Colony: the first one: Complete edition

By J.M. Varlet

The Earth sends a colonization mission to Lone, a planet where living conditions would be identical. Eight hundred volunteers, civilians and soldiers, embark on a mission of no return after a thirty-eight year journey in stasis. They have planned everything: state-of-the-art equipment, a large sample of the fauna and flora of their mother planet, and even the latest generation of artificial intelligence.
It is a new civilization in a virgin world that begins.
But this planet is already occupied, and when data is missing, nothing goes according to plan.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Les Éditions du Net
• Release date: Mar 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9782312131979

Book preview

Introduction

– Sharona! What are you doing? « he grumbled in his big voice

– …

– Sharona! » he called louder.

Only the creaking of the wood echoed in the silent house as the wind gusted.

Charles straightened up with a sigh.

The aches and pains came back to his mind at once. He felt as if he had been trampled by a whole herd. Cutting down trees for the coming winter was hard work. They had to stock up as much as they could, having little insight into the rigors of this dreaded period which lasted twice as long as on Earth. The girls had school almost every day, and Elisa, in her seventh month of pregnancy, was already quite busy with the burden of running the camp.

The air in the room was frigid.

In the night, he guessed, more than he saw, the condensation coming out of his mouth to the rhythm of his breathing.

The damn kid had let the fire go out. It wasn’t very complicated though: a nice piece in the fireplace at night when you go to bed and open an eye from time to time to make sure it didn’t need to be fed.

She was sitting with her sister in front of the fireplace, what could be simpler?

At his side, Elisa, their mother was sleeping a deep sleep despite his calls. As soon as he had sat down, she was already occupying the warm space freed by sticking to him.

He rubbed his face with his calloused hands and slid to the edge of the bed, bringing the fur blanket with him. Behind him, Elisa grunted as she pulled the precious, thick, warm coat to herself, under which she disappeared.

Completely naked, Charles had no choice but to throw himself into his icy clothes and hope they would warm up quickly. He was a colossus of almost two meters, with a body deformed with muscles, whose weight was well over 150 kilos. Brown, with a short beard, tribal tattoos covered his two arms from shoulders to wrists, memories of a very distant Terran youth… in many ways.

In the dark, he painfully elbowed the log wall, railing against the girl, the object of all his nightly grievances

He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, the floor creaking under his weight despite his best efforts at discretion. The glow of the moons through the disjointed shutters barely made out the landing of the stairs that led downstairs.

As he expected, there was no light source from the large fireplace at the back of the living room.

– Sharona!

Still no answer.

Stubbornly, he went downstairs holding onto the banister, blindly. In front of the fireplace, on top of a thick fur, two cocoon-like beds were side by side. The closest one was the girl’s.

– Seriously Sharona, we don’t ask much of you though…

He bent down and tried to shake her by the shoulder. His hand sank into the cold, empty blankets.

Surprised, he groped everything at his feet, in vain.

– Kyra? Kyra?

He stretched his fingers toward the other extended form, dreading the same thing.

This time, the sleepy voice of a little girl answered him as her thick hands rested on a warm mass

– Daddy? What’s up?

– Kyra, where is your sister?

– Well, she’s asleep.

He sighed.

– If I ask you, it is because she is not here! Where is your sister Kyra?

She sat down, still surrounded by her blankets. In the half-light, the shape of her head, dominated by a messy head of hair, emerged.

– I don’t know! She said she had to pee, but I don’t know. I was sleeping. She’s not here?

– No.

– It’s cold, Dad.

– Yes, I’ll take care of it.

Worried, he still took the time to stir the ashes.

Some embers remained.

He put a split log and blew gently until the first small flame appeared.

– Kyra, take care of this, will you?

She sighed as she dragged herself to the edge of the hearth.

– … and stop bitching. It’s not complicated! I’ll go see what your sister is doing.

– It’s always me…

He took a deep breath, fighting an irrepressible urge to pick up on this mood that strangely reminded him of their mother.

– Do what I tell you!

He crossed the room and involuntarily pushed back a bench that was in his way, far from the place that should have been his.

The series of swear words that followed was whispered, always in the interest of discretion. He staggered to the door where he stumbled this time on the pile of shoes abandoned there.

After finding his own, he opened the unlocked entrance.

Outside, the sun was just coming out.

