Terra Utopia, page 10
part #1 of Terra Utopia Series
‘You’re a Cossack?’ Lindy asked, impressed.
Sergei puffed his chest a little, ‘Terek Host. Voiskovy Starshyna. Lieutenant-Colonel.’
‘You never told me.’
‘Is not something we talk about.’
‘A Cossack. How romantic,’ Lindy said.
Ty groaned audibly. He grabbed his bowl of fruit and headed for the door. ‘I’m on first watch.’
‘Let us know if the beast returns,’ Sergei teased. ‘I’ll poke it with my stick!’
Ty didn’t respond. He wasn’t about to admit it to anyone, let alone Sergei, but he was scared. Not just of the cave or the ‘beast’, but of everything about this planet. Even the beach and it’s inconstant sand. Something was just off about the whole place. As much as he thrilled at the thought of exploring it, for the first time in his life he dreaded what he might find. Ever since the incident in the cave he felt vulnerable. Last night’s encounter with the beast rolling the ship had shaken him. He was not averse to fear, having put himself in life-threatening situations several times in the past, but he’d never felt out of control. This persistent anxiety was a new experience for him. He needed a weapon of his own. Not a stupid sword, though. He could come up with something much better than that.
While the others continued chatting/arguing in the mess, Ty climbed the ladder to the bridge away from their noise. The banter was a good sign. Things were returning to normal. He just wasn’t in the mood for it tonight. As he looked out over the forest from the relative security of the bridge, the anxiety crept up on him again. He trusted the ship would hold together in the event of another attack, but if that happened there was precious little they could do about it. And a Cossack sabre wasn’t going to help much against … whatever was out there.
Fighting off sleep, his mind wandered back to Earth – to home – and again to that first year with Serra. He’d just returned from a mission rescuing a group of cave divers who got flooded in at Veryovkina cave in Georgia. Most of what the military did these days was civilian rescues or disaster relief, and there were plenty of natural disasters keeping most country’s armed forces more than busy. The war they had trained for ended up being with the planet and the consequences of climate change; any human skirmish was a good old-fashioned battle for territory and arable farmland.
Serra had been seconded to Pine Gap as an adviser on the joint nations space program (JNP – or Juniper). The job was ostensibly about planning outreach missions from Mars to explore the outer planets, but the big project was developing technologies for interstellar travel using the new aether-driven faster-than-light drives (strictly speaking they were not FTL drives, since the folding of space by-passed that whole paradox, but the effect was the same so that’s what they were called). It was love at first sight, at least for him. Serra took a bit of convincing. He admired how ballsy and confident she was. Even in a room full of mostly men all bigger than her, she managed to hold her own. No-one could beat her on the science; not among that lot. She was the first woman who truly impressed him. But the politics of the place was toxic. Not just the actual politics of so many nations vying for their piece of history, but the culture within the facility. Which is why they decided to both apply for the Syndicate’s privately funded Pioneer program. Ty figured Serra was a shoe in for the gig, but he was surprised when they also accepted him. Although she denied it, he was sure she must have put in a good word for him.
The more he got to know her though, the more he realised what a bundle of contradictions Serra was. Whenever he tried to be supportive, she accused him of being patronizing. But if he challenged or questioned her on anything, she would get defensive and shut down. He got used to dealing with two Serras: the public one and the private one. He didn’t understand why she felt the need to behave differently with different groups. Maybe it was because she was American. Maybe it was something in her childhood – something about her father, who she rarely spoke about. Whatever it was, he tried to support Serra no matter what version of herself she was being.
Of course, she wasn’t the only one who did this. Most people behaved differently in different situations. Ty couldn’t understand this. He took things as they came. Live in the moment. Why pretend to be someone you’re not? But then he wasn’t really a people person. Outwardly he could be friendly and sociable, he’d made a career of it. But he didn’t really like the company of others when it came down to it. He preferred to be alone. Like when he was at the bottom of a cave, a world set apart from the surface and its toxic inhabitants; or at the top of a mountain, where he could touch the sky and imagine flying away from the roiling planet beneath his feet; or like now, sitting in the dark of the bridge, watching the aurora of an alien sky.
As much as he loved this place, something was just off.
The solitude of the watch allowed his thoughts to meander from one thing to the next. Beyond Serra, and Whitehaven, and the strange path his life taken to lead him to this point, what he thought about most was: What would be a better weapon than a Shashka Sabre?
