Children Of Orion
by Robert Ipcar

N'ayu...

A solitary crimson planet bathed in the time warp of a Neutron Star...

With the arrival of survivors from the Colony Ship Orion, a centuries old pact between the Wai'min hunters and their humanoid Mateek counterparts is abruptly shattered. The age of innocence comes to an abrupt end for T'Nahla, a young Wai'min woman on her coming of age trek, as it does for virtual-gladiator, Jayson Lynn, who yearns to free himself from the militaristic society which has followed him to these uncharted shores.

For Life Systems Officer, Zyaina, the Colony's rigid code of caste and discipline will no longer provide a convenient hiding place: love, family and purpose once more eluding her. She begins to have premonitions, dreams of strangely familiar people who treat her as someone yet to be. But it's beside a Mateek campfire that she will discover her answer, an answer which will brand the beckoning Colony more alien than the hostile world upon which she finds herself.

For Zyaina, the age of innocence is about to begin!

Author: Be sure to check out the teriffic Writer's Digest Review in the left hand panel. And check out some excerpts from Book One. Always open to feedback!

Meet Zyaina, Jayson & T'Nahla....

Zyaina...
Chapter One

"Time’s running out, Lieutenant!" Mishaa’s brusque order caught Zyaina off guard. She had begun to take his silent brooding for granted. "Roll it over. We'll need an update!"

Suppressing her agitation, she unceremoniously reached across the Acting Commander’s arm, her fingers settling into the shallow indentations beneath the locator hood. The keys warmed to her touch with a faint aural chime, allowing her to deftly manipulate the shimmering holo which floated in the indigo hemisphere above their work station—the Colony Ship's Life-Sci theater.

Zyaina risked a sideways glance while she waited for the wire frame rendering of the single planet solar system to sequence. Was he wearing someone else’s clothing entirely? The oversized pinstriped Flight Service trousers had been sloppily bloused over officer-issue gilded boots. From God knows where he had obtained what looked like a canvas hunting parka, unbuttoned to the waist to reveal an equally soiled sweatshirt beneath.

The stubble of red growth on his chin gave him the appearance of some homeless beggar beside a Martian canal rather than the Orion's commanding officer though she had to admit that it somehow accented his stubbornly handsome features. Not wearing insignia pips was totally against regs; still who among the crew had had any sleep these past thirty hours? Undoubtedly she too looked a mess; bags under her eyes, anxiety driven sweat caking her hairline! She'd give her kingdom for a hot shower.
What was left of her kingdom...

The image display shifted perspective, the false color modeling engulfed by a sweeping rendition born of breathtaking reality. A crimson planet with pale violet rings materialized, a sparkling world framed by a wall of spiraling star clusters. The probe view portrayed a far distant sun, its sphere more resembling a darkened disk than a true source of heat and light. Gaseous plumes buffeted its charcoal body, curling rain shower wisps that emanated from some vanishing point of ominous nothingness. Even as Zyaina watched, these sinuous streamers took on a harsh silver edge, bursting into metallic flames—twin electric halos fanned by an invisible force that defied all imagination.

"Neutron star," she declared, anxious to gauge his reaction.

"Brink of Hell you mean! Yet that planet supports life." Mishaa's gaze never wavered from the probe display. His complexion looked waxy, unhealthy, his face far too thin. The elder Mishaa, his father—the "Old Man" as he'd been affectionately known to his flight—had been a robust, outgoing, bear of a presence. His son shared only one physical—the red hair!

Still he looked to be about her age...
Twenty one, maybe twenty three at most?

Zyaina involuntarily glanced into the hood of her NAV display, ignoring the coral stream of updates that relentlessly winked across the crystalline screen within. She attempted to scrutinize her own reflection, the dim outline of her face lurking within the ever-shifting tri-dimensional plots and sub-texts. Only her blonde curly hair appeared with any detail, the remainder of her countenance a dark mask, featureless...

A mirror of her future?

"Neutron Star!" she repeated. "What we’re seeing is the first luminescence to escape a disintegrating black hole. They’re notoriously unstable as a rule—liable to flare up in a split second, lasting a minute or a millennium in duration. This one’s tearing itself apart into a kind of double helix. It’s spewing out everything trapped within; a celestial release of time as well as light..." She was lecturing...