The small two-story wooden house faced a barn that was as high as the house, but four to five times larger. Between the two was the barn, attached to the house.

The temperature was cool, but not yet cool enough for the dew to turn into frost.

He shivered in spite of his thick shirt and walked across the yard toward the out-of-the-way cabin.

At this hour, everything was quiet, even the animals needed to sleep.

He walked to the dry toilet and rapped his fingers against the wooden panel.

– Sharona?

Under the repeated shocks, the door swayed gently and swung inward.

No one.

Suddenly worried, Charles turned back to the constructions.

There was nothing in particular. The access to the barn remained locked from the outside by a prop placed across it, no chance for the girl to be there.

The wide opening of the barn showed the front of the ranger, the huge all-terrain vehicle used to transport camp personnel. He was walking toward it when a noise caught his attention.

The camp was lurking against the edge of the forest. The vegetation, whose bushy tops rose towards the dark skies, grew denser and denser until it became a kind of dark and mysterious impassable jungle.

A high fence of about six meters went around it, made of tree trunks side by side attached to each other. In the center, in front of the buildings, there was a courtyard as wide as half a soccer field. A derrick, dominated by a wind turbine, occupied the middle with, at its feet, an open and shallow reservoir. It ensured the supply of drinking water.

From his position, he could make out the props of the huge gate of the enclosure that were still in place.

The sound came from outside.

A faint grunt could barely be heard over the wind rustling the long stems of wild grass that covered the plain around them.

This enclosure was not built for aesthetics. There was a lot of unknown wildlife living here long before they arrived, and they weren’t exactly at the top of the food pyramid. It was unclear from the studies that had been conducted up to that point whether these defenses were sufficient to ensure their safety.

Charles, worried, headed for the ladder leading to the lookout platform next to the entrance.

The bars of the ladder groaned under his weight, but their thickness was far too great. To her great relief, the teenager was there, silent. Sharona was totally obsessed by what was happening in front of her.

While the sun was still only an orange line behind the hills on the horizon, the small and large moon were still above them, bathing the plain in their faint yellowish halos.

Just a few meters from the door, an animal as big as an elephant, covered with a thick, shaggy coat, all in length, was peacefully ruminating, staring at them, its nose in the air. He was lying down in the middle of the grass as high as the girls. His huge head, directly connected to the neckless body, was dominated by a tuft of hair that fell on his muzzle. From time to time, to clear his field of vision, he shifted his lower jaw to blow back the strands that stood up under the powerful exhale.

Invariably, they would return to their original position as the wind blew through the grass and their coats.

– Sharona! What are you doing here? You’ll catch your death of cold! Get inside and keep warm now!

– One had spoken to me about it, but I had never seen of it… it was satisfied to answer distractedly.

He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her, his chin just above her hair to warm her with his body.

– I think these are the first animals we discovered when we arrived here, « he murmured.

– Are they dangerous? » she asked as the creature shook its twisted, half-moon-shaped horns.

– No, not to my knowledge.

There was silence as the beast sniffed around and finally took another bite of grass.

– Were there any on Earth?

– No, they are only found here. There were many other animals on the earth, but all different… and then many disappeared. Come on, it’s cold.

Reluctantly, she climbed down behind him and they walked toward the house where a plume of smoke was beginning to rise from the chimney.

– … and they were all as dangerous as those here?

He gave a tense smile, shaking his head from right to left, his eyes fixed, lost in his memories. Distractedly, out of habit, he put his hand on the little girl’s head without leaning, just to make sure he was close.

– Oh no. On Earth, the most formidable is man.

The teenager burst out laughing… not him.

15 years (or 7.5 cycles) earlier:

The First, part 1

Chapter 1

The huge ship moved silently forward, slipping between planets as it slowed its course in a long curve toward its destination. Its long maiden voyage was also to be its last.

The New Hope was to land permanently on the surface of the destination planet and was already too close to escape its pull.

Once on the ground, everything was to be used as infrastructure or consumable, nothing was to be lost.

Left the terrestrial orbit thirty-eight years earlier, the deceleration which lasted since long years found its term this day, whereas it fell under the yoke of the attraction of the aimed planet.

This one had a registration, recorded by the astronomers, but the colonists had given it a name which betrayed well, in their eyes, the isolation which would be theirs compared to the rest of the human race: Lone.

Noah, the onboard computer, ensured perfect synchronization between the external environment and the available resources.

