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Chapter 3
(True Danziger)
It's official. It's sunset and there's been no anniversary anything. No party, no special dessert, not even an announcement. Absolutely nothing. Sometimes I hate it here.
Rather than sitting around the campfire at night telling stories like we used to, Dad and the others are always so busy. Now they're trying to figure out how to get Devon on the board – whatever good that'll do. It's not like they're going to listen to anything she says.
It's just me and Uly, sitting around. There's a bunch of kids across the way in the courtyard playing baseball. I'd love to join them but Uly can't. Those kids have made it clear they want nothing to do with him. Rather than doing something about it, my Dad has insisted that I not cause trouble.
Sometimes I get so mad at Uly. Why does he have to be so different? Wouldn't my life be easier if I could go play with the other kids? At least it might make things more interesting than endless chores and boring school work.
I don't see what the big deal is. Aren't all the problems between the adults? Since when are we like them? Why can't us kids just try to get along?
At least we have a few friends - Max, Lisa, Riley, and Peter. We've developed a code to set up secret meetings since their parents would go ballistic if they knew their kids were even speaking with us. Since most of them have the Syndrome, we're limited with activities. We play cards, VR games, and tell stories – lots of stories. Max's are the funniest. He can make Peter laugh so hard that whatever he's drinking comes shooting out of his nose. And the guys love scaring Lisa with ghost stories. It's just so easy! Of course, Uly tells the most exciting stories.
Maybe I could go join those kids playing baseball. Just this once. What would be the harm? They probably wouldn't even notice who I was. Everything doesn't have to be a political statement. Uly wouldn't care.
But…it doesn't feel like the right thing to do.
XXXXXXXXX
"Devon Adair. What brings you here?"
Isaiah Ford, the acting leader of New Pacifica, rose from a makeshift rectangular table to approach her. Initially the wiry yet muscular man had struck her as a loner. A man with no family and heavy gambling debts, he'd signed on to the Eden Project as a member of the Ops crew. Devon couldn't figure out why Isaiah had lobbied for this position. With no plans to settle here and no children of his own, he had no stake in the future of New Pacifica. His background stats hadn't suggested any ambition or leadership ability. Yet during those chaotic days after the Jamestown had landed, he seemed to naturally take charge. The colonists loved him and readily embraced his suggestions.
She nodded towards him, acknowledging his greeting, and then looked towards the other board members who were seated about the table in the meeting room.
The governing board consisted of ten members who were mostly Syndrome children parents, a few medical personnel and engineers. While most board members had not been well acquainted with politics on the Stations, they were a formidable group when it came to approving policies for the New Pacifica colony. Their determination, which had helped sustain the Eden Project over years of delays at the Stations, was a powerful force. Once they'd arrived at New Pacifica, they were still united by their concern for their children. But now another intense emotion motivated them as well: their fear of the Terrians.
"Have a seat." Isaiah gestured to a chair in front of the modular plastic table.
While his features wouldn't be considered handsome in a traditional sense along with his wispy brown cowlicks, he did exude his own charismatic charm. Especially those brown eyes flicked with gold. He could be especially persuasive when speaking before large groups.
The other members of the governing board sat before her. There were seven men and a woman. Having recently reviewed their biostats, she was well acquainted with each of them.
Devon chose to remain standing. Getting down to business, she stated, "I think you know why I'm here."
Due to the untimely accidental death of Harry Weimer, there was currently a vacancy that needed to be filled.
Samuel Gibbons, an older man with wrinkle lines about his eyes and closely cropped iron gray hair, said, "Devon, I'm a bit surprised that you're interested in this position. Don't you think you've done enough already? You've organized this trek across the stars, ran through miles of red tape, funded limitless research from your own personal fortune. And look at the hell you've been through, trekking across the wilderness for over two years. Now it's finally paying off. Isn't it time for you to sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labor?"
Devon silently fumed. They were trying to placate her. Sit back and relax and watch them destroy this planet? It would be a cold day in hell before she allowed that to happen. Slowly, consciously, she schooled her features to remain pleasant. She knew the game, she'd played it enough. It had been a while but that didn't mean she wasn't damn good at it.
