The Alien Artifact: Settler's Chronicles, #4

By Jeannette Bedard

In the action-packed series finale, Margo Murphy is on the warpath.

 

Life on Thesan is stable, almost ordinary -- just what Margo wants. She thinks the colony's challenges are behind them. She thinks it is time to start building her life with her husband, Gary. But her biggest challenge is yet to come.

 

The colony needs an income, and the rich deposits of minerals on the planet's surface offer a solution. But when the eagerly-anticipated mining ship arrives, Margo suspects it has a hidden agenda. Nigel West is still out there, and the colony he's tried and failed to destroy now also harbours rebels that his Conglomerate would love to get their hands on.

 

When the mining ship reveals its evil plans and kidnaps two of the colonists, Margo leads the team to get them back. Outgunned, outnumbered, and out of time, they attack the invaders in normal and virtual space in an attempt to rescue their people. But is it enough?

 

Fighting in a last-ditch effort to save her fellow colonists, her family and now the future of humanity, Margo has to win…and all she has is a sledgehammer and her wits.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeannette Bedard
• Release date: Jun 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781777254704

Book preview

Chapter One

Executing step thirty-one on her hourly checklist, Peggy swept through the colony’s camera feeds. As one kernel processed the images, she used another to confirm the time. It was 05:11 hours, making this her final round through her list for the night.

The morning shift started at 06:00 hours. A human operations technician would take over, allowing her to move on to more complex tasks. Computations more suited to her processing powers were waiting for her attention. Normally, this time of day left her bored, but today would be different—they were expecting visitors.

In the compartments for humans, illumination cycled to the lowest level. Over the next half-hour the lighting would slowly increase, creating a simulated dawn. However, few would notice as most colonists still slept, and would for a while yet. The colony’s lighting kept everyone’s circadian rhythms in tune since their adopted world experienced continuous sunlight punctuated with a week of darkness every five years—not ideal conditions for a human to get a proper night sleep.

As she panned a camera through the garden at the centre of the residential quarter, she detected unexpected motion. Adjusting her sensors to their highest sensitivity, Peggy zoomed in.

A dark-haired woman with brown skin swayed side to side with each step she took. Cradled in her arms, an equally dark-haired baby slept. It was just Amanda walking her baby, George, now four months old. Most mornings either Amanda or her husband Neil did a few laps with the young lad. A fitful sleeper, only the perpetual motion provided by his parents triggered him to nod off.

Relaxing her settings back to normal, Peggy observed the two for a moment. Amanda made soft sounds to her baby and Peggy shifted her focus away—the intimate moment between mother and child was private.

The agreement she’d made with Lucas when he gave her free run of the colony was to respect the colonists’ privacy. Peggy didn’t want to break that promise. Besides she needed to complete her checklist—their expected visitors would arrive into the system soon.

Peggy performed step thirty-two and checked the integrity of all the colony’s airtight seals. After confirming each one continued to hold in breathable air, she shifted herself to the long-range visual sensors mounted on their constellation of satellites. It didn’t take long to find the one with the view she wanted. Her orbital vantage point didn’t look back down at Thesan, the third planet in the solar system. Instead, she focused away from their home, towards the centre.

She took a moment to watch the storms swirling across the surface of the cold Neptune in the next orbit next to the suns before continuing her visual journey towards the centre of the system. The innermost planet with an atmosphere, Nak, was currently on the other side of their twin suns, so she couldn’t see its solid yellow clouds, no big loss in her mind.

At the centre, two suns danced around each other as they always did. It was an unequal partnership. Helios shone brightest, casting a white glow laced with ultraviolet radiation while Sol, the smaller of the pair, cast a dimmer orange glow reminiscent of a perpetual sunset.

Taking care not to focus on either of their two suns, she tuned the visual sensors on the spot where the event horizon would form. Her calculations, as always, were exact. She was a couple minutes early, meaning there was nothing to see yet.

Expanding her frequency sensitivity to include a wider swath of the electromagnetic spectrum, she scanned the seemingly empty space. At first, she detected nothing, then small amounts of Hawking radiation. The point of radiation expanded as the wormhole began to form. It would be a while yet before it grew big enough for the ship to pass through, but more than a century of waiting had taught Peggy patience.

Her memories included being a human once, but she had yet to conclude if they were actual memories or just stories created to buffer her consciousness. She distinctly remembered having a physical form, as soft and squishy as any human. Once she had to deal with petticoats and corsets—clothing no longer in vogue. The humans on the colony all wore stout boots and cargo pants.

