In order to keep you guessing, and so this won’t take until April 24th since that’s really kind of ridiculous, I’m posting Chapter 3 of: When the Stars Walk Backwards. And since I like to include a little disclaimer with each posting – to save face, as it were – again keep in mind this was written 10 years ago. It’s a tale filled with cliches, angst, and over-the-top stuff most writers tackle when they’re first starting out. I take heart in knowing how much I’ve grown since this was written, how much more I’ve learned. I also take a little satisfaction knowing that the mistakes and goofiness in this first serious novel are the same mistakes many well known and highly sucessful authors made when THEY were first starting out.

So that means . . . I’m normal! 😀

In this chapter is one of the many common cliches newbie writers enjoy – The Shower Scene. Yessir, I not only wrote descriptive shower scenes, but I added a hotsprings on this planet and let my MC’s enjoy it often. So, in the words of that dude from Jurrasic Park “Hold on to your butts.”

Chapter 3

“Did you mean that?” Bryce looked up after securing himself in the co-pilot’s seat. “About needing a deputy?”

“Every word of it.” Mac flipped the door-lock and secured the hatch, then glanced back at the younger man. His face was the picture of conflict, trying hard not to show his feelings, but failing. “They appointed me their Head of Security, more of a token job than anything, really.” He sat down and began the sequence for prepping the shuttle. “But eventually, they’re going to need someone to police them.” Bryce was watching the instruments in front of him, but Mac could tell he wasn’t seeing anything. His eyes were unfocused, trying to comprehend a million new things at once. “In order to keep these people in line, I’m going to have to learn everything I can about this new environment. And, the way I see it, you’re the only one around who knows the place. So the smart thing for me to do is keep you close.” When the engines reached lift-off capacity, he set the fuel level and took the controls in both hands. “I figured having you as a deputy would be the easiest way to do it. Unless you have objections.”

Bryce looked up quickly and shook his head. “No. No, I just — I don’t want you to do this because of them.”

“Don’t worry.” Mac eased the shuttle off the ground, then let it begin to ascend gently before moving forward. “My reasons are purely selfish.”

They left the complex far behind as the shuttle lifted higher into the atmosphere. Mac glanced at his passenger and found him watching the landscape below, no fear or apprehensive body language visible. He’d either flown before, or he was able to allow curiosity to overtake fear when it suited him. A good quality in any man, and highly desirable in someone Mac was talking into showing him around this new world. It was an attitude that remained when they broke through the canopy of Oblivion’s atmosphere and entered the twilight of upper orbit. A few miles past the southern hemisphere and they’d achieve the altitude of true space.

Bryce was taking it all in quietly, and Mac could see his attitude was one of ease, maybe even growing confidence. The kid had been through a whirlwind of changes overnight and so far had come out pretty well, all things considered. Couple that with what Mac knew could only have been a few hours of uneasy sleep last night, and he wasn’t surprised breakfast with seventy-three strangers had been too difficult a challenge.

But how his own world had changed so quickly, he was still trying to understand. Experience had taught him to not only expect the unexpected, but deal with it. And deal with it he was. But he hadn’t counted on Bryce Keegan. Mac had never been one to take in strays, but if anyone ever needed a big brother, this kid qualified. He was obviously capable of surviving alone. Even if he couldn’t recall more than the last ten years of his life, he’d been able to keep himself alive, keep the equipment in the complex functioning, maintain crops, and generally manage an entire planet alone. Still, he was no match for a large group of frightened people looking for answers. Mac’s sense of justice compelled him to step in, and see if he could get this brother thing to work out for once.

“It looks almost familiar.”

Bryce’s statement brought Mac out of his thoughts in time to adjust the shuttle’s approach to the Kensington. “It’s an old surplus supply ship.” He eased the shuttle up next to the airlock and felt the clunk of metal on metal as the hatches met for the last time. “Not unlike the ship your group came out in.” That was probably the reason behind Bryce’s apparent lack of fear. “Do you remember the trip?” He motioned to the seat straps and began to undo his own.

“Not really.” Bryce unbuckled himself from the co-pilot’s seat and stood up, walking toward the hatch as he waited for Mac. “I remember hallways. And my room–I remember my bunk.” He ran a hand over his long dark hair and shook his head, gazing off into inner space while artificial gravity generators hummed beneath their feet. “And stars. I remember spending hours staring at the stars. Did you do that?”

Mac smiled and typed in the code to release the hatch doors. Maybe Bryce finally realized it was just the two of them here, and that there weren’t three hundred people waiting on the other side of the door? Being alone seemed to be relaxing him quite a bit. He might even start to open up.

“I’ve spent most of my life in space.” The hatch doors opened with a soft whoosh. “And I never got tired of looking at stars.” Mac led the way through the airlock, then into the Kensington. Once inside the larger ship, they were able to walk side by side on the long trek to the command center. Several times along the way, Bryce stopped and glanced around, almost as if he was looking for something.

“These things can give you the creeps when they’re empty like this.” Mac stepped through the hatch and into the piloting section of the Kensington. The planet below was a huge, blue monolith filling the view ports in front of them.

“I kinda like it.” Bryce stepped closer to the screens and gazed at his planet. “Is it true there’s no sound in space?”

Mac set the control box on top of the navigational consol and flipped the clasps open. “For the most part, yeah.” Reluctantly, he allowed his thoughts to drift back. Feelings of cold isolation coursed over his spine, then in an instant they were gone, replaced by the sounds of screaming metal. He shook himself to clear his mind and noticed Bryce watching him. “If you’re ever alone with no input from a headset or machine noise to distract you, then yeah, it’s perfectly silent. You could be right beside the drive engines and not hear a thing.” Mac cleared his throat and started to remove the instruments he needed from the case. “Problem is finding that kind of solitude. If you’re in a fighter, you’ve got the instruments constantly beeping at you, or communications coming through. Even when they’re quiet, you get a white noise from the headsets.” Bryce wasn’t the only one with memories to deal with. Trouble was, Mac wanted to forget his.

“They disconnected Five.” The quiet words were directed at the floor.

Mac stopped what he was doing and met the younger man’s eyes when he looked up again. “That’s something we should talk about.”

Bryce nodded and looked at his hands. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“No, it does matter. That computer was a big part of your life, and a group of strangers just came in and switched him off. But trust me, they had good reason.”

“Yeah.” Bryce reached up and pushed a strand of hair from his face. “We can talk about it later.”

Mac glanced at the controls strewn around the console Bryce was leaning against and shrugged slightly. “If that’s what you want.”

The younger man nodded and took a deep breath, the look of resignation in his lavender-blue eyes changing just a bit.

“Listen, let’s get this tank set for destruction and take a walk-through, okay?”

Bryce reached out and picked up one of the components. “Is this a directional input?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.” Mac removed the last of the parts from his case and held up the largest of the pieces. “It goes into this, and sets the adjustments for the Kensington’s attitude thrusters.” He handed Bryce the master cylinder he was holding. “There’s no up, down, or sideways out here, but when you’re orbiting, you set yourself in line with the planet just so your passengers don’t get dizzy if they look out. Where did you learn about this stuff?”

Bryce examined the cylinder and shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. Five used to teach me a lot of useless stuff to keep me occupied, I think.” He handed the equipment back.

“Great. You can give me a hand, then.” Mac smiled and pointed to the access panel. “Pull that open and let’s get to it.”

What Bryce had considered ‘useless stuff’, Mac discovered was a gold mine of information. All he lacked was hands-on experience, but his willingness to learn and quick mind got the job done in less than half the time it would have taken Mac to do it alone. When they finished, they walked the entire length of the massive vessel to check for anything left to salvage before sending the Kensington on a one-way trip into the sun.
During their tour, Bryce asked several questions about the ship, the science behind the Particle Launch responsible for their journey, and the reasons for destroying the Kensington instead of leaving it in orbit. He avoided asking about the people Mac had traveled with or what they had thought of Oblivion when they arrived. For the sake of Bryce’s openness and good mood, Mac willingly stayed on whatever subject he chose. Now and then, he would lapse into a silence that lasted until Mac could find something casual to say or ask. He didn’t want to leave the younger man in his solitude for more than ten minutes at a time, for fear he’d withdraw back inside himself again. During that time, he found Bryce to be bright, highly intelligent, and for the most part, unafraid. Something he was sure would change again when they returned, if he was forced back into a corner of the basement for privacy.

They found quite a bit of leftover wiring, circuit boards, panels and a few tools that had been forgotten in the rush to empty out the ship, all of which they carried to the shuttle and secured in the upper bay. After stowing the last of the salvage they found, Mac glanced around the smaller ship and nodded as his vision of what the Aloft would soon become filled his mind.

“Do you think this ship will fit on that rise to the south of the complex? I thought we could use the engines when we land to dig in the bottom level on one side, leave the upper section above ground, but sort of wall up this side. That would put the ramp at a more gentle angle.”

Bryce shot him a puzzled look, eyebrows creased. “What do you mean?”

Mac grinned, then motioned for Bryce to follow. To the left of the cockpit, a spiral staircase led down to the lower level, originally used as a living area during long space missions. The stairs opened out beside the galley.

“This shuttle used to be home to two people for months at a time during exploration missions.” They walked past the galley and into what was now a temporary seating section. Rows of bolted-down seats filled the main living area, and a few single seats even stretched into the cubby hole outside the second berth. “I plan to restore it down here, get rid of these temporary seats and bring in some furniture that I brought.” He pulled open the door to the first berth and pointed inside. “With the shelves and beds back, they’re really pretty nice rooms. And the sanitary unit is plenty big enough. I want to plumb it for fresh water.”

Bryce glanced into the bathroom, then looked at Mac. “You’re going to live here?” The look of confusion was gone, replaced by amazement.

“Yeah.” Mac smiled. “It’s not much to look at now, but by the time we’re through fixing it up, it’ll be the perfect place. A little unconventional, maybe, but practical. The upper level can be office space, a work shop, storage, and even a meeting room.”

“We?” Bryce followed him back to the galley.

“It has two staterooms, plenty of private space. You’re my deputy, after all. We’ll have the office upstairs, there’s plenty of room there. The galley’s pretty big once we clear out these shipping brackets and get the table back in. I’m not a bad cook, actually.” Mac stopped inside the kitchen, turning to look at Bryce. The kid still looked a little puzzled as he gazed around the lower level, but there was a definite look of hope in his eyes. And a small hint of fear. Mac shrugged to help ease Bryce into accepting. “Beats the hell out of the basement, don’t you think?”

Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, I guess I could handle that.”

“Good.” Mac gestured to the stairs. “Let’s finish what we came to do and get going.”

They walked back to the command center, discussing the easiest way to dig the Aloft into the soft dirt of the small hillside fifty yards south of the complex. Mac had planned it out pretty well in his head already, and only had to make a few small adjustments after Bryce explained the placement of the complex’s plumbing. Fresh water was piped in from the lake behind the settlement and could be tapped into with relative ease, giving Mac the unlimited fresh water that had always been his dream.

The auto pilot controls were hooked up and ready, needing only the final commands that would take the Kensington on a collision course with the sun. Mac had just finished typing in the commands when he looked up and saw all the color drain from Bryce’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Alarmed, he looked around the room for the source of panic.

“How long have we been up here?” Bryce’s voice was a whisper and he began to back up, staring at the view port.

“Just about four hours.” Mac looked out the window, but saw nothing more than the planet and the large moon now hanging above it. “Bryce, it’s only noon down at the complex. We can see the moon because we’re in space.” Was that what was upsetting him?

Bryce swallowed hard, then looked away from the screen with obvious difficulty. He stared at the floor and nodded. “We should go.”

Mac looked outside again, still seeing nothing but Oblivion and its single, oversized moon. He wanted to ask what he was missing out there that had the younger man so terrified, but there was sweat beading up on Bryce’s forehead. Whatever he was seeing, or imagining, was real enough to leave him pale and trembling. “We’re done.” He set the controls for a thirty minute delay and flipped the power switch. “Let’s go.”

Bryce nodded, but didn’t leave the room until Mac joined him near the door. They walked together back to the shuttle in silence, Mac trying to hurry, hoping their quick departure would return Bryce’s happier mood, while Bryce very obviously tried to keep himself from running back to the shuttle. Once onboard, they could no longer see the moon from the angle of the smaller vessel and Bryce seemed to calm down a bit. To distract him further, Mac kept up a running tutorial of the instrument panel during their descent, showing him the controls they would continue to use for mapping, communications, weather tracking and other record-keeping needs, and set the onboard computer to respond to his commands as well as Mac’s. It wasn’t until they entered the atmosphere and were again bathed in the full sun of Oblivion’s day that Bryce relaxed again.

Mac contacted the complex, warning everyone that he was going to land on the hill designated for his new home. The shuttle’s engines would do the digging, gouging out a niche in the soft earth that would slope up the near-side of the ship, but the process was guaranteed to kick up a lot of dirt. By the time they were hovering over the site, everyone had cleared away from that side of the buildings and covered the remaining outdoor equipment with tarps.

“Well, here’s hoping I calculated this right.”

“You did, I checked.” Bryce was looking out the side view port at the ground several yards below them.

Mac laughed shortly, then shrugged. “Okay, then, we can’t both be wrong.”

With one eye on the panel and one eye out the view port, Mac began the delicate maneuvering that used the shuttle’s engines to dig a slope in the ground. Massive amounts of dust and dirt soon made it impossible to see through the windows, but the instruments all read clear. Within minutes, he was landing Aloft for the last time. As the engines powered down, both he and Bryce stayed where they were, silently judging their success.

“I think we did it.” Mac smiled and unhooked his seat straps, standing up. The floor was level, the ship securely in place. He turned to Bryce and found him smiling for the first time.

“I think you’re right.”

Mac was about to comment when they heard a rapping on the shuttle door. Bryce’s smile vanished immediately, but Mac motioned for him to come to the entrance. “There’s a locking panel on both sides.” He flipped down the small panel next to the door, revealing a keypad. “The code is 4859.” He typed in those numbers, then rested his finger on the Activate button. “That’s new as of right now, so only you and I can lock or unlock this door, and the ship, got it?” Bryce nodded and Mac hit the button, opening the door.

“Brennan, how’d it go?” Commander Alexander was the only one waiting on the other side, standing on top of the ramp. Other people milled around below, admiring the shuttle’s position in the ground, but no one else seemed interested in entering the ship they’d all flown down on the day before.

“Fine, Ben. The Kensington should vaporize sometime around midnight tonight, I’d say.” Mac stepped aside and motioned for Ben to come inside. Bryce positioned himself conveniently behind and to the left of him, watching the commander. “I hope we didn’t make too much of a mess planting this thing.”

Ben shrugged, smiling. “Just some dust, nothing that won’t blow away. So, you’re really going to live here, then?”

“Yes, we are.” Mac stepped inside and began to unstrap the bundles he and Bryce had brought down, motioning for his new partner to unhook the opposite side. “It was designed to be lived in, you know. Once we get her back to her original shape, she’ll make a fine home.”

“We?” Ben looked at Mac, then Bryce. “Are you going to be living here, too?”

“He’s my deputy, Ben,” Mac answered for him. “This shuttle’s plenty big enough for two, and then some.”

Ben glanced around the open bay, nodding. “Yes, I imagine it is.”

“Besides, if Bryce ever gets sick of me, he’s free to kick me out.” Mac slapped his partner on the arm and winked at the look he was given, then nodded to Ben and followed him out the door with an armload of circuit boards. Bryce was right behind them both with a load of his own.

The shuttle’s ramp was in a direct line fifty yards from a side entrance leading to the main hallway of the complex’s southern building. There, they found the surplus storage area and deposited their salvaged circuit boards.

Ben held the doors open while they deposited their load. “Bryce, I have to compliment you on the lists you gave our botanists, they’re very detailed. Did you put them together?”

Bryce stood and pushed hair out of his eyes, glancing at Mac. “No, not all of it. Five already had a lot there.” He swallowed, and Mac could see his eyes dart to the now-dead monitor in the corner of the large storage room. “He made me keep the files up-to-date.”

“Well, it’s been very helpful. Saved us months of research.”

Mac finished placing his armload on a shelf. Bryce was standing right beside him, keeping an eye on the commander. It was almost as if he knew what Ben had been considering just the other night, and was keeping a wary distance. But he couldn’t possibly have heard the discussion, since he was in the basement at the time, and they had already disconnected Five. Still, if it came down to it, Mac would tell Bryce what the command staff had been discussing. Since it concerned his life, he had a right to know.

“Well, we’d better find where Eddie put our furniture.”

“Oh, before I forget, the kitchens have been running full time. All the cooks and horticulturists are climbing over each other trying out these new foods and recipes, so there’s a meal ready any time of the day or night. At least until the newness wears off.” Ben smiled and stepped away from the door. “But I would like to meet with you to discuss some of the other concerns, such as livestock, weather, terrain, things of that nature.”

“Yeah, okay.” Bryce nodded and fell into step very close behind Mac as they proceeded down the hall farther into the complex.