It had been programmed for an optimum result in relation to the trajectory. Any modification was impossible. The volunteers of the mission knew that it would be without return.

Noah was also in charge of the database of all human knowledge as well as the implementation of biological means once on site. He had been programmed to administer, without local interference, the implementation of a whole base of biological resources aimed at facilitating the integration of man in this new world. There was no question of endangering the natural balance, nor of reproducing the mistakes of the Earth. Its programming had always been surrounded by mystery so much the stakes were without limit. He said to himself that it was the fruit of a kind of genius with the completely unknown indeterminate age.

There was no living presence in the corridors. The consoles of the wide gangway projected their pallid halos in the direction of empty seats. The immense holds, full to bursting with containers of all sizes, between which there was sometimes only a narrow passage that barely allowed one to slip through, were plunged into darkness.

Lighted buttons and a few screens showed intense activity in the deserted engine control room.

A gym, offering a panoramic view of the void, remained deserted, bathed in the glow of nearby stars.

The vast dining room, a succession of long metal tables lined up next to each other, had, for only lighting, the green night lights of the emergency exits.

Without warning, from the wall of a long, empty compartment, rectangular glass boxes emerged simultaneously, with powerful blasts of air, letting out clouds of nitrogenous vapors running across the floor toward the lockers opposite like an avalanche of snow.

The first series was for every other sarcophagus. The LED strips lit up as the lids lifted in perfect harmony.

Noah adjusted the intensity of the lighting to avoid the inconvenience of too much light for the sleepers when they woke up. It was designed to adapt to its users and anticipate their needs. This initiative was not directly programmed in its database. It adjusted itself according to its knowledge and what its designers called its free will.

The first of the sarcophagi in the series, isolated in a cabin with luxurious wooden furniture, was that of Admiral Brian. A few seconds after the hood was opened, he pulled himself up on his elbows with a grunt and sat there for several minutes, a little dazed.

Over fifty years old, he was the oldest member of the crew, whose average age was under thirty. Christopher Brian had not distinguished himself since his graduation from the Naval Academy a long time ago. A number of his peers back on Earth might have questioned his credentials as valedictorian, arguing that his test scores might have been helped by the fact that generations of Bretons had gone through the academy, from student to principal, had they not cared about their careers.

Massive, small in stature, thick hands with thin skin, he nevertheless looked more like a manual than a cerebral.

To compensate for the presence that his figure did not allow him, his white hair was carefully combed, his beard finely cut under a long and neat moustache. His uniform, always impeccable, bore numerous decorations, the meaning of which only he, as « grand commander of the colonial navy », could know. Years of messing and physical inactivity had taken their toll on his waistline. He could not see his feet without bowing forward.

With a sigh, he pivoted and let his feet slide to the floor. The metal floor was cold and smooth, but he had laid a luxurious carpet with his family’s coat of arms to compensate. Anchors, chains and golden flames intertwined on a thick red and blue background.

As for the next few hours, he had planned something to say that would be recorded for posterity « on this glorious day of the first colonization mission to a habitable planet », but nothing came back to him. It seemed to him that he had fallen asleep only a few minutes earlier. The medical team had warned him that the older he got, the longer the residual effects of the stasis products.

This vulnerability made him angry.

His bitterness was only temporary because he remembered that he had prepared a little speech that he wanted to be eternal when they would make history by landing on the virgin soil. The text was on his pad and he could consult the files from the unit on his wrist. He checked it casually, raising his eyebrows. Generations of Lonians could later work on it in elementary school, there would probably be streets named after it, public buildings…

A male voice rang out from the room’s speakers, cutting him off from his « monumental » thoughts.

– Good morning Admiral Brian, did you sleep well?

– « Noah, he scratched his throat with a grimace of contempt. In his opinion, talking to this thing as if it were human was an abomination. Are we there yet?

– Exactly sir, we have just crossed the last thousands of kilometers, the aircraft is under the attraction of the targeted planet.

– Is everything there… as planned »?

– The first spectrometric analyses confirm the predictions, sir.

– Send in the damn observation drones.

– Yes, sir.

– Anything else to report?

– One comet bypassed, two collisions avoided and ten deaths Mr.

The admiral straightened up and raised his face to the nearest speaker, more annoyed than saddened.

– Ten deaths?

