Page 15 of Earth 2788


  I headed over to lurk by a flag of humanity, and took a furtive look round. There was no podium or chairs, but that was traditional for a handover ceremony. Large amounts of furniture tended to spoil the untouched planet effect.

  The flags were in the correct position. There were strategically placed officers controlling the small hovering spheres of vid bees. The areas of grass where the Military formations should stand had been carefully mown to mark out the group positions. I knew we hadn’t managed the ultimate sin of forgetting the crystal presentation globe, because Commander Leveque was holding it.

  Commander Stone decided it was time to get the mob in order. “Places everyone!” Her highly magnified voice boomed out across the grassland, and the mob of Military started sorting themselves out into squares.

  Oh chaos, I hadn’t remembered to wear a microphone! I whirled round in panic, wondering whether to run for the nearest portal or try to find someone else with a microphone I could borrow, and nearly collided with a Military Support Captain. He dodged sideways, pinned a microphone to my collar, and then hurried off.

  I relaxed. Commander Stone really did have everything under control, even her idiot commanding officer.

  “If you aren’t in your designated place, get there now!” shouted Commander Stone. “We’re opening the cross-sector live link of the ceremony in five minutes, and several major newzie channels will be showing live scenes.”

  I guiltily hurried over to stand in the neatly mown circle of grass that marked the focal point of the ceremony. A huge flag of humanity hovered in midair above me. Commander Leveque came to stand to my left, and Commander Stone gave a last harassed look around.

  “Group B1, neaten your rows up, you look like a bunch of civilian school children! The vid coverage of this ceremony will be replayed every year on this world, so everything has to be perfect.” She paused and checked her lookup. “Stop gossiping now, everyone. Live link is opening in three minutes. Anthem will start playing ten seconds later. Colony Ten Command confirm incoming colonists one minute after that. Attention!”

  I sneaked a look over my shoulder. The square formations of Military had gone to attention. Commander Stone moved to stand at my right hand side. I hastily straightened to attention myself.

  There was a long pause and then the anthem started playing. I saw something moving overhead, had a ghastly moment when I thought it was a cloud, then saw it was just a flock of pale-pink, gossamer skimmers. Since we’d eliminated the big flying lizards that hunted them, there were much larger flocks of the delicate, seed-eating, gossamer skimmers now. That was going to be a potential problem for farmers trying to grow certain crops, but having gossamer skimmers eating the farmers’ crops was a lot better than having giant lizards eating the farmers.

  The three freight portals ahead of us flashed to life in unison, and people started flooding through. Some arrived as couples holding hands, while others came through singly. All of them were under 30 years old, except for the older couple at the front. Those two would have been Colony Ten founding colonists on one world already. They’d spent ten years working out how to deal with that world’s minor problems, and proving it was safe to be opened for full colonization. Now they were here to repeat that experience, this time as leaders of this Colony Ten group.

  It took a while for all the colonists to come through the portals. It wasn’t just people arriving; there were a symbolic selection of Earth animals too. I spotted horses, chickens, pigs, goats, and a few cows arriving. I wondered if the cow that kept bucking its head, trying to shake off its halter, was the recalcitrant one that General Kpossi had mentioned.

  The music had changed from anthem to hymn now. When the last few colonists had arrived through the portals, the hymn hit the high note and ended. Military and civilians all saluted the flag of humanity.

  I gave the traditional speech of welcome after that, the one that half of humanity could probably recite from memory, and I saw the colonists tense as I reached the key point. Not a single planet had reached Colony Ten stage without at least one member of the Military dying. The colonists were waiting to hear the human cost of giving them their world. How many names were they going to hear? The lists were usually either very short or dreadfully long, because when things started going wrong on a Planet First mission they could rapidly spiral out of control.

  In most of those cases, the world was abandoned, but sometimes the scientists came up with an effective solution and it was eventually colonized. Sobek in Epsilon sector was the most famous recent example. Reciting the names at that handover ceremony had taken hours.

  I started reciting names, with the standard ten second pause between each, and saw the colonists react with relief when the seventh name was followed by the traditional words. “They died to offer new worlds to humanity.”

  Then there was the two minutes’ silence. I knew exactly what the colonists were thinking during that silence. Every new world had its memorial to the Military who made it safe for colonization. That listed the names of all the Military who’d worked on that world, but the centre point of the memorial was always the names of those who’d died. This world wouldn’t be another Sobek. This world would have a mercifully short list of names.

  After the silence, Commander Leveque passed me the crystal globe. I lifted it up and held it still for a full minute, so the hovering vid bees could capture the lines carved into its surface. Those lines showed the shapes of the continents of K21228, with the continent we stood on delicately inlaid in gold.

  Finally, I lowered the globe, the two leaders of the colonists stepped forward, and I literally handed them their new world.

  “What are you naming this world?” I asked.

  The man accepted the globe, and the woman smiled. “This world is called Maia,” she said.

  I nodded. “May the sun shine brightly on Maia.”

  On cue to the second, a team of sixteen fighters swooped in over the hills, trailing sparkling bands of gold dust across the sky.