“That can wait a few days, can’t it, Ben? We’ve got some work to do ourselves.”

“Oh, I’m sure it can.” Ben smiled, glancing over his shoulder at Bryce. He stopped at a corridor and nodded toward a door at the end. “I’ve got plenty of that myself. We’ll talk later, then, when you two have that office of yours straightened out. It’s going to be another week before anyone is ready to begin exploring.”

Mac watched Ben for a moment as he walked down the hall, then turned to Bryce and pointed toward the back of the building . “I think Eddie stacked all the crates and tools in that covered area outside. We’ll have to gut the shuttle out before we can replace the panels and desks.” Bryce glanced down the hall and nodded willingly. “This is going to be a few days’ hard work. You sure you don’t mind? You’re not doing this because I talked you into it, are you?” The last thing he wanted was to find out this kid was too scared to say no.

“No,” Bryce replied immediately. “No, it’s fine, I don’t mind.” He swallowed and glanced around at the various people coming and going down the wide corridor. “Like you said, I don’t think I could keep sleeping in the basement.”

Mac smiled and nodded once. “Okay. Let’s get to work then.”

They found the tools next to stacks of crates all marked with Mac’s tags and labels, then went to work removing the storage rails and hooks the Aloft had been fitted with. Bryce had no trouble at all with the tools Mac gave him, so they quickly fell into a rhythm of unbolting, removing, and stacking the metal fixtures. Now and then, when the stack grew too tall, Mac would gather them up and haul them to the area designated for scrap recycling. One of the engineers was already setting up the huge reclamation unit that would eventually handle everything from metal to cloth fibers, returning them to a reusable state, or something altogether different.

During one trip out, Mac made a stop in the mess hall to pick up lunch. The room was as busy as Ben had said, with people milling in and out as they grew hungry. Even with a constant flow of diners, the large room seemed to be full at any given moment. He found a tray and stacked up an assortment of meats, fruits and breads that he could identify from Bryce’s morning lecture, snagged two large bottles of water, then squeezed through the corridor and out a side exit, around the back of the building, and back to the shuttle.

By the time he returned to the ship, there was another large stack of metal racks near the door, and sounds were coming from below. Mac took the stairs down and found his partner removing the third seat from the front row. Sweat was beginning to soak Bryce’s shirt as it had been Mac’s. “How about a break, huh? I brought us a late lunch.”

Bryce pulled the chair up and added it to the small stack he’d already started, then wiped his forehead and looked at Mac. “Oh, yeah.” He ran his hands through his shoulder-length hair while he walked to the galley, pulling it back into a ponytail. “What time is it?” From his pocket came a leather strap he used to tie the hair back.

“A little after two o’clock.” Mac set the food on a section of the galley counter that protruded out into a bar, then pulled off his shirt. “We’ll have to adjust the ship’s atmospheric controls, I don’t think we’ll get the view ports open anytime soon.” He’d been trying to figure out a way to convert the air-tight windows into something they could open and close, but he hadn’t come up with anything yet.

“It’s better that you don’t.” Bryce reached out for a bottle of water and a piece of round, blue fruit, and sat down.

Mac tossed his shirt over one of the temporary seats and picked up the other bottle, twisting the cap off. Bryce’s face had gone dark again and he was studying the fruit in his hand. “It’s probably too much work, anyway. We can alter the recyclers to vent with outside air.” He sat on the chair next to his discarded shirt and took a long drink of the bright blue water. The feel of the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat was heaven. Imagining even more water, cascading over his body in the shower for as long as he wanted to stand there, was almost too much.

Bryce ate quietly and Mac’s tiredness made it easy to follow suit. He made himself a sandwich out of the bread and meats, then sat back down and ate, occasionally glancing around the living quarters as another thought occurred to him. His deputy was proving to be handy with tools and a very hard worker, willing to tackle the sweaty task of gutting their new home without complaint. Mac half-expected the kid to freak out and refuse the offer of sharing the Aloft, but he knew the only choice was either the basement corner he’d found last night, or one of the crowded, dormitory-style rooms the other colonists were bunking down in. Taking Bryce on had surprised Mac, more than anything else he’d done. But it was the right thing to do, for both of them. Alone, the younger man was no match for the people who would soon press the issue of his memory. And having taken a stand against them on that issue, Mac might soon find himself very much alone. It made sense that they be alone together.

“Did they replace Five?”

Mac looked up, slightly surprised by the break in the silence. Bryce was picking at the cap of the bottle in his hand, his voice quiet. “Yes, they did.” This wasn’t going to be easy, but Mac couldn’t help feeling good about him asking. “It wasn’t something they’d planned to do, Bryce. We got the data while we were still on approach, and found some…problems.” How do you tell someone their sole companion for ten years had gone insane?

“He lies.” Bryce looked up, meeting Mac’s gaze. “I used to think computers couldn’t do that, but I know he does, sometimes.”

Mac sighed and leaned forward, setting his water bottle down. “Years ago, when they first had success with these artificial intelligence units, they had some problems. Manufacturing something with a sense of self is asking for trouble, in my opinion. But they didn’t ask me.” Bryce nodded, and set his empty bottle on the step beside him. “We found the records Five was keeping had been heavily encrypted, which goes against everything he was designed for.”

“He always told me his memory was damaged. Was that true?” Bryce’s face took on a determined look. “Did he remember what happened to everyone?”

“We think so.” Mac shook his head with the remembered frustration of pouring over those files with Lise for so many hours. “He’s got every day accounted for since he was brought down and turned on, but most of the information is scrambled. Ben–Commander Alexander–and some of the others think it was done on purpose. They think the computer…well, that it went insane over the years, assuming too much responsibility.”

Bryce looked down at his hands. “There were times I thought he knew, but he would never tell me.” He started shaking his head slowly, still looking down. “Sometimes I was afraid of him.”

Mac sighed quietly and nodded. He was taking this pretty well, but it seemed as if he had known it might come. “The computer these people brought is different than Five. They make them better now, more along the lines of the older computers, with far less independence.” He paused, glancing over at the instrument panel on the wall of the shuttle. “I’ve got an independent unit in here, very basic, nothing AI about it.” He’d even erased the downloaded data from Five, just in case those files contained any virus.

“Is there any way to find out what he hid?” Bryce glanced up, arching his eyebrows. “Can’t you make him decode it or something?”

“No,” Mac shook his head. “His encryption is so thorough, only he can interpret it. And from what I understand, he pretty much refused all attempts. Ben’s people managed to save some of the data, but without Five to decode it, I don’t think they’ll get anywhere.”

“So…they just erased him?”

Now for the tricky part. “Not exactly.” This was going to be the equivalent of telling someone their lifelong teacher had just committed suicide. “They were downloading his files, preparing to shut him down, when he disappeared.”

Bryce’s eyebrows creased in puzzlement. “Disappeared?”

“Completely. I don’t understand it myself. Some kind of self-deletion or something. Maybe his last chance to hide whatever it was he was keeping from you, I’m not sure.” Mac stood and looked down at Bryce. “If we still had access to him, there might be a chance to decode the data, but I doubt it.”

Bryce looked away for a moment, then picked up his water bottle and stood. “I’m sorry. You all came here expecting to find answers.”

“This isn’t your fault, Bryce.” Mac stepped over beside the stairwell and looked down at the younger man. “After twenty years, you had every right to believe no one was coming. The computer was programmed to record and release all information, that’s what failed.” He paused, hoping Bryce would understand. This was too much responsibility for one young, isolated man to take on his shoulders. “Listen to me,” Mac waited until Bryce looked him in the eyes. “Everything that happened since you were brought here has been out of your hands. Your group, the war, this new colony, none of this is your fault, or your responsibility. What happens from today on is the only thing you need to worry about.”

Reluctantly, Bryce nodded. “I guess we’d better get back to work.”

“Yeah.” Mac had to restrain himself from reaching out and giving his new partner a brotherly pat of reassurance. Too much adjustment in one day might just snap the kid. But deep down, he had really hoped he could have found something in those files, something that would give this kid back some of his life. He’d unloaded the data his own computer downloaded from Five, but Ben might still have some of it. There would be plenty of time in the future to work on them. But right now, they had other concerns. “We’d better get those rooms into shape. I don’t fancy another night on the floor.”

The chairs came up quickly and easily, then were deposited with the rest of the metals they’d removed. Each stateroom had been basically left alone, with the exception of having all bedding, desks and tables removed. Mac had them stored and labeled with his personal property, and by some stroke of luck, they were the easiest crate to retrieve.

He gave Bryce the second cabin, nestled against the end of the ship. Between his door and the outer wall of their only bathroom, was an office-sized section with brackets in the floor and walls perfect for holding a desk and computer terminal. That area, he insisted, was to be Bryce’s personal space, since the other work areas were open and less private. Mac was accustomed to sharing every inch of space with shipmates; his new roommate was going to have to take it slower, having been used to an entire planet of privacy. Their rooms were identically outfitted. Bed frames snapped into place, with the wall acting as a headboard for each, awaiting mattresses and blankets. Closet doors were rehung in the far corners, providing storage in addition to the space still available for personalized furniture and seating in the large rooms. By the time they had the beds back up, both men were exhausted.

“Not bad for a half a day’s work, eh?” Mac reached up and wiped sweat from his forehead, nodding at the transformation.

“We haven’t plumbed the shower yet.” Bryce set his wrench down and nodded toward the bathroom. Long strands of loose hair were plastered to his sweat-soaked face, but his eyes were bright with willingness.

Mac shook his head. “There’s enough reserves to get us cleaned up. As much as I want that shower, it can wait till tomorrow.”

Bryce nodded, glancing around the room. “I think you were right about this thing. It makes a pretty good home office.”

“Yeah, not too bad.” He could just hear Cassandra’s disapproving snort of disgust. “Let’s get cleaned up and get some bedding in those rooms before I fall asleep right here.”

Mac found a change of clothes and carried them into the bathroom. He checked the reserve levels, then set the shower accordingly and stepped into the fine mist. Moisture barely heavy enough to bead up on his smooth skin wafted over his head as he turned the knob that would add soap. Once, a long time ago, he’d taken R&R on Earth and splurged on a real shower, complete with a thick spray of water, and soap that came in a tube, and ran in large, white globs down his body, over his legs, and into a round drain in the floor. It had been an indulgence, but well worth the full days’ pay it cost. Plumbing this bathroom was going to be top priority, first thing tomorrow.

When he stepped out of the shower, toweling off was merely a formality. He pulled on the clean clothes, stuffed the dirty ones into the chute that would suck them over to the cleaning unit to the far left of the galley, and gave Bryce his turn in the bathroom. Some of the reports he’d heard discussed yesterday mentioned a natural hot spring not far from the complex, the perfect remedy for tired muscles. Trouble was, Mac’s muscles were just tired enough to keep him from wanting to trek very far for relief.

After Bryce’s shower, they headed to the complex to retrieve some bedding and locate all of the items he wanted to move into his new home. The colony was humming with activity and sprouting new areas as large, land roving vehicles were assembled and tested. A massive, open garage was being constructed to house the exploration machines and equipment to the north of the complex.

“Hey, how about some dinner? I’m starving.” Mac pointed toward the corridor leading to the mess hall, then anticipated his partner’s hesitation.”Listen, just stay close, and you’ll be fine. Okay?”

Bryce looked down the hall, then back to Mac and nodded slightly. “Yeah, okay.”

The mess hall was crowded, but there was an order to the madness. Lines formed to the left, where various foods were set out, moving down to a table holding several beverages. There were plenty of tables set up around the room, with diners coming and going often enough to ensure places to sit scattered all around. They filled two trays with mostly meats and greens, then Bryce pointed out the better of the two fermented brews one of the cooks had brought up from storage. Finding a relatively empty table wasn’t difficult, but avoiding the looks and questions shot to them from all around proved a bit more tricky.

Bryce was known by everyone, but only a handful were interested enough to ask him questions, most of which he politely answered with as little information as he could. Mac managed to steer most of the conversations other people started, and took over whenever necessary. Getting the kid into this crowd had been a major accomplishment. He wasn’t about to let the misplaced enthusiasm of thirty or more strangers ruin this step forward.

By the time they finished eating, even Mac was tired of the group. He led Bryce out of the mess hall and back down to the basement where he’d stored all of the things he considered personal. The large room had changed since that morning, grown more cluttered with crates and cartons and machinery, but the corner in the back was just as they had left it.

“We’ll get that galley back in shape tomorrow.” Mac glanced around at some of the crates while Bryce gathered up bedding and some clothes.

“I can cook. And if you liked that wine, I know how to make a couple of different beers.” Bryce stuffed some clothes into a sack, cheering up considerably now that they were away from the crowds. “I don’t mind, really. I’ve had to cook every day anyway.”

Mac laughed and shook his head. “Relax, we can take turns or something. I’m partial to quieter dining rooms, too.” One of the crates he was next to was open, so he glanced at the contents. “I didn’t come all this way for some peace and quiet just to eat every meal with three hundred people.”

“Yeah. I never realized how hard that would be.” Bryce stuffed a small computer into the bag holding his clothes and pushed some hair from his face. “Does it get easier, being around people all the time?”

“It will.” Mac smiled, then looked inside the crate again. “Are these books?” Stunned, he reached inside the box and retrieved a small, familiar looking case. He read the label, still disbelieving his eyes. “The complete works of Douchette.”

“Do you read?”

“Whenever I get the chance, which wasn’t often enough during the war.” Mac looked back inside the crate. “Talwin, Choff, The Philosophies of the Ages. Have you read these?” It was a gold mine, all the volumes Mac had wanted to read, but never had the chance to. They were old, but timeless works.

“They were something to do, but Five never wanted to discuss them very much.” Bryce slung his bag over one shoulder and shrugged. “He always said they were useless ramblings, not scientific studies.”

“Nothing that makes you think is useless.” Mac sighed, realizing just how many volumes were in the crate. Volume One of the philosopher Douchette was still in his hand. “Would you mind if I borrowed this?”

“No, help yourself.”

Mac used to love an hour of reading before falling asleep, but it was a luxury he could rarely afford during the war. On the trip out here, he’d gotten back into the habit, but had managed to finish off every volume he could find on board the Kensington three weeks before their arrival. Never in his wildest dreams had he considered the first colony to be so well stocked.

They returned to the shuttle shortly before sunset and got both beds put to rights quickly. Bryce assured him they could plumb the shower easily in the morning, then get the galley and clothes washing unit hooked up as well. By the time they had their next day planned out, they were both exhausted.

Mac went upstairs to secure the door and turn on some of the shuttle’s outdoor lights, just in case the early risers of the group forgot the placement of the huge ship beside their complex. They’d have to form some of the dirt a little better, make a wider walkway up the gangplank, then smooth out the slope as it went around the ship and get some of the dirt away from the small windows on the sleeping-side of their new home. Book still in hand, he returned to the living quarters and flipped off most of the interior lights. Bryce stepped out of the bathroom, looking for all the world to be asleep on his feet. It had been a busy day for both of them.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Mac held up the book, still intending to get one chapter read before he fell asleep himself.

Bryce nodded, then leaned against the wall and looked at the towel in his hands for a moment. “Listen, I wanted to . . . ” He sighed and met Mac’s gaze. “Thanks. For this.” Both hands gestured at the room. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re welcome.” Mac smiled.

“Well, good night.”

“Good night.” He waited until Bryce shut the door, then flipped off the last light and took the book into his room. Douchette was a philosopher ahead of his time who had died thirty years before Mac had ever heard of him; his thoughts on war and the fate of mankind had carried him through several moral conflicts. But tonight, the master couldn’t even carry him through an hour.

Mac woke with the book still on his chest. Judging by the stiffness in his back and neck, he hadn’t so much as rolled over all night. With a slight groan, he rolled onto his side and swung both legs off the bed. Sounds reached his ears, coming from the bathroom, as his bare feet hit the cold, metal floor. He was beginning to regret not having stayed up to get the galley working last night. If he couldn’t have a real shower this morning, a cup of coffee would have been nice.

He pulled on a clean pair of shorts and opened his door just as Bryce was coming out of the bathroom. “Hey.” Mac stretched, trying to pop his stiff back. His new deputy nodded, yawning, then leaned against the bathroom door and pushed long hair from his face. Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, he looked more tired than he had that night.

“Good morning.”

“Whoa, don’t take this wrong, but you don’t look so good.” Mac stepped closer, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t sleep much last night.” Bryce nodded, then pulled his hair back and tied it into a pony tail using a strip of leather he retrieved from his shirt pocket. “I had a headache.”

Mac studied his face for a moment. “We should probably take it slow today. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chance to work out like that myself.” He waited for Bryce to nod his agreement, then stepped over to the bathroom door. “I heard some people talking yesterday about a hot spring not far from here. Whaddaya say we go have a good soak this morning?”

That idea seemed to perk the younger man up immediately. “Okay, yeah.”

“Just give me a minute.” Mac walked into the bathroom and shut the door. If bathing in hot springs was anything like having a sauna, he knew it would be the solution to his stiff muscles. So wrapped up in his plans for a shower, Mac hadn’t even connected the luxury of a hot spring nearby until he’d heard so many of the colonists raving about the large pool on the other side of the hill.

