Chapter Thirty-Seven

CAPTAIN SANDERS’S LOG detailed a long, melancholy winter. Dr. Rupu Singh had managed to save a few of the bean plants and was able to sew anew from the harvest. But the resultant crops yielded little since they had few plants to work with.

Two figures who made regular appearances in Sanders’s notes were Brent Alcorn and John Paine. Paine was a so-called “sponsor guest”—a euphemism to indicate he’d paid for his seat on the Genesis. Alcorn, on the other hand, had been one of the program’s settlers. Despite their very different backgrounds, the two men seemed to have connected in mutual opposition to Sanders.

As the captain told it, their opposition sprang from discontent rather than any particular grievance. They didn’t have solutions to the problems they all faced; they only had complaints. And they preyed on the general discomfort and disappointments that arose during the settlement process to fan whatever flames of discontent they stumbled upon.

Even from the reading, I could tell things were heading for a showdown, and as spring rolled around, it came.

Day 254

Came back with scouting party to find that Alcorn’s crew had made off with a number of MREs and some supplies. Roughed Roach up to get his key; broken nose and two fractured ribs. For the record, Roach put up a strong defense but was vastly outnumbered.

Alcorn and about two dozen men disappeared into the forest, apparently with the intention of setting up a settlement of their own. Paine among them.

Did not pursue; no way to compel them to return without violence. Truth be told, at this point, even if there was a way, I’d be hesitant to attempt it. I wish them well, but frankly, I would not be sorry to see them stay away.

Since they’re the laziest bunch of the crew, though, I fear we’ll see them back sooner rather than later—as soon as the food is gone. Then they’ll come crawling back expecting a welcome.

 

Sanders’s prediction turned out to be partially accurate, although the manner of return was not what he’d envisioned.

Day 289

Son-of-a-bitch Paine showed up before sunrise, while we were all still asleep. He and a handful of the crew made off with another two crates of MREs. Warren saw them heading toward the mountains.

If we cut rations to bare minimum, this leaves us with about one month of food.

Warren advises pursuing and retaking supplies. He’s right that we need them. But if I pursue, it will end in bloodshed.

First harvest of wheat almost ready, and Rupu’s garden is going well. I can’t in good conscience sanction an expedition that will lead to death, even if it is one of those bastards. We’ve already lost too many. We will have food soon.

 

Day 297

Watchtower complete. Trees are monsters. Incredible height. I wonder how old they are? Climbing to the top is more than a little nerve-racking though. It took me a full five minutes to recover my breath; nerves in conjunction with low oxygen and the climb.

Still, the view is remarkable. This forest is huge.

 

Day 298

Wheat harvest begins today.

 

Day 304

Harvest complete. Fair yields. Of course, the harvester is gone (it vanished with the rest of the ship), so we’re threshing by hand. Everyone is exhausted. Bueller is working on a watermill meanwhile, and Richards is trying to figure out how to work with Kepler ingredients to make something that doesn’t taste like sawdust. His early cakes and crackers haven’t been promising.

But they’re fresh and warm and not from a package. So that’s something.

 

Day 313

Found out from some of the crew that Alcorn has been coming back around, trying to recruit more to his little experiment. They’ve set up camp by the lava outflow, apparently. Warmer temperatures. Doesn’t sound like they’re even attempting any sort of agricultural endeavors though.

How do they expect to eat once the MREs run out?

 

Day 321

About fifteen more members of the crew vanished last night, taking their gear and a few sacks of wheat with them. Tracks heading toward the mountains.

 

Day 322

Another exodus last night. Seven men from the threshing crew, following the others.

Grumblings from the remaining crew that the workload is going to increase now. Goddamn it, we lost almost two hundred able bodies coming into orbit…why couldn’t Alcorn and Paine have been in that bunch?

Harris reports first pregnancy from the crew. Jane Garrison, about two months along. Father is Bill Eaton. They’re excited but nervous.

 

Day 328

Woke to gunfire this morning. My God. It’s come to this.

