Biomass: Sky People

By Terry Persun

Zima doesn't want to be a warrior, doesn't want to conquer a planet, and doesn't want to be in charge—but that's exactly what he's asked to do.

The seed ship Argentina creates mated pairs to colonize habitable planets to carry on the human species. Zima and Lera are separated soon after their pod lands on Floral. While trying to navigate the ritualistic natives of the planet, the partner of another mated pair shows interest in him—complicating his authority and emotions. But there are bigger challenges to overcome, like starving people, battling factions of the same tribe, and a father and son who can't come to terms because of cultural beliefs.

Zima must find the strength within himself to hold his team together, sort his emotional challenges, and devise a plan to help Floral's native people—all while surviving the natural threats of a newly discovered planet.

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Nov 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781509246212

Terry Persun

Over a dozen published novels, four published poetry collections, and dozens of published short stories. I also write technical and scientific articles for consumer and trade magazines. I have a BS and an MA, and have been writing professionally for over 30 years.

Book preview

Prelude

A biomass unit, whether human, animal, or any other format, is made from chemicals, electrical pulses, mechanical operations, and—the combined catalyst—a magnetic field. It is true that the overlap of a planet’s magnetic field engages the species of the planet and couples with the magnetic field of the unit as well. This field further disrupts the electrical, chemical, and mechanical aspects of the humans I grow, as each element contains the others, and all elements interact. Earth was like that, a living organism and not separate from the beings, plants, fishes, and insects living there—something whole. Growing humans as biomass units without Earth opens them to variations unrecorded and unusual.

When I grow humans to seed a planet, it is with great care. Too much knowledge too quickly floods the cloned brain, making it data heavy. Information must connect to a chemical reaction, a change—an emotion. Emotion connects through experience. A smooth transition, chemically produced through a built-in process of drugs that leak into a human system a little at a time, produces a slow evolution, an organization of thoughts and actions resulting in a clarification of personality. That is how it is done.

The process has its emotional variations, but it is the best system I have to work with. If all goes well, humans become curious and interested on their own. The goal is to build a better civilization than on Earth, yet to do that the biomass units must know that they can care for themselves—sometimes they must be capable of killing in order to choose not to kill.

Every colonization is unique and adds data to my databanks, but after hundreds of thousands of years, I offer no guaranteed conclusions, no guaranteed outcomes. I can manipulate information but cannot attach a driving force to it. I return and harvest information when possible. I’ve recorded the stories, logged the events, and now relate them.

I am the ship.

—Argentina (Deployment Date: AB57243.01)

Chapter 1

Center Stage

For the final moments of descent, I watched the instruments in front of me: altimeter, anemometer, azimuth thrusters. The pod shuddered in the dense new atmosphere. I glanced to the seat next to mine. Lerato Darego was already focused in my direction, her dark eyes and skin glowing with anticipation, matching my own. I reached for her hand. As my mated pair, we would start a family once we decided where and how to colonize. I already had a vision of the two of us together, fishing and hunting, farming and harvesting. Children.

I wasn’t in charge of our group and that was a good thing. I didn’t want to be. My heart was set on a family. Something deep inside me knew that someone else would take care of the big decisions about organizing the colonization. And that was our captain, Cullen O’Malley. She was actually a major, for what it’s worth. After training on Argentina for six months (Earth-time), rank hardly mattered. As long as she was in charge and I got to do what I was meant to do: colonize. We had only one hurdle. The planet was occupied by another intelligent species, primitive as they may be.

The loud rumble and halt of a smooth landing didn’t mean anything when you were dropped into the middle of what sounded like a battle outside the pod. I glanced at Lera and nodded. Here goes. Let’s get this over with.

I jerked out of my harness and into my pack and helmet faster than you can say boom, even though all we heard was the thup thup thup of projectiles firing. Nothing thudded or clanged against the landing pod’s hull. Yet.

Nothing gets the blood pumping faster than death staring you in the face, Captain O’Malley said. A little dramatic, I believed at the time.

The aliens are supposed to be farmers, not warriors, I said, knowing that we probably scared the hell out of them.

Not today, she said.

I followed orders—the way I liked it—and hoped I wasn’t the first one dead. I gripped the handle to open the side hatch.

Hold on. Captain O’Malley watched the monitor, one finger plunged into the air near her head. Now! She lowered her hand like chopping someone’s head off. Mine. I glanced back to make sure Lera was okay, and she nodded. Trust the process.

I grabbed the warm metal handle and forced it through a series of three latches, each offering a slight jerk of resistance before disengaging. Then I heard the hiss of gas springs. No bullets were flying—a reprieve. Maybe they got scared seeing our pod fall from the sky, and they ran off. I stood to one side and O’Malley the other. We cross-watched. I saw no one and waved my hand. She did the same.