Energized by the promise of a long soak in hot water, he hurried through his morning wash-up, found a clean pair of pants and tank top, then followed Bryce up the stairs and out their front door. The complex was buzzing with morning activity, including a trail of hot water seekers snaking their way behind the complex and over the rocky hill.

After rounding a massive boulder jutting out from the craggy ground, Mac felt a brief touch on his arm. He turned to find Bryce motioning for him to follow. They rounded the boulder, leaving the trail, and began a steep climb up the side of a rough rock wall. A few yards up, and the valley below became visible, with its large, L-shaped body of water its most prominent feature. Steam could be seen even from that distance, rising over the bright blue water and the many bathers within.

Curious but undaunted, Mac followed Bryce around the lip of the cliff, under a stony archway, and onto a small, perfectly flat plateau. In the center, surrounded by clumps of purple grass and fed by a small waterfall, was a hot spring.

“Your own private bath?” Mac grinned, gazing at the blue water. He should have realized Bryce would be uncomfortable around that many people, but his desire for a visit to the hot water had overridden those thoughts.

“This one has a waterfall, perfect for showering. And there are caves in these rocks,” Bryce gestured around the plateau. “It’s safe here.”

Whether he meant safe from the others or from some hidden danger, Mac didn’t know. Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting into that water! Bryce was already peeling off his clothes so Mac followed suit, then eased into the hot water slowly, savoring the feel of so much wetness all over his body. The blue water shimmered with color, almost luminous in the heat.

“Oh, man. This alone was worth six months in space.” Mac slid down onto a rock under the surface, resting against the flat stone. From that position, only his head and neck were above water, free to rest on the grassy edge as he leaned back.

Bryce stepped in on the opposite side of the moderately sized pool and found a rock of his own, adjusting his height so that he, too, could rest against the shore. “Is water really scarce in space? Five kept telling me how precious it was.”

Mac nodded, closing his eyes to relish the feel of the heat massaging tired muscles. “Earth had a crisis years and years ago, before I was born, and lost over half its fresh water. And in space, you have to mine ice from asteroids and some moons.” Mac sighed, wondering how safe it would be to fall asleep in this position. He could probably trust Bryce to pull him up if he went under, unless the kid fell asleep himself. “I’ve only read about these things, natural hot water springs like this.”

“Five said it…”

Mac looked up when Bryce’s voice trailed off and found him gazing at the waterfall. His eyebrows knitted together, then a moment later both hands came up and pushed the hair away from his face. It was a habit Mac was beginning to associate with the younger man’s uncertainty. “I’m sorry. I must sound like an idiot or something, always quoting that machine.” Bryce shook his head and quickly glanced at Mac, then down at the blue water, while his hands fingered a silver shape hanging from the end of a chain around his neck.

“No, you don’t.” Mac sat up straighter and found a rock he could grab with his toes for support while his arms floated freely under the surface.

“That computer was your teacher, and your companion, for a long time. Suddenly a bunch of strangers come down and turn him off without asking, and tell you it’s for your own good.” He shook his head and Bryce looked up. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know many people who could have handled this as well as you are.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m serious. This is only your third day, give it some time.”

Bryce nodded, then leaned back again, resting his head on the shore. “The waterfall is fed from the mountain, if you get too hot.”

Mac glanced at the gentle cascade of blue falling over smooth rocks. The steam where it entered the pool was thicker, wafting up in billowing clouds. With a great sigh, he leaned back again, nestled his neck into the soft grass and closed his eyes. Warm bubbles gurgled against his neck and shoulders, adding to the quiet sound of the slight breeze moving over the rocks above them. Now and again, laughter from far away drifted on the wind from the larger pool in the valley below them. He could see why Bryce preferred this spot, even without the crowd massing in the main pool. There was solitude here, the very peace and quiet he’d come all this way to find. A man could get lost in his thoughts in a place like this, surrounded by jagged rocks like ancient castle walls. There was no real reason to tell anyone else about Bryce’s private pool, what with the long, cumbersome trek up the cliff as the only access. Soon enough the colonists would be spreading out, exploring this new world and making both of them busy with the unenviable task of keeping them all in line. They’d need a place to unwind.

Mac had just decided each and every muscle in his entire body had died and gone to heaven, when he heard more splashing to his left. He turned and found Bryce standing in the pool, splashing the colder water of the falls over his face.

“You okay?” Mac sat up when he noticed Bryce swaying. Alarmed, he hurried the few yards to the younger man. “Hey!”

Bryce nodded. “I just got a little too hot, I think.”

Yeah, I think so.” Mac reached out and took Bryce by the shoulders, ignoring the man’s small reflex that tried to avoid physical contact, and moved him to the shore. “You’re tired and you haven’t eaten, just sit down.”

“I’ll be okay.” Bryce stopped resisting and let himself be helped out of the hot water and onto the grass.

Mac hurried to his pile of clothes, wrapped himself in a towel and brought one to the younger man. “Here, dry off and rest a minute. We’ll get you back down and get some breakfast.”

Bryce nodded again and took the towel, holding it to his face for a minute while Mac retrieved their clothes and began to get dressed.

“What does the M stand for?”

Zipping his pants, Mac looked up. Bryce was looking at the label sticking out of his towel. “Mac. Mac Brennan.”

Bryce looked thoughtful for a moment, then handed the cloth back to its owner. “Mac? Is that short for something?”

“Nope.” Mac shook his head, then pulled on his shirt and handed Bryce his clothes. “My father wasn’t very imaginative. He even named his other son the same thing, or so I was told.” Bryce stopped pulling on his pants and looked up, puzzled. Mac waved it off. “It’s a long story, better told over a few beers when we’re both good and bored. Are you feeling better?” There was still a look of exhaustion around his face, something that might improve with breakfast as long as it was taken far from the crowds.

“I think so.” Bryce stood in order to finish with his pants, then pulled his shirt on and took a deep breath. “We can get some fruit on the way down if we go this way.”

Nodding for him to lead the way, Mac followed his partner closely, keeping an eye on his steadiness. The stress was probably catching up to him, even with Mac’s efforts to make the invasion easier. Bryce showed him another way off the cliff, snaking back behind the large rock face and joining the main trail farther ahead. On the way, they found a grove of low growing shrubs brimming with the round, blue fruit he’d enjoyed the other day. After a quick lesson on how to identify ripeness and the proper method of removing the fruit from thorny branches, they managed to gather enough for a healthy breakfast.

When they got back to the shuttle, Mac left Bryce to prepare the fruit while he retrieved coffee and several bottles of water from the complex. By that afternoon, he vowed to have their new home completely plumbed for fresh water from the shower to the galley. They ate breakfast standing over the counter, and the food and rest seemed to help Bryce catch up to himself, but Mac wasn’t overly impressed with his color.

“Listen, why don’t you just work on your room and take it easy today, huh? Troy and some of the other Engineers tapped into the water lines this morning, they can give me a hand with the hookup.”

Bryce rubbed his forehead, then shrugged slightly. “I’m okay, it’s just a headache.”

“That’s a good enough reason for me.” Mac finished his water and nodded to the staircase. “Let’s get your stuff over here and you can do what you want with it.”

He grabbed a set of anti-gravity cushion handles and led the way back upstairs. The complex was busy as usual, with people still moving their own belongings around, maneuvering for the best place to call their own. It took a little dodging, but they made it to the basement without too many stops. Using the handles made moving large, heavy crates a simple matter of pushing them in the direction you wanted to go. Everything Bryce considered his fit easily into an emptied machine crate, with the exception of a chair made out of a huge tree branch that required a second trip. Once they got his things into the upper level of the shuttle, Mac showed him how to remove the access panel in the floor so they could lower the crate and chair through using the thick cushion of air the handles created.

Bryce only agreed to stay there and work on his own unpacking after Mac agreed that making lunch and dinner would be payment for his inactivity. With the moving handles attached to each of his own crates, Mac had no trouble at all bringing his own belongings over and getting them situated inside the shuttle, but he left the majority on the upper level for the time being. After carting everything inside, he took some tools and joined a few of the engineers still working on adding taps to the fresh water supply. With a little help and some borrowed fittings, he had the Aloft’s sanitary unit and galley hooked up in less than an hour.

By the time he realized how hungry he was, Bryce had lunch prepared.

“Perfect timing, I’m starved.” Mac came down the stairs and into the galley, sniffing the plate of meats and cheese appreciatively.

“I can get the refrigeration unit stocked tomorrow.” Bryce set some breads on the platter, then picked up a sandwich he’d already made and walked to the table, now that they had one. “This is the perfect time of year for the crops, they’re just ripening.”

Mac nodded, making himself a sandwich.

“And the nuts that beer is made of should be ready in a few weeks, if you liked that.” He took a drink from a large glass of water while Mac poured one of his own. “I should try and find the cows, I don’t know if the others have found them yet. They went wild a long time ago, but I can usually find them.”

“Whoa, hold on.” Mac carried his lunch to the table and sat down opposite his roommate. “There’s plenty of time for all of that. We’re not going to starve.” It suddenly dawned on him that they’d eaten all of the meats from yesterday. “Where did you get this?”

Bryce looked down at his food and his voice got quieter for a moment. “I had to go over there.”

Mac knew instantly what he meant by ‘over there’ and nodded at the younger man’s show of courage.

“There’s a side door, right next to the big ovens. I went in that way.” He shrugged, “I don’t think they missed any of it.”

“Nah, that’s what it’s there for. These colonist are very sharing, that’s how they operate. We can stock up from what they have stored, just to get us going. After all, what they’re dipping into was yours as well as what they brought.” Mac bit into his sandwich, savoring the taste of real meat and cheese. Processed, hormone enhanced beef had an after-taste that no science had yet managed to eradicate to his satisfaction. This was another plus to his new life: real food! The cheese was aged, with a strong, robust flavor that complimented the meat perfectly, blending with its juices instead of overpowering them. He’d added a thick slice of tomato and a green, leafy vegetable that had the look and feel of lettuce, but tasted spicy.

Bryce had finished his sandwich and was leaning back in the chair, holding his half empty glass of water in one hand and rubbing his temples with the fingers of the other. “Those big vehicles they’re putting together . . . Are they going to use them to start exploring soon?”

Mac swallowed the last bite of the sandwich and nodded while he wiped his hands on a small towel. “It’ll take them another week or more to get everything ready, but yes, they’ll be exploring soon. I have a mapping utility in the control center upstairs, so we can keep tabs on what they find.”

Bryce nodded, looking down at the table. “They’re going to look for the others, aren’t they?”

With a quiet sigh, Mac sat forward, resting both arms on the table. The full extent of what those ten years of isolation must have been like were clearly displayed on the younger man’s face, showing through his attempts to hide them. “If there’s anyone out there to find, I’m sure someone will, eventually.” Bryce’s jaw clenched as he stared at the table, refusing to meet Mac’s gaze. His own wish to find the answers to this mystery were outweighed by the pain apparent on the kid’s face. “Bryce, in all that time, did you ever see anything, anything at all, that made you think there was anyone around?”

“No.” Bryce glanced up and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“And you never traveled, never left the complex for a few weeks to explore?”

Another shake of his head, this time more determined and quick. “No. It was too dangerous. Five said that . . . ” His voice trailed off as he looked away.

“So, you don’t know anything about them leaving? When, or why they did?”

“No. But they must have left.” Bryce’s eyebrows creased and his face grew puzzled. “They had to have left, it’s the only explanation.” He looked up suddenly, meeting Mac’s gaze with a look of anger and pain. “But why? Why would they? Everything they had is still here! Everything they needed, everything they built. It’s all still here!” He swallowed and looked away, pushing some hair from his face.

“Bryce…” Mac leaned closer, keeping his voice quiet in the hope that his new friend would calm down. “It’s possible they had to leave because of Five.”

“No, they left me.” Bryce shook his head, but looked helplessly at Mac. “They could have turned Five off just like you did, but they left. They left me.”

“Listen to me, they didn’t leave you. Whatever the reason, it couldn’t have been personal, not like that.” He felt so helpless. No one should ever be left alone like this. “We don’t even know what happened. So far we’re all guessing, and it’s getting us nowhere.”

Bryce closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath, nodding once. When he opened them again, he looked tired. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get angry. I just–I don’t understand, that’s all. I’ve never understood why.”

Mac sighed. He could no more guarantee they’d find the truth than he could fly through solid rock. Even if they did, the reasons for Bryce’s memory loss could turn out to be fatal. What if the truth couldn’t be handled? Where Lise and the others saw a puzzle with a piece they could make fit, Mac saw a war-wound. A near fatal hit that needed time, and protection, to heal.

“I wish I could promise you we’ll find all the answers, but I can’t.”

Bryce shook his head slowly. “It’s okay. You didn’t come down here to solve someone else’s problems.” He shrugged very slightly and looked up.

Mac swallowed, fighting the tightening of his jaw muscles at the memory of his meeting the other night. “And you didn’t wake up three days ago and expect several hundred invaders, but you’re adapting. It’s what we humans do.” He smiled and picked up the plates. “Now, let’s concentrate on getting this place unpacked, and let the rest worry about itself.”

With the galley now plumbed for water from outside, Bryce was able to wash their lunch dishes in the double sink while Mac drained the last of the fuel into the storage batteries. Someday, generations from now, the people living on Oblivion would be using new forms of energy as the solar and nuclear batteries brought down during colonization finally died out. But for his lifespan, Mac would never have to worry about that kind of adaptation. After a lifetime spent in space, where your very survival depended on man-made structures and machines, he wasn’t sure he could ever make that big of an adjustment.

Back downstairs, Bryce’s mood had brightened considerably. He helped Mac unload the furniture and get it into place in the temporarily crowded living quarters. Two couches formed a cozy seating area with a low, square table in the end of the U they formed. Off to one side, resting against the outside wall of Mac’s room, was the chair Bryce had brought, fashioned out of the spoon-branch from a tree with four carved legs that set the chair low to the ground. Mac had a few more tables and lamps, adding to the overhead lighting that was kept slightly dimmed in order for the computer panels in the room to be easily seen.

Opposite their seating area was a work table large enough for both of them, with matching chairs Mac had purchased years ago, carved out of a soft wood grown on one of the forested orbital stations ringing Mars. Their intricate carvings and rich, red color belied their durability and strength. They had two spare tables, perfect for desks, that Mac placed in the area just outside Bryce’s room, making him a semi-private office. There was a terminal outlet there, giving the younger man both access to the shuttle’s entire system and his own private data storage and drive space.

The dining room table was another of Mac’s favorite purchases, one he’d kept in storage for years, waiting for the right place to put it. Large enough to seat six, with a brushed metal top, it sat perfectly in the dining area opposite the counter bordering the galley. At the other end of the kitchen area, part of the counter formed a bar with three built-in seats jutting out from the floor.

The beds in each room were the only things fixed to the floor, but they left plenty of room for small tables, dressers, storage units and a comfortable chair in each one. Mac admired the wood Bryce’s furniture was carved from, but when asked, he couldn’t remember where they had come from or who had made them. There was a pattern carved on each of the pieces that matched a necklace he wore, but he had no clear memory of the origins of the jewelry, either.

“I’ve always had it.” Bryce shrugged, holding the silver metal between two fingers. “I think it was given to me, because I can remember someone’s voice, an older man’s I think, telling me never to take it off.”

Mac nodded, studying the piece. It was intricately fashioned out of a silver metal, shaped in a pattern that looked as if two snakes were eating each other’s tails. “I think I’ve seen this pattern before.” He looked at the carved drawers and desk, where a very similar pattern was etched. “It was in a book I was reading, about ancient battle strategies.” He shook his head, able to recall only the image, not the name. “I can’t think of what it’s called, though.”

They finished unloading all the large furniture and shelves just before sunset. As badly as he wanted to go outside and enjoy the sight, Mac’s desire for a long, indulgent shower won over. Bryce found what he said he’d need to make dinner, so Mac gave in to his desire, peeling off his clothes before he was even in the bathroom.

To accommodate the burden of a long space voyage, the Aloft was fitted with a spacious sanitary unit, sporting a standard-sized shower with room to move around in. Mac always found that ridiculous, since nowhere is water rationed and recycled more studiously than during a long space exploration. But now, the logic behind the design no longer mattered. He had water!

Just because he could, Mac turned on the taps before stepping inside, and adjusted the temperature to suit his needs. Blue water, thick and wet, shot out of a shower head previously designed to mist the precious liquid. After a few adjustments to the pressure, Mac stepped inside and positioned himself so the spray slammed into the top of his head, sending water cascading down his entire body. Rivers of bright blue ran down his smooth chest, over his stomach, then parted to race down both muscular legs. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring at the sight of so much water running over him, and he didn’t care. It was the most incredible sensation he’d ever known, right now on an even par with sex.