She replied, "That's right. Thanks to all our hard work, we have chance for a new life. But we've seen that it doesn't come easily. Even before we left the Stations, we faced obstacles. Here they differ in nature yet we're still challenged to forge our way in this new world. Given my unique experiences on G889, I fully intend to be a part of that process."
"Devon, we're all grateful to have this opportunity. But, you haven't produced results," Bay Reines, a medical researcher with honey colored skin and finely chiseled features, claimed.
They'd been expecting her. And they'd even been strategizing about how to deal with her. This was hardball. But that didn't mean Devon couldn't take it.
Confidently, she responded, "I never promised you anything other than the chance at a new life. None of us knew what to expect. Dr. Vasquez hypothesized the absence of Earth was causing the Syndrome. The first five babies born in New Pacifica have been Syndrome-free. I'd call that a result – wouldn't you?"
"Thank God," John Ramos, a medical assistant and parent of a Syndrome child, mumbled.
"We still have over two hundred Syndrome children. At least fifteen of them will be turning eight this year. How will this help them?" Greg Harkens, an engineer with unruly red curls, asked. Unmarried, with a reputation for wildness, he had joined the expedition purely out of his sense of adventure.
Mentally Devon counted to five, trying to remain patient. She'd gotten into too many heated arguments on this topic. Losing her temper wouldn't help her achieve her goal.
"I've told you how to help them. Many times. I've begged you to trust the Terrians and allow them to heal your children."
Rather than continuing, she remembered Yale's advice to fight one battle at a time so she wouldn't belabor the point.
"That's not an option." Colin Faulkner visibly shuttered.
A successful business man on the Stations, Colin was used to being in control and had been reluctant to consider this venture. He was a handsome man with aristocratic features including finely formed eyebrows and a firm jaw line edged with a carefully trimmed beard. Despite limited choices, his clothing was always meticulous.
"Shouldn't you allow each family to make the choice? It's still there, waiting for you."
Devon tried to hold Colin's gaze, knowing that his son Max had recently turned eight years old. She hoped she still sounded convincing. At this point, after all the colony had done, she wasn't completely sure if the Terrians would heal their children.
Knowing this wouldn't accomplish her immediate goal, she tried to refocus the conversation. "Like I said before, I believe having a member of Eden Advance on the governing board would be an attribute. We've had experiences on this planet that will help us learn how to live here - a different perspective that we could learn from."
"Not more about the Terrians and their 'link to the planet'," Greg Harkens grumbled while others murmured as well.
"I don't give a damn about appeasing the natives," Isaiah loudly stated. He hadn't returned to his seat at the table; he'd observed the conversation from the side of the room. Others enthusiastically agreed. A few even clapped.
So it was going to be like that?
It was time to play dirty.
Devon strode before them, looking each member in the eye as she passed by. "I know all of you. Many of you I visited on Syndrome wards, offering you the choice to join me." Turning her gaze specifically towards Samuel, she added, "Some of you sought me."
The Gibbons family had been a last minute addition when they'd discovered that their fourth son, Peter, had the Syndrome. Samuel had petitioned her relentlessly, desperate for his family to become a part of the project. She'd been concerned about Samuel's advanced age and his potential contribution to the colony. Building a colony took a lot of physical labor. Each and every member of the community would need to contribute to maintain New Pacifica. Yet with three older healthy sons and Samuel's extensive experience with community planning, she'd decided the family would be an attribute for Eden Project.
Devon continued, "I interviewed and handpicked the pilots, the crews, the doctors. I wanted only the best for Eden Project. I commissioned extensive research to expedite the colonization process. I personally designed many of the structures for this community and invested all of my personal fortune into this venture."
It was the art of appearing pleasant yet sticking to one's guns. Of not stating the obvious but making sure it was heavily implied. It was a dirty business that she no longer had the stomach for.
It was working. Samuel Gibbons, John Ramos, and Guy Macket, parents of Syndrome children couldn't look her in the eye. Yet, it wasn't going to be that easy.
