Space Colony One Books 1 - 6

The Concordia Deception-10

AN ANNOUNCEMENT WAS to be made in the stadium. Cariad’s gaze roved the gathering crowd as she waited. A gaping hole in the seating remained from the bomb explosion. All loose material had been stripped away by the Guardians for investigation, and the structure temporarily braced for safety. To Cariad, it was a stark reminder of the terrible event, and the sight of it made her newly fixed arm ache in psychosomatic sympathy.

The mood was in somber contrast to that at the Naming Ceremony. Most of the noise came from people maneuvering between the seats. No one was saying much, and what was said was conveyed in low voices, as if in fear of being overheard. Guardians had scanned the stadium thoroughly for any explosive devices and found nothing, but the tension and unease in the atmosphere was almost palpable.

Cariad noticed another marked contrast: at the Naming Ceremony, Gens and Woken, and even Guardians, had intermingled and seated themselves randomly, but now the groups were mostly sitting apart. She could identify the Gens and Woken even at a distance due to their clothing styles. Both groups clothed themselves from the ship’s printing facilities, but the Woken sported the fashions of Earth at the time they’d left—Cariad wore the same exaggerated swirls and folds in muted shades herself—the Gens, however, favored tighter, more body-defining shapes and bolder colors.

A patch of dark gray in a corner of the stadium represented the Guardians. They made up the smallest group, only ten or twelve of them. Cariad knew Strongquist and a few others by name. The faces of the rest seemed to constantly change, as if they were serving shifts planetside or aboard Nova Fortuna, which, she reflected, was probably the case.

She’d sat among Gens, but no one was speaking to her. Looking around, she noticed that people were avoiding her gaze. The Gens’ attitude toward her seemed to have changed within the last few days. Even those who hadn’t been planetside during the First Night Attack knew who she was, and previously everyone had been friendly. Now she was beginning to feel like a pariah.

Something was happening within the colony. Groups were defining themselves into factions. Cariad was strongly reminded of her conversation with Ethan about the Gens’ feelings about the Woken, and Anahi’s attitude that the settlers were divided into the Gens and us. The divisions didn’t bode well for the future but Cariad didn’t know what to do about them.

“Hey.”

It was Ethan. He sat next to her, and Cariad’s spirits rose immediately. She had one friend at least. He must have sought her out among the crowd.

“Hi,” she replied. “How are things down at the farm?”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“No, I haven’t heard much news. I’ve been busy.”

He related a story about a farmer being attacked by an organism living in the lake.

“That must have been terrifying. Was she okay?”

“She didn’t suffer any permanent damage that I know of. Do you know what this announcement is about?”

“I’ve no idea. I just received the message, the same as everyone else.”

The stadium sound system gave out low rumbles, indicating someone was about to speak. The background noise dropped to silence, and all gazes turned to the newly constructed speaker’s box. A prominent Gen called Garwin was standing there facing the crowd. Strongquist was in the box with him and another Guardian. A woman, she sat at the back and Strongquist was standing behind Garwin. Anahi also appeared in the box.

“Gens, Woken, Guardians,” Garwin began, “thank you all for coming here today. This meeting is long overdue. We’ve never gone so long without a Leader.”

The general mood seemed to soften a little. Garwin was well-known and well-respected among the Gens. An older man, he had stood for election to be the Leader several times but had never won, probably due to his reputation for philandering. While not particularly frowned upon in Gen culture, Cariad had guessed it gave the impression that he was unreliable.

He was a good speaker, however, and the Gens were prepared to listen to him.

“I’m pleased to tell you the election process will begin soon,” Garwin continued. “I’m not going to be standing again. Don’t worry, I don’t need it spelled out to me. You don’t want me, and that’s fine.” He spoke wryly and without rancor. Some Gens began chanting Garwin for Leader, but the chant quickly faded when no one joined in.

He raised a hand. “My chance has come and gone, my friends. As I said, the election process begins soon. We have important things to talk about before that happens.” He paused, as if to gather his thoughts. “It’s been thirty days since we arrived at our new home, and what a tumultuous time it’s been. Counting the Gens and Woken who died in the First Night Attack and the stadium bombing, fifty-five people have been lost to us, and more have suffered serious injuries. The other day, we also nearly lost two more in a wildlife attack out by the lake.”