She visualized the last house she’d lived in; how modern the kitchen had felt with its yellow counters and sleek appliances. A fragment of her took a seat at the kitchen table and sipped scotch as her glasses slipped down her nose. She’d been part of a top-secret project then, one formed to fight a doomed cold war. Her team created advanced computer algorithms that could learn. Had they been successful? That memory wasn’t in her databank.

A sub-routine replayed the image of Amanda cuddling her baby. Peggy’s databank contained nothing about a child of her own, but she remembered being married once and when that had ended, taking on lovers. Was it all just fiction? Programming put in place to keep her sane? If it was true, did she miss being human?

As her algorithm’s cranked through the questions, she noted the wormhole was nearly full size—it wouldn’t be long now.

Her biggest regret was being unable to smell the spices of Amanda’s mulligatawny soup with a real nose. Would its scent be the same as the version the cook made back when she’d just married Eugene? Just thinking about how that soup smelled took her back to that old London house full of taxidermy and gas lights. The quaint image felt comforting—maybe it was all just a ploy to keep her sane.

A signal from the other side of the wormhole caught her attention. It was a message from Earth. She recorded the message, while maintaining focus on the wormhole.

There! She detected a modulating signal from just on the other side of the wormhole—still in Earth’s solar system. She’d identified it as a standard tracking beacon. A moment later the signal originated from their system and she switched sensors to visual. It was the Ankh, the mining ship they’d been expecting. Zooming to the maximum resolution, Peggy examined the vessel.

The ship’s hull was dark grey, well maintained but also well used. She read off the registration number and cross checked with the vessel in the mining application—everything was correct. Registered to New Egypt Station, the Ankh had spent the last ten years mining Saturn’s moons. The ship’s extended mining track record had played a major role in Lucas accepting their proposal. As colony commander, he had the final say. A new ship without such an impressive track record could easily be a Conglomerate spy—and they knew, eventually, The Conglomerate would come for them.

Peggy studied the ship, confirming the details matched her records. The Ankh wasn’t designed to go through an atmosphere; instead it would send down smaller shuttles to set up a mining base on Thesan. Indium littered the planet’s surface—a mineral in high enough demand to be worth the effort of going to a different solar system to obtain. The mining crew could just scoop up the indium-laced gravel without digging a single hole. In their proposal, a first pass at smelting would be performed on the surface, then the refined ore would be sent up to the main ship.

Shifting her view, Peggy focused on the ship’s hangar bay—the big doors were closed, hiding the shuttles inside. I guess I have to wait to count them, Peggy thought as she calculated the ship’s interior area. Her result matched the records.

A large ship with a small crew and the extra space for the indium they’d be taking back to Earth. She couldn’t confirm from this range, but the ship’s crew complement was twenty-five. The captain was Fran Balfe, a miner with decades of experience and glowing references. Peggy scanned the rest of the crew manifest, each one of them had equally solid backgrounds. There was no way Conglomerate spies were among them... or was there? With the wormhole open, now was the time to do detailed background checks.

Cloning a version of herself to maintain a watch over the ship, she went looking for Lucas. She found him awake and sipping coffee in the dining hall. His black hair was messy, as usual, and he desperately needed to shave. It offended her that their leader let others see him looking so scruffy, but she didn’t dare say anything about it.

Sitting across from him was Ash Jones, the captain of the Staffelwalze, which had brought a group of refugees to the colony seven months ago.

Lucas, Peggy said through the nearest speaker.

Lucas set his mug down and looked towards the speaker. Since it had a video feed, Peggy displayed her face avatar. People responded better to her when she showed a face. Her chosen avatar was how she remembered herself at fifty; in her memories, people had respected her then. She projected herself as Caucasian and, as always, her image wore the horn-rimmed glasses she favoured. She kept her expression serious.

"Has the Ankh arrived in the system?" he asked as he rubbed a hand over his twice broken nose. It still wasn’t straight; she made a note to make a doctor’s appointment for him to get it fixed—maybe this time he’d go.

Affirmative, the mining ship came through the wormhole 32 seconds ago.

He picked up his mug and took a sip. Does it check out?

It is the ship we are expecting. Everything about it matches our expectations exactly, said Peggy.

I’m still not comfortable with this, said Ash. She stared straight at Lucas without even acknowledging Peggy’s presence.

Peggy opened her avatar’s mouth to cut in, then thought better of it—that kind of behaviour wouldn’t win Ash’s approval.

Ash continued. Everything about this mining operation is just a little too convenient.