– Yes, sir. Six years after we left. A faulty cooling unit. The service technician who woke up was unable to repair the module that depended on it. Fluids seeped into the breathing device.

We still initiated the emergency revival procedure, but without viable success.

– He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Explain yourself!

– The individuals appeared to be in excruciating pain. By my calculations, the survival rate with lungs flooded with these highly corrosive products was only five percent. Activating a medical unit could have deprived us of their support if the condition of the wounded was contrary to a new stasis. We would then have had to assist them during the thirty-two years of travel that remained. This was not in the best interest of the mission.

– What? What… and how? he was shaken with a shiver.

– I got the technician out and proceeded to decompress the room, expelling all breathing air. The deaths were quick, sir.

The admiral was feeling the pinch.

Noah, the central computer, was capable of killing for the « right cause »… He had literally put them through the airlock! If this information leaked, the rest of the mission could take an uncertain turn. To have a mutiny on our hands before we even landed was inconceivable. The implementation of the colony was based on the autonomy of the AI, especially for the whole biological section. From what he had understood, he was not really interested in it, it should manage, assisted by a veterinarian, the setting up and adaptation of some earth species considered important for the future of men on Lone. If they started to doubt the validity of her objectives and the means used, it is a whole part of the program that would be compromised. Not to mention that the entire computer system was based on this computer, the database, the plans… Christopher knew that he was not enough of a leader to manage a crisis situation that would call into question a chain of command, normally recognized and respected, of which he was the highest authority.

Only he knew that the New Hope was only a first phase.

The board had plans.

Taking into account the time needed to travel, they were probably already on their way. The Terran high command was counting on him to lay the foundations of this new colony, the material aspect, « they » would take care of the rest.

He had to do something… in his own way.

It was essentially a matter of not doing. Manipulate, dodge the issue, make sure no one knows about it.

Christopher Brian stood up with the help of his hands, firmly planted on his feet, enjoying the thickness of the carpet between his toes. He looked at the camera from the room he was in.

– Priority directive, classification 1: this information must not be disclosed. Official version: cause of death due to a mechanical problem, I leave it to you to detail, he added while sweeping the air in front of him with his hand as if to remove a fly from his face.

– Well, sir.

– Who is the technician who was awake?

– Senior Chief Petty Officer Eric Pryam Sir, second crew wake-up sequence.

– Cancel, for now, you leave it in stasis. Do you understand?

– Yes, sir.

– As for the rest, you maintain the wake-up plan: all the operational crew of the ship, we have no choice. We’ll explain its continued sleep by another harmless technical problem… a malfunction of the opening mechanism of the hood, what do I know…

– The second wake-up sequence is activated, two minutes before coming out of stasis. The first crew members are all up. There is one piece of information I feel I should give you, sir.

He sighed as he zipped up his blue jumpsuit that was in the closet, absentmindedly making sure his collar badges, his precious multi-colored bar decorations, were present and in their positions.

The outfit was perfect, ironed with extreme care, as usual.

First he kills, and now he thinks, it promises.

– No need to maintain the suspense…

– The wife of your second in command is one of the ten…

– Fuck!

He turned his head sharply and glanced toward the door, expecting to see him come in at any moment. He had felt all along that the captain was not fit for the job. According to the admiral, he argued about procedures, refused to fully assume his role as officer of the deck and was too close to his men. He would have liked another first mate, but he had used too much of his « knowledge capital » to push for the last assignments. He had « exhausted » himself in negotiations and skillful maneuvers to take command of the first Earth colony.

A specialist in the game of influence, he had not said his last word and was planning to bring Dryden on as second in command at the earliest opportunity. Everything was ready to go and the young lieutenant was not short of arguments. Deposing Kearney should not be too complicated: he had a natural tendency to take responsibility where he should have delegated. It would be a combination of the useful and the pleasant.

At that very moment, nothing was more unbearable than the prospect of having to suffer procrastination.

– Sir, Captain Kearney is still unaware of what happened, he is dressing in the sleep room, cabin 6148.

– Block access to the room involved. Anyone to wake up there?

– No sir, these are exploration personnel. They are part of the following sequences which are only concerned after the landing.

– For security reasons, you block access to all other sleeping rooms. No information should leak out.

– What about Petty Officer Pryam? What about him? He is one of the possible sources of leakage. Let me remind you that he is a member of the technical team and that his sarcophagus is in cabin 6148.

The admiral was thinking fast.