"You’re saying that the event horizon has broken down?"

She started at Mishaa’s question.
Was he finally coming alive?

"Yes, if you define event horizon as that point where matter entering a black hole disappears. Here we’re obviously dealing with matter that’s flowing back out, matter that was formally trapped. Those streamers were probably stripped from a binary companion; quite possibly that honeycombed red hulk off to the planet’s right—the biggest of the three moons?"

"This planet we’re looking at could be a candidate as well. Those rings are a dead giveaway."

It was her turn to stare...

"It would have needed time to cool off—evolve a suitable atmosphere," he added.

Back in mankind’s home solar system, the largest of the gas planets had once been a binary companion to some long ago imploded neutron star. To take his logic a step further, the planet and its reddish moon might have been binary companions as well, miniature though they be. Perhaps both had fallen victim to this double helix star, striped of all solar plasma in literally one breath...

"Jupiter had a similar history," she offered. "Venus was considered a true planet right up until the twenty second century when stellar track tracing was made possible. It was proven to be a former comet."

Mishaa shrugged...

"Immanuel Velikovsky’s old theory. Life might prove real interesting if we manage to get everyone safely down to the surface—prime real estate with a time warp view."

It was said without a trace of humor but it was he who now stole a glance, looking for some sign of affirmation. "Our neutron star is a big cue stick as far as that planet is concerned. Most likely it will be pushed to the outer reaches of space as soon as those superluminals expand."

His knowledge was proving intriguing...

Superluminal gas jets were normally associated with accretion disks, rotating gaseous rings spiraling about a black hole, their plasma drawn from a nearby companion star. While accretion disk material would eventually be swallowed by an active black hole, superluminals shot outward, their apparent velocity exceeding the speed of light. Indeed this lone orbiting planet would be in grave danger should this neutron star accelerate its mass....

"We're talking about a planetary orbit of some thirty six point four eight astronomical units— bit further out than Neptune," she rattled on, hating her compunction to tie up loose ends. "A year would equal; let’s see..." she quickly scanned the remaining data, "... about a hundred and forty five Old Terra years. Wonder if they have seasons?"

There were similar long orbit planets on record which maintained periodic variations in axis, changing seasons quite nicely throughout their track about the sun. Too bad the probe had inexplicably malfunctioned...

Stop it, she ordered herself.

Zyaina stabbed at the keys, the luminous image above them abruptly growing by a factor of ten; increasing to full fifteen meters in diameter. Two massive continents dominated the planet's Northern Hemisphere, landmasses connected by an archipelago of brownish-green islands awash in a red ocean.

She let out her breath...

Somehow this magnified version seemed less threatening, even thankfully inviting. The desert and forest renderings could easily have been something out of the Virtual Geographics she had pored over as a child...

Zyaina renewed her concentration, again scanning the system-stats displays...

T'Nahla....
Chapter Two...

Jayson...
Chapter Three

“What are we going to do, Mally? Ben doesn't think the Orion made it into orbit. And the other shuttles? We were on alert status for hours. Someone else had to get down. Why aren't they communicating with us?”

“The Orion disintegrated, didn't it?”

Startled, they both swung around to see the patient sitting up.

“Well, well, you reporting for duty, Son?”

Jayson grinned tiredly, then winced in pain as he shook his head. “That was the meanest bit of flying I've ever seen,” he began. “Better than the vids: Astrum Hodges, Tera-Dal and even Yeager of the 20th century. You beat them all, Sir, I mean, Commander... I...” He squinted at Mally's collar, trying to count the anchors on her scarlet lapel patch. She was Captain 3rd Class.

Mally tried not to grin.

“Me against Tera-Dal, hero of the Gordonian revolt? Hell, why not! What's your name, Son? And what Castus are you? Your ID implant seems to have been erased.”

Zyaina rose to his defense. “We were exposed to a high dosage of ultra violet back there, Mally...”

Jayson sat up, swinging his legs onto the deck. His hand automatically went to the base of his neck. The small ID plate that everyone received at birth was still there. He felt confused.

