Colonization (The Seamus Chronicles Book 3) (6 page)

At first the warmth from the rising sun felt nice, but it quickly became oppressive. As it rose higher the radiation from the sun became more pronounced, even under the cover of the solar sail. We are now outside the dome created by the solar sail and the beating of the sun is brutal. I doubt that we packed sunscreen, and even if we had it likely wouldn’t protect against the wavelengths that are affecting us now.

I always thought I was someone who preferred to be hot than cold. It used to be that I liked spring and summer more than fall and winter. Now I am longing for the night to come and return the planet to cool.

“Henry, can I ask a question that is going to sound kind of bad?” I interrupt a long stretch of silence.

“Sure.” He maintains his neutral composure.

“How did Jake get hurt during the crash? Everyone else was okay.” I’ve been gnawing on this for a while.

From the beginning I knew that asking it would sound accusatory, as if I thought Henry was at fault. I’m not used to worrying about the consequences of a question. In my opinion if someone doesn’t like a question it’s an internal thing and not a problem for the person asking. I don’t think that Henry did anything wrong but I can’t think of another way to ask the question. I hope he doesn’t interpret the question as an accusation.

“I’ve been going through the
landing
in my mind.” Henry emphasizes that it was not a crash, but he is shaking his head. “He stood up. He undid his seatbelt and stood up. But I don’t know why.”

“Was there trouble seeing?” Dad asks.

“None. Visibility was not an issue. We had the mud flats lined up almost as soon as we came across the warp. In the first thirty seconds we had the flaps deployed and we were doing everything we could to find lift. If anything I needed him pulling on the stick with me.” Henry is going through the event in his mind again.

“Do you think he was looking at something? Maybe something you couldn’t see from your side of the plane?” I follow up.

“It’s possible, but I have no idea what it could have been.” Henry looks off to where Jake must have been looking.

“Well he must have taken a pretty serious blow to the head. Aside from cuts and scrapes it doesn’t seem like there are other injuries.” Dad is kind of stating the obvious.

“Did either of you see anything?” Henry asks.

Dad and I were the only other two in the cockpit. I passed out during the warp jump that landed us in the planet’s atmosphere. I’m not sure what dad saw.

“I clocked my noggin pretty good too. I was unconscious before we made the warp jump. Don’t tell Donna, but I’m still a little woozy when I stand up quickly. Not my first concussion, but I wouldn’t mind if it was my last.” Dad gives his nervous chuckle.

“When I woke up you were already taking care of Jake. I had no idea what happened.” I don’t need to go into the details of why I was out cold.

“We better pick up the pace. It feels about as warm as it did when the water really started to rise. Close but no cigar would not be a good thing.” Liam accelerates to a steady trot.

My brother can run forever. He’s like one of those wind up toys except that he never unwinds. I on the other hand keep hoping that we see the plane soon because my lungs are burning and my legs ache. Fortunately dad is pretty gassed too. Henry looks like he is in the middle of a casual morning run.

Slowing to a walk, I bend over and place my hands on my knees. I think I’ve seen athletes do this on TV. It doesn’t help, and now there is an ache in my side that feels like my kidney is exploding.

“Seamus, don’t bend over. Stand tall and put your hands over your head. It expands the lung cavity and lets you take in more air.” Dad is coaching me, something he never got to do on Earth.

I want to make an excuse that the atmosphere is thin and there is less oxygen, but they are all breathing the same air I am.

“There it is!” Liam yells back from his advanced position.

We are finally close and I start walking with my hands over my head. It doesn’t help, but I’m in no mood to be lectured. I want to ask how high the water is but I don’t. We’ve come this far. I don’t care if I have to swim to get to the plane.

I desperately need tools. I want to make sure I am able to work on the reactor if anything happens to it. The biggest problem is that whatever I get I have to carry at least as far as the life rafts.

Dad has taken the water purification equipment as his priority. Liam is working to find tents and tarps. Henry is after food and blankets. Helping any of them would likely save me from grief, but I really want the spare reactor.

At this point there is no rhyme or reason to the cargo area. The scramble to get stuff into the life rafts and resultant shifting in the water has things a mess. Liam’s rudimentary labeling system, which was marginally effective, has been washed away.

Fortunately the water has receded to the nose of the plane. I estimate that we have at least two hours to find the things we’re looking for. With the water this low I would like to try and get the reactor off the nose of the plane but I’m afraid and I don’t know how to ask.

I start climbing over boxes and bags. It feels like starting at the front of the plane and working towards the cargo ramp is the best plan. This way there won’t be a dangerous uninspected area when the water starts to rise.

“Seamus, watch where you’re stepping. This stuff wasn’t put in this plane by accident, we need all of it.” Dad is exasperated with me.

“Sorry, I just don’t want to be thinking about checking the front of the cargo hold when the water starts coming in.” I feel like logic will make my actions acceptable.

“Fine, just make a path instead of stepping on stuff.” Dad turns and starts stacking boxes.

He’s right. We have a finite amount of supplies and even if it delays finding what I want we need to be careful with every single item. Grabbing an electric heater that was poking through a wet piece of cardboard, I move it to the side beginning some semblance of order.

Our little supply run went well. We were each able to grab more than we could carry well before the water started to rise. In fact we had enough time to sit and have a bite to eat and a drink. Dad and Henry sipped scotch that Henry retrieved from a secret stash and Liam and I split a Coke.

The fact that we were expecting the water to rise made it kind of anticlimactic. We each took double what we could carry and used a leapfrog technique. When the water was about three feet from the edge of the cargo ramp we each carried a load away until the water was a few inches from our initial pile.

After putting down our first load we jogged back and picked up the second load just as the water started licking at it. We then carried the second load past the first until the water rose to that point. The process repeated all the way to the rafts.