  The portals flared to life again now. The Military squares started moving in turn, marching in formation to the portals, then dividing into three columns to step through. Finally Commander Stone, Commander Leveque, and I were the only Military left. We saluted, marched to the central portal and stepped through.

  The vid bees would still be in position, their images showing the colonists and their animals now. In a few minutes, the transport sleds would arrive through the portals, and the colonists would start building the domes they’d need for shelter tonight. The Military had all gone now. The colonists had been left on their new world to cope alone for the next ten years.

  Except, of course, that was just a romantic myth. The Colony Ten years were a carefully planned process, involving gradual introduction of Earth livestock and crops into an alien world with its own ecology. A group of Military scientists and a full Medical team had already moved into their Colony Ten Support dome, and would be helping the colonists through any problems they faced.

  And the rest of the Military hadn’t gone at all. We’d portalled back to our base, arriving outside the huge central dome. Nobody would leave until tomorrow, because there was still one very important thing to happen. The handover party!

  Most people were already heading into the domes to get ready for that party, but I stood still for a moment, letting the tension ease away. I heard a sigh from next to me. Someone else was suffering the aftermath of tension too. I turned to smile at Commander Stone. “The ceremony went perfectly, Commander. Well done.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I glanced from her to Commander Leveque. “You two go and get ready for the party now, while I call the terrifying General Hiraga.”

  The two of them went into the dome, and I tapped my lookup. The face of a young Captain appeared on the screen. “Planet First Central Command Support,” he said.

  “Colonel Torrek calling General Hiraga,” I said.

  There was a brief pause before the image chan
ged to show General Hiraga.

  “Sir, K21228 has left Planet First and moved to Colony Ten jurisdiction,” I said. “Requesting permission to officially stand down our Planet First teams.”

  She nodded. “Permission granted, Colonel. Excellent handover ceremony. A little minor disruption from a cow at one point, but I imagine the cow hadn’t had the benefit of Military training.”

  I dutifully smiled. “No, sir.” I paused for a second before pointedly adding. “The handover ceremony was completely organized by Commander Stone.”

  I waited to see if General Hiraga would say anything, but she didn’t. “I hope that addresses your concerns about Commander Stone’s administrational skills, sir,” I added.

  She kept me in suspense for another thirty seconds before nodding. “I believe it does. I shall add Commander Stone’s name to the list of approved candidates for promotion to full Colonel.”

  My smile was genuine this time. “Thank you, sir.”

  The step from Commander to Colonel was notorious for being the hardest promotion to achieve in the Military. You could earn that promotion in one of three ways. Some were forced into the role of acting commanding officer by a disaster on a Planet First mission, and proved their brilliance by getting a nightmare situation under control. I’d had the easy route, being carried along in the wake of someone that brilliant. Nia Stone had done it by pure hard work.

  “That information must remain strictly confidential for now though, Colonel,” said General Hiraga. “Stone will have to wait for a suitable opening for a Planet First command before she gets her promotion. And by suitable, I mean that it has to be a command on a planet that’s already in a reasonably stable state. Stone’s not had any experience as an acting commanding officer in a crisis situation, and I’m not giving the Planet First command of a raw new world to someone totally green.”

  She paused. “Once we’ve found Stone a post, we’ll need to arrange a position for her husband too, but Leveque could take the role of either Threat team leader or deputy commanding officer. It should be possible to free up one of those positions with standard personnel transfers.”

  I nodded. I had no concerns about that side of things at all. Since few civilians considered crossing the huge divide between civilian and Military life, it was absolutely vital for the Military to do everything it could to help its officers to maintain their relationships and raise the children who would mostly join the Military themselves. Once Stone had her command, I knew Leveque would join her there within weeks, even if a temporary position had to be created for him.

  “It may be some time before there’s an appropriate opening,” said General Hiraga. “You could help me out with that. Delay retiring for a while, and take another Planet First command. As soon as I agree your planet is stable, you can hand your command to Stone.”

  I was annoyed by the blatant attempt at emotional blackmail, but I mustn’t lose my temper with General Hiraga. It wouldn’t harm me, I was retiring within hours, but it might damage Nia’s chances.

  “Sir, getting a new planet stable would take at least two to three years, perhaps far longer. I’d hope a suitable post will arise for Commander Stone well before that, so I’d rather continue with my retirement as planned.”

  General Hiraga sighed. “If you insist, Colonel. I suppose your handover party will be starting now. Is Commander Stone organizing that too?”

  “No, sir.” I enjoyed watching Hiraga’s face as I told her the bad news. “Major Drago Tell Dramis volunteered to organize the party.”

  General Hiraga shuddered. “I just hope there’s a planet left at the end of it.”

  I ended the call, and headed to my quarters. To my relief, I discovered they were still intact, though the front door was sagging a bit on its hinges. I thankfully changed back into my ordinary uniform, and went to stand in front of the three holo portraits.