It started as a raid on the gardens. Roach was on watch, spotted Alcorn and three of his people creeping through the fields. He sounded the alarm.

He caught them red-handed with bags full of crops. Our crops, our food. They refused to surrender their stolen goods. Roach grabbed at a sack Paine was carrying.

Paine put a knife through his neck and ran for the forest. Warren gave the order to open fire.

Roach is dead. Paine and Rivers are dead. Thank God, Alcorn and Forrest made it out alive.

I’ve relieved Warren of command. Paine deserved a trial, not being gunned down. Rivers wasn’t guilty at all.

I am bound to note Warren’s official objections in the record. He believes he was justified in using lethal force to protect other lives. He urges treating Alcorn’s crew as hostile and taking military action against them. He feels (without evidence) that Alcorn was responsible for the greenhouse fiasco, as well as the early MRE thefts, and poses a present threat to our safety and food supply. After Lieutenant Roach’s death, he would have me treat the entire force as hostile.

Civilians. He would have me make war on civilians.

What have we become?

 

Day 331

Warren has taken to sleeping in the watchtower, armed. He is officially relieved of duty, but I have not confiscated his sidearm.

I am beginning to wonder if that was a mistake.

Amazingly, many of our settlers are on Warren’s side. Paine was never popular, and Lieutenant Roach’s death has galvanized them into opposition to his allies. I miss Roach, and his death was tragic. But to hold everyone guilty for Paine’s actions?

Tomorrow, I will be setting out to find Alcorn’s encampment. It is clear I cannot let matters stand, or there will be more bloodshed. Warren was in command at my direction, so the responsibility for his mistake is mine.

I will make peace between us or die in the attempt.

 

Day 342

Returned to the lava flow. I understand the appeal of the spot, as the entire area is warmer than the forest, and the tunnels are expansive and sheltered from the wind and elements. But there is no fertile land for farming.

I found where they had been camping, but the site was deserted. Lost their tracks in the mountains, so here I am, back at the ship.

I’m not sure what that means. Are they striking out to new territory? Maybe they’ve realized that raiding us isn’t going to be a viable long-term option.

Somehow, though, I can’t shake the grim feeling in the pit of my stomach.

 

Day 344

Corn showing promise. First harvests of beans complete, more to come. Rupu says we planted too late last year, but this year should be much better.

Finally, some good news.

 

Day 346

Warren telling me he’s spotted scouts around the outskirts of the farm. He thinks Alcorn is planning something.

He’s become so paranoid lately that I don’t know if I can believe him or not. Searched for evidence that we had company but could not find anything.

Still, I’m doubling the guard tonight as a precaution. Probably a waste of manpower, but better safe than sorry.

 

Day 347

Sergeant Markeson reports spotting figures during watch last night. I guess Warren wasn’t seeing things after all. Will keep the watch at heightened levels.

What the hell is Alcorn playing at?

 

Day 350

Quiet for the past few days. No new sightings, but continuing to maintain watch levels.

 

Day 353

Warren wants me to work on fortifications. Medieval shit: pits and palisade walls and traps. Thinks we should start building some sort of tree fort. He’s got schematics and layout plans and everything.

It’s finally come to it, I guess. Demanded his weapon, and recommended him to Dr. Harris for an eval.

 

Day 354

Harris cleared Warren. I gave him his firearm back, with reservations. He’s talking like a crazy person, but the doctor is telling me he’s not crazy. Harris better know what he’s doing.

 

Day 356

Warren is apparently quite serious about the tree fort thing. Going on about being more defensible off the ground. He’s been spending his time up there, constructing God knows what. Unfortunately, he’s got a couple of the settlers wrapped up in this fever, and they’re working with him on their own time. At least he’s out of my hair.

 

Day 359

Goddamn it, I knew it would come to this.

Alcorn and about fifteen others stormed the place last night, looking for Warren. Told the men to hold their fire. No one was injured beyond some roughing up.