“Jayson, Sir, Jayson Lynn. I... it couldn't be erased!” He swayed at the effort, his thoughts leading him as he put one hand out to grasp the bulkhead. “I mean it’s a crime to erase your ID...”

Both Zyaina and Mally looked him up and down curiously. He was tall, blue eyed, muscular in an athletic sort of way. His long black hair was tied back with a silver clip, as was the fashion among younger men of lower Castus.

Mally grinned...

Someone had mashed his nose in sometime back, though it nonetheless suited his looks - the benefits of a good bar fight. He was definitely a lady-killer; probably knew it.

“I'm Mally, Mally Kerry. And this here's Lieutenant Zyaina, no first name needed. She's our Life-Systems specialist but during our stay down here, she's also our self-appointed medical officer as well. How old did you say you were?”

Jayson barely heard her.
Where were they?

He remembered the shuttle plowing through trees. There was a river. He remembered floating through water... tied to something. And then it was night. Silent lightning had slashed continuously across the heavens... green moons crashing into a giant red one...

Or was it all just a hallucination?

“Sir, I'm eighteen... Muzhik Castus, Forth Class!”

“Sweet Sancho’s ass! As useless as hind legs on a Syrian Water Griffin!” exclaimed Zyaina. “Mally, those Forth Class slots are make work! They change the sponge chamois in the heads...”

A hard look from Mally cut her off.

“Filing! I was in old man Bershjider's section,” Jayson exclaimed. “Records & Logs; historical data! But I'm also a Dallist Free Fighter with a secondary in swordsmanship. I was trained by General Kaodah's personal Master-at-Arms. We're facing the unknown out there. You'll need me!”

Zyaina looked to Mally with an ‘I told you so’ expression.

“Well, Son,” Mally managed to drawl, “that's a mighty convincing speech, though a moment ago I would have figured you for being a might older. Still as you say, it would be damned handy to have some reinforcements around here.” With a sigh, she turned to leave, giving Zyaina's arm a light tap in passing. She paused once more in the doorway.

“Look, Mr. Lynn. This afternoon I plan to take the Onrust down river provided we can slap a few patches on her hull. My feeling is that if we hang around here much longer, we're all going to start feeling sorry for ourselves. We might as well get on with the full tour.”

“Can I go with you?”

Again she grinned.

“If you get a better offer, Son, you just let me know. Meanwhile I suggest if you're able to walk, that you come along over to the shuttle. We'll have a go at figuring out just where you'll fit in. I've got a few more questions for you, when I get the time... about those macro-bytes you're lugging around?”

She drew back the entrance panel and departed into the rain.
Jayson rose to take a step after her, then staggered, barely catching himself. Zyaina sprang from her seat and threw an arm around him. She settled him back on the bunk.

“Let me give you something first now that you're awake. I took care of that burn on your arm, but with your ID erased, I couldn't risk anything internal - not while you were nodding in and out. You took a Hell of a crack on the head when you came aboard as well.”

“Are you really a doctor?” They were on a new world! No one would care what Castus he was anymore. “How long have I been unconscious? Where are we?”

“Here, shut up and take this - it's a 342! You're not allergic to any medications, right?” She dropped a sticky silver pellet into his hand. “Settle your balance. They work fast.”

“Where are we?” he repeated. She leaned back against the ration locker, regarding him with a frown.

“Camped out on a river bank for the moment. We came down yesterday afternoon. It's early morning now. Just where, on what planet, we're not sure.”

“No, where are we? In here! This isn't the shuttle...”

She smiled faintly. “This is what we refer to as an escape pod. It was designed for zero gravity crew ejection. We’re lucky we didn’t lose it to the current. It popped off during the landing. We managed to float it in to shore.”

He digested her information for a moment as he glanced around the cramped compartment. There were three bunks on either side fitted into the curved bulkhead, and several banks of what looked like communication equipment. Somehow it resembled his own quarters back on the Orion; the colors were the same dull greens and beige.

He was beginning to feel ill... the medication. His stomach heaved momentarily. Damned if he'd throw up in front of her. He had to keep talking.

