While they were waiting for the storm to blow over, Tarvos played some more entries from the Storyteller. It was difficult to hear the voice emanating from the small, black device above the sound of the storm and they didn't know that it was possible to make it speak louder, so the others crowded around Tarvos to get their heads as close to it as possible.
7.15pm Day 192 Janus year 31
Today we were united in grief by the loss of Edna Kajese, killed by a mudclaw. The creature ambushed her while she was collecting fossils from the Donatello shale beds. Vimbaye heard her screaming, but by the time he got there she has already been dragged under the mud and drowned. We almost lost him as well, to judge from the state he was in when we found him. He attacked the beast in an attempt to save his wife from the creature's jaws, using a rock hammer instead of his rifle which he'd left inside his rover. He only survived because the beast swallowed some of her blood and died within minutes. Human tissue is apparently even more toxic to the local predators than we thought.
Geirrod opened his mouth to protest, but Tarvos waved him to silence. They could discuss what the voice had said when it had finished speaking. They didn't want to miss anything.
Vimbaye was in no safe state, either mentally or physically, to drive a rover, so Tom and Samantha went out in one of the others to bring them back. Tom Declared her dead and treated Vimbaye's injuries. Then Samantha drove Vimbaye back in Rover Four while Tom brought Edna's body back in the other. I can only imagine what that five hour drive must have been like, but we talked to him on the radio all the way back in an attempt to ease his grief as much as possible.
Vimbaye blames himself for her death. We have a long standing rule that no-one goes out alone, but he was only a dozen metres away and he thought that was close enough. The mudclaw, an ambush predator, evidently took her by surprise before she could draw her taser. After all our years here, it seems we still haven't learned all the habits of the large predators and no-one needs to be told about the dangers of complacency.
We will be holding her funeral tomorrow and burying her beside Christer and Sebastian. We all hope that it will be a long time before our graveyard has any more occupants.
The next few entries refused to play, and Tarvos tried one after another as he tried to make the device speak again. While he was doing that, Geirrod turned to the others, looking confused.
"A mudclaw died because it tried to eat one of them?" he said. "Mudclaws eat people. One of our cousins was killed by a mudclaw, and was eaten by it. It didn't die."
Daphnis nodded her confirmation. "Does toxic mean poison?" she asked. "It does, doesn't it?" The others nodded, although without any great confidence. "The blood of the First Fathers was poisonous," Daphnis continued.
"That corpse we found in the iron quetzal hadn't been eaten by scavengers," said Fornjot. "It just dried out."
"If we're descended from them, why isn't our blood poisonous?" asked Geirrod.
Before anyone could answer him, the Storyteller began speaking again and they all huddled close to listen to it.
8.20 pm Day 85 Janus year 36
I had to order a third plane, the Tramontane, to be grounded today. Hans wasn't happy about it, of course. He said that he was prepared to keep flying despite the problems and breakdowns it keeps suffering. It's too important an asset to be lost, he says. Charles insists that the microfractures running through the frame are just getting too serious to ignore any more, though, and as he is the expert I have to listen to his recommendation. That leaves us with just one working plane, the Mistral, but with two others that can be stripped down for parts I'm hopeful that we'll be able to keep it flying for many years to come. Without it. the most distant outposts will be out of our reach and we will have to rely on tele-operated machinery to study the wildlife in those locations.
"Plane," said Daphnis. "Is that their word for an iron quetzal, do you think?" The others just shrugged helplessly.
"And they made them," said Daphnis in amazement. "The way we might make a spear or a bucket. That huge thing made of metal. They made it."
"They truly were able to perform miracles," said Fornjot. "As if the Storyteller wasn't proof of that already."
8.12pm Day 88 Janus year 36
The incident with the aircraft has set Hans on a new wave of anger and insubordination. He argues with me over every smallest thing and is gathering some of the others onto his side. I really hoped we were over this. For the past twenty years he's been friendly and co-operative, but it seems now that it was simply because he was able to do whatever he wanted. In the interests of a quiet life I overlooked the small incidents, but that seems to have only convinced him that I'm weak and easily persuaded. Was I only sowing the seeds for the problems he's causing now?
He wants to build another plane. He says that we can build most of it with the fabricators, now that the geologists have found sources of the rare elements we'd need, and that those parts that can't be printed can be manufactured in the machine shop. After putting considerable pressure on them, he got Charles to say that he's up to the task of making a fusion block and Alice to say that she can make a computer core, both tasks that I believe are beyond them with the limited equipment we have here. Even if they were able to build a working aircraft, I wouldn't trust it to carry one of us. Not even Hans. My life would be considerably simpler if he died when the plane crashed, but I'd never be able to forgive myself.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
My refusal sent him off on a new burst of protest and insubordination and he now spends most of his time either raging or sulking. His attitude is rubbing off on some of the others and they spend hours together plotting and scheming in the machine shops. I wish I could rid myself of the suspicion that he's planning a coup, but if he can get the majority to side with him he could just start giving orders and there's nothing I could do about it.
2.32pm Day 89 Janus year 36
I have just been confronted by Hans, Helga, Soichi, Robert, Vimbaye and Alberto who informed me that they were going to build the plane and warned me not to try to stop them. Charles and Alice were with them, not looking happy but not voicing any protests either. They told me they thought they could get it to work and that they were willing to try. Eight other members of the expedition, everyone who wasn't out at one of the remote outposts, just stood by and watched as they made their demands. Not one of them took my side. Not even my wife. She actually advised me to let them do it if that's what they wanted, so long as no-one else would ever have to fly in it. If they want to take the risk, she said, then let them.
