Colonization (The Seamus Chronicles Book 3) (4 page)

In the corner of my eye the bright yellow of a life raft appears. I’m distracted and look down to see who it is. My father smiles up at me but says nothing.

With the third nut off I turn my sights to the fourth and final nut.

“Let me hold the unit. If there is strain on that nut you’ll never get it off.” Dad is kneeling in the life raft and pushing up on the reactor unit.

Sweat is pouring off my head and my hands are slick. I work the pliers as quickly as I can but it seems to take forever. Unexpectedly the nut pops off and the pliers join it on a clattering fall down the cargo ramp. Dad’s life raft shifts away from the plane and the reactor unit settles on my arm painfully.

“Little help!” I growl loudly.

There is loud splashing, and even though I know they are trying their best I wish they would hurry up. It’s taking all my strength to keep the reactor from dropping into the water and getting ruined.

Just when I think I might pass out the pressure on my arm lightens. I can tell my Dad’s grunts and it helps me relax to know he’s there.

“You need to help me help you. Push with your free hand and we can get this off.” Dad is working hard but his trademark calmness keeps me together.

When the reactor is finally safe in the life raft with my mom and dad I let my head drop to the ramp. The water is maybe six inches from my face and I know that if I lay here much longer I’ll be fully submerged. Pulling myself out through the tight space between the ramp and the top of the opening I scramble into the last life raft.

After a brief rest I look up to see that the other rafts have traveled some distance away from me. They are headed for shore, I can’t tell how far it is but I know that it will take a while. With a deep breath I place my cupped hand into the water and push, propelling the raft ever so slightly in the right direction.

Crying isn’t really of use but I feel like it could help. I know that it could actually do harm. I’m dehydrating and I can’t afford to lose the water from tears. We have been paddling for hours and the sun is almost fully overhead.

Once I caught up with the others we lashed the rafts together into a single floating entity. In the beginning we paddled leisurely, why rush? Once the heat became oppressive our strokes increased in urgency. Two teams of paddlers were formed and each spends thirty minutes on and thirty minutes off. Right now I am off and staring down into the water.

I haven’t seen any signs of life in well over two hours of observing the water. There are no plants, no bugs and no fish. It also seems like there is no breeze and no current.

Air and water both move due to changes in temperature. Warm air and water rise while cold air and water fall. I can feel the heat and know that it is warmer than it was earlier, how can it not be affecting the air and water?

Perhaps there is a layer of warm water above the cold water near the bottom. Based on the strong moon glow and consistently high temperatures, maybe the top layer never cools enough to switch places with the bottom layer?

Could this have an impact on life too? The cells in the mud that would evolve into life forms are too cold and never get the chance to warm up and grow. Our paddling could disturb the soil enough to change this. Even the smallest acts we take are having a profound impact on the ecological future of this planet.

One other alternative is frightening. The radiation that gets through the thin atmosphere could kill life at its most basic stage. The galactic cosmic rays that we had to protect ourselves from in space are pounding into this planet. New life is not the only thing impacted, existing life will not last long.

“Does this sunlight feel different than on Earth?” Mom is looking to me for an answer.

“You remember green house gases and the ozone layer? Well they kept some wavelengths of light and solar radiation away from the surface of the Earth. Without them we are exposed to those things and it’s so intense we can feel it.” Henry answers clearly but leaves off a point I consider important.

“Earth also had a pretty amazing electromagnetic field. You know the North Pole and South Pole weren’t just names for those places. The magnetic field helped to steer a lot of bad stuff around our planet.” I fill in the detail.

A splash abruptly halts our conversation about the atmosphere. I scan heads to see if I can tell who is missing and find that Liam is gone. Clumsily I struggle to my knees, the life raft was not made to support standing or kneeling.

I’m frustrated that I can’t remember where Liam had been sitting. He was in the left front raft, but was he in front or on the side? If our flotilla runs over him it will be difficult for him to come up for air. Then I remember the cast, it probably dragged him down to the bottom.

I roll into the water and stay submerged. The moisture feels so good on my body and I take a second to be happy. Opening my eyes I scan the area for Liam. The water is clear and my vision is almost undistorted. Ahead of me and in front of the rafts I can see Liam’s lower body. His hands are clawing at the top of the cast and bits and pieces are polluting the water around him.

Bringing my head to the surface I maneuver my legs underneath me to tread water. My toe hits the bottom and I realize that I can stand up. I get to my feet and the water comes up to my shoulders.

Slowly I make my way around the rafts and get to Liam. His head is above the water but he is stooped forward so that he can reach his leg.

“Stupid cast.” He mumbles into the water.