A decision had to be made. He only knew the officers and didn’t care about the rest of the troops. Therefore, he could not put a face to the name… and after all, why bother?

He had to keep quiet that the mainframe could give death as quietly as if he closed a shutter.

He slammed the door to his closet and put his fist on it.

– If the information were to be discovered, the entire mission would be jeopardized. And the safety and survival of all the colonists. We must absolutely put the interest of all of us first, as you so well expressed it earlier.

– Yes, sir.

– Do you understand what I’m saying?

– You just verbalized in an indirect way that, in order to achieve the objective of the mission, I must, among other things, ensure the silence of Senior Chief Pryam.

– I’m dreaming…

The disembodied voice was beginning to give him the creeps. What was so surprising about it? An artificial intelligence could not feel anything, it could only be psychopathic.

He did not have time to come back on his words to qualify them, assuming that he really had the wish to do so. Already, Noah was speaking again, without passion.

– It’s settled, sir.

Screams were heard in a nearby room at the other end of the hallway. Someone was using a tool to hit something.

– What did we… What did you… do…?

– Liquid nitrogen has just filled Mr. Pryam’s still closed sarcophagus. It was quick. He did not suffer.

– What do you know about suffering? « he swore, making sure one last time of his appearance in the small mirror.

He did not wait for Noah to recite a definition. The computer thought it was an open-ended question that did not require an answer, which it did.

The admiral rushed down the corridor to open the first armored door on his right. It slid gently into the bulkhead with a gasp of air. The three doors on this side gave access to the same cabin, as long as the corridor. At the end of the corridor used by the admiral was the bridge, the doors on the left led to the rest of the ship.

His first mate’s voice rang out over the commotion.

– Stop it! It’s too late. You’re all going to get burned by the nitrogen, not to mention the risk of anoxia. We have to find the circulation valve, make sure it’s only for this sarcophagus. There are others with more people in them!

The blows started again.

– Zach!… Zach!… William, put the damn ax down!

He bursts into the room.

All in length, about four meters deep, it was in fact a corridor, wider, parallel to the one used to circulate. About forty sarcophagi had emerged from the wall, like the teeth of a comb. Only half of them had opened, one out of two. The others, concerned by the second sequence, would soon do the same. About twenty people, some partially in overalls, others in underwear, were milling around a closed sarcophagus. With an axe in his hand, a man stood on the hood, dressed only in briefs. Dark-haired, with short brush hair, a medium-sized, athletic figure, like most of the crew members standing there, despair was evident on his features distorted with sadness.

– What the hell is going on here? asked the admiral in his usual haughty tone.

Breaking away from the group, Alex Kearney, the New Hope’s second in command, made sure with his eyes that William Zach, the chief mechanic, was coming down from his perch with the help of the others. He had already put on the legs of his suit, but there wasn’t enough time to go any further. Shirtless, the sleeves were tied around the waist.

– It’s Eric Pryam, sir. It’s horrible: he’s totally bathed in liquid nitrogen!

Gritting his teeth, the admiral put on the most closed face possible. Kearney was not teaching him anything. He looked around at the audience, without lingering on the closed sarcophagus.

– I demand that people intervene in safety! Everyone in regulation uniforms and wearing PPE (Personal Protective Equipment)! Mr. Kearney, do what is necessary! Those who are not needed here must ensure that our schedule is on time. We don’t have a minute to lose, especially for a lost cause. I hope you know that time is on our side. The New Hope is already falling on Lone by now!

Accusing the blow in front of this inhumanity, but running out of valid arguments, Captain Kearney straightened up while staring at him with a contained rage. His head was closely shaved and he was dry and muscular.

– At your orders, Sir.

He turned to the sailors standing at the bedside, gritting his teeth.

– Twarby! Find me the damn valve and isolate the sarcophagus from the others. You’re shutting down everything. We need to find the source of this leak and make sure it doesn’t affect the rest. The rest of you: get to your posts. The raid has already begun. Lieutenant Zach, if you are not ready by now, this trip will end with a big hole on Lone’s surface.

Looking glum, the crew dispersed, William Zach the last. After having thrown his axe on the ground which finished its race by sliding against the wall. I put his hand on the shoulder of a small brunette with hair in brush. In an orange jumpsuit, she was reaching for the lockers where the repair kits were located.

– Are you going to be okay?

