The Fila Epiphany

Chapter One From out of a clear blue sky the shuttle descended. A glint of sunlight on its metal skin was the first sign, then the vessel itself appeared. Snub-nosed, wedge-winged, it swooped down from the upper atmosphere gracefully. Then it blew apart. A fireball split the hull into flaming pieces and shattered the wings. A heartbeat later the deafening explosion arrived. Shattered wreckage shot out across the sky at crazy angles, spinning, whirling, and finally falling like fiery hailstones. Screams of those watching mixed with the thuds and clanks of smoking fragments hitting the ground. Cariad would never forget the first time she saw the vid of the shuttle explosion, which had arrived on her interface screen only a minute after it happened. Horror and dismay had gripped her. She’d nearly been sick. Next came the realization that she was supposed to be aboard the craft. A dreadful, guilty relief had flooded her. Now, as she gazed at the carefully collected and tagged remnants that the Guardians had collected, the vivid memory of the disaster and its accompanying emotions washed over her again. “Are you feeling all right?” Strongquist asked. Cariad had almost forgotten the Guardian standing beside her. “Yes. I’m okay. Just remembering.” “It was a terrible shock to the colony,” Strongquist remarked. “Weren’t you scheduled to be aboard?” “I was.” Cariad glanced at Strongquist. It was a surreptitious peek that had become somewhat of a habit. She still found it hard to believe that her companion wasn’t human. Ever since the Guardians had confessed they were androids, she had become almost obsessed with trying to find visual evidence of their artificiality. As always, she could see nothing that gave it away. Yet the creepy feeling the Guardians had given her right from their arrival had increased tenfold. “You were very lucky,” Strongquist remarked. “What? Oh, yes. Yes, I was.” They were inside the large warehouse the Guardians had built to store the debris from the shuttle explosion. The place was so large they had been forced to build it outside the settlement site, which was already becoming cramped as the planned buildings went up. The warehouse was therefore also outside the electric fence that protected the colonists from the local predatory wildlife. It was daylight, which meant the threat of an attack was minimal, but Cariad was uncomfortable nevertheless. Her and Strongquist’s voices echoed in the large space and the artificial lights were painfully bright. “All the evidence we found during our investigations of the stadium bombing and the shuttle explosion is in the Mistral’s database,” Strongquist replied, “but I thought it might be helpful if I pointed out the most significant pieces of wreckage and explain their importance. You can ask me any questions you may have before I deactivate.” “Right. So what is it you want to show me?” Strongquist set off across the gruesome sea of shuttle remains and Cariad followed him, carefully tiptoeing between the pieces to avoid disturbing them. She wanted to get this transfer of responsibility for the investigation into the Natural Movement saboteurs over as quickly as possible. After realizing the detrimental effect of their presence to the colony, the rest of the Guardians had already deactivated. Strongquist would be the last of them to voluntarily put himself in suspension for an undefined duration, possibly forever. Cariad could hardly wait. The two groups of colonists—the Gens, descended from the first contingent of passengers aboard the Nova Fortuna, and the Woken, who had spent the nearly two-hundred-year journey in cryonic suspension—would finally be able to learn how to work together to survive. With the Guardians out of the way, only the Natural Movement would remain as a fat fly wriggling in the ointment. Determined to prevent the success of humanity’s first deep space endeavor because it was not how humans were “supposed” to live, the movement’s followers had terrorized the colonists since their first night planetside. “Here we are,” said Strongquist. He’d brought Cariad to a corner of the warehouse where tiny pieces of shuttle strewed the ground like macabre, twisted, metallic confetti. “What did this use to be?” Cariad asked, wondering if the Guardians had even managed to identify the minute scraps. “We believe these pieces are all from an area around the fuel supply. Material of this composition isn’t found anywhere else on the Nova Fortuna’s shuttles.” “Did you find the fuel supply section itself?” Cariad asked. “No. We found no sign of it despite extensive searching. We concluded that it must have been atomized by the explosion.” “So do you think that’s where the bomb was?” “We made that inference, yes. It makes sense that if the bomb immediately exploded the fuel that it would increase the devastation. A bomb in another section of the shuttle might not have had the same effect. If the vessel had only been blown in half, for example, it was so close to the ground there would have been a slim chance of survivors. The shuttles were built for maximum safety.” “If only they’d been built to prevent sabotage,” Cariad said. “Indeed. It’s reassuring that you came to the same conclusion as we did so quickly. Perhaps you’ll have more success in the investigation than us.” “I’m certainly going to try my best. It’s clear that the saboteur knew what they were doing by attaching the bomb to the fuel supply.” “Yes,” Strongquist said. “Do you know where that section is on the shuttles?” “I’m not sure. Isn’t it under the tail?” “It is, but very few Gens would know that.” “Okay. I get it,” Cariad said. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more than that regarding this detail,” the Guardian said. “Well, we have the Natural Movement tattoo that we found on our suicide, Twyla,” Cariad said. “Dr. Montfort is carrying out full body examinations of every colonist. By the way, there’s something I forgot to ask you—how did you identify the saboteur on the First Night Attack?” “You’ll find extensive records in the Mistral’s database, but basically, several people volunteered the information that a woman had been loitering around the switch on the electric fence that day as dusk was falling. After we apprehended her, we had barely begun to question her when she confessed, just like that. She said she would rather die than live unnaturally on an alien planet, though when the time came for her execution, her fear showed. I wonder now if she gave up so easily in order to throw us off the scent. At the time, I don’t think anyone suspected that there might be other saboteurs.” “I think you’re right. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?” Cariad was itching to leave. The pressure of threats from outside and within the colony bore down on her. There was so much she had to do. “Yes. You should know that the chemicals used to create both the stadium and the shuttle bomb were the same. The main ingredient of both bombs was derived from fertilizer.” “Fertilizer? So one of the terrorists could be a farmer?” “Possibly, but I believe the connection is weak. Anyone could have accessed the supplies. However, the fertilizer wasn’t used in its original form. It was refined.” Cariad said, “All right. I understand. Refining chemicals isn’t typical knowledge for a Gen. Perhaps it was information that was passed down along with their central beliefs.” Strongquist acknowledged her response with a nod. “Would you like to accompany me to the Mistral? It will give you the opportunity to ask me anything you feel is important before I deactivate.” They stepped carefully between the shuttle remnants as they went to the warehouse doors. Outside, the soft sunshine was a pleasant contrast to the artificial glare inside the warehouse. They walked the short distance to the settlement fence, treading over the rubbery ground cover that clothed the open space. Tall fern-like plants dotted the landscape. Inside the protective fence the streets were busy. The Gens were re-settling the tiny town after the most recent Natural Movement sabotage had destroyed their breakaway settlement at an oceanside cave system. Cariad and Strongquist navigated the streets that led to the shuttle field. Although her new responsibility weighed heavily on her, Cariad was glad of the distraction. She had said good bye to her Gen friend, Ethan, only two days previously and she already missed him badly. Even the task she had of replenishing the colony’s gene pool after the great loss of life hadn’t been sufficient to stop her constantly worrying about him. She was also worried by Strongquist’s earlier revelation that a nearby star system held sentient life. Though the presence of extraterrestrial intelligent life forms was an amazing discovery, there was no way to tell whether they were friendly. In its current state, Concordia could not withstand an attack. The truth was, the situation on Concordia was dire. Not for the first time, Cariad wondered whether giving up her life on Earth and leaving behind her family and friends had been worth it. But she had no choice except to go on.