But Alcorn is pissed. Accusing us of murder. Thought we were hiding Warren, keeping him from justice, and so on. Alcorn’s flair for drama, it should be noted, has not diminished in his time in the wilderness; on the contrary, it seems to have grown from a penchant to a way of life. Framing himself as a moral crusader against tyranny. Tried to reason with him, but he was having none of it. Luckily, Warren was not around, or there would have certainly been more bloodshed.

Alcorn left peacefully but not before demanding, most theatrically, that if I intended to shoot them all anyway, damn it, be done with it already. “Or else let us have our settlements, too, without fear of being murdered!”

Seems to forget that it was that son-of-a-bitch Paine who drew the first blood. And now it seems they want Warren’s hide.

As for Warren…on this, at least, his paranoia might actually be well founded; Alcorn looked like he was out for blood.

 

Day 360

Should have known all that moralizing was just a cover. Son of a bitch was here to recruit. He kept me occupied while his people reached out to their friends among the crew.

About two dozen more absences this morning. And they got to Sergeant Strauss; Strauss had one of the keys to the armory, and the son of a bitch took a bunch of ammo and weapons with him. No good will come of that.

 

Day 365

Quiet. Crops continuing to grow well. Rarely see Warren anymore, so I guess his treehouse project must be progressing.

 

Day 367

Alcorn stopped by again. Just him this time. He’s looking awfully lean these days. He was armed with one of the stolen pistols.

Seemed conciliatory. Refused to return stolen weapons but said they needed them to survive, to hunt, and to protect themselves against wildlife.

Said he was willing to trade, crops for meat. Problem is we still haven’t found any meat that’s worth eating, and neither have they. But he says they’ve got hunting parties looking. “They’re bound to find something. And we may not see eye to eye, David, but in the end, we both want what’s best for this crew. And if we find a food source, we won’t hide it from you guys.”

I’m willing to rebuild bridges, and told him so. We’ll see what comes of it.

 

Day 368

Well, it looks like Warren hasn’t been wasting time. Harris stopped by today. Another pregnancy. Jessica Ivers—and Warren.

Wonder if he’s filled her in on his little tree house ambitions and how she feels about raising the next Tarzan?

 

Day 369

Hardwick didn’t show up for work this morning. Farm crew reported him missing.

I thought he might have been another defector to Alcorn’s band, but we found him down by the river. Stoned out of his mind. He’d been smoking some sort of brown lichen plant. First I’ve seen of it. No idea where he got it, and he was too out of his senses to respond to inquiries.

Harris has him under observation. What the hell possessed him to smoke a random weed?

 

Day 370

Well, Hardwick’s not in danger (unless it’s that I’ll strangle him for being an imbecile). It turns out there’s less mystery to this than I’d thought.

I’m not the only one Alcorn has been making overtures toward, but he’s not interested in a bartering game. Hardwick’s high was traded for a bag of flour. The plant, apparently, grows in hot temperatures, so it’s plentiful around the lava flow.

And, naturally, Alcorn and his people figured out it had extra-medicinal properties. No wonder they’re not bothering to grow crops; they’ve found something much more entertaining than work.

 

Day 377

What a week. That bastard Alcorn has been peddling the lichen to whoever will try it; he’s got his own black market going. We’ve had quite a bit of produce go missing, stolen for these black-market trades. Half the farming crew has been out at one point or another throughout the week, and plenty of the rest of the workforce too. Falk laid up due to a bad reaction. Seems unique to him, but concerning; he’s developed muscle spasms and convulsions.

What’s more, we lost about thirty people this week. Largest defection yet, and all because they’ve found this damned drug.

I feel at this point I have no choice. Alcorn is, and is determined to remain, a threat to the prospects of this mission. I’ve drawn up charges against him and issued an order for his arrest. Accessory to Lt. Roach’s death, theft of various property, contributing to crew delinquency, etc. The crew is aware and understands that materially aiding him is also an act against the settlement. Ash lichen use prohibited.

There will be no charges for anyone who has worked with him up to this point. There is a place for everyone in this crew, and I’ll be happy to welcome any of them back. Alcorn, as far as I can tell, is the only obstacle to that actually happening.