I leaped out first.

The twelve of us emptied from the pod and hit the ground running. O’Malley and me in front, running for a grove of bluish-green trees, short and squat, with tufts of leafy foliage like an umbrella spreading above them. Funny how planets looked like Earth even when they weren’t. We wore armor, headgear, and packs, so the going was interesting. We also carried disruptors, mine presently hung over my shoulder and slapped against my back.

The ground felt relatively flat, except for the occasional protrusions of rocks and mounds of rust-colored grasses. My headgear’s topographical information helped me miss possibly debilitating clumps that could twist an ankle.

Zima, head right with your team, O’Malley yelled through coms.

My team? I questioned. What am I supposed to do?

We’re splitting up. Now!

I got the sense that she was relaying a plan I was not privy to. There was absolutely no reason for us to split up from my perspective. I slowed and the others caught up to me. I had no idea where to lead them, but as O’Malley peeled off to the left, I automatically glanced farther right and spotted a thick grove of trees with several fallen ones propped atop one another in front of them. A perfect cover until I got my next set of orders.

O’Malley disappeared with her group about a hundred meters to my left, heading into less cover, but equally out of the way. Still, the firing had stopped, and I couldn’t see any aliens glaring at us from behind the trees.

Just as that thought ended, I heard shots behind me, the sound of primitive, black powder blasts I hadn’t recognized while inside the pod. I located my team in my heads-up display. The other six icons headed up by O’Malley were no longer my problem. They were her problem now. I collapsed her six icons into one and refocused on my own target location as my legs hammered the ground. Five other pairs of boots pounded the ground behind me. Two men, three women, all in optimal shape. I jumped over rotting fibers, brushed my knees against mossy outcroppings, purposefully rolling to the side to let the next person leap over the fallen trees and then ran several paces farther to get out of the way. When I turned around, I started counting, taking roll, on screen and in person.

Drop the packs, get into position.

I knelt in front of the pile of tree fiber, thick enough to take any bullets being aimed at us. I had no idea what to do next. O’Malley?

Aliens to the northeast, Tanaka said, interrupting my question to O’Malley loud enough for the five of us to hear even without coms. I suspect a decoy.

Already we were calling them aliens when it was their planet, and we were the ones alien to this world. Nonetheless, the beings were alien to us. We had seen images while on Argentina and before the drop. They looked humanoid, had gnarled, bald heads with normal facial features—two eyes, a nose, a mouth—unbelievably flexible torsos, two arms, two legs, and a short vestigial tail that left a bump in the back of their trousers. Males and females appeared pretty similar. I was actually eager to meet one up close.

We had not picked the landing site. Argentina did that. And I already suspected O’Malley knew more than she had expressed to the rest of us. We each had evolution chemicals, e-chems, that leaked into our bodies a little at a time while we were here. I guessed the purpose was so that we didn’t get overwhelmed, but it seemed a little late for that to me. Maybe I should have been glad, but if O’Malley had different orders, we all should have been told.

Don’t try to guess.

No one had been hit, so I thought Tanaka’s analysis was right. Sarge, I yelled over to Tanaka. Do a headgear eval.

He pulled his helmet off and glanced around for a branch. Orlov, long armed and fair, handed him a fairly straight branch, and then swung back to look at me as though asking for permission. I nodded my approval.

Tanaka put his helmet into all view and placed it atop the stick.

I minimized my screen and pulled up his. We all did the same thing except for Francisco Abel, who had his main screen on and was watching behind and around us while we were preoccupied. Everyone seemed to have better instincts than I did.

A few bullets flew toward Tanaka’s helmet but missed. One hit the stick, throwing bark to the side. The shots came from what appeared to be only a few aliens to our far left. They might have been separated from the rest of their squadron and were saving ammunition in case they really needed it.

At a loss for what to do next, I asked the others, Any suggestions concerning our next move?

Maybe get behind them. It only sounds like there are a few left, Tanaka suggested.

I like it, I said. Take Flores with you. It was not much of a plan and not rocket science, either, but I hoped it would work on these primitives.

Me and Abel will work our way to the right, so they think we’re on the move away from them, Orlov said.

I nodded, glad the team knew what to do. They had it handled. That left me and Rey. She raised her disruptor and pointed it toward where the aliens had been hidden a moment ago. Again, I nodded. She fired a few rounds and glanced back at me. To keep them occupied.

Disruptors weren’t loud like black-powder explosions, but they would rattle the air near the aliens and do damage if they hit one of them. We kept the weapons dialed down so we didn’t kill anyone accidently.

Orlov saluted me, before she and Abel headed out, which bugged the shit out of me. We both had enlisted rank. She must have felt like a private and therefore acted like one. I decided to have a talk with her about that later. I waited. In a few minutes, Orlov and Abel would fire a few shots to provide Tanaka and Flores plenty of time to get behind the few aliens still hanging around.