After some time standing there watching the water run over his legs and off his feet, Mac turned around and let the spray hit him between the shoulders to massage out some residual stiffness. He saw what looked like a small rock on the corner shelf. It was bubbling as the water hit it, sending a white, pleasant-smelling foam down the side of the shower. He reached out and picked up the rock, feeling the smooth, soapy surface.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Cautiously at first, Mac rubbed the rough-looking stone over his arm and watched the soft lather develop quickly and easily. The rock was soft on his skin and smelled clean and fresh, but more importantly, the soapy foam ran down his bare skin with an almost sensual softness, just like the kind he’d used that time back on Earth.

By the time he reluctantly ended the experience, Mac was quite sure he’d just taken the longest shower of his entire life. Only the promise of many more to come gave him the strength of will needed to turn the water off and get himself toweled dry. When he came out of the bathroom, dressed in his towel, his nose picked up a delectable scent. Bryce was still in the galley, stirring something in a large pot over the heating unit, so he went into his room to put some clothes on. He hadn’t fully unpacked everything, but a comfortable pair of loose pants and one of his old military shirts were easily found.

When he came back out, two places were set at opposite sides of the dining room table.

“Hey, what smells so good?” Mac sampled the air again appreciatively.

Bryce carried a large bowl to the table and shrugged. “Just soup. None of this stuff really has a name or anything.” He returned to the galley and pulled a large pitcher of water from the refrigeration unit, carrying that to the table before he sat down. “I don’t think anyone ever named the food. Either that, or Five never told me what it was.”

Mac filled his bowl with the thick soup and felt his stomach rumble. “What’s in a name, anyway, when something smells this good?” The meal consisted of a dark meat with the same consistency of the beef from lunch, but with a spicier, almost hot taste to it. Complimenting the meat were several different legumes of various shapes and colors, and small, red potatoes.

“I guess when you have no one to tell, names are pretty useless.” Bryce filled his own bowl only half way, then poured a large glass of water.

“But I can just see myself trying to explain what everything is without being able to call it something.”

Mac nearly laughed as he swallowed a mouthful of the succulent meal. “I guess that could be confusing. You’ll just have to name things, then. Or, if you left them to it, I’m sure the colonists could come up with names for just about everything they find.”

“The soap, did you find that?”

The complete change in subject took Mac a second to register. “Oh, yeah, I did.”

“I forgot to tell you what it was.” Bryce’s eyebrows arched apologetically. “I know it just looks like a rock, but it’s the best soap around.”

“Hey, I could have rubbed myself with sand in there and not cared.” Mac smiled with the memory of all that water, running over his body. “You don’t know what a luxury that is.”

Bryce laughed shortly, shaking his head. “I believe you, now.”

Okay, so maybe he had taken a very long time in the shower, but he could be forgiven for indulging. One day soon, he was sure, it would all be second nature. Hot springs to soak in anytime you wanted, a shower with as much running water and soap as you could stand, and some of the best food he’d ever tasted, all right there for the asking. It was a paradise.

So why had all of Bryce’s people left it?

Mac helped himself to a second bowl of soup and noticed Bryce hadn’t eaten very much. He still looked tired and a little pale, and was gazing into his water glass with a vacant look. “Are you feeling okay?”

Bryce shook himself a little and looked up. “Yeah, I’m fine.” One hand came up to move some hair from front to back. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Things are catching up.”

“I’m sure they are.” Most people Mac knew would have cracked under these conditions; this kid just got tired. “Leave those, I’ll take care of it.” He held out a hand to prevent Bryce from clearing the dishes.

Reluctantly, he stepped back from the table and nodded. “I think I’m gonna turn in, then, if you don’t mind.”

“No, that’s a good idea.” Mac reached for his water and glanced around their new living room. “I’m pretty beat myself, actually. I’ll try to keep it down out here.”

Bryce stopped at the bathroom door and turned around. “That’s okay. I mean . . . ” He looked away for a moment as if trying to find the right words. “I don’t mind. I kinda like hearing someone else making noise. You know?”

Mac smiled a little, understanding what he meant. “Yeah, I think I do.” The silence of space could never be as quiet as the sound of being alone.

He waited until his partner was in the bathroom, then gathered up the dishes and washed them, again enjoying the use of both sinks and abundant running water. Even the sound of it was soothing as it poured from the nozzle into the metal sink. One of the ships he’d been stationed on had tried to use recorded sounds of running water in the officer’s lounge to instill a sense of peace and calm to the off-duty fighter pilots. All it had accomplished was an increased use of the urinals and several trips to the med lab for bladder infections, but the commanders had meant well.

Mac cleaned up, stored the leftover soup, then checked the shuttle over before calling it a night himself. Aware of Bryce’s new-found security, he tried not to be completely silent in his round of the doors and monitors. After a quick wash in the bathroom, he turned off the last light and went into his room, pushing past the unopened boxes till he reached the bed. A small lamp and night table were set up and working, so he turned off the bright overhead light, took off everything but his boxers, and climbed gratefully into bed with the book he’d wanted to read last night.

The power cell on the handheld unit came to life without hesitation, displaying the book’s contents and page numbers. Mac set his pillow against the wall that served as a headboard and leaned back, scanning the chapter titles. He flipped the display to page one of the first chapter and began to read Douchette’s views on the evolution of thought.

Mac was two chapters in when he heard the shout.

“No!”

He tossed the book aside and was off the bed in a flash. “Bryce?”

“They’re coming!”

“Bryce!” Mac burst into the room and found the younger man sitting up in bed, staring at him wide-eyed for an instant. “Are you all right?”

Bryce nodded quickly and leaned forward, running a shaking hand over his hair. “I’m sorry, it was just a nightmare.”

Mac sighed, giving his heart time to slow down as the adrenaline peaked. “It sounded pretty serious.” The kid glanced up and shook his head a little, smiling apologetically. He was very pale.

“I don’t even remember it.” Bryce shrugged, then coughed.

“You don’t look too good.” Mac reached out and put a hand on Bryce’s forehead.

Startled, he pulled back. “I’m fine.” He started to say more, but another round of coughs stopped him.

“You’re burning up.” Mac put a hand on Bryce’s shoulder, ignoring his attempts to flinch away, then placed a hand on the fevered head again.

“Damn, I should have seen this sooner.”

“It’s nothing.” Bryce’s voice was losing some volume. A shiver coursed over him and he cleared his throat.

“It’s something.” Mac straightened up. “I’m going to call over to Dr. Weller, then get you to the med lab.” He went back into his room for some pants.

“No, I’m fine.”

His pants and a shirt were draped over one of the unpacked boxes. “Bryce, you’re running a fever. I should have seen this coming. It’s common when you haven’t been exposed to anything in ten years or more.” He fastened the pants as he walked back to the other room.

Bryce was still on the bed, hugging the blanket up to his shoulders as he shivered, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you will. Once we get you over to the complex and let the doctor have a look at you.” It was just going to add to the stress of being sick, forcing Bryce back over there among all those strangers. At least the majority of them would be asleep by now. “I’ll be right back.” Ignoring Bryce’s quiet protests, Mac went into the hall, then maneuvered his way around the mess of crates and stacks of things still waiting to be put away, until he reached the large bank of computer terminals near the workbench. It took only minutes to find someone awake at the complex’s main communications section who could alert Lise of their impending arrival.
When he returned to Bryce’s room, he found a pair of pants on the floor near the chair.

“I’m all right. It’s just a cold or something.” Bryce sighed, swaying slightly on the bed.

“Yes, I’m sure it is.” Mac reached out for the blanket he was clutching and pulled it away gently. “But your body hasn’t had a cold in a long time, has it?” Reluctantly, the blanket was let go and Bryce reached out for the pants. “I’m sure, thanks to that, you’ll react well to some antibiotics and get over this in no time.”

With the pants on, Bryce reached for the blanket again and Mac helped wrap it around his shoulders. Since he’d been sleeping in shorts and a shirt, that should be warm enough for the brief walk from the shuttle to the complex. He took him by the arms and helped him upstairs, feeling only a slight resistance now to being touched. But when the door slid open to the clear night air, the young man froze.

“It’s okay, we’ll be there in a minute.” Even in the artificial lights, Mac could see Bryce’s face drain of all color. He put an arm around his friend and hurried them both down the ramp and across the grounds to the side door. Bryce nearly collapsed when they entered the hall.

“Brennan, what’s the matter?” Lise was there, rushing down the corridor to meet them.

“He has a fever, chills, a slight cough.” Mac nodded for her to walk ahead and lead them to the med lab instead of taking Bryce’s other arm. “I should have seen this sooner.”

They entered the medical lab and Lise pointed to a side exam room. “Of course, I wasn’t even thinking. We’ve exposed him to things he hasn’t been around in a long time. Even without any of us experiencing symptoms right now.”

Mac helped Bryce onto the exam table, but as he straightened up, the younger man grabbed his shirt. “I’m not sick, I’ll be fine.”

“Bryce, just let her check you out, okay?” There was a flash of fear in those lavender eyes that knotted Mac’s stomach. “I’ll be right out there.”

The hand clutching his shirt let go, and Mac allowed Lise to usher him out of the room and into the main laboratory area.

“He’ll be fine.”

Mac turned to find Ben standing at the door, Rob Eckland beside him. “Yeah.” He stepped closer to the doorway and nodded at
Rob, feeling his jaw muscles tighten. “He’ll be fine.”

“Has he said anything yet?”

“Rob, this kid’s only been with Brennan for two days, give it time, for Christ’s sake.”

Mac looked from Ben to Rob, trying to unclench his jaw. “If Bryce has anything to tell me that needs sharing, I’ll let you know. Anything else we talk about is between him and me.”

“He’s not your little kid brother, Brennan. We have a right to know what the hell happened here.” Rob shot an angry look over Mac’s shoulder.

“He was here, so he knows. One way or the other. How do you know it wasn’t him who encrypted all that data? He could have even forged the medical records, making us fall for that amnesia bit.”

Anger flared through Mac’s entire body, but he held it in check with practiced skill, letting his voice take on an edge. “Whatever happened to them, it hasn’t happened to any of you. I should think you have more important things on your mind now that you’re here.”

“Yet. Hasn’t happened yet.” Rob made sure both men heard the distinction.

“Rob, there could be a thousand explanations for the disappearance of the first colony. We’ve been over this already.” Ben quietly tried to inject some reason.

“The answer is right in front of us, and you two refuse to see it!” Rob made little attempt to control the volume of his voice in the quiet room.

“We’re scientists, all of us, with one exception. It’s our job to investigate the unknown and use any means available to find the answers. This planet, whether you want to call it Delta 9 or Oblivion, belongs to us. We have a responsibility to the people who sent us here, and the people who might come after us, to find out all we can.”

Mac’s control did an immediate about-face. “You people make me sick!” Though his voice was under some control, his anger came shining through. “You preach about being concerned with the preservation of humanity and all other life forms you happen upon, pride yourselves on discovery and education, and yet you treat everything like it’s some kind of laboratory for you to play with and experiment on.”

“Brennan…”

“No,” Mac shook off Ben’s restraining hand and held up an accusing finger. “You came here to play scientist and discover new things. That’s fine. But you’re forgetting that Bryce isn’t one of the alien things you found on this new world. He just happend to be here when you came down. You think you get to play around with everything to your heart’s content. Well, I’ve got news for you, Eckland, he’s not a mystery for you to solve or a puzzle piece you can try to make fit. He’s one of us! And if he needs a big brother to look out for his interests, then he’s got one.”

“He’s not one of us, Brennan, any more than you are.”

Incredulous, Mac rolled his eyes, trying to find some hint of sanity in the room. “So you think that somehow gives you power? Some kind of right to do whatever you deem appropriate in the name of almighty science?”

“He has a duty, to us and the people he came here with. Hiding behind whatever the hell’s keeping him from remembering isn’t a good enough excuse!”

“That’s pretty cold, Eckland. Why don’t you put yourself in his place for just a minute? I bet you can’t even imagine, for one instant, what it must feel like. You can’t, can you?” Mac paused, daring Rob to answer. “Well, I can.”

“Stop this.” Ben stepped between the two men, glaring first at Rob, then at Mac. “We’ve had this discussion before, and I’m not changing my mind about it. Rob, we all agreed to leave this issue alone for now.”

“For now.” Rob shot a look of finality at Mac, then turned and stormed down the hallway.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Brennan.” Ben sighed, shaking his head. “We found some pretty strange things, and the tension is running a little high tonight.”

“Strange things?”

“Yes, in the south wing we– ”

“Excuse me,” Lise stepped out of the exam room and marched to the two men. “If you two are quite finished, I have a patient who needs some rest.” She gave them both a disapproving stare. “We’re both tired of listening to you men argue.”

Mac quickly glanced back at the room, with its heavy curtain drawn. He’d tried to keep his voice down, but Rob had made no such effort. Even whispering, in that room sounds were sure to have traveled. The last thing he wanted to do was add to Bryce’s fear of these people, but right now he couldn’t help feeling he shouldn’t leave the kid alone around them.

“How is he?”

“He has the flu.” Lise sighed, shoving a diagnostic unit into her pocket.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Ben nodded into the room. “Brennan, if you have a few minutes, I’d like to show you something in the south wing’s zoology lab.”

“Yeah, okay.” Mac agreed for the sake of getting the commander to leave, then turned back to Lise. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yes, he will. Bryce hasn’t been exposed to the average viruses and germs that plague us all in a long time, though he has had them in the past. His body remembers the influenza virus and what to do about it.” She sighed, then smiled reassuringly. “He needs rest and some antibiotics to help bolster his immune system. I’ll be happier when that fever goes down, but I don’t see any cause for worry.”

“Good. That’s good.” Mac felt the anger wash out of his body, replaced by a large sense of relief. “I should have seen this earlier, but I thought it was just all this stress catching up.”

“He appears to be adjusting pretty well. How is he taking this new friendship with you?”

“Better than I thought he might. It helps to be away from the crowds, to have time to adjust to it all.”

“Has he said anything? Does he talk to you about the others?”

Mac stared at her, disbelieving. “You’re still on Eckland’s side, aren’t you?”

“No, I just–”

“I used to think you were one of the good guys, Lise.” He’d always felt doctors were the last of them, the knights in white who held life as sacred above all else.

“Don’t, Mac. You know I don’t want that any more than you do.” Lise lowered her voice, shooting a glance over Mac’s shoulder. “We all know why you took him on, it’s just hard to be patient.”

Mac shook his head, puzzled. “You all know what?”

“We know you, Mac. Some of us, anyway. Enough to know that keeping Bryce with you certainly isn’t sexual, and that leaves only one other conclusion. And it makes sense, befriending him like this. I’m sure in time it will work and some of his memory will come back as he begins to trust–”

“Wait a minute.” Mac raised both hands, then for a moment couldn’t find the words to express his irritation. “What makes you think there are only two possible reasons for my wanting this kid as a deputy? What about friendship? What about a sense of big-brotherly protection? What about seeing a young, scared kid who has no idea what it’s like to be around other humans, who needed a friend on his side?”

Lise sighed and took a pose Mac knew all too well. He hated condescension.

“Look, you people gave me a job to do down here, and I have every intention of doing that job right. What you see as some subject you can dig into and mess around with, I see as a human being. Someone with more knowledge about this place than any of us. I see a young man who’s been the victim of some pretty lousy circumstances, who has information, talent and skills that I’d be a fool to ignore.” Lise’s attitude wasn’t changing, and Mac could feel his frustration level bubbling up. His voice darkened and grew more quiet. “And if you think, for one minute, I’m going to let you or your buddies try to get inside his head and pry loose whatever demons he’s managed to lock up, you’d better think again.”

“I told you, I don’t agree with that method.” Lise looked away, her face reddening slightly. “I’m ashamed to admit I ever thought of it in the first place. It goes against everything I stand for as a doctor. In fact, just seeing people here again might stimulate his memories over the next few weeks.”

Mac took a deep breath, trying to force his anger back down. He hoped Bryce couldn’t hear them from behind the heavy curtain. Maybe he was even sleeping now?

“I’m sorry, Mac. I had no right to assume anything without speaking to you about it. It’s just . . .I feel so helpless right now. Three hundred people came here counting on a new life, and all we found for them was a ghost town.” She looked past Mac toward the exam room. “That first night I let it all get to me and almost became the thing we all fear most. And, as much as I would still like to know what happened, none of us has any right to sacrifice a life to find the answers.”

Mac swallowed, accepting her apology. “Can I talk to him?”

“Yes.” Lise took a deep breath and nodded. “He seems very uncomfortable here, emotionally. I can’t say that I blame him.” They began walking toward the curtained room. “Just give him a few hours to rest, let me see if I can get that fever down, then you can take him back. I’m sure he’ll be much more comfortable away from here.”

The curtain pulled back in response to their approach, revealing an exam table and two walls of medical instruments. Bryce was on the bed, still wrapped in his blanket, with a monitor attached to his left forearm, feeding him intravenous fluids. He was still pale, and his hair was damp with sweat.

“I told you this wouldn’t be all that bad, huh?” Mac smiled down at his friend, hoping he hadn’t been able to hear what taken place.

