tell her about what we’ve been struggling through.

“Seamus, I’m out here.” I hear her call to me from the water.

I take several steps closer to where her voice came from and lower my head to look at my toes. I want to look at her, see her naked. Even the thought makes me blush. I’m almost eighteen and she’s my girlfriend, it’s going to happen sooner or later.

“You know the water is really clear. I can see the bottom in spots where it’s very deep.” I shout out to her, probably much louder than needed.

“I know, and it feels so nice to wash off the sweat and grime. You should come in.” She replies.

I can’t stop looking at my feet.

“I’m good for now. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It hardly seems safe to go from unconscious to swimming alone in a matter of hours.” Maybe if my mom and dad weren’t standing ten feet away I would be more comfortable joining her.

It’s hard to get my mind off Sofie, and I’m not sure why I need to. My task is done, the containment field is protecting us and we can get started on building a life here. Lucky for me that life will include Sofie and my family.

When I finally lift my head it is the exact wrong time, or right time depending on how you see it. Sofie is walking towards me dripping wet and nude. She’s smiling and my jaw is on the floor. I have never seen this side of her and I mean that in every way imaginable.

She walks past me and places a hand on the side of my face and lets her fingers trail along my skin. Her touch is electric and it sends shivers down my spine. I want to touch her back and let my hands explore her body. This feels all wrong and all right at the same time.

Sofie sits and reaches down beside her clothes. When her hands reappear they are holding a leaf that she brings to her mouth and drinks from deeply.

This makes more sense. I need to get her to stop drinking from the narcotic leaf and get her dressed before she embarrasses herself in front of everyone.

“Hey we have some water bottles that actually work a lot better than those leaves. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll go get you one.” I smile at her and start walking back to our crude pile of supplies.

“Are you sure? Cassie told me the water bottles could be dangerous and that I should use a leaf. She helped make one special for me.” She giggles and takes another long sip of water.

“We’ll talk with Cassandra later, but yes, I’m sure.” I walk over to her and forcefully take the leaf out of her hand; the water falls to the ground.

I take her shirt off the branch and put it in her hands. Our skin touches briefly and I shudder at our closeness. But I need to control my emotions; she is going to be upset enough about this already.

“Hurry back.” She purrs at me.

Hurrying is definitely part of my plan. Following the string paths I head back to where the others are working. My mom and Grace have another string in their hands and are just about to fasten it to their respective endpoints.

“Hey Grace. Can you go help Sofie? She seems to have imbibed a bit of water from a leaf and is uh…” I’m not sure how to say what she is.

“First tell me what you think we should call the central avenue of our village.” Grace walks over to me.

“Main Street?” I offer lamely.

“Oh my god you are so LAME street! Where’s Sofie?” My sister rolls her eyes and places her hand on my shoulder.

“She’s over by the water, third string on your right. She was, um, bathing.” My face turns crimson red.

“Oh my god!” Grace chuckles and sets off at a trot.

“Seamus, I hope you were a gentleman?” My mother questions me.

“Of course. It was tough, she’s pretty persuasive and…” What an awkward conversation to have with your mother.

“She’s pretty and she’s persuasive. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your getting Grace to help her. I was wondering if you would be willing to help me too?” Mom is the queen of open-ended requests.

“You know I struggle to commit to helping when I don’t know what help is needed.” I remind her that I haven’t changed just because we’re on a new planet.

“We are going to need an irrigation system for the garden. I suppose we are going to need a full plumbing infrastructure at some point, but I would like to be able to control how much moisture gets to the garden. Can you think about ways to solve that?” She looks at me like she’s just asked me to clean my room.

“Point me to the garden and I can start dreaming of water.” I wave my hand and bow.

“Right down Main Street, all the way to the end.” Mom adds no flourish.

Walking down the path that is gradually being carved out of the jungle I can see the progress. There are several small trees that have been felled and pushed off to the side. The soil is compacted and with a few exceptions is flat and smooth.

On planet Earth European settlers went to North America and clear-cut huge swaths of forest to plant their crops. History showed that creating fields and building homes was progress. Eventually the industrial revolution began and they started to dam rivers and streams to make mills, further manipulating nature. Again it was called progress, but I wonder.

The Native Americans who were already in North America had been there for generations and did not clear cut forests or alter waterways. They were healthy and happy and lived a balanced life with the environment.

Are we going to damage this planet the way that our ancestors damaged North America? Are there natives here who have been living in harmony with the environment and will be negatively impacted by the progress we make in taming the land?

Arriving at the garden, balance is on my mind. We need to balance our survival with the survival of this ecosystem. We cannot defer to this planets needs, but we cannot let our needs take precedent.

While I take in the space I see a large tree begin to fall. It crashes to the ground and I feel a slight tremor. But the tremor doesn’t stop, it’s another quake. I drop to a knee to keep my balance and look around me at how the trees and plants react, seemingly without a care.

When the tremor stops I look up through the hole left by the fallen tree. The sky is clear and bright and a new patch of warm sun blankets the ground. Peering through the hole in the canopy I search for the sun but do not find it. This reminds me that I still do not have a handle on how long the days are and we are not even tracking the rate at which we orbit this sun.

I cannot delay record keeping any longer. Before I set to work in the irrigation system I need to find a notebook and pencil and start logging data. Eventually I can transfer it to a spreadsheet on my laptop, but for the current environment I think that keeping electronics safe is prudent.