Vanessa Twarby looked up at him and nodded, biting her lower lip to keep from crying. Eric Pryam was one of their team, and no one could have believed, when they had separated to enter their chambers, that one of them could die like that. For them, the thirty-eight years of stasis had passed as if it had been a matter of minutes.

Turning away, she grabbed a textile bag full of heavy tools and went to dismantle the technical panels at the back of the room. William joined the others who were finishing dressing.

Captain Kearney returned to the admiral, still standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his belly, chilling.

– Anything else, sir?

There were a few seconds of silence, heavy with the reproaches of one and the tortured conscience of the other.

– I’ll be waiting for you on the bridge, Dr. Kearney. We need to initiate the landing sequence.

Christopher Brian turned and walked stiffly toward the bow of the New Hope.

Alex followed him with a dark look, puckering up his lips.

When the admiral was out of sight, he returned to his locker.

Brian would wait, he intended to go and see Cathy asleep first. He felt the need to be reassured and knew that the mere fact of contemplating her serene face would be enough to remotivate him for the continuation.

They were about to begin the most risky part of their journey. Behind him, the other half of the sarcophagus opened, except for Eric Pryam’s.

A few minutes later, the door to the bridge barely had time to close before he rushed into the room, ignoring military discipline.

– What the hell is this? Brian! Why are the airlocks to the sleeping compartments closed?

The admiral stood up straight and rubbed his hands uneasily, his face scarlet.

– You forget yourself, Captain Kearney!

– Put me in irons! What’s going on here?

Admiral Brian vowed inwardly to put it there as soon as they finally landed. He had him! It wasn’t the time, but he had enough witnesses on the bridge to degrade this fool.

– This is a strict application of the Kearney guidelines. If you had spent more time immersing yourself in the working papers and mission protocol instead of hanging out with the crew…

– … you don’t command men from a photocopier, « Admiral ».

– … Hem… Gentlemen?

The two men remained frozen, eyes in eyes, refusing to lower the glance. Rubbing nervously his face with his hand, Alex finally broke the eye contact to stare at the one who tried to interrupt them.

– What?

Scarlett Dryden, the navigation officer, stood just ahead of them. This tall blonde, her hair tied back in a bun, her blue eyes framed by strict glasses, pointed with her hand, palm up as if she were presenting the latest novelty at a trade show, to the thin strip of transpacier that ran the width of the room.

Lone’s green surface filled almost all of their field of vision.

– The descent has begun, we must implement the landing phase urgently.

After this call to order, she returned to her post with a swaying gait, perched on her long legs, well aware of being followed by the admiral, this « old pervert ». After a scene like that, she would have been surprised if Kearney had kept his post. A victorious smile curled the corners of her mouth in spite of herself as she concentrated on the navigation console. She slid smoothly into her chair.

Over the desks, the other crew members present were watching them.

– In place! « shouted Alex

– Landing phase! » Admiral Brian said just as curtly, once again in focus.

The two men threw themselves into their respective chairs, ignoring each other.

– Zach, slow us down! ordered the captain. Noah, drop Europa. Dryden, I want numbers on our route! Day: approach path.

Erine Day, a redhead with a shaved head, large almond-shaped eyes and a barcode tattoo on her neck, nodded. Her green gaze riveted to the control screens, she tried to align horizontal and vertical lines on others that moved continuously with joysticks. Two large, plush dice dangled from a string above her, surrounded by switches and control buttons.

The admiral’s attention weighed heavily on the young woman. He made a grimace of disgust as he continued his reflections on the « adjustments » he intended to make once on Lone.

Uninterested in the technical details of the descent to Lone, he let his mind wander to the case of Lieutenant Day. This bare-headed original would also be part of the cart. He could hardly believe the results and evaluations Lieutenant Day had received at the academy. This « parvenue », whose family had never been in the fleet, was the valedictorian of her class. For the first time in decades, she had scored higher than him in basic training, shattering the legend and knocking him off the pedestal where he seemed destined to stand forever.

Even worse from her point of view: as a young fighter pilot, she had served and fought in a renowned squadron and had even been decorated.

Why did they make them, the senior officers? Vulgar bureaucrats? Stooges?

These « damn » war heroes were supposed to end up in stellar dust, with their names engraved on a marble monument, or reclassified for psychological disorders!