Submerging myself I go to his ankle and start pulling at the cast. I’m able to get large chunks of it off as the water softens the plaster and exposes ends of cloth. Water doesn’t bother me but I’m surprised at how calm I am and my ability to stay under water and work.

We make substantial progress on removing the cast and I only have to surface two or three times. By now everyone is in the water, cooling off. Before I can go under again Grace disappears below the surface and starts in on the last parts of Liam’s cast.

“I guess Liam’s leg is healed.” Grace announces as she comes up for air holding a large chunk of dripping plaster and cloth.

Remmie is clinging to Sofie’s back and he yells “Hooray for Liam!” and we all laugh and clap.

Sofie still does not look good. I can tell that she’s hanging on and her life isn’t in immediate jeopardy but I want her to feel better. We have to consider that it wasn’t the water here that caused her to be sick; she could still be carrying something from Earth. Thank God it’s not a cough she has.

“Well it looks like we can pull them the rest of the way to shore.” I announce.

Everyone follows the line of my eyes and look to the shore. I estimate that it’s still a mile or more away but at least we have some relief from the heat.

Grace reaches out for the raft closest to us. There are huge blisters on the back of her hand but I don’t think she sees them. Trying not to be obvious I look at her arm and then up to her neck and face. There are blisters of all sizes covering her skin.

I catch my Mom looking away from Grace and surveying her own skin. From here I can see that she also has some blisters but they don’t appear as significant as those on my sister.

“Nobody panic. Did anyone notice blisters on their skin before we got in the water?” Mom asks the group.

None of us listened to my mom’s question. We are all surveying our skin. I am reacting differently than my sister. The blisters on my skin are small and when I look closely I can see the fluid inside.

“Why are mine so big?” Grace asks, scared but surprisingly composed.

“I don’t have any.” Liam reports.

I never really think about our different biology. Liam and Grace are my brother and sister. They are annoying, funny, best friends and worst enemies rolled into one. They are different because they are not me, not because of their skin color or genetics.

“I’m trying to figure out if the water is having an effect or if the blisters were forming before we got out of the rafts.” Mom has a great point even I had not considered.

I can’t remember anything in the raft other than looking down into the water or paddling. There was no need to inspect my skin.

If the water is causing this on the outside imagine what it is doing to Sofie on the inside. Perhaps it’s not as pure as I thought, but then my eyes do not feel like they are blistering and I opened them under the water.

“I have been wet the longest, from when I got the first life raft that was floating away. But my blisters don’t look worse than any one else’s.” I try to provide a data point for all of us.

“I think I was blistered in the raft. My Irish skin doesn’t like the sun.” Dad adds his data point but it is too influenced by what he
assumes
is the right answer.

“Jake is badly blistered and he hasn’t been wet. I don’t feel blisters in my throat or in my stomach and I drank the water.” Sofie provides factual insights.

“I think it’s safe to say the sun is the cause of our blisters. Lets get some water up on Jake so he doesn’t melt and then we need to push ourselves to shore and some protection.” Henry seems to sense how our little group can rat hole before making a decision.

While Sofie cups her hands and scoops water up onto Jakes face and arms I survey the contents of the life rafts. There are boxes of food and water but I am frightened by how small they all look.

There are nine of us and my guess is that we have salvaged enough food to last us less than a week. Not only that, I don’t see the box with the seeds and the chickens we brought did not make it into a raft.

We are going to have to start taking some chances with food much sooner than I would have liked. A question I struggle with is if it is better to test food early or wait until we have no choice?

If I eat a leaf or a piece of fruit now and it makes me sick having real food available may help me to recover. I shouldn’t call it real food though; it’s food I’m used to. It will be a painful and unpleasant game of trial and error but I’m not sure of alternatives.

Regardless of when we try and eat local plants our bodies will struggle to adapt. My parents told me that when they went to Ethiopia the food was excellent but their bodies weren’t used to the oils and spices used to cook. It had an effect on their digestion but it didn’t mean the food was bad.

“Hey I found a blister!” Liam announces as if it were a game that he now gets to play.

“I want everyone pushing from the sides or the back. If you slip and fall just get to your feet and catch up.” Dad still loves coordinating stuff like this.

Sofie places Remmie back in the raft with Jake and is giving him quiet instructions. The little guys’ resilience and flexibility continue to inspire.

We trudge on at a pace that feels too fast for being in the water. It is getting shallower and walking is less difficult but still tiring. I remember back to visiting the ocean. Walking just along the water’s edge was easy and fun. A few feet further in where the water came up to mid-thigh was the worst place to be. The water was too shallow to swim and too high to get your feet up out of the water. This is the depth of water we walk in for close to an hour.

In short bursts I was afraid that the foliage in the distance was a mirage. For some reason it never seemed to get any closer and I worried that it would always be just out of reach. Fear, dehydration and exhaustion are all having an effect on my mental acuity.