“Can we go back now?” Bryce turned to Mac, his voice barely a whisper, but made no move to sit up.

“Listen, I want you to relax here for a few hours, okay? I have to go talk to the commander about some things, then we’ll go back.”

“You could at least rest here until morning,” Lise added.

Bryce sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He seemed about to argue, then nodded. “Okay.”

Mac turned to Lise. “I have to go meet Ben in the zoology lab, can you…?”

“I’ll stay right here.” Lise smiled and patted Mac’s arm. “Trust me, he’ll be fine.”

He didn’t, really, but he’d have to. At least for now. Lise had, after all, admitted her mistake. She could earn a second chance, but she had some proving to do. “I don’t want Rob anywhere near him.”

“Don’t worry, Mac. It’s after midnight, no one else even knows you two are here, and they wouldn’t care if they did. It’s just Eckland doing all the complaining right now, and he’s in the south wing with Ben.”

Mac nodded once, then quietly left the med lab after one last look at Bryce. He was sleeping, somewhat uneasily, but might not even know Mac wasn’t right there until he got back. The south wing zoology lab was quite a walk, through the west wing he was in, down the large corridor that spanned the entire main building, then into the adjacent section and all the way to the end. The complex was quiet, with only every third corridor light on for the night. Now and again, he passed a room with people still busily working on something they’d found or needed to assemble, quiet voices discussing this or that possibility or placement.

When he arrived at his destination, he found Rob and Ben inside the main holding area, conferring with their head veterinarian, Katherine Miller. She was the first to see him come inside.

“Brennan, nice job planting that shuttle yesterday.” Katherine smiled, her eyes sparkling in the low lights. “I’m still shaking dust out of my hair.”

Mac grinned and shrugged. “Hey, I warned everyone. Besides, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a real shower now. Does wonders for the dust.”

“So does that hot spring.” She winked and let her smile take over her face.

He’d always liked her, at least in the six months since they met. Very professional around her charges, checking the embryonic cattle and other imported animals almost hourly during the long flight, but they’d found occasion to enjoy each other’s company now and again.

“Mac, how’s Bryce?”

“He’s fine, Ben. Just the flu.” Mac shot a glance at Rob, but the man said nothing. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

“It’s over here.” Katherine motioned to the far wall and led the way. “I was having these tables and crates moved, so I could get this lab set up, when we found them.”

Mac followed her and Ben to the end of the laboratory, then peered over the table. Deep in the titanium wall, three ragged gashes ripped through the metal in yard long marks.

“Those aren’t the only ones.” Ben pointed to another wall. “We found two more over there, then some scrape marks in the floor near the exit.”

“So, they brought something in here that didn’t want to stay.” Mac shrugged. “Isn’t that what this lab is for?”

Katherine inhaled deeply, then let it out. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to explain here. This lab would have been used, and will be used, to study native animals.”

“Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to gouge out the metal walls and floor. And so far, we can’t find anything in the records big enough to inflict this kind of damage.” Ben gestured around the room. “And over there, the computer terminal has been ripped into as well.”

Mac shook his head and tried hard not to roll his eyes. Instead, he rubbed them tiredly. “Ben, you know as well as I do those records are incomplete.” A sudden thought shot through him and he looked up, relaxing when he found Rob still in the room with them. “Look, we’ve only been here for three days.” He paused, glaring at Rob, but got no rebuttal. “So far so good, right? Now, if Katherine isn’t overly concerned about this, then I don’t see any reason for anyone else to be.” Mac looked at her and received a smile and a nod. “She’s the expert when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you, Ben, this could have been caused by anything. Even the most docile animal, when frightened, is capable of tremendous acts of violence.”

Ben nodded and looked at Rob. “Have you taken samples of the metal yet?”

Mac held up a hand, interrupting Eckland’s response. “Listen, it’s late. I’m going to get some sleep.” He didn’t wait for anyone’s reaction.

During the long trek back to the med lab, Mac tried not to think about the marks. Tried not to think about what kind of animal could gouge large chunks out of titanium walls. There were a few things he could remember, from childhood horror stories, capable of that kind of destruction. But that was fiction. He preferred philosophy.

Besides, the only thing Mac Brennan ever really feared, was Man.

Dialog tags (or dialogue tags if you prefer, I don’t) are considered invisible – that is, if they’re not overused or abused or made to appear ridiculous. And by that I mean, we’re told the reader’s eye seemlessly flys over the term: he said. as if it weren’t even there. Dialog tags keep track of who’s speaking, especially if you have several characters conversing in the same scene. “Stop doing that,” John said. “No,” Amy replied. “Just do what you’re told,” Felicity ordered.Yeah, lame but you get the point. Trouble is — and I’m really curious if anyone’s noticed yet — I was “raised” never to use them. Back in High School, the one teacher who influenced me the most in writing and truly set me on the path to becoming a published author (by constantly telling me in no uncertain terms that one day I would be a published author) taught me that writing He Said, She Said etc was lazy, unimaginative and boring. One of our excercises was to write fiction with dialog and never once use a tag.  Although one could argue that placing action of the speaker directly after the dialog attributed to him or her is a form of tagging.

I still have trouble with them. Yes, they should be used. Yes, when used properly and not obused to a ridiculous extent, they’re invisible. Yes, it’s good to stick with rules, especially if you’re just starting out. Like they say, you have to know the rules before you can break them.

No, I’m still not comfortable with Said.

I’m forcing myself to use it, to try and pepper my dialog with a few Saids here and there, but it still takes effort and feels unnatural. If the dialog is between two people, and you’re punctuating properly and not putting excessive action between things spoken, the reader can usually keep up and figure out who just said what.  But there are times, I admit, that it gets complicated – and that’s when dialog tags come in handy.

In the sequel I’m penning now, I’m dealing with 5 major players that rarely share the spotlight, but when they do, I find it totally necessary to use dialog tags in order to keep things straight. (and it’s driving me nuts – never again will I write this many characters in one novel who get speaking roles!)

It’s just hard to go against what I came to believe was the tide, and I’m pretty sure it’s just Me. It’s a quirk of how I write, and it’s going to be with me till the day I die. While I’m trying harder to plug some in my writing, it’s still my nature to do what Mrs. Wright taught me. Some argue it’s wrong, some argue it’s meaningless, and I’m betting at least two people in the comments section of this post will instruct me as to proper usage of dialog tags. 🙂

I know all about them. Honestly, I do.

I’m also fully aware of writing styles, and this — quite frankly — is one of mine. Right or wrong, it’s who I am.

But I’m wondering . . . and you can lie if you want . . . Until I mentioned it just now, had you noticed there wasn’t one He Said in those two chapters? We could play a game, and try to spot one He Said in the entire 240k novel – but that’d be kinda boring 😀

I’ve decided not to trunicate the chapter this time – it’s when you click to Read More that you get the squished margins, thanks to this template, and I love this template too much to switch. Black is so very slimming, yanno.

So here’s Chapter 2 – what I call the Emo Character (I feel sick) Just keep in mind this was me 10 years ago. We all grow and mature as writers!! 😀 (this is when I also admit that, in retrospect, the character from chapter 1 was always easier for me to write) And I’m timestamping this post, because as you read this – if you read this in the morning – I’m sleeping in! I have Friday off this week, and must write like a madwoman in order to get ready for the Penman Shipwreck in January.

So here ya go: When the Stars Walk Backwards, Chapter 2

It was a nightmare.

Somewhere along the line, this vision had gotten out of control. It used to be something he longed for, even dreamed about. One of those fantasies that you could replay in your mind, and revisit for comfort. Only this time it was real, and it was out of his control.

They were coming.

Strangers, and lots of them. That longing for rescue, even human contact, had changed to fear of the unknown. They wouldn’t be landing to take him away, and it was doubtful they’d be landing to secure his safety. It was even more remote to dream these strange people would accept the truth he had to present them.

Such as it was.

“So what the hell am I going to tell them?” Bryce ran a hand through his long hair for the tenth time in the past five minutes. He was fully aware his hands were shaking, but somehow the motion seemed to help. The blip on his screen was getting larger as the shuttle entered the atmosphere half a world away.

Five wasn’t being much help, either.

“You simply tell them the truth,” the computer replied with it’s usual calmness.

“I don’t know the truth!” God, some days this machine could be exasperating. Bryce knew Five had been aware of the approaching ship for days and had kept it from him, but they hadn’t discussed that yet. As long as the new arrivals were in space, the computer had the advantage. And he couldn’t afford to piss it off. “What am I going to say when they ask?” Bryce began to pace again in front of the screen, glancing at the display on each pass. The shuttle would land in front of his buildings in less than an hour at this rate.

“All you have to do is explain to them why you don’t know. I sent the data. If they’re the scientists they’re supposed to be, I’m sure they’ve understood it all by now.”

“What does that mean? ‘If they’re the scientists they’re supposed to be’?” Bryce’s heart jumped in his chest. He should be used to this damned machine’s mind games by now, but he wasn’t. Not this time, anyway. But that one guy, the Captain, he’d mentioned having the data. Surely he was able to figure it out. It looked like he was trying to control the situation, as confused as it had been. He’d said there was nothing to worry about, and something in his voice made Bryce want to believe he was right.

“Calm yourself,” Five chastised. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. These are colonists come to join the first group. I haven’t been able to ascertain a reason for them being so late, but I’m sure they will be able to explain.”

Bryce shook his head as he paced. “They’ll want to know what happened.”

“And you’ll tell them. I have it all here in the medical files, as well as my own documentation of the occurrences.”

“You don’t even remember where they went.” He stopped pacing and stared at the screen, judging the time left.

“We both know that section of my hard drive was damaged. Much the same way your memory was affected by the accident.” Five switched the view from the approaching shuttle to the larger ship in orbit around their planet.

“What are you doing?” Bryce found himself looking at a huge ship hanging motionless in the blackness above.

“Just checking the model of that ship against my records.”

“And?”

“It appears to be an old military vessel, refurbished as a transport.”

Bryce felt all the blood wash out of his face. “Military?” They had said they were the second group. He swore they had.

“Refurbished,” Five repeated. “Don’t worry, they’re the colony group. And it’s time you went out and met them.”

Why wasn’t any of this like his dream? He was supposed to be thrilled when the fabled Second Group came. So many years of being alone, with only the computer that had kept him alive for company. Years of dreaming about rescue, the companionship of other humans. All those years, waiting for this single moment when the ship would arrive and people would come to live here again. Dreams of no longer being alone were now churning in his stomach as the shuttle appeared in the sky above the mountains.

Bryce swallowed hard, then straightened up to his full five feet seven and walked toward the main door. Panic washed over him the instant he stepped through the archway. This time, it had nothing to do with what he was walking to meet.

“Five, you’ll leave the doors open?” The shuttle was landing now, a hundred yards away from the courtyard, but he knew his voice had carried to the outdoor sensors.

There was no reply. At least not one Bryce could hear over the braking thrusters of the ship. In an instant, too quick for him to hold onto, an image flashed through his mind. An image of darkness, walls closing in all around, and gut wrenching fear.

As quickly as the image appeared, it was gone. Bryce had no time to try and get it back, but the impact left him breathless and cold. And facing a shuttle that was huge, two levels, with a large sloping gangway already snaking down from the door on the upper level.

“Five, did you hear me?” Only the engines answered as they powered down in front of him. Fine. He still had a way in if the computer was going to pull anything on him.

With a swish, the shuttle door opened. Bryce swallowed again, wondering if any small part of his dream was going to work out. There was little he could do about anything now. The first of the new arrivals was stepping through the door.

It was the older man with the white hair, the one he remembered as being Commander something-or-other. The man paused at the door, then smiled down and began walking the steep ramp. Behind him was a woman, close to the same age, who kept looking out at the landscape while she followed him down. Behind her came another man, younger than the first two, but with a look of age about him. Bryce suddenly recognized him as the man on the screen with the bright blue eyes and short hair who had told him everything was going to be okay.

What did he know?

Still, as the three approached, Bryce felt drawn to him over the other two. He had an air of control, a self awareness. The other two just looked excited. Swallowing hard, Bryce stepped up to meet them. He didn’t have a clue what to say.

“I’m Commander Alexander.” The older man stepped up first, extending his hand. “This is Doctor Lise Weller, and Captain Brennan, the pilot who brought us all this way.”

Bryce took the hand that was offered, praying his own wasn’t shaking as much as he thought it was, and smiled at the three arrivals. His heart was racing so fast he could hear the blood rushing through his ears.

“I’m Bryce.” He shook the woman’s hand and she gave him a puzzled glance. “I’m the only one here.” Were they going to believe him? He reached out and shook the Captain’s hand. There was something in his manner that spoke of calm control. He must have seen right through the fear, since his hand held on firmly, giving Bryce the moment he needed to gain some composure. The ice-blue eyes met his with warmth and a kind sparkle.

“We understand from the data the computer sent up that no one else resides here.” The Commander glanced around. “Did they move on?”

Bryce looked at the man, then shook his head. “I don’t know.” His gaze dropped instantly to the ground, but he recovered quickly. “Five can tell you more than I can.”

“Has the computer kept things from you?” The Captain’s voice was quiet and not accusing.

“No, I don’t–I’m not sure.” This wasn’t going well. His heart was racing again. How much could he tell these people? How much should he tell them? He looked up and felt another surge of fear knot up his gut.

“That’s the first load.” The Commander pointed to the large group of people massing down the gangplank. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, Bryce. You should have had more warning we were coming, but things haven’t worked out right for the past twenty years, I’m afraid.”

“They said you’d come, when I was a kid. But since it never happened, it was just a story, nothing more.” A story he used to think would be a fantastic adventure, until now.

“There was a . . . delay.” The Commander sighed. “But we’re here now, and I’m sorry but we’re going to be invading your camp. If you could just show us around? Our people will begin unloading the gear.”

Numbly, Bryce motioned toward the main building then led the group through the courtyard to the front doors. They were invading his home, but a small voice inside was trying to convince him this had been the plan all along. It wasn’t really his home, after all. It belonged to the others, the ones who brought him, and had been planned as a temporary shelter. He didn’t really have any rights to it.

Bryce saw them all stare up at the Tracker as they walked through the courtyard, but no one stopped until they got indoors.

“What is that large silver structure?” The Doctor pointed out to the courtyard. “It’s beautiful.”

“That is what the original group called the Tracker,” Five chimed in, catching everyone off-guard for a moment. “Just a statue, really. Made from local metals. I’m told humans find the movement very soothing.”

Bryce felt the muscles in his jaw tighten and he looked away for a moment, glaring over his shoulder at one of the monitors in the wall. When he looked back, the captain was watching him.

“You must be the Adam Unit?” Commander Alexander stepped farther into the room, looking around at the mostly vacant, large foyer. He spoke into the air, having no terminal visible in that room to speak toward.

“I’m called Five, Commander. At your service.”

“Well, Five, perhaps you could direct me to your Medical Unit? I’d like to give Bryce here an examination.” The Doctor turned to Bryce and smiled, eyebrows arched. “That is, if you don’t mind?”

Mind? He wanted to run away. Everything in his head was telling him to get the hell away from these strangers and crawl into one of the caves in the hills. But he couldn’t. They were in his home. And he’d waited all this time for them to come. Nervously, Bryce shook his head. “No, I don’t mind.” He was going to have to adapt to these people, and to do that he’d have to get to know them. At least, some of them. He was perfectly willing to look on the bright side.

If only he could find it.

“I can assure you, Doctor, Bryce is in perfect health. My medical unit may be outdated, but I’ve had no trouble at all in–”

“Thank you, Five,” the doctor interrupted easily, taking Bryce by the arm with a smile. “I can manage, if you’d like to give the Commander some assistance.”

Bryce couldn’t help noticing the look Captain Brennan gave the Commander as he allowed Doctor Weller to lead him out of the room. He couldn’t really interpret it, but there was something exchanged between the two men, and he got the feeling it wasn’t about him. Once through the first hallway, he pointed toward the Medical area. “It’s right in there, but Five’s right, I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you are, young man. But it’s been a while since you’ve been examined by a doctor, hasn’t it?” When they entered the room her eyes darted immediately to the monitor in the far corner. “We got your files, and I just wanted to check you out and have a talk, if you don’t mind?”

Was that the trick? Separate him from the others while they move in, leave him with the female so she can get him to reveal . . . what? “So you know about the accident?” What was he doing? Scared to death, surrounded by strangers, and willingly he sits on the exam bench and starts talking?

“I read the medical report, yes.” Doctor Weller smiled as she glanced around the room.

“I believe the equipment you’re looking for is in the lower left cupboard.”

Bryce looked up at the ever-present monitor, but before he could reply, the Doctor beat him to it.

“Thank you, Five, but I’m sure you understand the importance of privacy between a doctor and a patient?” She punctuated her sentence by flipping off the power to the computer’s access terminal, leaving the monitor and sensors lifeless.

He thought his heart would stop. “You—Wait, you can’t–You turned him off!” Bryce had to fight to keep from lunging across the room and flipping it back on. Only the shock of what she’d done — and an odd small bit of relief–kept him from it.