“There was a rumor that someone, some group tried to seize the Bridge,” he began, forcing himself to speak, “that the Military were battling among themselves.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Bershjider requested some help from Devereaux himself but Kaodah's men intercepted us first. I think the Military are divided against one another.”
That's what Mishaa had implied, she thought.

Certainly the story which had been leaked to the Colony after the Military's clamp down was ludicrous by any standards. That the Orion had collided with an asteroid was about as likely as three week's shore leave!

“Your version is just as believable as anyone's, Lynn; not that it makes any Goddamn difference now.”

“Where did you say we were?” After that fire aboard the shuttle, he was determined not to get into an argument. What was the matter with her anyway?

At least she appeared thankful for the question.

“Our last checkpoint was what's charted as Henson's Cluster - a small seventy five star system about a quarter of the way into the Great Wall. That's about as much as we could ascertain before the order came through to punch out.” Still Zyaina could feel herself warming by the second. She cursed her compulsion to lecture. “I can tell you what we know about this world however,” she offered.

He waited expectantly.

“We're on a Terran sized planet orbiting a collapsed neutron star. We’ve mostly a water world here with the exception of a northern and southern landmass - both occupying an area maybe a quarter bigger than North America. The days run a bit under twenty six hours. And there are twin rings, violet in color, at least from outer space.”

“We saw a red ocean coming in, didn't we?”

“Right, and we've got two small moons, both green in color as well as a sizable red one. But it's really the neutron star we’re orbiting that’s curious... what's left of it anyway. It may have already sucked in its binary companion. Be interesting to see what it looks like when this weather decides to clear."

“I...” he started to say something more but decided against it. Neutron stars were beyond his knowledge to say the least. Yet somehow he had to convince her, convince Captain Mally, that he was making a recovery, that he would be a valuable asset. This was going to be the chance of a lifetime; his chance to break free of the idiotic Castus system which marked him a dolt in everyone's eyes. He was aware of Zyaina watching him, her expression unreadable, waiting for him to continue.

“Henson's Cluster!” he mused aloud, “and a river... to where? I mean what a fantastic adventure this is going to be.” She wanted to shake him, shake some sense into him, some reality!

“Don't you get it, Lynn? We are L O S T! There are five of us left. The Orion is gone, G O N E! Everyone's dead and no one back on Terra knows!”

“Well, we're on our own then! Great! You're a medical officer. We have a ship's captain... Who else is here?”

“Goddamn unbelievable!”

She became totally exasperated.

“Do you think this is some kind of damned game,” she exploded. “Some drugged vid-quest? The Gig was the Old Man's personal shuttle but in emergencies, we were supposed to take the whole Twenty Five Section aboard. They were forty people with geology and civil engineering specialties. They never got into the tubes before the seals locked.”

And Ken's missing, the best Third, Life-Systems ever had. Ken had waited outside... It hadn't been Ken's job to rescue people. Again she felt the tears threatening. No way this guy would ever understand... He was just a child.
He didn't want to understand!

“Look, I'm sorry...”

Zyaina threw herself toward the entrance, anxious to get outside. The pod had become unbearably claustrophobic. She shouldn’t take it out on him. They’d need everyone now... “See if you're steady enough to take a walk. Mally wants us at the shuttle.”

He marveled at how fast her mood changed.

She swung about in mid-step and rummaged through a pile of clothing on one of the bunks, searching for something heavier than the jump suit he was wearing.

“Look, I'm being unnecessarily hard on you,” she admitted. “It's just that I'm angry at this whole situation. There were faces up there that were... special.”

Jayson nodded, afraid to speak.

Zyaina threw a rust colored sweater at him and produced a couple of rain ponchos from an overhead compartment. “Here take this. It's not exactly issue but it should do.”

She was tall, as tall as he was, dressed in a tan flight suit. While her bulky navy sweater more than hid her figure, the loose open neck made her look vulnerable somehow...
She certainly didn't act vulnerable!

Still when she wasn't angry, she was rather pretty. He was sorry they had met under these circumstances. She would be nice to take somewhere, just to talk to - perhaps to the rec-beach...