Now that we are closer I am sure that the shoreline is real. The foliage is thicker than it appeared from a distance. We will probably need to cut and hack our way through it but I am praying for a clearing. Another glance at the contents of our rafts and I realize that we also did not grab any tools. Clearing brush ‘by hand’ is about to take on a literal meaning.

Based on our current pace I am guessing we need another 45 minutes before we reach dry land.

There is a spongy moss-like substance under my cheek. It itches a little, but I am so happy to be resting and in the shade that I don’t move to scratch. Our ‘luck’ continued in that we were able to find a small opening in the bushes. It also continues to be ‘our’ luck because the opening wasn’t large enough to get the rafts through.

We unloaded a few boxes of food and one box of water but that was it. Henry and Dad fastened the flotilla to some thicker tree-like plants and all we can do is hope that they don’t float away.

Liam broke out some of the food but most of us were too tired or too hot to really eat. I’ll have to remember to grab something before I get involved in looking at the reactor.

It’s hard to tell how long we have been on this planet. Certainly it has not been one complete local day, but it feels like it’s been at least twenty-four Earth hours. Looking at my watch tells me the time, which is useless. I didn’t check the time when we landed so I have no point of reference.

The temperature is still hot. Being in the shade and out of the direct sunlight provides a measure of relief. The leaves here all seem to be broad and strong. If they work like the plants on Earth the leaves are making food for the plant. Their texture is very different and makes me think of the plating on dinosaurs. In addition to making food these may also provide protection.

What I don’t know suddenly overwhelms me. Just here in the one hundred square feet around me there are a dozen different plants. How do we classify and name all of them?

Who was it that figured out how sap flows in a tree? Do we have the means to conduct that experiment to see if it is consistent here on Locus? Human knowledge of Earth took centuries to evolve and it did so while humans were evolving.

Now we are at ground zero. There is an entire planet that we know nothing about. If we hope to thrive instead of just survive we are going to need to experiment, explore and record.

Paper and pencils didn’t make the cut for our packing list. They are too easily destroyed and consume too much space and weight. The laptops and tablets we opted for made much more sense. Unless of course we left them on the plane while it was flooded by the rising tide.

There is nothing available to record data or document hypothesis. I’m going to say something to my mom about this and I know everyone will ridicule me. I don’t care.

My body aches all over and I struggle to get to my feet. Sofie lies next to me and she is sound asleep. Her back rises and falls slowly and I am glad she is at peace.

I walk for a few steps before I come across my mom and dad. Dad is face down and I can hear him snoring. Mom is sitting up and licking the chocolate from the inside of a protein bar wrapper.

“Mom?” I call to her softly.

“Hey Seamus.” She slowly gets to her feet. If my body is sore and achy hers must be stiff as a board.

Mom stands beside me and stretches her hands over her head. She is not smiling but her face is not as grim as I feel like it has reason to be.

“Do you have anything to write with?” I ask.

“I’m surprised you made it this far resisting the urge to record data.” Now she’s smiling.

“Actually I want to start recording hypothesis first. Like I’m pretty sure that these leaves have a form of armor that protects the tree trunks from radiation. We might be able to use that.” I know that the right questions are almost as important as the data collection.

“I’m glad we have your analytical mind trying to figure things out. I grabbed your backpack from the plane and tossed it in one of the rafts. You might want to save the batteries though. Maybe Henry has a pen in his shirt? Seems like something a pilot would have. You could write on a piece of cardboard until we figure out something else.” My mom was always good at keeping kids busy in restaurants and this has a similar feeling.

“You know we have to go back to the plane.” I say to her, nervous that she’s going to forbid it.

“Yes. Maybe the first data you should record is when the water rises and falls and how long we have between tides.” She gets that the water is moving due to the gravity of the moons.

“Good idea. Is there anything else you think I should work on or think about?” It feels arrogant, but I have been known to solve some complicated problems.

“Lets think on that for a bit, at least until everyone is awake and we can all offer suggestions. I’m going to rest some more, why don’t you take it easy too.” She pats me on the shoulder before turning back towards dad.

Rest doesn’t interest me now. I head off in search of Henry; I hope he has a pencil and that he’ll let me use it. Can you imagine a world where there is only one pencil and it is protected like a prize?

When I finally find Henry he is sound asleep. He’s lying right next to Jake. I don’t know about their relationship before but now they seem like close friends. The old me would have woken him, my needs are more important than any ones. The new me lets him sleep.

Carefully I make my way back to the break in the shrubs. I want to see where the water is and check the location of the moons and the sun. It feels weird referring to more than one moon.