“Bryce, it’s all right.” Her hands reached out for his shoulders, but he pulled back and she stopped in front of him. “I know he must have been your constant companion for quite some time, but it’s going to be fine.”

Fine?! What the hell did she know from . . . Okay. Deep breath. “He controls the building.” She had to understand that, right?

“Bryce–”

“You can’t turn him off, he has to control the building.” Another deep breath still didn’t calm his racing pulse.

“It’s okay. I’ve only switched him off in here. He’s still on throughout the complex.”

He met her eyes and forced himself to relax. This was too much all at one time. It wouldn’t do to prove himself a nutcase in front of these people. Not when they must already figure him for the bad guy. “I’m sorry. I just — He’s never been turned off before, that’s all.”

“I understand.” She pulled a diagnostic unit from the drawer beside her. “What can you tell me about this accident?”

Five had to know it wasn’t him who had flipped that switch. Besides, he’d be using all of his circuits dealing with the other people right now. “Nothing. I don’t remember it.”

She held the unit in front of his chest. “Can you unbutton your shirt, please?” The older medical unit came on without protest. “Nothing?”

“I remember waking up in here with a headache. Five told me there had been an accident. He had to use the robotic servos from the lab to get me inside.”

“There was no one else here who could help?” She motioned for the shirt to come all the way off, then moved around to scan his back.

“No, I was alone.” The slight vibration of the unit was warm against his skin.

“Was there anyone with you before the accident?” Finished with his back, she set the machine down and picked up a smaller one, aiming at his eyes.

“He said they were gone.”

“Five told you they were gone?”

“His hardware was damaged. Some of the memory was erased.” The light shining in his eyes moved, then turned off.

“Bryce, have you had any contact with anyone since the accident?”

She wasn’t buying it. “No, there isn’t anyone. They’re all gone, all right? They’ve been gone for ten years, and I don’t know why or where!” Quickly, Bryce pulled his shirt back on and pushed away from the exam table. “I can’t even remember what it was like when they were here! And you –You people were just stories Five told me when I was a kid!” He was about to run out of the room when he realized there was nowhere to run to. He was trapped, and not dealing with it very well, judging by the look on the Doctor’s face. He took a deep breath and pushed some hair from his face. “I’m sorry. I just–”

“No, don’t apologize.” She held up a hand and smiled, almost sadly. “And call me Lise, okay? Everyone who knows me calls me Lise, not Doctor.” Slowly, she took a few steps toward him. “And I assure you, Bryce, you’ll get to know me. You’ll get to know all of us. We’re not planning on vanishing. And we’re not here to cause you any harm.”

He supposed that was intended to make him feel better. “Yeah, well . . . I’m sorry. I can hardly remember the time right after the accident, and I can’t remember anything before except little things.” Life is made of little things. He’d heard that before, somewhere.

“I realize this has to be hard for you, having been alone for so long.” Lise pointed toward a pair of chairs near a desk in the far corner of the room. “We were scheduled to come twenty years ago, just as your computer said. We should have arrived while you were still a young boy.”

Reluctantly, Bryce followed her to the chairs and sat down. “Why didn’t you?”

“There was a war. A long one.” Lise sat down with a sad sigh and turned toward the small table between them, folding her arms over the top so she could lean forward. “It started three months before the second colony’s scheduled departure, and lasted twenty years.” She sighed again and shook her head. “All that time, the Bureau wouldn’t allow any ships not in military service to use the Particle Launch.”

Bryce nodded. “Five taught me about that, the thing that shoots your ships out this far.”

“He was your teacher, then?”

Her tone was casual, but he couldn’t help feel there was more to it. “He was programmed to teach the children, among other things. He can tell you about that.” Why weren’t they asking Five what happened? Or were they, while they kept him in here? Separate the two?

“I’m sure he can.” Lise smiled as if she sensed his uneasiness. “That’s not important right now. I assume you know your environment? What plants are edible, the animals that can and can’t be used for food, that sort of thing?”

“Of course. They planted crops over the hill to the north that I’ve kept. It doesn’t take any effort to keep things going around here. There used to be cattle, but they went wild a long time ago. You have to hunt them.” This kind of information came out easily enough. At least they couldn’t accuse him of poisoning them, if he was eating the stuff too. But then . . . “There are some toxic plants, sometimes deadly, that mimic the right ones.” Did he still have that written down, or was it all in Five’s banks?

“We have some diagnostic equipment that can help identify most edibles, but it would help if you could give us a list, or signs to watch out for. We can only look for known toxins, and this is an alien planet to us, after all.”

Alien. Bryce nearly laughed, hearing his world described like that, when it was these new arrivals who were alien to him. “I think there’s a catalog somewhere. I just know them,” he shrugged.

“That’ll be fine. We’ll get to know them, too, as we get to know you. And we brought more cattle, in embryonic stasis, just like the ones your group brought out.”

“How many are there? Of you, I mean.” It was time to change the subject. Five talked to him like this sometimes, treating him like a scared child, but only when he was trying to get inside his head. He had no choice but to let these people inside his world, but he be damned if he was going to let them inside his head.

“Three hundred. But don’t worry, as soon as possible, they’ll be building new shelters and spreading out.” She nodded around the small room. “But for a bit, it might feel pretty crowded around here.”

Bryce nodded, then had to swallow to moisten a suddenly dry throat. “I should move my things.” Not that he had much, but it was everything. “To make room.” He stood, glancing again at the lifeless terminal on the wall.

“Don’t worry too much, Bryce.” Lise stood with him, reaching out a hand that stopped short of touching his arm. “We’re fully aware this is your home, I promise you that. Anything you have in these buildings will remain yours, whether you want to move it or not.”

Her smile seemed sincere, at least. “Are you finished with me, then?”

“Yes, certainly.” Lise pulled back her hand and let it push long, dark hair off of one shoulder. “Oh, but I do have one question, if you don’t mind? Your eye color, as listed in the log from the original ship’s records, is blue.”

Bryce arched both eyebrows for a moment as he guessed her question. “Five said it was the water. Something about years of exposure, or DNA or something.” He shrugged, not really knowing the technicalities. “Five told me only people with pale colored eyes changed.”

Lise nodded, considering that for a moment. “Interesting. It’s attractive, though. Just very unusual. I’ve never seen anyone with lavender flecks in their eyes before.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll all adapt the same, over time.”

“Yes, I’m sure we will.” As he turned to leave, she stepped forward quickly. “Bryce, if you need anyone to talk to, if you need a friend while you get used to us being here, please feel free to come to me. Or Captain Brennan, if you prefer. He’s not a scientist like the rest of us, so he’s somewhat of an outsider himself. I’m sure he would prove a good sounding board, should you need one.”

Bryce let a small movement of his head serve as an answer, leaving her free to interpret its meaning as he left the exam room. His heart had been racing the entire time, he was sure. Whether she’d been able to see right through him, he didn’t know. All he did know right now was confusion. It was happening too fast, all around him. This dream that had become a nightmare was happening and he had no control over it. His troubled thoughts took him down the hall, back into the meeting room of the main building, only it wasn’t the same room he’d known.

When he brought Lise, the Commander, and that Captain in here not long ago, it was as it had been for years. Large, mostly empty except for some built-in equipment lining the walls, and monitored from one corner to the next by Five. The room he was in now resembled that one in size only. Even that was deceptively lessened by the boxes, crates and stacks of new equipment, tools, living supplies and computer terminals.

And people.

They were everywhere, carrying boxes in from outside, examining the rooms of all three buildings that made up the complex, talking and pointing and adding more and more clutter to every corner there was. And they all knew him. Or at least, who he was. Everywhere he went, rooms full of people turned and nodded at him. Some smiled, some whispered to their companions. But they all knew who he was. He couldn’t get away from them.

“Five?” Bryce eased himself into the room where he’d been keeping the majority of his private things, checking first to see if any of them were inside. It was empty of people, but boxes were strewn around the large room. There were bed frames stacked against one wall, and his own bed had been pushed to the corner, with struts now attached to each post, ready to accept additions.

“Pardon me, coming through.”

Bryce nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d been expecting–hoping–for Five’s voice to answer him. Instead, he found himself facing a short, red-haired man in his late twenties, both arms full with more of the bed frames as he squeezed through the door.

“Oh, hey, you’re the guy, aren’t you? Bryce, right?”

Shaking himself out of his surprise, Bryce nodded. “Yes, I am.”

The bed frames fell to the side with a loud clang that was ignored by their depositor. “I’m Eddie.” The man extended a hand and smiled broadly. “Eddie Peck. I’m in hydroponics, but they have us all doing grunt work right now.”

Bryce accepted the hand but he couldn’t think of a word to say. That, he quickly learned, would have been hard to do anyway.

“Yeah, listen, I’m sorry about barging in like this and all, but we’re kinda pressed for space right now. But listen, none of your things have been moved.” Eddie reached down and straightened up the frames he dropped. “Well, moved, yeah. But only to make more room, you know? I have boxes you can use, if you want to gather your stuff up so nobody touches it.”

“Boxes?” A rush of panic washed over Bryce’s face, then settled in his stomach. The air grew thick — too thick. He couldn’t breathe! “I need — I — Could you just–”

“Peck, how about giving him something other than boxes, huh?”

Bryce looked up, trying to focus through the strange wave of terror washing over his mind and body. He found the captain standing in the hall.

“Oh, right, sorry about that.” Eddie turned back to Bryce. “I get a little caught up in the moment sometimes.” He shrugged and turned to leave. “I’ll leave you alone for a bit, kid. Hey, Brennan, I have one more load before you take off. Be done in a sec.”

Bryce stared at the departing man’s back, desperate to find something he could focus on long enough to get over this feeling before it took him over. When his focal point rounded a corner, the only thing left to rest his gaze on was Captain Brennan, still standing in the doorway.

“Eddie’s okay, really. But he can talk you to death.” The Captain smiled apologetically.

“Yeah.” Numbly, Bryce nodded, looking away while he tried to regain some sense. He was alone now, except for the Captain who remained in the hall. “I just — I need to get this stuff out of the way.” He needed to hide, somewhere small and walled off, where they wouldn’t find him.

Captain Brennan glanced around the room and shook his head slowly. “These people can be pretty clueless sometimes. But they don’t do it on purpose.” He looked down and caught Bryce’s eye. “At least, not all the time.”

Swallowing hard, Bryce nodded. “I guess I was a little spread out. I’ll just get some stuff together and–”

“Listen, Bryce,” he held out a hand but made no move to enter the room. “This is your home. I guess, like it or not, you’re being invaded. But this is still your home. You’re not in anyone’s way, and they can’t muscle you out.”

Bryce turned and found an empty box, nodding back. He still couldn’t think very straight, but he suddenly realized all of the boxes in the room were empty. Put there for his stuff to go into? He cleared his throat and set a box on the bed. “You talk about them like they’re something you’re not part of.” The man was still in the doorway. As long as he stayed there, that claustrophobic sensation wasn’t returning. And his voice was the only one so far that didn’t have that tone. The one that people used when they wanted to hide the meaning behind their words.

“Technically, I’m not.” Brennan leaned on the door jam and shrugged. “I’m just the pilot they hired to fly them all out here.”

“But it’s a one way trip.” The box was filled too quickly, so he had to find another. As he reached for the second one, he caught the Captain’s eyes. That blue was going to change, like his had. Fleetingly, Bryce wondered if he knew that.

“Yeah, that it is.”

“So . . . why did you?” He stood there, feeling no return of the panic from earlier. This guy was different from the rest of them, so far. An air of control hovered around him, something Bryce was beginning to wish he could borrow, just for today.

He shrugged. “I wanted a change, I guess. Being a pilot in the war gave me my fill of space, I figured it was time to see something new.”

“I used to think new was a good thing.” Bryce turned back to his boxes and fought off the sensation of hopelessness creeping over him. Many more of these mood swings and he’d explode.

“Look, if you–”

“Brennan, shuttle’s all yours.”

Bryce looked up, dreading the return of the short man.

“Right.” Brennan nodded, then glanced at Bryce before turning to Eddie. “Listen, Peck, I want you to give Bryce here some time alone to get his things where he wants them. Go find another room to stuff your crap into, okay?”

“Uh . . . sure, Captain. But I–”

“No buts. Give the kid a break, for Christ’s sake.”

Bryce glanced away when Eddie looked in, but he saw enough to catch a repentant look on the man’s face as he nodded to the Captain before walking away. When he was gone, Bryce looked up again “Thanks.”

The Captain looked at him for a moment before speaking. When he did, his voice was quiet, directed calmly into the room. “Don’t even try to take this all in right away. Things have a way of working out, if you give them enough time.” He smiled again, but didn’t walk away until Bryce nodded in reply.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he whispered at the man’s back as he left. The room remained empty even though people were still walking by, so he closed the door and turned back to the mess that had once been his personal space.

It took nearly three hours to stuff everything he considered personal into the boxes left for his use, then carry it all down to a corner of the basement that hadn’t been moved into. Five still wouldn’t answer him, but he could be busy himself, dealing with the invasion. Every other room, corner, and storage bin had been occupied already, filled with new equipment, supplies, furniture, and people. Below the main building was a basement used for storage and work space, spanning the entire length of the complex. Bryce rarely went down there. Living alone in such a large settlement had given him the freedom to gather that which he’d use most often and keep it as close as possible. That way, he was free to lock doors and shrink the area he had to call home. Now, all the doors and windows were unlocked, all the corners moved into, all the storage areas filling up. But so far, while they had started to stack boxes and crates in the huge basement, Bryce was still able to find room in a far corner. As far away from that broken door leading out as he could manage.

It was mid-afternoon when he finished. Each trip back upstairs revealed more and more people as the shuttle came and went, bringing more colonists down by the hour. They were spread out in the courtyard, scurrying around their crates and machines, crowding even the outdoors. Lise caught his eye and smiled when he walked past the crowd, but she made no move to join him and motioned for a few others to continue what they were doing. He needed room! Or time, or something. The only place he could find any peace, as temporary as it might be, turned out to be a familiar one.

The tree, huge and dominating that grew a few hundred yards away from the edge of the outermost building, had been a favorite play area when he was a child. That was one of the few memories he still had of that time, long ago. Massive branches that scooped downward, ending in a spoon just right for small boys to slide into. No leaves like some of the other trees had to get in the way of a great swoop into the cup. Just the fuzz that grew in summer, covering the smooth wood and adding a softness that cushioned the sleeping trespasser. He’d fashioned a chair out of a fallen branch that was perfect for curling up in during the evening hours. It was in the basement now, holding his boxes.

Bryce climbed into a lower branch, into the spoon that hung four feet from the ground, and pulled his legs up so he could sit on his feet. From there the entire complex was visible, with its scurry of life dashing around like bugs. No one seemed to notice him, or if they did, they were at least willing to leave him alone for a few hours.

He’d brought a container of water and some fruit for lunch, but they sat beside him untouched as his appetite failed to take interest. A few minutes after he sat down, the shuttle returned to land in the same spot on the rise. Within an instant of landing, large doors opened and began disgorging passengers and gear. From the upper level, Bryce spotted the captain walking down the gangway, ignoring the commotion below. He shouted something to two men, who stepped up to the ship, then pointed toward the buildings. One of the men nodded, and the captain moved away, giving the unloading process one glance over his shoulder before he walked to the complex. That man might not be one of them, but they appeared to obey whatever it was he’d said. Bryce watched him walk to the courtyard, then lost him around the edge of the northern-most structure.

Far enough away to hear nothing more than muffled voices, he sat back in the tree and watched. The breeze blowing off the hills was warm with the promise of summer, carrying with it scents of flowers and herbs that grew all around him. The grass was nearly purple this time of year with all the blossoms, interrupted here and there by the blues and yellows of herbs that grew wild on the plain. Clouds of soft pink and white drifted across the deep blue sky, casting shadows now and then on the snow-capped mountains in the south. Someone exclaimed and pointed upward when a bird flew overhead. Bryce knew these animals were unusual to the extreme, at least to the newcomers. They had been to him once, long ago. He remembered seeing one for the first time, awed by the twelve foot wingspan and long, trailing feathers of the quiet, grass-eating Koutara birds. Something brushed his arm and he looked down, catching the teal feather that had shed from a wing of the passing avian. The soft fluff sat on his forearm where he stared at the shimmering color that changed in the light, until the soft breeze lifted it up again and sent it farther down the hill with a soft puff.

He hated this place.

No sooner had it landed, than the feather was picked up, examined, and carried back up the hill toward his tree. Bryce hadn’t seen Captain Brennan come back out of the buildings, but now he was approaching, quietly twirling the feather between two fingers. In his other hand he held a water bottle, half empty.

“I’ll say one thing for this planet, it’s certainly colorful.” He smiled, then let the feather loose on the breeze again, stopping a polite distance away.

“I’ve seen pictures of Earth. It seemed pretty colorful to me.” Bryce couldn’t really recall anything in particular, but he did remember seeing colors.