  “The handover ceremony went beautifully.” I pulled a face at the exemplary Military officer in the right hand portrait, and imitated his lazy voice. “Farm boy did well. I …”

  My lookup chimed. I checked the screen, saw it was Drago Tell Dramis, and accepted the call.

  “We’re nearly ready, sir,” he said.

  “I’m on my way.”

  I headed across to the central dome, and found it had been transformed. All the partitions for rooms and corridors had been removed to leave one massive, echoing space. It should have been dark and gloomy, but glowing, colourful abstract images were projected on the curving, grey flexiplas interior of the dome, and the floor was covered by speckles of gold. Overhead, tiny gold suns drifted around, casting random pools of light beneath them.

  It all looked both spectacular and horribly familiar. Naturally it would look familiar. Every handover party stole ideas from ones that came before it, I’d gone to a lot of handover parties in six decades, and even helped organize a few. My memories of the first ones were pure joyful exuberance, only tempered by the awareness that I mustn’t get powered enough to set off any distress flares. At least, not inside a dome!

  Later, the three of us had been old enough and senior enough to at least try to behave ourselves, and then …

  In the last twenty years, I’d been to a couple of handover parties, but I hadn’t stayed long at any of them. I’d give this one an hour or two before I went to hide in my quarters.

  I shook away the memories, and looked around for Drago. The dome was already filling up with people, some wearing their Military uniforms and others in distinctive clothes specific to various sectors or worlds. Most of the people wearing those clothes wouldn’t have been born on those worlds themselves, but their ancestors had. One of the ways the Military kept its links to the sectors, was to encourage its officers to maintain their diverse cultural heritage. A handover party was one of the classic situations where that diversity showed.

  Drago came over to meet me, looking resplendent in a Betan toga. “What do you think of the decor, sir?”

  “Excellent job.” I pointed at the floor. “Are the gold specks the same dust you used in the flypast at the handover ceremony?”

  He grinned. “Yes. Commander Leveque advised us how to mix it with glue and spray it onto the floor.”

  I smiled. “I’m delighted to hear my Threat team leader has been entering into the party spirit.”

  “Permission to give the five minute warning, sir?”

  “Permission granted, Major.”

  Drago tapped at his lookup. I clenched my hands and braced myself. I told myself I was ready for the base sirens to go off, just the way they did at the start of every handover party. I told myself they wouldn’t be screaming alarm signals, but sounding the lighthearted notes of the base stand down. I told myself it wouldn’t affect me this time, but of course it did.

  The second the first note sounded, I was nearly two decades back in time. The sirens were blaring out the evacuation sequence, and I was being dragged along the floor of a corridor. Both of my legs had been smashed to pieces despite the protection of my impact suit, and the man dragging me had lost part of one arm. I was screaming at him to leave me, but he somehow got me to the portal and thrust me through.

  I’d arrived in an emergency evacuation centre, been grabbed by a triage doctor, and then waved on to an officious medical team. It was two years before I forgave them for saving my life. It was three years before I was anything remotely like a functional human being. It was four years before I wore a Military uniform again.

  I’d built a new life since then, and it worked after a fashion, but I kept a defensive wall between it and my old one. I kept in touch with a few people, some ties went too deep to break, but things could never be the same now I was alone. Parties were just one of the things I’d left behind me.

  I came back to the present and found Drago staring at me with a face filled with concern. “Are you all right, sir?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said, in what I hoped was a brisk voice. “You’d better go and get ready
for the vid show.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Drago gave me a last doubtful look, but dutifully went away. Civilians led nice, safe lives, and could expect to celebrate their hundredth before dying. Things were very different for the Military. A lot of officers lived with bereavement or mental scars, and the Military convention was to show respect by quietly accepting occasional oddities without pushing for painful explanations.

  I hoped that these days the only outward sign of my past problems was my odd reaction to base sirens. I kept my conversations with dead people to the privacy of my quarters, but Commander Stone openly addressed comments to the ceilings or walls. By now, the whole base must have worked out that she was talking to someone she’d loved and lost, but only her husband, myself as her commanding officer, and our Medical team leader needed to know it was her twin sister.

  The lights of the floating suns were dimming now, and an image of Maia from space was projected on a special flat section of wall. Blue and white, like all of the carefully selected colony worlds of humanity. When the image changed to the flag of humanity, everyone in the dome, in uniform or not, saluted.

  My own voice started speaking, recorded from the handover ceremony, reciting seven names. There was a face displayed on the wall for each name, and then the screen changed to show an image of me holding up the crystal globe. The woman colonist’s voice rang out around the dome.

  “This world is called Maia.”

  Then the music started, and everyone relaxed. The solemnities were over, and it was time to remember the moments that had either been funny at the time, or we could laugh at now we knew they’d ended happily. The vid began by showing a member of the Science team, staring at a screen of technical information.

  “This is odd,” he said. “Sample 2782/94223 is virtually identical to an Earth apple.”

  Another scientist stepped into view, his face outraged. “That’s not a sample! That’s part of my lunch!”

  Everyone laughed, and another vid clip started. A group of Military scientists and Commander Leveque were frowning at a small furry creature lying in the corner of a cage.