Perhaps. Lucas glanced down at his hands then directly at Ash. We are obliged to repay the Colonizing Counsel for getting us here and… He gestured to his surroundings—in this case, a dining room containing just the two of them. And for all the equipment they sent with us. The sooner we do that, the better.

Ash pursed her lips. You’re harbouring known insurgents. Inviting outsiders in will only expose us.

Don’t forget that Nigel West, the head of The Conglomerate has sworn to come, said Peggy, but neither of the humans acknowledged her. She worked hard to keep a frown off her avatar’s face; it wouldn’t do to display her human emotions to them.

Ash tilted her head towards the screen displaying Peggy’s avatar. You need to curtail her access.

I’ve gone through our operational code, and Peggy has done a fantastic job of removing the Nigel AI virus, said Lucas.

Perhaps, but she’s the most complex AI I’ve ever encountered, so complex we can’t understand her motives. Ash pulled herself up straight. We’re putting too much trust in her.

Lucas ran a hand over his nose before responding. What does Vince think?

Peggy let a version of herself wander to look at Vince’s door. The young hacker was inside, most likely still asleep. She didn’t have access to the interior of anyone’s quarters, and if she did, she wouldn’t pry as that went against her Victorian upbringing. Victorian upbringing? The wandering version of herself, again, fell down the rabbit hole of wondering if she was once a real person or not. Abandoning that version, her focus snapped back to the dining room with Lucas and Ash.

Vince is a huge fan of Peggy, said Ash. But he’s young and not wary enough.

Perhaps you’ve become too jaded. Lucas took another sip. You weren’t like that when we first met.

Ash laughed, her white teeth contrasting with her black skin. In an instant, the tone of the room changed. I wasn’t much older than Vince back then. Now there’s more to worry about, like the safety of my son.

Max is the most resourceful young man I’ve ever met. Lucas wrapped his hands around his nearly empty mug.

He takes after his dad. Ash smiled as her gaze went distant, then her smile faded. It’s too bad James never got the chance to know his son.

As Lucas nodded, Peggy launched a search to find out what happened to Max’s dad. She found a news story about a flight school accident linked to his name. James had been on a training flight over Antarctica when something went wrong, though the exact cause wasn’t listed in the article. The shuttle crashed into near-freezing water, and everyone on board died of hypothermia. At the end of the article, a single sentence mentioned the pilot leaving behind a pregnant wife—that must have been Ash and Max.

Hey, Peggy, we’ll meet you in the Control Room in a minute. Can you give us some privacy here? asked Lucas, but Peggy recognized it as the order it was.

Chapter Two

A single chime from the other room woke Margo from a deep sleep. Outside, light levels were shifting to dawn signalling it was still early. She sat up and ran a hand along the smooth sheets—it was too dim to see the exact shade, but she knew they were slate blue. Moving slowly to not disturb Gary, she slid out of bed.

Pulling her housecoat off a hook, she wrapped the cloth around herself. Then she grabbed the clothes she’d dumped on her barrack box the night before and held them in a ball against her chest.

With a glance back at the bed, she confirmed she hadn’t woken her husband. He remained fast asleep, his face relaxed. In the dim morning light, his light brown hair appeared darker than it really was. Releasing a gentle sigh, he rolled over and put a hand on the spot she just vacated. She smiled and debated leaning down to give him a kiss. In the end, she decided he deserved a few more minutes of uninterrupted sleep.

Her bare feet quiet against the floor, she circled around the bed and slid open the door to the main room of their home. With one final glance back to Gary and the inviting bed, she passed through and slid it closed behind her.

In the main room, the walls on three sides gave them privacy and created a cozy living space. The fourth side opened to an outdoor patio—if one could call being inside the massive greenhouse ‘outside.’ The only other room to their house was a small bathroom with a makeshift shower that didn’t even have hot water plumbed yet.

The current setting of the greenhouse walls filtered out most of the endless daylight of Thesan leaving just enough light to see the lush grove of citrus she’d planted on the far side of the patio. Even though the plants only reached waist high, she knew at least one of them was blooming because the scent of citrus blossoms filled the air.

Probably the mandarin, she said to herself as she dumped her clothes on the slate blue sofa pushed against the wall opposite the bedroom. She stretched her arms up above her head and arched her back. Her vertebrae emitted a series of small pops and her body released some of the stiffness of sleep.

Swinging her arms back and forth, she went over to the short counter running the length of the back wall. A light on her rolled-up scroll flashed. With a yawn, she retrieved the computer from where she’d deposited it the night before and unrolled it. It was Lucas. With a sigh, she accepted the call.

Margo here.