Well, not her…

As master of the assignments on board, he had relegated her to the position of main pilot of the spaceship so that she would not have to bear the sight of him during command meetings. This was not the only advantage in her eyes: to be able to occupy this position, she had to obtain another qualification, a specialist in the piloting of ships of the line. This qualification course was known to be difficult, and he hoped that she would fail, or that he would be able to get her up to speed during the training period on Earth. While she might have been eligible for a place on the staff, it didn’t seem to bother her too much. These unpretentious people, who wallowed in their misery, made him sick.

Once again she stood out from the crowd, outperforming all the trainees in the session, making her replacement unjustifiable.

Wearily, he simply ignored her.

A vibration ran through the frame which creaked under the constraints imposed to it by the maneuvers of the New Hope. The space base Europa disengaged from its fixations and took the direction of its geostationary orbit of observation alone. Entirely automated, it was to be used as an observation base and would be controlled from the consoles of the ship as well as the on-board computer.

Its programming foresaw that it would remain above the landing zone.

Noah’s voice rose in the silence, bringing the admiral back to reality.

– Admiral, the drones validate the environmental predictions of the settlement area. I’m running a comparative analysis against my databases and the resources at our disposal.

– Very good. How long will it take?

– Eleven hours from the time the first samples are made available, when we are on the surface.

Another jolt sent everyone to the left. Captain Kearney’s calm voice resumed:

– We still have too much of an angle. Erine, straighten his nose, it’s not a pick.

– With all due respect, sir, I do what I can.

– Mister Zach… William, we need to slow down… Scarlett, I want two different trajectories as an option in case something happens.

The chief engineer’s voice came back to him through the speakers from the engine room on the opposite side of the ship.

– I’ll take care of it, we have some excess fuel left.

The admiral gritted his teeth.

He was doing it again!

This unhealthy tendency to use the first names of his subordinates was unbearable. Christopher Brian was certain that Kearney was doing it to make him angry.

He wasn’t worried. One way or another, they would end up on this planet. At worst death would be quick and painless.

Turning away from the endless numbers scrolling on his console, which he didn’t understand much of, he ran through the lines of his finishing speech again, placing his wrist on the post in front of him. In any case, having always ignored the technical specifics that he believed were only meant for subordinates, he knew how to exploit the knowledge of the latter to make them take sole responsibility for failures, and share, or not, the successes.

His position dominates the rest of the bridge, so no one could see what he was doing. From below, he seemed to be particularly interested in what was happening on his controls.

Crew members in orange were running from one control panel to another in the corridors to ensure the functioning of the various mechanisms of the ship. We could follow their incessant running via the on-board cameras and the comings and goings in the room.

The captain, worried, scrolled the synoptic charts of the decks in front of him. The numerous detectors blinked in different colors according to the alarm families.

– Noah, I need the overall status of the New Hope in real time. If there is anything that can affect our maneuvers, I want you to report it to us. Where is Europa?

– Yes, Captain Kearney. Europa in orbit, awaiting our final position. At this time, our trajectory is within predicted tolerances. There is no major structural damage and propulsion is functioning optimally.

– Mwouais… how wide are the margins?

– I don’t understand the meaning of the question Sir

– Forget it, just follow my initial instructions.

That was at least one thing he and the admiral agreed on: that damn computer thing made the captain’s skin crawl. He couldn’t say why. He didn’t understand that the whole colonization program was based on a computer with no real control. How could anyone trust an artificial intelligence blindly?

As the ship entered the atmosphere, its heat shield began to burn away as it disintegrated. The entire structure vibrated and creaked under the strain of Lone’s pull and the pilot’s maneuvering to slow its descent as much as possible. The shaking became more and more violent, making it difficult to stand up.

A huge trail of flame, debris and black smoke stretched for miles in the wake of the gigantic earthbound aircraft as it fell to the ground.

This situation continued to worsen for many, many minutes. Concerned, Captain Kearney glanced from time to time at Edward Jackson, the flight engineer, who was beginning to despair. Brown-haired and of medium height, his lean body slid from one armrest to the other in the turbulence. He was one of those crew members who was already in a relationship before the mission started. He had met his companion during the preparations of the mission, she was part of the exploitation team as a geologist, just like Alex’s, and that had brought them closer all four.

The number of failures was increasing exponentially on his consoles and he was directing the technicians, whose team was reduced, by prioritizing according to the importance of the failures. Their eyes met. He shrugged with a confident smile, then returned to his duties, reacting promptly when a fire alarm flashed. Placing the microphone against his lips, he gave orders that Alex could not hear.

