As Second Will, Vartan had command of the small detachment that watched the Supervisor’s shuttle vanish off to the east; a final gleam of silver flashed as its sound faded away.
He turned, along with the rest, to stare warily around at the remarkable new world in which they found themselves. The hot sun felt like a miracle on his pale skin. How long had it been? Twenty years since he was last on Earth and had seen the sun? And then it had only been for a couple of hours total as he shuttled back and forth between classrooms. Most of his security training had been on Transluna given that his specialty was institutional security for factories, mines, processing plants, and the like.
“Smell that,” Tamil Kattan said reverently. The man closed his eyes, head back, sniffing the warm air. “Never smelled nothing like that in my life.”
“And listen to the sound. What is that? Like singing.” Wonder filled Shimal Kastakourias’s voice as the woman turned, staring out past the edge of the escarpment at the tops of the surrounding trees. Hands twitching with the early signs of prophecy, she shifted her feet, used her toes to scrape the loose dirt. “This is . . . a dream. The kind I never had before.”
“What do you think, Vart?” Tamil asked. “This is, like, too good to be true. All these buildings. That farm down there. It’s our own town.”
Vartan squinted around in the bright light, raised a hand to shield his eyes and take in the features of Tyson Station. The domes, the weathered sheds, the solar collectors down on the point.
“It’s a prison,” he decided. Laughed self-derisively. “No fences, no guards, but it’s still a prison.”
“The universe will provide,” Shimal told him. “The Prophets will guide us.”
Tamil was giving him that sidelong look. “You were Corporate security. What did you make of that orientation? That sample the doctor took. All the things that Perez woman said? More Corporate lies?”
Vartan shrugged. “They want tissue samples. Tells them who’s really here when they check it against the Ashanti records. As to Perez, she was telling the truth. There are dangers here. Why wouldn’t there be? It’s wilderness, yes? And we all know that guy, Donovan, was killed on this rock way back when.”
“The universe will see us through.” Shimal repeated the familiar mantra. And, maybe it would. It had gotten them this far.
Even as Vartan tried to absorb his surroundings, the doors from the admin dome opened to spew children, all of them whooping and running on their skinny little legs.
They were staring around as they jumped, pointing up at the sun, shielding their eyes. Some were so recently Initiated that their preliminary scars were still pink lines. Pho was in the back, having just lost the last of his scabs.
Didn’t take long, the gravity being what it was, for the exuberant dancing to taper off. It was replaced by wide-eyed exploration as the children fanned out about the complex, looking at this and that. Given that they’d never seen dirt, a sky, or even a plant, they were rapt.
Somebody ought to be keeping an eye on them, Vartan thought as he turned his steps for the admin dome.
Not his job. Petre had assigned him to ensure that Aguila had really left them alone. His next responsibility was a reconnaissance of the domes in order to develop a plan for their security.
Stepping inside, he made his way to the cafeteria, the smell of the food still lingering in the air. Damn! But that had been the most marvelous meal he’d ever eaten. Turned out he’d missed taste, had missed color, and open air, and . . . Well, so much.
His muscles, atrophied from all those years, pulled, and his lower back could feel the strain, but he made his way to the cafeteria, joining the group around the Messiah.
“Second Will, report?”
He nodded respectfully to the Messiah. “She’s gone. Disappeared into the east.”
“You were trained in security,” the Messiah noted, his eyes straying back toward the kitchen with a certain longing. Hell, they were all hungry. “What do you suggest we do next, Second Will?”
“Messiah, first thing, my task is to conduct a complete inspection of this place. Determine the lay of the land. Start an inventory of the station’s resources. We’ve got most of a day. We need to be organized by nightfall. The rest of the Will should assign lodging and duties. And someone has to be detailed to begin the next meal. I see that there are crates of provisions back there.”
“First Will?” The Messiah turned to Petre, “Can you do that?”
“Of course,” Petre bowed his white-haired head, the ponytail bobbing.
“See to your reconnaissance.” The Messiah turned back to Vartan. “Take a small group. I think there’s a map back in that pile on the rear table.”
“Messiah,” Vartan added. “The children . . .”
“Yes?”
“They’re running around outside. Unsupervised.”
“I have the women and young men attending to the placement of our belongings. If you think that’s a problem, detail Shyanne and Marta to keep track of them and make sure they’re safe.”
Vartan nodded and turned to leave.
“Second Will?” the Messiah called.
Vartan turned back, squirmed as that blue eye in the Messiah’s forehead seemed to bore into his soul.
“What do you make of this warning the Supervisor and that Perez woman gave us?”
“I think we should heed each and every one until we can separate the lies from reality here.”
The Messiah puckered his black-painted lips, sucked at them for a moment, and nodded. “I agree. While the universe has indeed brought us this far, it doesn’t expect us to be fools. Develop whatever security protocols you think necessary.”
Vartan fixed on Petre. “You and I should put our heads together and—”
“Deal with Tikal on that. I’m afraid the First Will and his picked team have other priorities,” the Messiah said, an absent look in his dark eyes. “He’s going to be arranging for our next meeting with the Supervisor. You saw the scars on the woman? That’s a sign, a warning from the universe itself. Worry about the wildlife and plants, yes, but ultimately, she might very well turn out to be the death of us.”
Vartan kept his expression neutral. Bowed his head again. “Of course, Messiah.”
“To defeat her, we must first reassure her. She must believe that we are not a threat. I need Shimal, who understands these things, to cause a malfunction in the solar panels. Something easy to fix that will require the Supervisor to send a party out. One that we can convince that we are humble, grateful, and thankful for our new home.”
“Of course, Messiah,” Vartan told the man. “I’ll see to it immediately.”
But as he walked off, he glanced back at the piles of boxes Aguila had left for them. Aguila might be the long-term threat, but he worried about the I’m-not-giving-you-shit tone in Talina Perez’s voice as she talked about the dangers surrounding them.
Seemed to Vartan that they’d be better off figuring out how to deal with Tyson’s dangers before going to war with Kalico Aguila and the rest of the planet.
Where the Prophets lay on their litters in the back, being tended to by the Chosen, Callista cried out, “Whaaa . . . whaaa . . . shoot.”
Watch out?
At the door he shot a look back at the Messiah. Hope you’re right about all of this.