The mining ship just came through the wormhole. His voice sounded tinny over the small computer’s speaker.

Margo yawned a second time and ran a hand through her shoulder length hair. Her fingers snagged in the tangled curls, forcing her to yank them out.

As the colony’s security chief, this kind of news was important but… she checked the time on her scroll: 05:24 am. Isn’t that exactly on schedule?

At the mining ship’s fastest, it would still take it a month to arrive in orbit around Thesan—surely the ship’s arrival wasn’t worth getting her up early. He was overthinking things again.

Yes, said Lucas.

Did Peggy scan it as planned?

Yes, she found nothing out of the ordinary.

So, no emergency. Margo pictured herself slipping back under the warm covers with Gary.

I’d like you to come to the Control Centre, we’ve got a couple of issues to discuss, he said.

Issues to discuss, before I’ve had any coffee? His overthinking had descended into panic. Or maybe Ash put him up to it. They had thoroughly checked out the mining ship when they’d accepted its proposal—and by thoroughly, she meant Vince had used the last comms window to hack into places he shouldn’t to confirm the mining ship was exactly what it said it was. Hell, they’d even dug up Captain Balfe’s elementary school grades.

I’ll be there in a few minutes. She closed the line. Scratching the back of her head with one hand, she pushed the scroll aside with the other.

Margo cocked her head and looked down the counter. A rather low-tech coffee pot was the only other item on the surface; Gary had brought it with him from Earth, and every night he prepared it to brew. All she had to do was push the button. Lucas could wait; she wanted—no needed—her morning coffee. Staring at the button, she debated if maybe Lucas couldn’t wait. Maybe she should go see him now.

No, she said aloud as she pushed the button.

Turning to the sofa, Margo dressed in her colony uniform of dark blue cargo pants and a black t-shirt. On top, she pulled on an old wool sweater, handmade by a friend, before depositing her housecoat onto the sofa’s arm.

You’re up early.

She turned around and grinned at Gary. He leaned against the door frame wearing only his striped pyjama pants and a sleepy smile. His short hair stood up in wacky directions uncharacteristic of the normal care he took in grooming himself.

She crossed the space between them and wrapped her arms around his waist. Warmth radiated from him. I’m sorry if I woke you.

He leaned into her embrace and gave her a kiss. But a beep from the coffee maker broke the moment.

I’m highly habituated to wake at the scent of brewing coffee. And it sounds like it’s ready.

Margo let him go, and he went to the counter. He pulled out two mugs from a shelf under the counter, poured the brew, and handed a mug to her.

I take it the mining ship arrived exactly as planned and now our colony commander wants a meeting? Gary walked out onto the patio and sat in a pink plastic chair.

Margo took a sip of the hot liquid and decided Lucas could wait a few more minutes. She took a seat in the green chair beside Gary.

I think Ash is pushing Lucas on this. She was never a fan of accepting any of the mining proposals. She looked through the greenhouse walls to where the Staffelwalze typically parked—it wasn’t there as it had been hidden away. Ash is used to being the one giving orders.

She is wanted on charges put forward by The Conglomerate, said Gary. In fact, all the former insurgents have something to fear.

We have a solid plan to keep them safe. Margo took another sip as she surveyed the greenery. A blue morpho butterfly flitted about, flashing them with its brilliant blue wings.

Are the caves ready to move into? he asked, looking up at the clear aluminum of the greenhouse roof.

Above, the transparency slowly increased to allow more sunlight in. The resulting effect mimicked an Earth-bound sunrise. Watching the light change, Margo let the mug linger at her lips. No, here was better because she got to enjoy her mornings with Gary; on Earth she’d mostly been alone.

Penny for your thoughts, said Gary, turning to look at her.

Oh, sorry, my mind drifted, she said. Yes, the caves are ready to inhabit. I suspect Abigail and Hannah have been looking forward to the day we get to use them.

Are the two of them still happily living in their love nest out at the Central Module?

It seems to work for them. Margo shrugged and finished the last sip of her coffee. I should go see what’s on Lucas’ mind.

Then the rest of the pot is mine. He smiled.

Nope, I’ll be topping up before I go. She stood and walked over to him.

I almost want to call you a coffee thief, he said, maintaining his smile.

Instead of a retort, she bent down and kissed him. I’ll hunt you down for lunch. Leaving him, she filled her mug before heading out.

---

Holding a full mug, Margo made her way around the little house she lived in with Gary and across the ground of the spoke greenhouse. The space was hers to grow what foodstuffs she could. It felt good to live away from the rest of the colony and have a little privacy.