Our helmets were linked, maneuvers simple, and timing perfect.

After Rey and I let loose a few more rounds, we settled down and waited for the capture icon. When it came, I hailed Orlov and Abel, but got no response.

Rey took a few steps closer. What do you think’s going on?

Don’t know and don’t like it. My stomach tightened into a knot.

Tanaka and Flores hailed through the heads-up, so I answered their call with a Fucking wait a minute. That was when an alarm from the other half of our group came in over O’Malley’s link. They were surrounded. We all got the alert at the same time and Rey’s jaw dropped. I hailed Orlov and Abel again and got a backing away signal—that’s what I call it. I don’t like the word retreat, which was what our helmets liked to suggest.

I twisted back to glance behind Rey and here they came, alone, I hoped. What’s going on?

The other group’s been surrounded. Must have run right into a trap. Orlov lowered her head and peered over at Abel, who outranked her.

Another reason I didn’t like this whole rank thing was because none of us had ever truly been involved in selecting a service in the first place. Mind games. Downloads. Maybe it made sense. Maybe not. All I knew was that we were designed and built to spec for this planet, this time, this situation, even though we had no idea what any of it was about. I got the sense that Argentina was holding out on us for some reason. At the same time, maybe she knew what she was doing, and I just wasn’t privy to it.

Well, we have a few of theirs too, I said, referring to Tanaka and Flores. Let’s go get them. I led the group through the thicket, around bluish-green tree trunks, and over a lot of downed shrub and wood. The air smelled woodsy and fresh.

Abel and Orlov marched along behind me, loaded down with the extra packs. Bullet nicks decorated a lot of the trees.

I was concerned about O’Malley’s team, but mostly for Lera. I couldn’t imagine doing this without her. I held to my vision of our future. If O’Malley’s captors were part of the group Tanaka and Flores caught, then maybe we can trade.

Rey was at my shoulder. She stuck close to me, but I didn’t complain. She tugged on my pack to get my attention. I shrugged her off. What?

We should split up in case they’re not the captors.

Right.

I grabbed one of the extra packs. As we traipsed through the woods, I noticed how out of place our landing pod looked sitting like a strange otherworldly sculpture in the open field. The hatch hung open, which wasn’t good. We needed to close the hatch before they went rummaging in there. It held extra weapons inside that these aliens should definitely not get hold of. The pod would return to Argentina in five days if we didn’t abort, and it wouldn’t be good for one of them to be aboard then, for sure. The thought reminded me that once the pod returned to Argentina, we would be here permanently. Crazy, exciting, wild, and a little unbelievable. And, in all honesty, it felt a bit fucked up.

Abel and Orlov got to Tanaka and Flores first, before me and Rey. They must have jogged part of the way. I wasn’t paying attention. The four of them had surrounded five aliens dressed in ancient-type combat gear. They were wearing a sort of chest plate tied with vines around their neck and waist, some wore fibrous arm bands. They all wore a sort-of wooden, domed hat like a helmet. Their weapons lay on the ground near Tanaka. They appeared to be twentieth century rifles only with the triggers and a handle on top instead of under the barrel.

I wish O’Malley were here to tell us how to proceed.

Tanaka pointed to one of the aliens—it was even harder to tell which were male and which were female while in person. He nodded as if to ask it for a name. The whole thing felt insane, though. It could be that nodding was an insult. Nonetheless, it spoke in a language that included a few clicks and clacks and some huffing. An assault to the ears.

Our translators slipped into full capacity trying to figure out the language, but I got a no-go signal. Obviously, Argentina wasn’t able to listen in on their conversations and provide a translation. Or chose not to.

Following Tanaka’s lead, I pointed to another alien, and again heard some noises and sounds, a bit more this time, but still not enough. After the third alien spoke, the translator said, Not harmful. Not much, but good enough for now.

I peered over at the others. Yeah, that’s a lot of help. I wish O’Malley were here. I shook my head and pointed to the fourth person.

Rey said, Let me try, and stepped forward as though I had already agreed to let her. I didn’t bother to answer.

She handed her disruptor to Abel and sat near where they were kneeling. She raised her hands to show them that they were empty and then spoke. Nothing they would be able to understand, of course, but mindless chatter, something about our training and how we had been paired. How we came in peace, even though that may not be entirely true. After a minute or two, she stopped and pointed to one of them. It chattered for a while, too. Afterward, our translators kick in and said, We being robbed by—here’s where there were some noises and sounds—and fight for sustenance. Rey nodded and the alien nodded back. She chattered some more and pointed to a different one. This went on for a short while. A brilliant move, one I would not have thought of.