Next to the flight engineer was the console of Francis Anthony, the fluid technician specializing in stasis systems. Small in stature, with a pale face and neatly combed black hair, he had earned a solid reputation as a seducer during the long months of mission preparation among the space station personnel. Curiously, he had less success with the future colonists who sometimes struggled to take it seriously. However, he was the best in this specialty whose responsibilities were enormous: he held the life of more than seven hundred last « sleepers » in his hands. His thick eyebrows furrowed, he was in liaison with his technicians, fighting a major leak that threatened the proper functioning of the entire sarcophagus. He had to use all his knowledge to achieve a temporary bypass by isolating an entire sector of coolant. If he had made a mistake, he had killed them all.

The door to the bridge disappeared before Vanessa Twarby. Her orange jumpsuit was covered in burn marks, smoke still rising in her wake. A large pinkish gash ran across her face to the middle of her brush cut. She staggered around clutching the control desks.

Alex, stunned, followed her with his eyes. If he hadn’t had to hold his post, he would have rushed to her aid. Instead, he called out to the flight surgeon in a firm tone, holding on tightly to his desk.

– Jenny, I think we have something for you here…

– I’ll take it!

Dr. Long, a tall blond woman with her hair tied back in a ponytail, red jumpsuit with a white cross on the back, had already jumped out of the row of seats that occupied the back wall of the bridge. She seized her emergency kit in the passage and walked by holding on to the consoles on her way so much the apparatus was shaken. Arrived at the level of the post of Francis to which clung Vanessa with end of force, she made her sit on the ground and unpacked the compresses envisaged to neutralize the effects of the acid. This did not prevent the shocked technician from continuing her report to the lieutenant. He nodded and turned to the captain with a grimace of disgust after seeing pieces of skin on the young woman’s cheek peel off and sizzle.

– If… (he hiccupped, looking like he was about to vomit but pulled himself together) if we’re not on the ground in an hour, I’m going to have to wake up all the colonists urgently, Captain. We have a major cooling system failure. All the pumps are stopped!

Alex tried to catch the admiral’s eye, but he seemed to be concentrated on his screens, no doubt ruminating on the words exchanged earlier. He returned to the lieutenant who was waiting for a return and nodded in understanding. Despite the avalanche of alarms, he kept a relaxed attitude.

– If we’re not down in an hour, we won’t have time to worry about it, Mr. Anthony. Make the best of it.

– And go on…! Roared the flight engineer.

– A Jackson problem?

– Just one? Are you kidding? It’s a mess, we’re falling apart. I just lost another high voltage generator. If my sensors are any indication, we’re about to be blown to bits. Erine, only you could do that!

The respondent did not answer, just nodded, concentrating on her screens.

– I have no air circulation, no air conditioning on the bridge! Pearl Dale advised in her distinctive soft voice.

To Alex’s knowledge, it must have been one of the smallest in size of all the colonists. The ventilation control console was in a recessed corner. From his post, craning his neck, he could only see of her her bobbed haircut and her worried eyes above the screens that separated them.

He dared a lame joke with a smirk:

– No problem: Everyone seems to be holding their breath here. For the temperature issue, we’ll strip down as needed.

She raised an eyebrow, septic. He pouted, falsely disappointed.

– Too bad… Then addressing everyone: Come on Navy! Let’s stay focused. We are almost there.

In her seat, Erine Day was sweating through her coveralls, grumbling through clenched teeth.

– All this turbulence… it really doesn’t make my life easier. If I don’t anticipate the airflow, we’ll disintegrate. Note, far be it from me to throw a wrench in the works by telling you that we’re all going to end up in mid-air when this ship breaks up into little pieces.

The Admiral gave a sort of throat-clearance to remind himself of everyone’s good wishes. Informal conversations ceased.

The doctor walked Vanessa Twarby to one of the seats at the corner of the gangway, next to his, and strapped her in securely with the harness there. Her face was partly wrapped in a thick bandage. She seemed to be in a state of shock.

Jenny Long bowed her head on both clasped hands in response to the mate’s silent question. Vanessa was tranquilized. Her shift was over, for now.

When the heat shield was no longer needed, there was almost nothing left. The disintegrated components fell in the wake of