She hated to push but she sensed it would be the only way. Subtle guilt was a class act which she preferred. Blatant grandstanding was tacky. But under these circumstances, it was warranted.
"Let me put it to you this way. If I hadn't taken on the risks to organize the Eden Project, who would've? Would you have had the financial backing, Isaiah? How about you, Colin? Would any of you have been willing to risk your entire fortune? Did any of you have sufficient funds to invest in such a venture or the political clout to even make an appointment with Station officials? I doubt it. Not one of you would've taken this on. And then where would you be today?"
She was getting to them; they wouldn't look her in the eye.
"I took massive risks. I gave this project everything I had. I gave you all a chance at a new life. A chance for your children to survive. After all I've done for you, you owe me."
XXXXXXXX
"I still don't think it's a good idea," Baines said as he tinkered with a gear set.
"She's hurting," Danziger stated sadly.
The men were seated about a table in Baines and Walman's unit. Walman sat quietly beside the men.
"Yeah. And taking it out on everyone in sight. Is it a raw deal? You bet. I miss my buddy Walman too but I'm not tearing everyone a new one. Does Bess appreciate how much we look out for Morgan? She never says a word. Not a word! She acts like she doesn't know us. Like suddenly she's too good for us. I don't know how you think this is going to help."
Baines and Danziger were attempting to create a VR program that would recreate the illusion of Morgan Martin as he had once been.
"In fact, if anything, it could make things worse. What if after using the program reality is too much for her and she only wants to be in VR with him? That would be seriously messed up."
"I dunno. There's something to be said about the face-to-face approach, even when you know it's not real," Danziger replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
After his girlfriend Ellie's accident which occurred while performing repairs without proper drone support, he'd regularly visited her in the care facility, reporting mundane details of his day. He'd been overwhelmed with grief and the challenges of becoming a single father. Ellie had never told him that she was pregnant. Even though technically his girlfriend's body had been right in front him - alive and warm, she would never respond. Yet somehow speaking with her had helped him feel better. Even after they'd crashed onto G889, on occasion, he'd used his VR program to 'visit' Ellie.
Bess was in so much pain he figured it couldn't hurt.
Changing the subject, Danziger asked, "You hear the news about the Jamestown?"
"Yeah. Walman and I have been assigned there for the past few days working repairs."
"How's it coming along?"
"There's a lot of work. But it's doable. I'm thinking it'll take a month, maybe less to complete."
"You going back?"
Baines hesitated before speaking. "You know, if you'd asked me that when we first landed, I would've said 'Hell yeah!'. Now?" He shrugged. "I dunno. It's not that simple."
"You can say that again."
Looking sadly towards his buddy Walman, Baines said, "I wish…I wish we knew what he wanted. What's best for him."
"That's a tough one. The Stations might have resources to help Morgan and Walman better than we're doing. Does he have any family?"
Baines shrugged. "After fifty years, does it matter? Didn't Julia say the STIM program was a possibility?"
"Yeah, but that's not a permanent solution."
"By now, maybe they've perfected the technique."
Danziger considered it. "Yeah. Or maybe they've had their hands so full of Syndrome kids that all other medical research has come to a standstill."
"Shank, I hope that's not the case."
"Me too."
Even though the possibility of technological breakthroughs at the Station seemed promising, sending Walman and Morgan back to the Stations didn't seem right. While their minds weren't fully functional, both men were basically pleasant and eager to help. Each morning one of them was paired with a member of Eden Advance for work duty. Once they understood the objective of the day, Morgan and Walman were hard workers. They were also highly loyal and didn't respond well to changes or to Colony folk.
Those from the colony ship weren't sure what to make of Morgan and Walman, having not known them before the incident that altered them so radically. Even though they were seen more as victims, people from the Jamestown tended to avoid them.
"We're doing the best we can," Danziger sighed, feeling inadequate.
"I don't know…sometimes it does seem like the Terrians play favorites."
Danziger scowled. Those were dangerous words to say aloud. Over the final months on the road, Bess had ranted constantly about this.