He looked down and shook his head before raising it to speak again. “Friends, we aren’t well prepared for the dangers of our new lives. Whoever we elect as Leader has a tough job ahead of him or her, the toughest leadership job ever in the history of Nova Fortuna. But electing a new Leader isn’t enough. If we’re to succeed and make this colony viable, we need to improve our game.

“All our lives, we Gens have followed the guidelines laid down for us in the Manual, but we weren’t ready for what we found here. How could we be?” He spread his hands wide. “We only knew how to live aboard a starship. We’d never known danger, so how could we protect ourselves against it?

“Sure, we learned basic ideas about survival, but learning is one thing, practice is another. We’ve been doing our best, but it isn’t enough. We need more guidance. We need people with experience of a real world to lead us.”

Cariad had assumed that Garwin was going to try to dispel the unrest and calm people’s fears, but the man’s last few sentences brought her to a sharp focus. His words had begun to sound worryingly familiar. They were very similar to a certain person’s opinions she’d heard only a short time ago. She was surprised to hear them coming from the mouth of a Gen.

She glanced around. The people nearest her were frowning.

“It’s time for a change,” Garwin said. “There’s an old Earth saying I’ve heard: desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s time that we rethink what we’ve been doing and invent a new way forward, a way that will save lives and bring us the success we need and deserve. I’d like you to listen to someone who has thought up a plan for that new way. It’s a plan that promises to solve these problems we’ve been having and ensure a thriving, healthy colony for all.”

The previous warmth that Garwin’s appearance had generated entirely drained away. Puzzled or concerned looks were turning angry.

Anahi stood.

Cariad suddenly became very conscious of the fact that she was a Woken sitting among hundreds of Gens.

“Thank you, Garwin,” Anahi began. “Thank you for your wonderful introduction to my proposal.” She turned to the crowd. “My name is Anahi, and I am what you call a Woken. I was revived two years ago along with roughly half of the rest of the cryonically preserved. I wanted to speak to you today to give you my perspective on what’s been happening. To say things have not gone according to plan would be a gross understatement. People have died. People have been injured. As some of you are no doubt aware, we are already behind schedule according to the Manual.

“I’m sure a few may be pointing the finger of blame at the Natural Movement, whose terrorists and saboteurs we’ve unfortunately brought along with us. And you would be entitled to do that. It was they who precipitated the First Night Attack, and it was a Natural Movement terrorist who planted the bomb in this very stadium. But the Natural Movement are not the only ones at fault here.

“We, the Woken, must also take some of the responsibility for the problems that have occurred. It was we who unknowingly allowed Natural Movement members to infiltrate our ranks. It was we who were foolishly lax in putting security in place that might have prevented their terrorist acts. It was we who failed to anticipate the problems our new colony would encounter with native species.

“My friends, I’m here today because I want to tell you we wish to make amends. Though Earth’s best scientists did their utmost to create a viable plan for humanity’s first deep space colony, we could not conceive of how that plan would play out in reality. Here, in our new home, we are finding that the information brought to us by probes was inaccurate. This planet harbors far more dangers than we realized.

“But all is not lost. The Guardians are helping us root out the Natural Movement members, and we Woken can fix other problems. We can start anew, armed with fresh knowledge, gleaned from on-the-ground experience. We want to help, not only for our own sakes, but for yours. Nova Fortuna was built for you. This planet is yours.” Anahi held up a finger. “But.

“You need a new plan. A new Manual, written to see you through these fledgling days, based on everything we now know, and everything that our current experiments discover. We Woken need to be more proactive. Simply put, we need more control of the colony. I would like to propose that, while this emergency situation continues, Generational Colonists take a step back. When we have assessed what needs to be done, we will tell you. We will guide you as we did during your time aboard Nova Fortuna, as we guided your ancestors for generations.

“In order to do this, the next Leader should be a Woken.”

That did it. Angry murmurings had been growing around Cariad as Anahi spoke. At her last sentence, the murmuring broke out into yells and shouts. Expletives were hurled at Anahi. “Friends, friends,” she called. “Listen to me. Listen to what I have to say. This would be a temporary measure only, until... ”

The noise from the crowd was so loud it drowned her words. Anahi gave up and returned to her seat. Strongquist stepped forward. Simultaneously, Guardians appeared from the tunnels that led to the stadium field. Armed Guardians.

Cariad clutched her seat. No Guardians had carried weapons since the First Night Attack, when they had fired at the predators that had invaded the camp. Their firearms were slim, sleek weapons, clearly far in advance of the weapons brought aboard Nova Fortuna. She could hardly believe they were being used to control the Gens.