Zyaina donned her own poncho, sweeping her curly hair under the flared hood. She frowned slightly as she caught him staring at her, then quickly turned away. They stepped out into the morning; the entrance panels sighing shut behind them. Though the rain had let up, heavy drizzle quickly coated Jayson's face. There was little to see except for a few silver leafed trees and a row of yellow lights that disappeared into the fog, marking what looked like a path.

Curious, he turned back to the shelter. It resembled a huge blackened tablespoon lying upside down in the mud. Beyond he could see a bit of the river she had mentioned, its surface placid, devoid of any life. The air had an unfamiliar smell to it, decidedly... sour?
Was that the word?
Tangy maybe...

Having been born in orbit, this marked the first time he had ever set foot on the surface of a planet. He had come so far. The whole thing was disappointing...

“What's the matter with the air? It smells!”

She regarded him oddly as if he were some spoiled child. “That's called planetary atmosphere, Lynn.” She looked as though she was going to leave it at that but then seemed to relent.

“Come on! I'll fill you in as we go. For starters, that river out there is composed of salt water - like an ocean. That's what you probably smell. It could be that we're in an estuary, although we’re a Hell of a long way above sea level...”

Jayson hardly heard her.

Yes, there had to be more. He'd make it his destiny to leave his mark on this world. Hadn't his fighting abilities gotten him a berth on the Orion?

“... the shuttle's still on the sand bar,” she was saying. “She'll never fly again; hull integrity's breached. But she should be able to hover on magnetic levitators a few meters over the water. Mally's going to give it a try this morning if Clayt says she's ready. Clayt's our ship’s rigger. You know what a rigger is, don't you?”

He walked along, half-listening.
Finally...

He was walking on a real planet halfway across the Galaxy! A whole new world surrounded him: oceans, islands and even mountains. He would never have to contend with the sameness of the Orion's routine ever again, nor the endless, look-alike corridors and compartments which made up the Colony Ship. Yet for all that he could observe at the moment, he might as well be still aboard.

No, he had to be positive - not be like her.
The smell, the dampness - hey, he was alive!

They moved along the path, following the yellow work lights. In spite of the heavy drizzle there were huge insects darting about, swirling angrily around the yellow globes, some as large as his fist...
Something he'd only seen in the vids!

Jayson stopped suddenly, fatigued by the effort it took to walk. The clay on the pathway tugged at his feet. To his right, he could hear the murmur of water running, and something, something that called softly in the distance: a low repetitive double hoot which ended in a rusty cough. He took another step and began to slide. He reached out...

She caught him under the arm.
“Go slow. We can't afford to lose you too. You know the song...”

“I'm sorry?” he asked, trying to make out the river through the mist. Way off in the distance, a small dark object moved slowly through the water, disappearing between clumps of orange reeds. Only a faint disturbance was left behind, slowly fanning out, quickly absorbed into the mirrored grayness.

Had it been something alive?

“What song?”
“Forget it. You probably like that kind of music anyway... Come on.”
He ignored her sarcasm.

“Here we are.”

Still he could see nothing.

They climbed down an embankment, leaving the silver trees behind. Here Jayson found the walking easier; a stone and gravel beach edged by the fog shrouded river. Still nothing! Not even a sea shell!
Was he the first human to set foot here?

“... Onrust.”

He looked up.

The blunt form of the shuttle’s nose loomed over their heads, its gray surface scarred and pitted. Here and there, layers of ceramic matting seemed to have peeled away, leaving staggered rows of knobby round protrusions behind. Though the craft appeared lifeless, almost a fossilized wreck, Jayson could sense a pulsation emanating deep within.

He followed in Zyaina’s tracks as she ducked beneath one wing, carefully avoiding the black bulge that lay just outboard the wing root. He had seen what happened to those who accidentally made contact with those particular devices - at least in the vids!

Not that she had bother to warn him.

A hatch lay open, its interior bathed in a cold blue illumination. A short set of telescoping metal steps had been jammed into the gravel, stabilized with several loose rocks. The older man whom Jayson remembered from their wild descent - the mustached black rigger - stood just inside the doorway, looking very much alive. He gestured for them to enter.

“Saw you coming, so I opened up.” He eyed Jayson wearily. “Name’s Clayt; short for Clayton... Clayton Aarrst.”

.......................................................................................................

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