If I remembered correctly the dome from the solar sail should have reached out past the rafts. The relief I kept anticipating never came. Either there is a flaw with my settings or something has gone wrong. The spectrum of energy I configured to block and pass was a guesstimate, one opportunity for error. Before we left it was working fine, though, so I doubt it was a configuration problem.

Liam is with us so I know he didn’t break something trying to be helpful; it’s happened before. The girls and Remmie were around the reactor. I guess I hope one of them bumped into it by accident and took it off line. Beyond a minor accident by the girls, the options are pretty scary, `and I would rather not think about them.

In the scalding sun of full day the simple leap frog process was exhausting. In addition to moving twice the supplies, though, it kept us busy. Covering relatively short distances eliminated the dread of having to walk the many miles back to the tree line.

The four of us are covered in blisters again and I’m starting to worry that much more exposure to this sun and we won’t be sick, we’ll be dead. I tried to fashion a parasol from some cardboard but it didn’t work very well. We have an interesting dilemma: nights are too cold to work and days are too hot. I wonder how this will translate to growing food.

As we splash the last few feet to the tree line I become acutely aware of sound, or lack thereof. Keeping track of time is still low on the priority list so I’m not sure how long we have been gone. It’s possible that it was long enough that they are asleep. The sun doesn’t even seem to be half way across the sky though.

I’m not sure what types of noise I am expecting. We packed a radio but I am not sure that anyone has salvaged it from the C-5. The tools we just salvaged are still here with us so there wouldn’t be any hammering or sawing to disrupt the calm.

Voices. There should be voices. Remmie is a good kid, but at four years old quiet isn’t really his thing. Actually, I’m more surprised that I don’t hear Sofie and Grace, talking is somewhere between a hobby and a way of life for them.

My role is not the one that is nervous about strange feelings. Dad is the one that should be worried about what we don’t hear.

Like he could read my mind, Dad puts a hand up in the air signaling us to stop.

“Something seems off.” He whispers. “I’m going to check it out, you stay here.”

Dad hands Liam the rope from his life raft and makes his way slowly through the opening in the shrubs. My initial thoughts left me feeling weird and confused. Dad’s actions now have me nervous.

Henry remains stoic. I cannot tell what he is thinking, but I assume that he’s listening and observing.

The pit I didn’t realize was forming in my stomach grows. I can hear each step dad takes. Every leaf or branch he pushes past rustles audibly. He is not that far away and the signs of life are clear, but only from him.

We wait a lifetime. Even my sweat seems to be waiting. Dad’s noises soften and grow more distant but remain clear.

For a while we hear nothing. Then the noises resume, louder and more quickly than before.

“Secure the rafts and come on in. They are all asleep.” Dad says as he pokes his head through the bushes.

Henry and I tie up the rafts. I don’t trust Liam to do it right and I want him to start carrying some of our supplies in to the fire ring. There are increasingly fewer reasons to doubt my brother. He still chatters incessantly and does not know how to sit still, but he is not screwing up the important things.

As the last one to approach the fire ring I can see my family and the others crouch below the foliage and look off into the forest. The body language from those who stayed here is tense, while confusion grips those of us who went back to the plane.

“There’s nothing out there.” I say above a whisper as I approach them from behind.

“There was.” Grace shoots me a death look.

“Are you sure?” I ask. My sister has seen more than a few ghosts in her day.

“Seamus, there was something out there.” Mom speaks up and rises to a standing position.

“Hold on, are you saying there is something alive on this planet?” Dad is trying to comprehend the ramifications of their statement.

“Yes. We were pacing off distances from the monolith when it appeared. It was tough to see clearly because it didn’t stop moving. It actually seemed kind of frantic.” Mom begins to explain.

“What direction did it come from?” I ask.

“Over there, I think.” Grace points out past the monolith.

“Is anyone hurt?” Henry asks the most important question.

“Not directly.” Mom says.

“What does that mean?” Dad asks, alarmed.

“Whatever it was smashed the reactor and shut down the solar sail. As a result Sofie seems to be getting sicker every hour.” Mom explains.

“I either need to repair the reactor or salvage another one then.” I declare.

Sofie opens her eyes and struggles to eke out a smile. She looks awful and I worry about the long-term effects of radiation poisoning. The ibuprofen and anti-diarrheal are not going to help her.

“It kind of sucks to survive the sore loser virus, and a trip through space, only to die from a bad sunburn.” Her sense of humor remains intact.

“You’re not going to die. Actually this is a rare time where you can be grateful that you’re puking and not coughing.” I try to match her wit but fail.

“Seamus why don’t you go have a look at the reactor and see where we stand?” Dad is trying to delicately nudge me towards something that could be helpful.

I leave Sofie’s side and go to stand with my parents.

“The leaves must provide some level of radiation shielding. I know that being underneath them is not comfortable, but keep her covered, and it should at least reduce the amount of radiation she absorbs.” I say quietly to mom.

“That’s probably sound advice for all of us. I’m not exactly feeling energized.” Mom replies.

She and dad listlessly look around our feeble camp for leaves. Dad walks to Grace and Remmie and bends over to whisper something. I assume he is telling them to stay covered and take it easy. Sofie doesn’t need to receive that direction.

“Can I help with the reactor?” Henry asks me.

“No. I think you should try and save some energy and think about how we can deal with whatever it is that destroyed it.” I say.

Even if I can repair this reactor we are going to need another one. The second unit can be used it as a power source, but its’ main function will be as a hot standby. We need to go back to the C-5 and I will have to do some underwater salvage.

Without any fear of a strange and powerful creature I head directly towards the monolith and the smashed reactor. It’s not a Lego kit, so if it came apart something likely broke.