For it was the stands filled with Gens that the Guardians went toward. They let the Woken stand alone. A shocked hush settled on the crowd.

Strongquist began to speak. “Please, do not be alarmed. The armed guards are for your own safety. I understand that you are upset at Anahi’s proposal. I anticipated that it might not be well received, and I’m sorry to say that I was correct.

“I want to make it clear that we do not want anyone here today to be hurt. We want to protect you. That, after all, was our role during the First Night Attack, and that has been our aim since then. You have called us your Guardians, and we will not shirk that task. So, please, do not be alarmed. When emotions run high, crowds can get out of control and then people get hurt. Remain calmly in your seats, and no one will be in any danger.

“We will give more information about the election for the new Leader at a later date. Meanwhile, I would like to answer the many inquiries we have received about the state of things on Earth. Gens and Woken alike are naturally very curious about their old home. I wanted to take this opportunity to satisfy that curiosity. In order to do that, I have brought Faina here to speak to you. She is our captain. She can outline the pertinent facts for you.”

The Guardian woman stood. Her dark gray, short hair matched her uniform, and when she spoke, her voice was crisp and loud. “Gens, Woken, thank you for this opportunity. I acknowledge that the time for answers is long overdue, and I apologize for that. We felt that you were all psychologically vulnerable after the First Night Attack.”

Cariad and Ethan shared a puzzled look. Whatever the Guardian was about to say, it didn’t sound like anything good was coming up.

“I will first answer the question that’s on many lips,” Faina said. “I’m sorry, but there is no going back. It’s true that our ship travels faster than light. It’s also true that we could take some of you back to Earth tomorrow, but it is an Earth that none of you would want to live on. Earth is full and its resources depleted. Mars is full. Ganymede and Ceres are full. There is nowhere for you to go.

“Gens and Woken, your new home is a difficult place to live. There’s no denying it. But it’s your home. It must be, so you must make the best of it. The Guardians wholeheartedly endorse Anahi’s proposal that the next Leader should be a Woken. We are prepared to enforce this. This colony must succeed, and the Woken have the expertise to ensure it. We are lending them our support to safeguard everyone’s survival.”

Faina sat down and no one rose to take her place. The announcement was over. The armed Guardians moved away from the stands, walking backward toward the center of the field. It was the signal that the audience was free to leave, or perhaps that they had to leave.

The Gens filed silently out of their seats.

“I can’t believe it,” Cariad said quietly to Ethan as they stood to take their place going down the stairs.

“Me neither,” he replied. “There’s going to be trouble. The Gens already held a grudge against the Woken before this.”

“And Anahi doesn’t respect the Gens,” said Cariad. They reached the bottom of the stairs. “I want to talk to her. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Take care.”

Cariad sped around the edge of the field until she spied the person she wanted and walked quickly over. She caught up to Anahi as she was about to enter an exit tunnel. Strongquist, Faina, and Garwin were ahead of her.

The Woken stopped and turned when Cariad touched her arm. She pulled the older woman to the side of the tunnel, out of the way of the crowd.

“What the hell are you doing?” Cariad whispered fiercely. “Do you have any idea what you’ve started? They already dislike us.”

“So what? All children hate their parents. And that’s what they’re like. Children. They need our guidance and now they’re going to get it, whether they like it or not.”

“You’re an i***t,” Cariad hissed. “You’ve handed over military control to the Guardians. This isn’t supposed to be a military state. What’s wrong with you? We’re supposed to be building a new kind of society here. A better society. Not another Earth, with people murdering each other.”

“Ha,” Anahi exclaimed. “Weren’t you one of the ones who insisted on bringing weapons along? Look, the situation’s only temporary, okay? Until we get things back on track. I’m not prepared to sit around while some stupid Gens c**k everything up. When the colony is working, and when the Gens gain some more experience of living in the real world, then we’ll hand back control. But not until then.”

Maybe Anahi believed her own words. Cariad wasn’t sure. Maybe she really was that deluded. Whatever she thought, if history was anything to go by, the Woken had just started the events that were going to repeat it. A battle for independence and control was coming.

“I thought you were going to propose that we revive more Woken,” Cariad said. “Like you said at the final decanting.”

“Oh no,” Anahi replied. “Why would I propose that to the Gens? We don’t need their permission to restart the revival process. At least, now we don’t.”

Chapter Eight

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