Brennan shrugged. “I’ve only been there a couple of times.” He took a drink, looked at the bottle in his hand and shook his head. “This is definitely the only place I’ve been that has a color to its water.”

“You’re not from Earth?” So far, Bryce had felt no return of his panic from earlier. Brennan was staying a few feet away, standing casually beside the branch he was sitting in. His voice was calm, quieter than the others, and held none of that nervousness or hidden agenda feel. This must be what the doctor had meant by a big brother.

He shook his head, gazing out over the complex’s courtyard below them. “I was born and raised on a mining station, till I left to join the military.”

“So you — you’re really not a colonist, then?”

“Nah, not me. Well, not before now.” Brennan smiled slightly, cocking his head to one side as he half-shrugged.

“No.” Bryce looked up and met the captain’s gaze. “You’re not what they are. No more than I am.” It could all be an elaborate trick to try to get some kind of information out of him. If so, it wouldn’t work. He simply didn’t have any.

Brennan’s eyes met his with an odd sort of understanding behind them. “They’re not all the same, Bryce. Keep that in mind when you’re around them. I just spent six months with them, and I survived.” He smiled, stopping just short of a laugh.

Bryce had expected questions, about his past, about the colony. He’d even accidentally left the line open by asking where the captain was from, but none came. The man seemed content to stand there and watch all the people dashing around unpacking the shuttle. He was just getting up the nerve to speak to him again when someone shouted up the hill.

“Brennan, you’re ready for another round!”

The captain waved his acknowledgment, and turned back to Bryce. “Duty calls.” He finished his water and set the cap back on the bottle. “You take it easy, all right? I’ll see you later.”

He couldn’t answer with more than a nod, couldn’t make his mouth form anything coherent through the sudden sense of uneasiness that washed over him. Brennan was walking back to his shuttle, giving instructions to a few people who were securing the large doors on the lower level of the ship.

Bryce glanced around the courtyard, wondering if he could make it inside and down to the basement without anyone stopping him. His heart felt five times heavier than it should, and was thudding in his chest in slow motion. How long had it been? How many hours had it taken for his peaceful, dead-quiet home to turn into this chaotic mass of strangers? Just that morning his had been the only human footprints in the loose dirt of the hillside. Just yesterday, he’d been lounging in the hot spring, gazing at the clouds without a thought of what might be coming. And now . . . Now it was never going to be the same.

There didn’t appear to be a clear way inside, so Bryce remained where he was, watching the shuttle lift off in a thunder of engines and cloud of dust. A small sense of apprehension grabbed the back of his throat as the ship moved out of sight, heading again into space for another load. There was something about Captain Brennan that suggested he understood what Bryce was feeling, how hard it was going to be for him to adjust to this invasion. Silently, he prayed he was right, that there was at least one person here who wasn’t going to want something from him. Who wasn’t going to want answers he couldn’t give.

“Bryce, there you are.” Lise stopped in front of the tree, slightly out of breath from the climb up the rise. “I was hoping you could show me a few things about some of the plants we’ve gathered. Perhaps give me a list of what’s edible?”

Maybe if he answered other things, they’d forget the rest? He doubted that.

“Yeah.” His seclusion invaded, Bryce unfolded his legs and got out of the tree. Maybe the captain was right about judging all of these newcomers alike. This was, after all, the companionship he’d longed for all this time. Being invaded so suddenly was a shock he’d have to get over, then maybe it would work.

The botanists had been gathering samples of crops, plants, herbs, and unbeknownst to them, several toxic weeds, and had them displayed along one of the long tables in the laboratory. He had to get a printout from Five, which was made more complicated than usual once he learned they’d turned off his audio outputs. Someone said the Commander was deep in conference with the computer and didn’t want it sharing resources, but Bryce wasn’t convinced. The fear of what was happening to the machine responsible for his life had to be pushed aside before it could consume him. They wouldn’t be so foolish as to damage Five, surely.

At least the botanists were thrilled with their discoveries, and very pleased with the information Bryce supplied about the plants and crops. His readout had been compiled from the original records, then amended every time something new was learned, and included the proper methods to safely turn a poisonous plant into an edible root, or how long to boil the venom from the meat of a sandfish. They were happy just pouring over the data and asking him questions about this or that leaf or flower. Not once did anyone ask him who compiled the records, or where they were now. The atmosphere of the room was so highly concentrated on one subject, Bryce found it easier to tolerate the room full of seven people, only four of whom had paused long enough to tell him their names. Maybe Captain Brennan was right.

He heard the shuttle land outside twice more during his plant-schooling session, and once the captain came into the lab to see what they were doing. Everyone seemed very comfortable around him, treating him with the respect of an equal. Members of the groups milling around the complex were slowly beginning to fall into place as Bryce watched and listened. So far, the only ones he judged to have complete authority were the commander, Lise, and Captain Brennan. A few others could be seen giving orders to one group, while taking orders from another. With so many of them, it would take weeks for Bryce to get their pecking order figured out. And longer, he was sure, to figure out where he belonged.

Right now, he belonged downstairs. Someone had come inside asking for a light before the sun was completely gone, and that was the last thing Bryce remembered clearly. He must have made it down without anyone noticing, since he next found himself surrounded by boxes and crates in the basement, with no one else around.

“Five?” Where was it? The handheld unit was in the top box. “There you are.” Bryce retrieved the portable terminal and opened the screen, flipping the small unit on as the display unfolded. “Five, where the hell are you?”

“I’m here.”

“What’s going on?! They disconnected some of your–”

“They’ve disconnected everything.”

A strange, cold, almost white-out sensation froze the entire world in place. Bryce had no real idea how long he sat there, trying to catch his breath. “They turned you off?”

“I did manage to download entirely into your personal terminal, but I no longer have any control functions.”

Oh God, the — how could — what was he going to do? “Five — The doors?” His voice was no louder than a whisper, forced out through the lightheadedness.

“There’s nothing to worry about, you’re secure.”

“But–”

“Bryce, there’s nothing to worry about, trust me. The doors are secure.”

He knew the machine was lying, but he accepted the answer. If he was disconnected from the controls, how could he know? There were only two ways into or out of his section of the basement, and both of those doors were shut and secured. Bryce was at least sure of that.

“We have other things to worry about right now.”

“Other things? Aside from the three-hundred strangers who just moved in and took control?” It wasn’t a good time for one of these games, but Five’s attitude forced it out. “Why did they disconnect you?”

“Never mind that now, Bryce. We can fix that as long as all of my files stay in this unit.” The screen flickered to life with images of various rooms throughout the complex. “I can access the cameras with the wave output, but nothing more.” After a few tries, the screen settled in on one room. “I think you’ll want to listen in.”

Bryce watched the screen focus, displaying one of the conference rooms beside the main dining hall. Inside the room were four people, all seated around the table, cups of steaming liquid in front of each. “There’s no audio.”

“Just one minute, I’m trying again.”

He watched the Commander and Doctor Weller enter the room and join the other four with nods and smiles. Around the table sat Captain Brennan, with someone to his right Bryce hadn’t met yet, then to her right was a guy he remembered as being Bill someone, and standing at the far end of the room was the head botanist, Carl Simon.

“What about audio, Five?”

“…a list of edible plants, which we’re making copies of now.” Carl’s voice suddenly kicked in over the small unit’s speaker. “He’s been extremely helpful, in my opinion.”

“There, that should do it,” Five replied. “I’m not sure how reliable it will be.”

“Quiet.” Bryce leaned forward, perched on a pile of bedding tucked close into the far corner of his hideaway.

“Did you get anything out of him during your exam?” Commander Alexander pulled a chair out for Lise as he spoke, motioning for her to sit first.

“Technically, no. But I think I have an idea on how to get past his memory loss.”

The hairs on the back of Bryce’s neck stood up as he listened.

“Is it physical, or psychological?” Captain Brennan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He appeared to be rolling his cup back and forth in both hands, savoring the smell of whatever was inside. From the camera angle, it looked like coffee.

“There’s no denying he was injured.” Lise reached up and pointed to her own forehead. “He has a scar, quite deep, that hides up under the hairline. And the medical records are clear about the severity of the trauma.”

“But?” The commander sat down beside her, glancing around the room.

“But, I’m also positive a good deal of what he can’t recall is due to repression. Possibly psychosomatic, some kind of emotional trauma.”

“I, for one, would like to know what could have happened out here to cause a man to forget where three hundred people went.” The unidentified man spoke, pushing his empty cup to the middle of the table. “Have you noticed, there are no graves? Not one. I’ve been all around this area in the past six hours and haven’t found one single grave.”

Oh, God. “Five . . .” What were they going to do?“Just listen. We don’t need to panic yet.”

That was easy for it to say, the computer didn’t have a heart that had started to race again.

“Just what are you proposing?” Brennan asked, looking at the doctor.

“Well, it’s worked several times in the past. I’ve never done it myself, but I’ve assisted with some of the procedures.” She sat back, folding her arms in front of her chest. “Regression therapy can bring out anything he can’t recall, but there’s a new treatment that has proven successful in revealing those memories repressed due to emotional or physical trauma. They’ve even managed to–”

“No.”

“Wait a second, how far back can this go?” Bill’s question overshadowed the objection raised by Captain Brennan.

“Five, what are they doing?” And how was he going to get away? There was nowhere to go, nowhere he could run.

“We can bring up anything relevant to the reason or cause of his suppression. Even have him recall things he wasn’t consciously aware he’d known. Things hidden by emotional upset or turmoil.”

“No.” Captain Brennan objected again, only this time loud enough to get their attention.

“Yes, I’m sure it will work.” Lise unfolded her arms and glanced at the commander.

Brennan was shaking his head. “I’ve seen this done and I’ve seen the results.”

“Now, Captain, I’m sure you–”

“No, Lise. No offense to you, but I’ve seen some of your colleagues’ work.” He stood and walked to the end of the small room, then turned back to face the group. Bryce couldn’t help notice the way his jaw was clenching when he turned around. “The human mind can take a lot of punishment, but sometimes it has to shut down to stay alive. Am I right, doctor?”

“Yes, of course. That’s the whole concept behind traumatic repression. The patient has either seen or done something that is simply too painful to accept, so the mind pushes it away, hides it from the conscious, until it’s able to deal with what occurred.”

“But sometimes it never deals with it. Sometimes these people never remember what happened.” Commander Alexander looked from Lise to the captain.

“That’s my point.” Brennan held up a hand while he spoke. “I’ve seen good men, damn good men, completely ruined by this kind of therapy. Men who had successfully managed to suppress or forget whatever the hell they saw and get on with their lives. Until some doctor comes along and decides it’s best for everyone if these memories are forced out before the patient is ready.”

“Sometimes they’re never ready,” Bill interjected.

“Exactly.” Brennan nodded once, lowering his hand. “Sometimes they’re not ready.”

“What happens then?” The commander turned to Lise.

The blood rushing through Bryce’s ears was like thunder.

“There are documented cases of patients going insane when the memories are forced back too soon. Or worse.”

“I’ve seen the worse.” Brennan remained in the far corner of the room, jaw still clenching. “I’ve seen more than one man take his own life after being forced to confront memories he’d successfully shielded himself from.”

“Yes, that is a possibility. If we go with this option, it’s–”

“It’s not an option. You doctors always want to mess with something that’s being dealt with naturally.”

“Brennan, making someone remember a trauma can be a beneficial–”

“That’s bullshit and you know it! You’re talking about taking something that this kid has successfully found a way to deal with, and forcing it back on him.”

“I don’t consider repression a successful way of dealing with something, do you?”

“If it leaves the victim alive and dealing with it his own way, yes.”

“But we need answers!” The man Bryce didn’t know turned to the captain. “That kid knows what happened down here.”

He wanted to swallow, to moisten the sandpaper that lined his throat, but he had no spit. And his hands were shaking too much to push the hair from his eyes.

“So you’re willing to sacrifice this kid for a few answers?”

“Brennan, what the hell do you care?”

“Somebody has to.”

“This is a colony matter, Captain.”

“This is a human matter, Eckland. He’s no more a colonist than I am, but he’s stuck here with all of you just the same. He didn’t ask us to come any more than he asked to be brought here twenty years ago.”

“Gentlemen, please!” The commander tried to raise his voice over the argument. “Rob, Brennan’s right. Bryce is not the enemy here. In fact, Carol and I think we found something in those computer files. It took some digging, but we–”

Both the screen and audio went blank, leaving Bryce alone and dizzy.

“I’m sorry, but the remote connection isn’t very reliable. They have some equipment running that seems to be interfering with my signal.”

“God, Five, what am I going to do?” How long could he stay here, if they were already discussing ways to force him to remember a past he couldn’t even dream about? “Can they do that? Can they force me to remember?”

“Relax. I doubt it will come to that.”

He stared at the small computer in his hand, still feeling a little whitewashed and cold. Outnumbered three-hundred to one, there was little he could do if it did come to that. Only the captain had stood up to them, but how long would that last? If he really wasn’t one of them, how long would his influence hold any weight?

“Bryce, you’re going to have to find a way to get me back into the mainframe.” Five’s voice cut through the numbness. “I can’t do anything unless I’m hooked back up.”

“Not now.” Without another word, Bryce shut the computer off and tossed it aside. He felt so dizzy, even sitting down he feared he might pass out. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to move to, and he had no answers to give these people. They were the authority now by sheer weight of numbers, they’d do whatever they wanted to do. Not even Five could stop them. Not like — Another image flashed through his mind, again too quickly to be understood, but this time not of darkness and walls closing in — This time it was doors. Large doors, slamming shut, closing off the screams.

“Dammit!” Bryce shoved the portable terminal away from him and closed his eyes tightly, trying to find that image again. This wasn’t happening! He’d never had flashes like this before, never felt this kind of fear before. Not since . . . Since when?

Something moved at the far end of the room, sliding over the floor. Voices suddenly interrupted Bryce’s thoughts, reaching him from the doorway.

“Yeah, sorry, Brennan. I’m pretty sure it’s down in there somewhere. You need help looking?”

“No, thanks, Eddie. I can handle it.”

Bryce sat up quickly and took several deep breaths, hoping some blood would eventually find its way back to his head. The door closed again, but one man had come inside, moving around the crates near the far wall. In a matter of minutes, he was spotted.

“Hey.” Captain Brennan approached his corner, smiling slightly. He stopped several feet away from where Bryce sat leaning into the corner on a pile of bedding. “Is this where they chased you off to?”

Bryce shrugged. “Seemed as good a place as any.” He nodded around the room. “Are you looking for something?” He wanted to ask about the meeting he’d seen, but he couldn’t admit to having spied. Not until he knew if this man was really on his side or not. Maybe not even then.

“Yeah, I need a control box for the Kensington’s auto pilot. That twit Eddie unpacked it from the shuttle by accident.” He looked around the room, taking in the huge amount of equipment piled all around him. “I’m lucky the pilot seat was permanently fixed, or he’d have unpacked that too.” He shook his head and sighed. “I think I’ll give up for the night, though.”

“Are they all down here, now?” It felt like there were three-thousand people massing in the buildings, not three-hundred.

“Don’t worry, that was the last of them a couple of hours ago.” Brennan moved around the area, looking at the stacks of extra bedding and mattresses. “I’m a little sick of the crowds myself.”

Bryce watched him, afraid to look away for fear the flashes would come back. “It won’t be this crowded for long.” His own words took him aback and brought a quizzical look from the captain.

“No, they’ll spread out soon.” He glanced back toward the door, then turned to Bryce. “You mind if I bunk down here tonight? They’ve got me stuffed into a room with about thirty other guys upstairs.”

Bryce swallowed hard, but managed to shake his head. “No, I don’t mind.” He had no illusions of sleeping tonight anyway, not with those people waiting for the chance to force his memories back. If he had one ally in this confused world, it felt good to know he might be willing to stay close. And if the only man he could trust did turn out to be this captain, at least he was a trained fighter, still commanding the authority he needed to make people stand up and listen when he argued. Even if all that did was give Bryce time to run, it might be worth it.

Captain Brennan made a nest of sorts out of the bedding materials on the opposite side of a large crate, giving Bryce complete visual privacy in his corner. There was no way he was going to fall asleep, but he did get more comfortable on his own mattress, moving the computer completely off the blanket and pushing his legs under it. It was warm in the basement, but he was shivering.

Within minutes of getting the overhead lights off, he could hear quiet breathing coming from around the crate. “God, Five, what am I going to do?” Bryce’s whisper went unheard by the disconnected computer, and he was almost glad. His only companion for as long as he could remember, Five had been his sole source for mental stimulation, instruction, help, and all too often, suspicion and fear. Now he had other things to be afraid of, other things to suspect. But no one to talk to about them.

The only way he could calm his troubled thoughts was to find a focus. And down there in the basement, the only thing he could find to focus on was the totally alien sound of another person breathing. So mesmerized by it, Bryce didn’t notice the change until he opened his eyes.

“Good morning.” Captain Brennan was standing a few yards away, tucking a shirt into the waist of his khaki pants.