The water has receded significantly and brought the rafts with it. It looks like the ropes were not tied as well as they needed to be. Dragging the rafts across mud is going to be more work than dragging them in the water was. Having the supplies so close to the cover of the foliage was a good thing, now we’ve lost a chunk of hard work.

I look around the ground for a branch or a fallen tree but there are none. The plants are large and much taller than me but they don’t have wooden trunks like on Earth. The stems are green and smooth and bend easily when I push on them.

With nothing to use for leverage to hold the rafts in place I decide that my hands are our best bet. Climbing through the bushes I head out across the muddy flat towards our supplies.

By the time I get to the rafts I’m sweating bullets. My blisters are on fire and the sun is past the halfway point across the sky. I consider going back to the shade and claiming ignorance over the receding rafts. Someone should stand here and hold them, even just for a bit until the water leaves them and they are stranded on the land. Why shouldn’t that someone be me?

Instead of turning to leave I step on one of the ropes hanging from the raft. All I have to do is stand here. It’s uncomfortable but not torture.

Directly in front of me is the reactor I salvaged from the rear of the plane. It looks banged up. Like it has traveled hundreds of light years since it was built, which it has. I wonder if we look as rough?

We really are no different than the early seafaring explorers on Earth. They spent months at sea and had to bring most of their supplies with them. Water was as much a problem in the middle of the Atlantic as it is here. So was exposure to the elements, including the sun. Except they had real sails overhead that must have provided some shade.

There is a seed of an idea in that thought, I know there is. I don’t think we brought any large pieces of cloth. There may be enough cardboard to fashion something overhead, and that would be a start.

I hoped we wouldn’t need protection from the sun while we’re in the foliage but the radiation is only reduced, not defeated. Out here with the rafts and bringing supplies back from the plane will require some form of protection. The odds that Liam brought parasols or umbrellas are low.

The leaves are large enough that we could use two or three to make some real shade but I haven’t tried to lift one. They look solid; they could be full of water and heavy.

A pole or something to hold them overhead will be the biggest challenge. Weaving together some of the wilty stems may yield a thicker shaft, but it would have tensile strength and not compressive strength. Plus, how productive will we be if we have to hold a leaf parasol overhead with one hand?

Dad will figure something out. He’s the master of a short-term fix while we wait on the permanent solution. I’ll shift my focus to a more permanent solution, like I’ve done before.

It’s interesting to think on whether we’ll fall into our traditional roles. Our needs are new and different than anything we have ever experienced. How much of my personality is based on what I wanted to do as opposed to what was left over for me to do?

By now the water has receded well past the edge of the last raft. The tide here came in quickly and goes out just as fast. I lift my foot from the rope and eye the rafts, nothing moves. I must have looked at miles of this lake bottom while we paddled. There wasn’t a single rock, but now I search for one to place on the rope as some form of security.

The solution is obvious and I feel like a dolt. A box full of canned goods will make a perfect anchor. I jiggle a few of the boxes to find the heaviest, which I lift out of the raft.

Placing the box on the ground will expose it to the water when it rises again. Coming back for our supplies is a priority anyway so the risk is minimal. Once the rope is secure I go to my reactor and lift it out. Having the reactor as my priority does not make intellectual sense. I can’t eat it or drink it and it won’t keep me warm or cool, but something inside tells me to grab it.

When I turn to head back to the clearing my heart skips a beat. I’m completely disoriented and cannot decide where on the horizon my fellow refugees are. The foliage along the shore all looks alike and I don’t see the break we used to get inland. I think I’m scanning the wrong part of the shore.

Smoke! I see smoke and it is coming from a place that feels right.

I head off towards the smoke carrying my reactor. It wasn’t heavy at Ames but I never had to carry it further than down a few flights of stairs. The heat is getting more bearable but it is still a strain to walk with a load.

Once I’ve covered what I estimate as half the distance I stop and put the reactor down. Water would have been a smart thing for me to bring.

Speaking of smart things, a time check when I marked the rafts would have been good. I’m going to miss a full cycle of data on the tides. Once we figure out protection from the radiation we can leverage the tides and the rafts to ferry supplies from the plane to the shore.

A few of us will have to ride the empty rafts back to the plane. Once they are loaded we can pull them while they float on the rising tide. But we’ll need to know when the tides are moving and how long we’ll have at the plane.

I wonder if the tide will recede as far as the space plane? I wish we had prioritized supplies and loaded the top ones on all three craft. Our food supplies are temporary, but we need to build things to create a life. The 3-D printer on the space plane could be the key to the survival of our colony.

It dawns on me that the smoke ahead could be coming from the other plane. If they crashed in the forest instead of making it to the water or the lakes bottom the result could be fire.

I lift my reactor again and set out with more purpose. If the smoke is from the other plane they may need our help.