I have never been so angry with her. With even her against me I had no choice but to give my consent, whereupon they immediately ran off to the machine shops to begin work. Hans can now do whatever he wants, it seems. I no longer have the authority to stop him. I have effectively been relegated from Commander of the expedition to record keeper. When I'm not at my work I will be documenting his mistakes.
"You were right," said Fornjot to Daphnis. "He was weak."
She just nodded as the Storyteller continued to speak.
6.45pm Day 23 Janus year 38 Eatth year 2360
Today is a historic day. Twenty five years after arriving on this world, the first messages sent by Earth after our departure have finally arrived. We all gathered in the communications room as the display came to life, and there on the screen was the face of Michael Quinn, the Director of Stargate Operations, looking exactly the same as when we'd last seen him a quarter of a century ago. He congratulated us on our presumed safe arrival, based on the fact that the implosion of the statgate had gone exactly as planned. A succession of other people, including children, siblings and parents of expedition members, then appeared on the screen, all of them offering their own congratulations and their jealousy at the great adventure awaiting us. It all seemed very strange to us when so much time has already passed for us.
They will also be receiving our first transmissions from Janus, and to them the situation will be reversed. They will be twenty five years older while we will look the same as when they last saw us. This will be the first time that they know for certain that we arrived safely. After a quarter of a century in which both we and the folks back in the Sol system will have virtually forgotten that the other exists, we are suddenly back on each other's radars and will be paying avid attention to the news from twenty five light years away.
Needless to say, we had a party to celebrate, with Hans naturally being the life and soul, still riding high on his success at flying the new plane. I tried to enter into the spirit of the occasion, but I still feel bitter about the betrayal, my removal from command, and in particular, my wife's part in it. Things have been rather cold between us, and we would probably have divorced if we were still back on Earth. Here, though, where it's impossible for us to put any real distance between each other, things have become tense and strained and we try to speak to each other as little as possible. She has started getting very friendly with Robert Curbeam and I keep wondering whether they're having an affair.
"Twenty five years for messages to go back and forth," said Fornjot in amazement. "Just how far away is the land of Zol?"
"And they could see the people in that far-off place," said Daphnis. "As if they were standing right in front of them, by the sound of it."
"Like looking in a mirror," Fornjot guessed. "Except they're seeing things that happened twenty five years ago far, far away."
"And they knew how to party," said Geirrod cheerfully. "Well, everyone except the bloke speaking and his wife. What was his name?"
"Cook," said Tarvos. "James Cook. Their names were as strange as the land they came from."
7.07pm Day 25 Janus year 38 Earth year 2360
Our work is getting a little neglected as everyone (myself included, I have to admit) pores avidly over news from home. After a quarter of a century in which our personal universes have contained only the 24 of us, we have suddenly been reminded that there are several billion other human beings out there, all busy living their lives and having adventures of their own. To my satisfaction, I've noticed that Hans has begun looking a little nervous and embarrassed, as if he's afraid that the Earth authorities might be angry at his actions and might somehow find a way to send security men to arrest him.
Having said that, though, I have to admit that he makes a far better leader than I did. Command comes naturally to him, whereas it was always something of a chore to me. Something I had to work hard at. The others like him, and his decisions have, for the most part, been good ones. Even his decision to build a new plane has paid off, allowing us to keep using the most distant outposts, something that would have been problematic with only one plane. People are happy to work thousands of miles away from the habitat knowing that, if one of the aircraft is grounded with mechanical issues, we still have a spare with which to bring them home.
The quetzals seem to be having something of a population explosion. They weren't too common back in the long summer, living mainly in mountainous areas, but suddenly they're everywhere, with flocks of hundreds crossing the skies every few days.
8.21pm Day 92 Janus year 44 Earth year 2364
Devestating news from Earth for William and Carol Malet. The entire family they left behind on Mars was killed by an explosion in the industrial sector of New Paris. Two children, three grandchildren, a brother, a sister-in-law and a niece. With the deaths of their parents before they joined the expedition, this means that Bill and Carol are now alone in the universe. They're both taking it hard, and the rest of us are doing our best to be there for them.
The fact that this tragedy happened twenty five years ago means nothing to us. To all of us, the twenty five years between arriving on this planet and renewing contact with home seem to have just melted away. Seeing the faces of my children on that screen made it seem as if I'd seen them in person just days before. I will be able to watch my teenage grandchildren grow up, get married and have children of their own just as if I was living on the same planet. I can imagine that I can hop onto a hyperjet and visit them in person any time I want. Bill and Carol no longer have that, though, and no matter what words of comfort we try to give them, there is nothing we can do to help them deal with their loss.
"Poor Bill and Carol," said Daphnis sadly. "Remember when Bergelmir's whole family was killed by groths? I was only little at the time, but I remember what it did to him,"
Tarvos nodded. "If making him Mayor hadn't given him new purpose, who knows what he'd be like now? A man in our tribe killed himself when his wife and children died from the fever. He still had a brother and parents, but they couldn't make him want to keep on living."
"But Bill and Carol hadn't seen their family for twenty five years," said Geirrod.
"Longer than that," Tarvos replied. "Years in Zol are longer than years here, remember? Doesn't matter, though. Some emotional ties can't be broken."
"So what happened to them?" asked Daphnis. "Play the next entry."
"Can't," said Tarvos, looking at the flashing red 1 in the corner of the Storyteller. "No more sunlight. That's all for now." He looked up at the sky, where the sandstorm was still in full force. "And we're not going anywhere for a while. Might as well get some sleep."
The others nodded, and they spaced themselves around the hole again where they could stretch out comfortably. Tarvos closed his eyes and slipped into a light doze.