More butterflies fluttered through the greenery around the edges of the large space. In the middle, a gravel path ran between rows of banana trees with rows of sweet potato vines on the right.

Her greenhouse extended off on the outside of the original ring of the colony ship. Clear aluminum covered the centre of the colony which formed the main part of their growing space along with the duck pond and the beginnings of a food forest. There was a second spoke greenhouse on the opposite side of the colony run by Devon, their head gardener. He planted fruit trees that would one day give them apples, pears, quince, peaches, apricots and plums.

All the clear surfaces of the greenhouses could filter the light, keeping the inside to Earth-like rhythms of light and dark while simultaneously acting as solar panels, collecting the energy needed to run the colony.

Without spilling even a drop of her coffee, Margo went through the door to the colony and into the space that had once been her lab. Now it was used as a storeroom for her gardening tools. Through another door and down a short hall, she came to the Loop, where she stopped to take a couple sips from her mug.

The wide corridor of the Loop circumnavigated the entire colony, allowing her to get anywhere. Her eyes lingered on the waist high green band that ran along both sides. It denoted the quadrant she was in—in this case green for gardening. Further on the colour would change. Purple for the domestic quarter, red for operations, which included their Control Room as well as the shuttle and rover hangars, then blue for engineering.

A recent paint job had returned the hallway walls back to the pristine white they’d been before departure. Above, the entire ceiling glowed, still at the low level of morning. She turned left and started walking.

Margo passed the entrance to sick bay, then came to the double doors to the Hub just as a large black woman with a massive afro barrelled out and nearly collided with her.

Hey dumbass, watch where you’re going. Margo grinned.

Abigail turned and glared. Sprinkled across the bridge of her nose and cheeks were freckles a shade darker than her skin. She maintained her signature glare for a few moments before letting out a loud laugh.

I’m training you up good, she said, matching Margo’s grin.

Hannah emerged from the Hub and took Abigail’s hand. Loosely tied around her neck was a brilliant magenta scarf that made her pale skin appear washed out—but since Abigail gave it to her, she’d worn it continuously. Hannah’s petite stature contrasted with her partner. The two of them made an odd couple. With the tragedies both women had endured, they deserved whatever happiness they could find.

I thought the two of you were still out at the Central Module, she said. For months, Abigail and Hannah had worked out there, starting their terraforming efforts and overseeing excavation of the caves.

Our fearless leader wanted us to be here when the mining ship came through. Abigail’s large hair punctuated her head motions. Beside her, Hannah nodded.

He just dragged me out of bed for yet another one of his meetings. Margo yawned, covering her mouth with her empty hand.

Well, let’s get this shitshow going. Abigail started walking towards the Control Room, and Margo and Hannah fell into step beside her.

How’s the winter rye working out? asked Margo.

The most cold-hardy strain is growing on the slopes around the Central Module, said Hannah. It seems to handle our frigid daily temperature swings just fine.

Margo nodded. Temperatures on Thesan were always well below zero.

"I’ve also started some accelerated Cladonia rangiferina, continued Hannah, and some Salix arctica."

What she means to say is Reindeer moss and Arctic willow, Abigail cut in. It’ll be looking like a tundra out there in no time. Soon, we’ll be able to wander outside, looking at the plants...

While freezing our asses off, finished Hannah.

Exactly! Abigail wrapped an arm around Hannah’s shoulders and pulled her in close. Exactly.

The three of them stopped at the closed door to the Control Room.

Let’s get this over with, said Margo before hitting the door release button. The double doors slid open and the three women stepped inside.

Chapter Three

From his normal seat on the middle platform of the three-tiered Control Room, Lucas studied an image of the mining ship Ankh provided by Peggy. Next to the recent pictures, the AI projected the earlier imagery they had of the ship—both matched. It was the ship they were expecting.

Then why do I feel like everything is wrong about this? He ran a hand over his bent nose before looking around the room.

Ash sat at one of the workstations in the row just in front of his chair. Her skin was the colour of charcoal—but that wasn’t what got her the nickname Ash. No, she earned her name from an incident when they both started working at The Conglomerate and she’d accidentally set a forest on fire.

On her screen, she was scrolling through close-up images of the ship. His old friend wore an expression of concentration. In this moment, her close-cropped black hair added to her seriousness. Lucas hoped he could keep Ash and her son safe—along with everyone else on Thesan.

At the workstation on the other side of Ash sat Vince. Likely still a teenager, the tall, lanky young man wore his hoodie pulled up over his head, like always. Beneath was a mop of shockingly