"I don't claim to understand them. All I know is when we don't work with them, everything falls apart. I like staying alive," Danziger insisted.
"Me too."
XXXXX
After the sun sunk beneath the horizon, it grew colder. Julia zipped up her jacket and shoved her hands deeper into the pockets as she walked. Far from the compound, darkness surrounded her. The stars in the sky along with the ever-present dual moons illuminated her path.
It hadn't taken long for her to decide how to respond to the hastily scrawled note she and Alonzo had just found shoved under the door of their unit. Some of the Syndrome kids were nearing crisis. She had no choice, she had to go.
It could be a setup to ambush Julia. Many of the colonists had been cruel to her due to her intimate association with Alonzo. Last time Alonzo had insisted upon accompanying her. Tonight, she'd managed to convince him that she could handle the situation herself. She had her gear and was adept at defending herself. And she was more than willing to take such chances if it might result in a child being healed
Using a lumalight, she located the large boulder mentioned in the note. Then she waited, listening to the waves hitting the beach.
About fifteen minutes later, a lone figure approaching caught her attention. From the slender silhouette she could discern it was a woman.
"Dr. Heller?"
"Yes."
The woman caught up to her. It was Audrey Brighton. Julia had seen her huddled about her daughter's hospital bed. Claire was in decline, experiencing more frequent respiratory difficulties. She might have months left. Or weeks.
"Is there anything you can do?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Julia didn't need any more information. There was only one reason this woman would arrange to meet her secretly.
"We can speak with the Terrians about healing her."
The woman cringed and looked over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be eavesdropping on them. "Isn't there anything else? Some herb or stream to bath in?"
Disgusted, Julia replied, "Look, no one's around. We can talk freely. If anything like that existed, we would've shared it with everyone when we arrived. Healing by the Terrians is the only way."
"Oh," she sighed. "Does it hurt?"
"Not according to Uly."
"What do they want…in exchange?"
"I…I don't really know. As far as I can tell, the Terrians want us to respect their planet and live in a way that won't harm it."
"How do the healed Syndrome children fit in?" she nervously asked.
Julia paused, not sure how to proceed. She didn't exactly know. No one did, except the Terrians. Council Agent Reilly had spoken of the healed Syndrome children being a link between their species. She suspected the Terrians had much grander plans for these children and that more significant changes might manifest themselves once they hit adolescence. But that might be too much for Audrey to handle at the moment.
"I'm not sure."
"She won't be normal," Audrey said sadly.
Julia huffed, "Why do you say that? Uly is just as human as you and me. He loves, laughs, cries, and tells bad jokes. He acts like a normal kid. Don't believe the rumors. Why don't you talk with him to assure yourself of that? He can even tell you about the healing."
"But…hasn't he lost his soul?"
That woman had to stop listening to the rumor mill. Julia stifled the urge to throttle her.
"Talk to him. Get the information for yourself – first hand. Then make your decision."
"My husband would never approve," she mumbled.
Leon Brighton had been an engineer back on the Stations. Short in stature and reserved in nature, he'd tended to keep to himself. Preening under the attention garnered him as a board member at New Pacifica, he'd become more confident and expressive regarding his opinions.
"What about how you feel? Wouldn't you prefer that your daughter have many more healthy years?"
"What about the trances?"
The Jamestown crew had developed their own vocabulary when it came to the Terrains. To them, dreaming with the Terrians amounted to being possessed. It took Julia a moment to translate.
"That's how Uly and Alonzo speak with the Terrians on the Dream Plane. It's like having a dream. What's the trouble there?"
"I want to learn more. But I can't. If I ask questions, he'll find out. My husband is on the governing board. He'd never stand for it."
"Then I'll help you be discrete. I can arrange for you to meet secretly with Uly so you can ask your questions. I know it's hard for you but is it worth risking your daughter's life? There are no other options."
"What about the inhaler with the new meds that Dr. Vasquez used on Claire the other day? Is that a possibility?"
