Pioneers: Part 5

PERSEUS SECTOR - 22 586 VULEPECULA IV -- 63 Solar Years Later

Enveloped in re-entry flame, the colony pod descended through the atmosphere. Like a giant fireball, it moved through the blue-green sky of the planet. Strange creatures looked up from the surface and watched it fall, then returned to the business of surviving.

As it crossed 2,000 meters of altitude, its orientation thrusters fired to put the colony pod upright. At 1000 meters, landing rockets fired, sending a blast of hurricane-force wind through the landing area. The pod’s final moments of descent were hidden in an expanding cloud of dust and debris.

The colony pod, 500 vertical meters of metal and composite, settled onto the surface of the colony world designated 22 586 Vulpecula IV, on the western edge of the second largest (Beta) continent.

When the dust cloud had settled, the pod’s braincore began the activation sequence for bringing the colonists out of stasis. There were 20,800 of them in total, but they would not all be awakened at once. There was a sequence to be followed. The last of them would not come out of stasis for another 210 days… about a third of 22 856 Vulpecula IV’s long year.

On level 84, a stasis pod opened. Its occupant, Adrian Bronstein, opened his eyes, and was immediately aware of the sound of wind and a need to vomit. He unstrapped himself from his pod, fell to the deck and puked out a cold, pink liquid that had stabilized his digestive system for the long journey.

He then drew in the first real breath he had ever taken, although he did not know it was his first.

There was a warm towel nearby, he took it, and wiped himself off. Then, he said his first words. “Mother, status report.”

“Arrival sequence complete,” the colony pod answered him. A screen was projected in the air in front of him, showing an external view. He reached into the locker adjacent to his pod and pulled on his clothes, thinking wistfully that it had been over sixty years since he had put them in the locker, although it seemed like only last night. He remembered the shuttle that had taken him to Chrysanthemum station, and that last wild night before he boarded the pod for its journey here.

Or was he remembering his last night at Ad Astra University, where he spent six years learning everything he would need to know to help establish a human footprint on a world 60,000 light years from his home on Balthazrr, where he had grown, where he had played groundball and cross-wickets.

He shook his head, as though trying to sort the memories. He remembered from his training that prolonged cryostasis often affected human memory; mixing up events was common. It was better not to dwell on it. There was a lot of work ahead.

“We’re here, thank God,” said a voice behind him. He turned to his brother, Aidan, pulling on his old battered flight jacket over the standard issue coveralls of the Sweetwater Pioneer Service. His hair was a mess, but then, it always was; although there were rumors hair still grew in stasis. His old aviator’s cap was tucked under his arm. That outfit must have taken a huge amount of argument to approve for transport.

“You didn’t think we would make it?” Adrian raised an eyebrow.

“Hate the idea of spending sixty years knocked out inside a machine going through hyperspace.” Aidan had been a patrol pilot with the Commonwealth Planetary Defense Force. Adrian remembered that somewhere in the lower decks was a scout craft; that Aidan would be helping scout the planet and establish the secondary and tertiary colony sites.

“Let’s take a look at this bitch,” Aidan said.

Together, they walked the cold metal deck until they reached a hatch. Adrian hit the hatch, which slid up upward. An outer hatch on the other side slid downward.

“Whoa!” said Aidan.

The pod had landed near a stretch of beach, rocks and sand spread for kilometers on either side. There were hills and woods beyond. Cottony cirrus clouds laced a brilliant blue-green sky where a single bright yellow sun peeked through. They felt its warmth on their faces and at that moment, it sank in; this world was going to be their home. They would live here, and they would die here. As pioneers, they would make this world whatever it would become.

“We made it, buddy,” Adrian grinned from ear to ear, and he and his brother shared a quick hug, followed by drawing back from each other with fists raised, a thing they remembered doing since they were little kids.

When they had finished admiring the view, Aidan pulled on his aviator’s cap and turned to get back into the colony. “Mother will be thawing out my wife next. I think she’ll want to see me when she wakes up.”