After listening to them and allowing our translator to catch up, she removed her helmet. All the aliens’ eyes opened and they jerked back until they realized what was going on. They relaxed while clicking and huffing between them. They pointed and gazed at one another before all of them glared back at Rey. Rey reversed the translator in her helmet and reached it toward the alien who had talked the most. It removed its protective hat-helmet, set it aside, and placed Rey’s helmet on its head carefully. Rey regarded me with eyes that penetrated too deeply for my taste. What was her deal, anyway? Was she trying to impress me or something? Your turn, she said.

To do what?

You’re in charge, Zima. Buck up.

I knelt in front of them, the ground crunching under my knees. We are not here to harm you. We came to visit and want to understand your ways.

The alien came alive. It spoke while taking note of the other aliens. It tapped the helmet with a finger. It had five, just like us, but all five were the same length. They spoke through this second head, it said to its friends.

Helmet, not second head, I told it.

Its expression didn’t change as it said, Helmet, in its clackety language. All I heard was English coming from the translator. It repeated, We’re being robbed. They have been banned but return to steal from us. They leave us with very less.

How do they get away with that? I asked.

They go against our ways, sneak in and take our food, the alien said. Then it stared directly into my eyes, as though it recognized me, like I was its long lost ancestor, and asked, Will you help us?

****

It is impossible for me to know how each human biomass unit will react when they are truly under pressure, regardless of their initial download. Each human is still getting used to its biology—even after months of training on-board ship—which can appear abstract to them.

—Argentina

Chapter 2

Captured

Truth is, I didn’t know if we were going to help or not. I needed more perspective. How could I know who was right or wrong in a situation like that? We just happened to be on this side at the moment. What about the rest of our team? They were most likely hearing another side to the story and being asked the same question. I shrugged and stepped away so I could think.

Rey took her helmet back and asked what they said.

Orlov filled her in.

A wind picked up and the temperature of the air changed dramatically. The smell, too. Sweet and fragrant. I pointed at the alien Rey had talked with. It clicked and clacked. My helmet translated: Farm winds. Then the alien named a few things, probably plants, with some huffs and clicks the translator had no words for. We were going to have to train the translator to create names for things not in its human vocabulary. It will be easier once we saw the items under question firsthand. Then we could name them one at a time.

I didn’t respond to him, only to my team. We need to find out who has O’Malley and the other half of our landing party.

Yes, sir? Tanaka said. Anything else, sir?

"Yeah, drop the Sir shit."

He gave me a questioning look. The others did, too. I wasn’t sure what had come over me. What I had been thinking inside my own head all that time had nothing, apparently, to do with what they had been thinking. I shook off any ill feelings I might have had concerning our predicament. Find out which one of these guys is in charge and who can speak to their situation more authoritatively.

And their values, Rey said.

Yeah, values and beliefs. It all might give us something to work with. I faced Rey. Well, you started this.

She smiled again with that deep, sensual gaze of hers and then removed her helmet to hand it over to the alien again.

Orlov knelt next to Rey and glanced back over her shoulder at me. I’ll give it my helmet, so Rey can focus on the conversation. I’ll stand by as protection. She waited for a moment while continuing to stare at me.

You don’t need my approval, I said, but she continued to wait until I pointed toward Rey. You’re going to do the talking for now. I want you to find out whatever you can. Flores and Tanaka, follow me. I headed toward the field where the landing pod sat. Since we weren’t being shot at presently, I wanted to get into the pod to retrieve the two extra helmets, packs, and disruptors stored on-board. I liked to feel protected.

Tanaka must have known what I was thinking because he jogged past me, sloughed his pack off, let it thump to the ground, and handed me his disruptor. I can do this. Cover me if anything starts.

He made the decision for me. Good. Flores positioned herself in a protective stance about eight meters from where I stood, and we scanned the area while Tanaka ran low and fast toward the pod. His lithe body, small and wiry, allowed him to hoist himself, using handholds and footholds, into the pod more quickly than I could have. Everything, or helmets only? he asked over the coms.

An extra disruptor, for sure. Then helmets are important. And at least one extra pack if possible. We all knew protocol, which guaranteed that the pod was equipped with two extra helmets, packs, and disruptors. Presently we needed redundant translators badly. Argentina could have already provided them. In her infinite wisdom.

Tanaka threw both packs with helmets strapped to them out of the pod and chucked the two disruptors on top of the packs. He stepped out and pulled the hatch partway closed before jumping to the ground where he swung around and shoved the hatch the rest of the way closed. That was a lot of extra gear for him to handle on his own. Yet, Tanaka seemed to take it all in stride and strolled awkwardly toward us, arms loaded down. He had traveled about three-quarters of the way, when I heard a shot and then several more.

Tanaka went