While the new meds sustained the breathing passages for longer than other agents, the effect was temporary at best. It irked Julia that Dr. Vasquez wasted the medical staff's time developing these types of compounds when the answer was clearly in front of them.
"That's only experimental. And it's not even a cure. Under the best case scenario, the meds would need to be administered constantly."
Desperate, Audrey asked, "But it could be a possibility?"
"Look, it's your choice. To me, having my daughter being able to laugh and play versus being limited by debilitating illness is a no brainer. I'll be happy to help you when you decide you want to have the Terrians heal her. Contact me anytime – day or night."
XXXXXXXXXXXX
"Congratulations." Yale called as Devon walked into their unit.
"I had to guilt them into it," Devon said as she sank onto a chair opposite him.
"You did what you had to do. With people drowning us out during town meetings and at every other public gathering, it's the only way to get an audience with them. At least you'll be heard."
"But will that be enough?" She yawned, feeling too tired to chat. "Uly okay?"
"He's in bed, though I doubt he's sleeping."
Devon smiled, knowing her son's preference to read in bed.
She rose. "Let's talk more in the morning. I need to go to bed. Good night, Yale."
"Good night, Devon."
After briefly popping by Uly's room to say goodnight, she trudged to her bedroom. Changing into night clothes, she lay on her bed. She'd accomplished what she wanted. Why didn't she feel more satisfaction? Devon wasn't used to having such doubts. Typically she'd been willing to take on anything; a positive attitude and lots of determination usually did the trick. She'd been able to tackle things. Was she just getting older? As John and Julia continually reminded her, the Council poison had substantially weakened her. She suspected it could be a combination of both factors.
She couldn't get rid of that nagging feeling that she was forgetting something important. But nothing was coming to her. The dreaded board meeting was over with her goal accomplished. Uly was safely tucked in his bed. She wasn't sure where John was but he'd come by later. While he'd be interested in her news, she wanted to give him some space, sensing he was brooding about the status of their relationship. She didn't have the energy to address that now.
As she lay in bed, she wondered if she was being fair to Danziger, keeping their relationship private. Admittedly, secret was the better word. And if she were being honest, most members of Eden Advance were fully aware that they were a couple in every sense of the word. Did John think she was ashamed of him? Had the trappings of society in New Pacifica influenced both she and him to maintain old roles and habits? Did it have to be that way?
Why was she insisting on keeping their relationship a secret?
After detouring last summer to avoid the deadly red-vined country that the Terrians had warned them about, they'd had to set up another winter camp. Up to that point, her romantic encounters with John had been sporadic; they'd seized available moments whenever possible. They'd made sure to place their winter quarters in the caves close together. She'd ended up spending most of the nights in his bed since Yale was available to watch Uly. She and John no longer slept in the same rooms as their children, claiming they were getting older and needed privacy.
When the caravan resumed, it had become a habit almost impossible to break.
He would come tonight. She needed him.
Was she ashamed of John Danziger?
Of course not.
Her own status had dramatically altered over the past years. A well respected wealthy woman of influence had become a social pariah on the Stations. Only this band of over a thousand people had revered her, held her up as their savior as they sought to save their children. Then everything had changed again once they'd arrived at New Pacifica. While she'd never wanted to be worshiped, their out-right rejection stung. The abuse heaped upon her son was the worst. She quickly learned that any interference from her only made it worse for him. It was killing her. Ironically enough, it was almost harder on her than on Uly.
What was it that she was forgetting?
She strove to distract herself, to think of something positive, something to keep her awake as she waited in bed for John. She was pleased Uly and True had a small group of friends who were interested in learning more about the Terrians. Initially when she'd heard about this, she'd been tempted to zero in on their parents. The kids had assured her that wouldn't be a good idea, that they'd approach her when they were ready. Devon hoped they'd seek her out before it was too late for their children.
Or maybe it was already?
Had the colonists' actions completely alienated the Terrians?
Her eyelids felt so heavy, it would be nearly impossible to open them. John would have to wake her up when he arrived. She started to doze.
Her eyes suddenly flew open. She remembered.
She was more than three weeks late.
TBC
