Cpl. Nina N. Ferry
Pfc. Hayes Brandon
Lt. Romy T. Jones, special forces
Sgt. Jan Vandermeer
Spec. Kathryn S. Flanahan
Spec. Charles M. Ogden
M/Sgt. Zell T. Parham, security
Cpl. Quintan R. Witten
Capt. Jessica N. Sedgewick, confessor‑advocate
Capt. Bethan M. Dean, surgeon
Capt. Robert T. Hamil, surgeon
Lt. Regan T. Chiles, computer services
Civilian Personneclass="underline"
Secretarial personneclass="underline" 12
Medical/surgicaclass="underline" 1
Medical/paramedic: 7
Mechanical maintenance: 20
Distribution and warehousing: 20
Robert H. Davies
Security: 12
Computer service: 4
Computer maintenance: 2
Librarian: 1
Agricultural specialists: 10
Harold B. Hill
Geologists: 5
Meteorologist: 1
Biologists: 6
Marco X. Gutierrez
Eva K. Jenks
Education: 5
Cartographer: 1
Management supervisors: 4
Biocycle engineers: 4
Construction personneclass="underline" 150
Food preparation specialists: 6
Industrial specialists: 15
Mining engineers: 2
Energy systems supervisors: 8
TOTAL MILITARY 45
TOTAL CITIZEN STAFF 341; TOTAL NONASSIGNED DEPENDENTS: 111; TOTAL ALL CITIZENS: 452
ADDITIONAL NONCITIZEN PERSONNEL:
“A” class: 2890
Jin 458‑9998
Pia 86‑687
“B” class: 12389
“M” class: 4566
“P” class: 20788
“V” class: 1278
TOTAL ALL NONCITIZENS: 41911
TOTAL ALL MISSION: 42363
i
Day 03, Colony Reckoning
Newport Base, Gehenna System
The hatch opened, the ramp went down, and Conn looked about him…at stripped earth, at endless blocks of two‑man tents, at the shining power tower and the solar array that caught the morning sun. Beyond them was the river and on their left, the sea. From the origin of the river, mountains rose; and forest skirted them; and plains running down to this site, with forest spilling onto it from another low surge of hills behind the shuttle landing. He knew the map in his sleep, what was here now and what would come. He inhaled the warm air, which was laden with a combination of strange scents; felt the gravity which was different than the standard G of ships and a little different than that of Cyteen. He felt a slight sense of panic and refused to betray it.
The staff waited, solemn, at the foot of the ramp. He walked down–he wore civilian clothes now, no uniform; and took the hand of Ada Beaumont and of Bob Davies and of Peter Gallin…in shock at the change in them, at shaved heads and shaved faces, when the rest of the mission was now at least well‑stubbled.
“I didn’t authorize this,” he said to Ada Beaumont. Temper surged up in him; outrage. He remembered they had witnesses and smothered the oath. “What’s going on?”
“It seemed,” Beaumont said firmly, “efficient. It’s dirty down here.”
He swept a glance about him, at the sameness; at military officers converted to azi‑like conformity. Beaumont’s democracy. Beaumont’s style. He scowled. “Trouble?”
“No. My initiative. It seemed to create a distinction down here–apart from regulations. I apologize, sir.”
In public. In front of the others. He took a grip on himself. “It seems,” he said, “a good idea on that basis.” He looked beyond them, and about him–at the last load coming off the last shuttle flight, his personal baggage and less essential items, and the last few techs. He let his eyes focus on the mountains, on the whole sweep of the land.
On the far bank of the river rose grassy mounds, abrupt and distinctive. He pointed that way. “Those are the neighbors, are they?”
“That’s the caliban mounds, yes, sir.”
He stared at them. At uncertainty. He wished they had not been so close. He scanned the camp, the tents which stretched row on row onto the plain at their right…azi, above forty thousand azi, a city in plastic and dust. The earthmovers whined away, making more bare dirt. Permanent walls were going up in the center of the camp, foamset domes, obscured by the dust of a crawler. “What’s in?” he asked Beaumont. “Got the hookup?”
“Power’s functioning as of half an hour ago, and we’re shifted off the emergency generator. We’re now on the Newport Power Company. They’re laying the second line of pipe now, so we’ll have waste treatment soon. Hot water’s at a premium, but the food service people have all they need.”
He walked with them, beside Beaumont, gave a desultory wave at workers who had come out with a transport to carry the baggage to camp. He walked, electing not to use the transport…inhaled the dust and the strangeness and the unfamiliar smell of sea not far distant. In some respects it was like Cyteen. There was a feeling of insulation about him, a sense of unreality; he shook it off and looked about him for plant life that might prove to his senses that he was on an alien world–but the earthmovers had scraped all that away. There were only the azi tents, all of them in neat lines stretching away into the dust; and finally the camp center, where earthmovers dug the foundations for more plastic foam construction, where dome after dome had already sprung up like white fungus among the tents, one bubbled onto the next.
They were thirty six hours into the construction.
“You’ve done a good job,” he said to Ada Beaumont, loudly, amends for the scene at the ramp, in which he had embarrassed himself. “A good job.”
“Thank you, sir.”
There was caution there. In all of them. He looked about him again, at the entourage of department heads who had begun to follow them, at others who had joined them in their walk into the center of the camp. “I’ll be meeting with you,” he said. “But it’s all automatic, isn’t it? Meetings aren’t as important as your building and your job schedules. So I’ll postpone all of the formalities. I think it’s more important to get everyone under shelter.”
There were nods, murmurs, excuses finally as one and another of them found reason to move off.
“I’d like to find my own quarters,” Conn said. “I’m tired.”
“Yes, sir,” Beaumont said quietly. “This way. We’ve made them as comfortable as possible.”
He was grateful. He squared his shoulders out of the slump they had acquired, walked with her and with Bob and Gallin in that direction. She opened the door of a smallish dome bubbled onto the main one, with a plastic paned window and a door sawed out of the foam and refitted on hinges. There was a bed inside, already made up; and a real desk, and a packing mat for a rug on the foamset flooring.
“That’s good,” he said, “that’s real good.” And when the company made to leave: “Captain. Can I talk to you a moment?”
“Sir.” She stayed. Bob Davies and Pete Gallin discretely withdrew, and the reg who had brought some of the luggage in deposited it near the door and closed the door on his way out.
“I think you know,” he said, “that something’s wrong. I imagine it bothered you–my not being down here.”
“I understand the procedure calls for the ranking officer to stay on the ship in case–”
“Don’t put me off.”
“I’ve had some concern.”
“All right. You’ve had some concern.” He took a breath, jammed his hands into his belt behind him. “I’ll be honest with you. I reckoned you could handle the landing, the whole setup if you had to.–I’m feeling a bit of strain, Ada. A bit of strain. I’m getting a little arthritis. You understand me? The back’s hurting me a bit.”