In good news, two more expectant couples checked in with Dr. Harris this week.

 

Day 380

More defections. More theft. I’ve increased the guard, but it’s impossible to secure the fields and the garden and the mill, as well as the ship’s storerooms. Can only hope we catch that son of a bitch sooner than later.

 

Day 381

Well, Ivers has moved into the trees with Warren. What the hell a pregnant woman is going to do living in a tree house is beyond me, but I’ve got more important things to worry about with Alcorn. Crew dissatisfaction high about banning the use of the ash lichen.

 

Day 383

Warren has brought down a selection of fruits and nuts he’s found in the trees for analysis. Says the pine nuts are particularly plentiful. May be some point to his Tarzan routine after all.

 

Day 384

Found Sergeant Martin at the mill today. Dead. Shot dead, mill ransacked. There wasn’t much, but all the grain we had there is gone and so was Martin’s weapon. Tracks led toward the lava flow.

God forgive me. But I’ve issued the order to shoot Alcorn on sight.

 

Day 387

Fire and blood. Today has been a day of fire and blood, the twilight of our humanity on this hellish rock. Fire and blood, murder and death: this is what has become of the Genesis mission.

It started before dawn. The watchman spotted movement in the forest. I had given strict orders that Alcorn, and only Alcorn, was the target. We were not going to kill civilians. They sounded the alarm but did not shoot. As I told them.

Alcorn’s men swarmed the ship, making their way to the weapons locker. Their numbers were great, and we held our fire. Again, on my orders. Tried to stop them by using nonlethal means. We were overwhelmed; some of the crew joined on our side, and a few on theirs.

When they had the guns they wanted, they retreated, opening fire on anyone who tried to stop them.

I gave the command to return fire. We killed a few of theirs but most escaped into the forest.

Alcorn—the lunatic—hadn’t been content merely to kill and rob us. He’d sent men to the fields. They had butchered the guards and burned everything that would catch fire. The corn was ablaze when we emerged from the ship.

I suppose it had been his escape plan—to distract us from pursuit by putting our food source to the torch. It worked.

But, my God, what does he think he’s accomplished in the long-term? What good is steel, without food? He has taken many of our guns now. So what, when he has burned the crops that we—and he—have relied on for survival?

I’ve reinstated Warren to active duty and given him the go-ahead for his fortifications. Either he was right, or I’m as fucking crazy as he is. At this point, I don’t even know.

 

Day 388

The crops are still smoldering. There is little left that has not been destroyed. We had feared the start of a forest fire, but the live trees are too wet to burn.

Warren is requesting permission to lead a party in pursuit of Alcorn. It would be a search-and-destroy mission.

I see now that Warren understood Alcorn’s character when I did not. But what he proposes is at once morally and strategically indefensible. The sort of losses we’d take in an attack would all but ensure failure for the mission. Their forces are armed and numerous, and we’d be going into their territory. Even if we were sufficiently positioned…hunting a group of civilians down for extermination?

If that’s our best option, what are we fighting for?

I’ve rejected his request. We will focus on fortifications and defense. Alcorn will not take us by surprise again.

 

Day 392

Rupu cleared the pine nuts and tree berries for consumption. We may not starve this winter after all.

I visited Warren’s tree community today. Progress is remarkable. The huts are invisible from the ground. Completely hidden behind branches. And the trees are strong, with giant limbs that can support whole structures.

Getting between them, though, is frankly traumatizing. Right now, they’re connected by planks. This won’t work, especially once the kids start arriving. Warren’s working with some of the engineers to redesign infrastructure.

I must be losing my mind because this is actually starting to sound like a good idea to me.

 

Day 411

Another attempted attack today. We killed three of them before they fled. Unfortunately, Alcorn wasn’t among them.

On high alert.

 

Day 413

All quiet. Building going well. Warren is working the men like a slave driver, but he’s doing as much as any of them. And after the last month, no one is complaining. We want these habitations ready before the weather gets too cold.

And now that we know the trees, unlike the dead wood, will not burn, it seems we’ll be that much safer from sabotage.