––––––––– ⦿ –––––––––
Sergei had his recurring nightmare again. This time the tank became the bear before mutating into something far more terrifying. A huge hulking beast with black fur and shining fangs and deep red eyes that drilled into one’s very soul. The beast stalked the shell-pocked road, passing collapsed buildings that sheltered cowering families. Young Sergei stood defiantly in the middle of the road, ready to confront the beast. It looked right at him. Sergei looked right back at the beast. For the longest moment they remained poised in this stand-off, like some old Western where the gunslinger comes to town and has a standoff with the sheriff. But young Sergei had no gun, and the beast was no Billy the Kid. It was his father. Returned from the war, ready to do battle once more with Sergei and his mother. Young Sergei slowly pulled back his coat to reveal the holster suddenly hanging from his hip. A warning. The beast smiled. As young Sergei drew his gun the beast pounced with lightning speed and –
‘It’s all right. It’s all right. I’m here. You’re safe ...’ Lindy’s voice soothed him. At first Sergei thought it was his mother, cradling him against her large bosom wrapped in a dirty floral dress. But as he emerged from the dream he realised where he was, and who was holding him. He clung to Lindy, digging his nose into her small breasts. Smelling her. Her scent always calmed him, just like his mother’s had. ‘It’s all right. I’m here. It isn’t real. It was just a dream. It isn’t real.’
––––––––– ⦿ –––––––––
Serra lay awake for the longest time.
She hoped reclaiming the charging cables each night would appease the planet enough for it to leave them alone. It was an uneasy truce if it worked, but at least it was progress. She felt close to understanding what was really going on with this planet but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She also felt that somehow Ben was a part of it.
In some ways Ben reminded her of her father. They were very different men, but they shared a common fatalistic view of the world. Both optimists, despite the prejudices they each faced. As a black man and a farmer her father was generally considered to be not very smart. While he didn’t speak much, he was supremely intelligent. A philosopher even; and a realist. He preferred to listen. That way he could discern what other people were thinking and avoid conflict. It’s not that he didn’t have opinions of his own or was afraid of confrontation. He just didn’t see the value in it. It came down to trust. At the heart of it he didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t family. Even then, it was a coin toss.
Ben, on the other hand, trusted too much. ‘Always give people the benefit of the doubt,’ he would say. Now that she knew he was religious, she could see where that was coming from. She found herself humming one of the tunes he used to play. She didn’t know what it was called, but the lyrics immediately came to mind:
Nothing is ever lost
We are stardust, after all
And after all is done
To dust we turn as we’d begun
There’s three billion beats in a lifetime
The tapping of the drum
‘I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other better,’ she heard him say. ‘I guess like your father, I preferred to listen than talk about myself too much.’
‘I used to love your voice,’ Serra responded. ‘I just wish I’d known you better. I think we could have been good friends.’
‘But we were.’
‘Then how come you never told me about your faith?’
‘It’s hard to say you’re a Catholic and you believe in God, when you’re knee-deep in a discussion about the nature of fundamental particles.’
‘So where are you now?’
‘Still here … kind of. And you’re right. The planet is aware of you and is … concerned with what you do.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I’ve been talking to it.’
‘Then why is it trying to kill us?’
‘It’s not trying to kill you exactly, but it is defending itself.’
‘Can you tell it we mean no harm.’
‘It knows that. Indeed, the only reason it exists is to protect you.’
‘Then why did it attack us?’
‘It fears change.’ Ben turned away, as if hearing something. ‘What?’ He listened to an unheard voice for a moment, then turned back to Serra. ‘Let me rephrase that. It objects to change. We object to change. That is, the kind of change you’re used to. Our natural state is less … rigid.’ Ben turned again, bending an ear to the unheard voice.
‘Is it talking to you right now?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did it say?’
‘It says: You must become like the trees.’
Serra blinked. ‘What does that mean?’
Ben was about to answer when again his focus was momentarily interrupted. ‘Are you sure? Why can’t I just tell her? ... Yes. I suppose you’re right.’ Ben turned back to Serra.
‘What did it say?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Can I talk to it?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘You’re not ready.’
‘Is it testing us?’
Ben saluted her quick insight with a raised eyebrow. That’s something her father used to do. In that moment he was both Ben and her father, and she heard her father’s voice answer: ‘Trust your instincts Serra. You are more powerful than you know.’
With that, Ben|Dad disappeared.
Serra woke. ‘We must become like the trees,’ she told herself. She needed to remember that. Become like the trees.
CHAPTER 9
⦿
Are you going to keep doing that?
Doing what?
⦿ Communicating with her in her dreams.
Yes. They deserve to know what’s going on.
⦿ They’re not ready.
No-one is ever ready. But knowing is better than ignorance.
⦿ They won’t understand.
I still don’t understand. That’s no reason not to do it.
⦿ I thought the whole point of The Separation was to limit yourselves. To experience emotion and ego without the burden of infinity. To be ignorant of your true nature so you can revel in the mystery of life.
That’s very poetic, but it doesn’t help.
⦿ Is this normal, communicating to someone through their dreams?
… It’s not not normal.
The beast did not return. The planet appeared to have accepted their compromise of taking back the cables each night, so the next day they rolled out the cabling again, adding yet more trees to the grid.
Ty knew what he wanted to make for a weapon, and immediately after breakfast called dibs on the fabricator to begin construction of a crossbow. The fabricator had several models on file. Taking all other features into account, he chose the most stylish he could find. It was built from magnesium-aluminium alloy, stainless steel, and carbon-fibre pieces. It was also the most powerful and portable, with short limbs, a longer draw length for extra power, and a quick reload mechanism. All from just three easily assembled pieces. The sintering of the metal parts would require the most energy and take the longest.