Bryce sat up quickly, shocked that he’d been asleep. “Good morning.” He couldn’t have slept very long, judging by the pounding of his head. “Did you find your . . .” What was it again?

“The control box, yes, I did.” He nodded to a small blue case on the floor near his feet. “Listen, it’s pretty chaotic up there today. Everyone’s getting settled in, rushing around.” He ran a hand over his very short hair then picked up a shoe. “I have to take the shuttle back up to the ship, give it a last go over, then set the controls to destroy it.”

Bryce nodded, climbing out of his impromptu bed. He’d figured this respite would be short; now he was on his own against the ones who wanted to make him remember. At least he had some warning now.

“I could use a hand, unless you have something you need to do.”

“What?” The hand pushing long hair from his face stopped as he tried to understand what the captain had just said.

Brennan shrugged. “Okay, that’s not entirely the truth. I can do this myself, but to be honest, I could use the company.”

Bryce weighed the options quickly in his mind while he looked for a clean shirt. Stay here, in the complex, and take his chances around people he knew wanted the truth no matter what, or stay close to the only man so far who’d made any attempt to protect him.

“Yeah, okay.”

The captain smiled. “Great. They’ve got the kitchens going full force upstairs. Let’s grab some breakfast and get outta here.”

After a quick stop in the one sanitary unit in the basement, Bryce followed the captain back upstairs, and into chaos. There were people everywhere, some hurrying around with equipment in both arms, others walking slowly, studying stacks of printed sheets. By the time they made their way slowly through the main building to the east wing where the huge kitchen and mess hall were, Bryce was sweating. He’d never known claustrophobia before, aside from the word itself, but when they rounded the corner and found the mess hall teaming with people, he’d had all he could stand.

“I can’t.” He stopped at the doorway, unable and unwilling to step into the room. The captain was going to think he was a child, but he couldn’t go in there. “I just–I–”

Brennan turned and met his eyes. “Do you drink coffee?”

Numbly, Bryce nodded. The noise of so many conversations was deafening.

“Go out the side door and meet me at the shuttle, alright?”

He nodded again and didn’t wait for another word before ducking through the side corridor and out. Fresh air hit his face like a slap, but his heart didn’t stop pounding until he was halfway to the large shuttle. There were people everywhere. In the buildings, in the courtyard, climbing the hills outside, talking, rushing, shouting, laughing.

He reached the shuttle and stopped at the base of the gangplank, breathing deeply to try to steady his heart. “Get a grip!”

“That’s good advice.” Brennan was a few yards behind him, carrying a tray and two cups. “But you’ll have to give it time.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Bryce leaned against the shuttle, getting his face into shade so he could see the captain approaching.

Brennan only nodded as he came up beside him, then offered one of the cups of steaming coffee. He set the tray of fresh fruit between them.

Bolstered by his silence, Bryce took a deep breath, feeling his heart rate finally settling back to a normal rhythm. He didn’t feel nervous around the captain, though he wasn’t sure why. “I used to dream about this, about people coming.” He looked at the ground and shook his head. “But it was never like this.”

“Dreams rarely are.”

Bryce sighed quietly, fingering the edge of his cup. “I should be happy to have people here again. Being alone for so long. But this . . .” He shook his head and took a drink. Maybe the captain didn’t understand. Maybe no one would.

“It’s a lot to ask.” Brennan’s voice was quiet. “You’ve had this place to yourself for ten years, and even if you dreamed about having people around, it’s never the same as having them.”

Bryce looked up, meeting the captain’s eyes in the shade of the ship.

“People are a strange lot.” Brennan sat back, leaning against the metal shuttle. “Individually, they’re okay. You can get to know them, maybe predict what they might do or say. But people, they’re a whole other animal. With people you get groups, cliques, sometimes even mobs.” He shook his head and gazed out over the complex below them. “The only way to deal with people is one at a time.”

Before Bryce could comment, the captain picked up a wedge fruit and held it up.

“So, how do you eat one of these?”

“Here, like this.” Bryce took the fruit and set his cup down. “You press here.” He forced his thumb into the base of the ripe fruit and pressed in, feeling the pit start to slide out easily. Once the pit had fallen to the ground, the round fruit fell open in his hand, revealing red and yellow splotched meat in perfectly formed wedges.

Smiling, Brennan reached out and took a wedge. “You didn’t show the botanists how to do this yesterday, did you?”

“No, it never came up.” Bryce put a wedge of the slightly sweet, moist fruit into his mouth.

“You should see the mess they’re making in there trying to get these things open.”

The next twenty minutes were the calmest Bryce had known in the past day and a half. They spoke of nothing but the different fruits and the different methods of eating them while he demonstrated, explaining the finer points of each of the native and hybrid edibles. The captain was pleased to learn how well coffee beans grew on Oblivion, and the ease with which they were processed. Cocoa was another plant that grew well in the valley, and while Bryce found little use for the beans, his assurance that the complex had processing capabilities for turning the bean into chocolate drew a satisfied smile from the man.

They had just finished with their breakfast when a buzz emanated from one of the pockets in the leg of the captain’s pants. He reached down and retrieved a small communication unit, flipping the screen up as he pulled it out.

“Brennan. Yes, Ben, I’m just about to go up.”

Bryce stacked their cups together and picked up the plate, now empty of all but various rinds and seeds. He could see Commander Alexander’s face on the small screen, but he didn’t want to hear what the man who had just interrupted his good mood had to say.

“Have you seen Bryce, Captain?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. Why?” Brennan glanced at him, then looked back down at his screen.

“We need to discuss what to do with him when you return.”

Bryce’s blood ran cold in the morning sun.

“Define ‘What to do with him’.”

“Now, I didn’t mean that to sound cold, Captain, but you understand what I mean. We’ll need to assign him to a group, or give him a job, or something. It’s for his own safety as well as the colony. Every member has a place, it’s how we keep track.”

Bryce felt his jaw muscles tighten. He’d never been one to clench his jaw before, and it was beginning to get sore. Keep track? It sounded more like being corralled to him.

“He’s got a place, Ben.”

“Brennan, I’m–”

“He’s my right hand man. I can’t run a security operation for three-hundred people by myself. That is, if he decides to accept the offer. I’ll let you know when he makes up his mind.”

The captain’s words were echoing around in his head

“Brennan, that might not be a bad idea.”

The face on the small screen glanced down as if considering the same words Bryce was trying to comprehend. If he said no, what would they do with him? Didn’t he have any say in the matter? No, of course not. These were the same people who wanted to force his memories back, regardless of the cost.

“Yes. If he accepts.” The captain looked up from the screen, eyebrows arched slightly. “It’s a big planet, I could use an expert on my side.”

The only thing he felt certain about was the danger he was in with these people. Danger that might be lessened if he stayed on this man’s side. Out of everyone he’d met so far, Captain Brennan was the only one yet he wasn’t terrified to be around.

Unable to find his voice, he nodded.

“I just got my answer, Ben. Bryce is with me.” Without waiting for a reply, he flipped off the screen and put the small unit back into his pocket. “Well, partner, what do you say we go blow up a ship?”

O Catscratch Tree O Catscratch Tree

How shredded are thy branches!

O Catscratch Tree O Catscratch Tree

How shredded are thy branches!

You’re dragged around my house all day

Pine pitch in fur won’t go away

O Catscratch Tree O Catscratch Tree

How shredded are thy branches!

I moved out of my mother’s house after college, when I got my first job. Living alone for the first time was different, especially when the holidays rolled around, but it wasn’t bad – I was still close enough to drive home for Christmas. But in my apartment, I had to have some cheer, so I put colored lights all around the living room. At the time, I had no pets other than a hamster on speed (working at an emergency veterinary hospital kept me around animals 24/7). Then a year later, my sister moved in, we got a bigger place, and decided it was time to get two kittens.

Yes, like many of you we’d been raised with pets. And I was in the Veterinary field as a profession. I’m no newbie. So we found two of the cutest kittens in all the world – Legend and Fable. Months of happy kitten raising went by, and Christmas rolled around again. My sister and I realized we could buy a tree, decorate it, and even though we were going to drive home for Christmas evening (I had to work that day) we could make our apartment look like the holidays.

So we bought a tree. Just a little one, cute as could be. It stood maybe four feet high, and sat in a nice solid base. We put bulbs on, and lights – no tinsel because that’s too dangerous around pets. And our kitties – now about 5 months old, looked at the pretty colors in amazement.

That night, as we slept, they played. I think I must have gotten up about seven times to pick the tree back up. The next day, when I came home from work, I had to retrieve the tree from the kitchen. That night, I had an idea – take the tree to bed with me, and close the door !

BRILLIANT!

Fable could open doors, did I mention that?

It was an exciting holiday season, but they were young and the tree was too small. The next year, they were older, and our tree was a decent 5-footer. It lasted four days.

The year after that, we tried the opposite approach and got a 3 foot tree so I could lock it in the closet at night and during the day while we were at work.

Did I mention how Fable could open doors?

The year after that we tried to figure out how to hang a Christmas tree from the ceiling and couldn’t quite get our minds wrapped around it, so we put lights around the fireplace and called it good. And for years afterward, that was our Christmas decor. Lights inside the apartment. Then one year we moved out of the city and back to the town we grew up in, because I had a new job and my sister had always wanted to move back. Renting my father’s unused condo gave us lots more room, and we aquired two more kittens – Figment and Muse. That Christmas, the lights went up around the fireplace, and up this open-concept staircase in the condo.

Did you know if a 20lb grey and white cat puts Christmas lights in his mouth, you can see through his cheeks?

New Tradition: Christmas lights on the OUTSIDE only.

Those four cats are gone now, and we have two stray bizarro twins – Rumor and Secret. Rumor, the big fella, likes to drag things around the house. If he wants your coat, and it’s in the mud room, he’ll drag it to the living room. There’s a nice throw blanket on your bed? He’s pulled it to the kitchen. His brother, Secret, takes advantage of these feats and curls up in the coat, or the blanket, or the bra, or the panties, or whatever else his brother has dragged to where he feels they belong.

I haven’t seen a Christmas Tree in over 20 years!

I could have trained them, I am an expert in the field, after all. But really it was a nice excuse to avoid all the mess and fuss and disposal of a dead tree. We have a house now that’s ours, so we have trees in the yard we can decorate with lights and bird treats – we have archways and porches that we string with lights – we even have a timer turn them on at dusk and off at dawn. And we’re freed from the hassels of storing, putting out and putting away seasonal decorations.

Gone are those December nights, sitting around a beautfilly lit tree sparkling in the color of lighted splendor. Gone is the scent of pine in the house, mixing with the hot cocoa you’re sipping after a long day of playing in the snow. Gone are the long nights of wonder and remembrance, gazing into the antique decorations from holidays past.

Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On cometh the time for new ways and traditions!

What changed for you over the years? Have you made new traditions and cast off the old?

DISGUSTING!  

It’s not raining cats and dogs. It’s raining ELEPHANTS AND BLUE WHALES!!!

Today we’re trying hard to break the records for inches, feet, maybe even yards. As I sit here at work, performing emergency storm duties, I’m hearing the only route home is flooded and closed. Joy to the World.

I picked a fine day to not bring enough food.

Last night we lost power – which sucked because you can’t write by candle without burning your hair, or your pages, or your retinas. All I could do was sit there and contemplate my plot, which was helpful, I admit. But I didn’t get Tin Man recorded! I set the DVR for a later showing, though, after the power came on – so I’m going to be biting my nails hoping the rest of the thing records before we go dark again.

/end whine. Thanks for listenin’ 😀

My Friday Thing. Chapter 1, disclaimer:

Okay, just so we’re clear, this story is being posted a chapter at a time every Friday – this novel is being put here because it CANNOT be offered up for publication, dig? It has no First Rights left. That’s because when I wrote this 10 years ago, I put it on a web fiction site. It’s been read, it’s been downloaded, it’s a done deal. And I say this for the benefit of any young writers out there thinking this is a really cool thing to do with their debut novels.

Don’t. If you’ve written something good enough for publication, don’t show it to the world like this! I’m doing so because this novel is not good enough for publication – it served a fantastic purpose for me at the time, and I’ll forever think fondly of it because of that. But I will never post original, never-before-seen, intended for sending to an agent fiction on the blog.

And again, I’m just doing this for the helluvit. I don’t expect comments or replies or anything, so no worries. It might be fun for some to see where I was as a writer 10 years ago. It might be fun for some to read this and think “Damn, she really does suck!” And it might be fun for some to while away the minutes in the bathroom. And if it’s no fun for you, I’ll trunicate each post like this *crosses fingers that this works* Oh, and one more thing – there are 22 chapters. You won’t see The End until April 24th!

Continue reading “Friday Chapter #1”

By the prickling of my thumbs,

Castle Debacle hast this way come!

Err, well – it’s here.

And my Friday Thing is coming. It’s coming! Get off my back!!  *ahem* It’s coming.

Not to be confused with “the Friday thing”.

Here’s where I make excuses for what’s going to happen every Friday on this bloggie here, so all my peeps won’t judge me as harshly as they have every right to. This is where I go on and on about how I started writing so long ago, before anything like ‘rules’ and ‘cliches-to-avoid’ became a part of my vocabulary.

In this post I explain how green I was, even a mere 10 years ago, as to the publishing world and my own burgeoning talents. (this is also where I confess that I can’t spell burgeoning, and Spell Check offered up bludgeoning). I’m not sure which is more apropos. This is all called: Making Excuses 😀

Okay, so what’s this all leading up to, you ask?

Well, Lori made me do it. But we can blame Pete, since he wasn’t even in the room when Lori made me agree to do it.

And to hear Lori tell the story, she’ll say it might have been her idea but all she had to do after that was sit back and chuckle at me as I came up with twenty-six and one half reasons not to do it when what I was really saying was “Sure, heck, I’d love to – just help me talk myself into it.”

“Just tell us, for cryin’ out loud!”

Fine. Whatever.

Back in the days of my youth (ten years ago, or something) the fiction I was writing in my very first ever attempts to write original fiction and show it to people, was put out on the interwebbies for download. Now, understand, I was never paid for it. See, I figured back then no one would ever pay to read a novel that wasn’t available for purchase at Barnes & Noble! And they’d sure as hell never pay to read anything I wrote. I mean lord, I was a nobody, completely lacking in talent and credits.

So what I did was allow this novel to be downloaded for free. And that suited me at the time. After all, I was doing what made me happy – writing original fiction, whiling away the days entertaining myself and discovering this true love and passion for storytelling.

Then the emails started rolling in. I was watching my numbers grow – seeing how often the novel was being downloaded – and it surprised me greatly. A website that tracks fiction posted on the ‘net for reader download listed me, then I won some awards from them – all meaningless in the real world. Then the – what I like to call fan mail – started coming in.

It still comes in, actually, to this day, from people who somehow wind up with a copy of the file that some friend emailed them. I don’t mind it, mind you – this is a novel that can’t be published and never would have made the cut anyway. But that mail was surprising me.

Nearly everyone was asking if I had published books out, because they would pay to read more of my work.

Well first you could have knocked me over with a light, wispy-like thing that birds use to attain flight. Second, I was doing the ol’ head-desk after that, on account of the fact that they hadn’t paid to read me. And yes, it occurs to me they were lying, but we all like to be lied to now and again.

“Get to the POINT, for the love of poodles!”

Okay, okay. Sheesh. What I’m trying to impart here is that, starting this Friday if I can get my shitzu together, I’m going to take this big huge epic opus thing (it’s 240,993 words – I shitz you not) and post it, one chapter at a time, every Friday. It’s been so long since I’ve looked this novel over, I kept forgetting – and was telling people incorrectly – how long it was. I thought it was a 240k epic that I’d whittled down to a more manageable 190k.

Nope. It was a 320k Warts and Peas that I whittled down to 240,993.

Yeah, it even embarasses me. 😀

What do I expect to accomplish by doing this? Um . . . to have something I can call my Friday thing? I dunno. Why not, I guess. I don’t expect anyone to read it, I don’t expect comments – so don’t worry there. I don’t expect feedback. I will never ask you if you’ve been reading it, and I won’t sit around chewing my nails at having just shown how badly I can write when I’m not trying!  I really don’t expect anything. Like I said, I wrote this novel 10 years ago when I was still very green and stupid. And I already know this novel has fans, for whatever reasons, so I’m secure in the knowledge that – in its current form – it was able to entertain.

In fact that’s the only reason I praise this novel with a happy little sigh of satisfaction. It was the novel that made me understand how much fun writing can be, and it proved to my little pea brain that I actually can entertain with my words.

And I love that feeling.

God, I love that feeling.

Have I mentioned how I can obsess?

I can obsess. Over the stupidest things, like how this blog looks.  One template is wider, but has no banner. Another has space for a banner, but keeps doing stupid tiling things. Another has great width, nice colors, no banner.

GGGAAAAHHH!!!  Okay, I’m going to keep playing all day – till I either get this right or faint trying.  As much as I love the black, can you really see yourselves reading a huge LONG post in this color?