The Fila Epiphany

  The Fila Epiphany

  Space Colony One Book 2

  J.J. Green

  Cover Design: Vivid Covers

  Editing: L.M. Lengel

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  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.

  Chapter Two

  After two days of searching, Ethan had been forced to conclude there were no survivors of the flooding at the caves. As he flew the flitter away from the last few remnants of the disaster that had been washed ashore, his mind turned to the journey that lay ahead of him.

  He’d been forced to pack hastily for his expedition, aware that injured Gens might be clinging to life on the beach, hoping for rescue. He had warm clothes and blankets, plenty of dried food, a full water tank, and a device that purified water. The portable appliance had been quickly put together by a mechanic called Osias. Ethan also had an instrument that tested for substances that were poisonous to humans. Cariad had advised him to only use it if he became desperate for food. The plant and animal life on Concordia could contain unknown toxins, she’d said.

  The most essential items Ethan had stowed in the flitter were two weapons. He had the gun he’d been issued as a farmer and a second weapon that Cariad had given him—one of the Guardians’ that she’d persuaded Strongquist to donate.

  Whenever Ethan left the flitter he would be vulnerable. As well as the creatures that had preyed upon the colonists during the First Night Attack, capturing and quickly digesting their victims, Concordia was also home to predatory aquatic thread organisms. Ethan’s friend, Cherry, had nearly been dragged into a lake by one of them.

  What other threats the planet held, Ethan didn’t know but he hoped to find out. Concordia wasn’t supposed to harbor any animal life any larger than the average insect, but the information the probes had sent back was inaccurate or it had been tampered with by Natural Movement followers. Now, no one knew what might be out there.

  Cariad had tried to persuade him to take an interface along. If he got into difficulties, he could comm the settlement and they could send a flitter out to rescue him. She’d said he would be able to access the network via satellite from anywhere on the planet. It might take a while to reach him, depending on how far he roamed, but it would be a safety net.

  But Ethan had refused. He knew he was risking his life by going off alone as he was. He couldn’t expect others to risk their lives too in order to help him. Also, he didn’t want to be in contact with the settlement. He couldn’t explain exactly why he felt so opposed to the idea, but it was something to do with the reason for his need to get away. His gut told him the answer to his problems lay in solitude out in the wilderness. The only electronic device he’d brought was a small recorder. It hung around his neck, ready to vid his journey and any organisms he came across, especially anything that seemed dangerous.

  Night was beginning to fall. The sun had set and the ocean waves and beach were growing shadowy in the dusk. Although the flitter had lights, Ethan preferred a full view of his surroundings in the uncharted territory. He would have to stop soon, but he decided to while away the short time remaining by recording the events of the previous two days. He turned on the recorder and began to speak.

  “This is Ethan, and it’s the third day of the fourth month, year one, Concordian Calendar. It looks like no one but Cherry survived the cave disaster. I haven’t managed to find anyone else still alive, though I saw one victim five minutes’ flight down the coast from the caves.” He paused and swallowed as he revisited the memory. “I was stupidly optimistic. When I saw the body, it didn’t occur to me that the person was probably dead. I flew straight at the figure, but then as I got closer, I realized that the body’s position and stillness could mean only one thing. I lowered the flitter to the sand and climbed out.

  “It was a man. He was lying face downward, the waves lapping at his feet, his arms at awkward angles. I lifted his shoulder and turned him over. His face was swollen and disfigured, and small sea creatures had already begun to eat it. I guess I should have made a vid of the creatures but I couldn’t bring myself to. The sight was too horrible. I backed up. It wasn’t possible for me to tell if I’d known the man.

  “I retraced my steps to the flitter. I called out several times, hoping other survivors might be lying nearby. When I didn’t hear a response, I took out a weapon and went to investigate the undergrowth, thinking someone could be unconscious in there and hadn’t heard me shouting. As I got close to the vegetation, I called out again, asking if there was anyone there and if they were injured. I told them to make a noise if they couldn’t reply. I didn’t hear anything.” All he’d heard was the waves on the shoreline.

  Ethan had recorded a vid of the plants that bordered the beach, which were different from the trees in the area surrounding the settlement. They were smooth-skinned and branched out from a central point in the ground. Each limb split into four or five more at intervals roughly as long as Ethan’s forearm. Cup-shaped receptacles stuck out from the ends of each branch.

  He’d peered be
tween the plant stems to look for survivors but hadn’t been able to see anything. The plants were clumped so closely together, it wouldn’t have been possible to move through them without leaving a trail of damage, and there’d been none that he could see. Leaving the undergrowth, he’d checked up and down the beach for signs of disturbance, but it was unsullied by any footprints other than his own.

  “I searched for hours that day and the next, but I didn’t find any more bodies. Even the wreckage of the supplies that had been washed out of the caves petered out quite soon. There are plants here on the shoreline that are different from any I’ve seen before, and animals have left tiny tracks on the sand, but otherwise I seem to be the only living thing for kilometers. I don’t go near the water so I don’t know what’s in the ocean. That’s it for now.” He turned off the recorder.

  Was that the kind of information he should be recording? He guessed so. He was the first explorer of Concordia and his discoveries could prove invaluable to the rest of the colony. Ethan resolved to record his observations every day.

  The sky was darkening quickly. Ethan brought up the flitter’s display, which showed a map of the local terrain. He spread the map wider with his fingertips. The settlement was at the corner of it now. In one direction lay his farm and the lake that bordered it. Cherry was taking care of his land while he was gone, though he didn’t know if he would ever want it back. He was finally doing what he’d always wanted to do, and not the occupation that the Manual’s role allocation system had decided for him.

  Cherry had been one of the few people he’d said goodbye to before he stowed the last of his goods on the flitter and drove through the gates of the settlement. Saying goodbye would have involved difficult conversations and questions that Ethan didn’t know how to answer.

  In another section of the map lay the ocean and the cave system that had recently been destroyed. The rest was unknown territory. The continent that Ethan was about to explore was the largest on the planet, which he assumed was one of the reasons it had been chosen as the site for humanity’s first deep space colony. He had plenty of space to roam. For the first time in a long time, a feeling of calm and peace settled over him. He closed the flitter’s roof, shutting out the rapidly cooling nighttime breeze.