While he was waiting for the process to complete, Lindy joined him in the fab room and casually sat next to him. ‘What you makin’?’
‘A crossbow.’
Lindy thought about this for a moment, hummed approval, but said no more.
‘Did you want to make something?’ Ty wasn’t quite sure why she was here.
‘No,’ Lindy said. Then fell silent again. They had never talked alone together, and seeing her without Sergei hanging off her was odd.
‘Did … you want to talk?’ Ty asked.
‘If you want.’
Then the penny dropped. ‘Oh, I get what this is.’
‘What is it?’
‘You’re here to psychoanalyse me. You want to know if I’m ‘coping’ all right.’
‘Are you?’
‘Of course. Sergei’s the one with issues. You should go talk with him.’ Ty regretted saying it the moment it came out of his mouth.
‘I do.’ Lindy was unfazed. ‘All the time. I just wanted to check in on how you were doing. How’s the head?’
Ty put on his reassuring voice. ‘My head’s fine. I’m doing fine. Really.’
‘Okay then.’ But Lindy didn’t go. Instead, she watched the fabricator as it built layer upon layer of the crossbow barrel. The only sound was the gentle hum and whir of the machine as it’s extruder zipped back and forth.
After several minutes, Ty felt the need to break the silence. ‘Where are you from, Lindy?’
‘Pardon?’ She seemed to have been genuinely lost in the meditative whir of the machine.
‘Where were you born?’
Lindy bristled a bit, as if she knew what was coming. ‘Busan, Korea.’
‘Then, if you don’t mind my asking, how did you get the name Kaplan?’
‘My father was Polish. My mother Korean. Although he was more a mix of Polish, Serb, English, and French. And she was Korean-Thai, and I think a bit of Philippino and Japanese if you go back far enough. But I was born in Busan, raised in Seoul, studied in California – Stanford – and worked in Denmark and South Africa before being recruited by the Syndicate. So asking where I’m from is a pretty open question.’ Lindy said all this by rote, without malice, but it was clear she was often asked this question and had a ready answer memorized. Then she added with a cheeky smile, ‘But considering we’re on an alien planet, I could just as easily have said I’m from the same place as you are – Earth.’
Ty responded in kind. ‘I’m from Sydney. English and Irish stock mostly. I’ve been all over too, more for pleasure than business though. When you spend your working hours in mountaintop observatories looking at the stars, it kind of makes you want to explore all the nooks and crannies of the planet you’re on in your spare time. It did for me anyway. Until I ended up working for Juniper, which is where I met Serra, and then the Syndicate.’
Lindy relaxed. He wasn’t racist, he was just Australian. Infuriatingly charming and artfully naïve. A man-child intellectual. ‘Is that why you went off the other day? You just had to explore?’
‘Pretty much. You’re the same. We all are. You just like exploring things up close.’
‘That’s true. I find biology endlessly fascinating. It’s always changing. Growing and evolving.’
‘Except ‘round here.’
‘It’s just different, I think. New world, new rules.’
‘So how does that lead to psychology?’
Lindy smiled – he wanted to talk. ‘It doesn’t really. I’m a physician. Psychology was a small part of that. I guess they figured it was good enough, at least for the short trip originally planned. But I’m a good listener. And I can keep a secret if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘Oh…I wasn’t thinking that. I don’t have any secrets. I’m an open book,’ Ty joked.
‘Of course.’
‘Sometimes too open.’
‘You’re an extrovert.’
‘Yes… I guess. Whereas you –’ Ty stopped himself.
‘I’m an introvert,’ Lindy admitted happily.
‘Right. So … how much do you know about dreams?’ Ty asked hesitantly.
There it was. ‘I don’t do dream therapy if that’s what you mean. But I’ve noticed my dreams have become more vivid since we arrived here.’ She meant Sergei’s. She never remembered her dreams.
‘Yeah. Mine too. So, what I was wondering is … Can a dream manifest itself? Even a daydream – like just imagining something? And how would that work?’
Lindy could see (smell) that despite his flippant delivery, Ty was troubled by the question. It was something Lindy herself often thought about, but never spoke of. Even to Sergei. She was a scientist, after all, and at the heart of all her work was a deep mystery. The very nature of life and the origins of consciousness. The link between mind and body. So she got where Ty was coming from. But manifesting dreams was spiritual hokum. Things didn’t work that way.
‘You’re asking me if you created the beast out of a dream?’ Again, she was thinking of Sergei as she said this.
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
‘Even here? I mean, this is a weird planet. So maybe – ’
‘No.’ Lindy was adamant. ‘I don’t believe this planet is trying to kill us. I don’t believe it has a consciousness like Serra seems to think. It’s alive, sure. It’s an ecosystem. But it’s not sentient. That’s absurd.’
‘But it heals. It knows we’re here and that we don’t belong.’
‘It doesn’t ‘know’ anything. It’s not conscious. And even if it was, that doesn’t mean it can magically manifest someone’s dreams. And as for the so-called healing, that’s normal. It just happens a lot faster here than we’re used to seeing.’
