I am sorry to say it, but I think the men are not very wise
when it comes to running the colony. I think we might have done better for
ourselves before. Yes, about half of them have taken on other tasks that they
were better at, but the tensions between the women have not resolved, and the
sabotage of the station is getting worse. I can say for certain it is sabotage
now, as well.
Natsuki and Fletcher, Ihsan and Bulus, and Yvain and I were all on an 8-hour gardening shift before Yvain and I split off to work on the filtration system with Yuda and Guo. When we came in, nearly all of the plants had been destroyed. A rotting pile of seaweed, lettuce, and cucumber mush – the remains of months of hard work and wistful dreaming – loomed at us from the center of the garden. The tiny, unripe fruit from the strawberry patches had been picked, as well.
“I suppose we’ll be eating nutritional loaf for a long time,” I said.
“I wonder if Ghadir can do anything with this?” Yvain suggested, softly and mostly to just me.
Ihsan was trembling. “This is not right, no one can decide the fate of 24 humans,” she said. Then her head snapped up, eyes staring at the spring we created with the old, rusted-out hydraulic system. “The fish,” she whispered.
“Someone is doing this intentionally?” Fletcher asked, looking around at all of us. I nodded, but spoke to Ihsan instead. “What do you mean, the fish?”
“Outside!” she yelled.
The bivalves. And the octopuses. I rushed into the main control room, where Zariah and Suharto were watching Vivien impatiently teach Dagon how to call the octopuses to pick up our barrels of water.
“I’m sorry,” I said, out of breath, “but I must use the control panel for a moment. Can you see the octopuses?”
Vivien shook her head. “I don’t think Dagon is calling them properly. There’s something off in his code.” Dagon shrugged and said, “It sounds right to me, Vivien, I’m sorry.”
I grabbed Vivien’s seat at the keyboard and panned our one outside camera around, staring deep into the unblinking blackness. Nothing.
“Vivien, call them,” I said.
“What the hell is going on, Aelis?” Zariah asked.
Eyes still keen on the monitor, I answered, “Ihsan has a hunch. Our garden has been massacred, our months of work worth nothing now, and perhaps the villain has hurt more than just plants.”
Vivien immediately called the octopuses. No response.
“Keep trying them,” I said, “I’m going to get Ghadir.”
Rushing into the kitchen, I interrogated Ghadir about how she harvested the bivalves outside.
“Aelis, what is this about?” she whined. Huge dark circles rimmed her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in weeks.
“Ihsan thinks our saboteur may have hurt more than just our vegetable crop,” I replied. Ghadir’s mouth dropped open, but she showed me the clumsy rig she used to gather the shellfish up and haul them inside. Scrape, scrape along the outside of Rabbah, metal versus carbon – but no results. She tried again, but there was nothing.
Ghadir began to cry. I could not stay to pat her, but took off in search of Yuda and Guo, who spent most of their time working on the filtration systems. I had a hunch, too.
Yuda and I nearly collided in the corridor, she also with a panicked look, covered in sweat.
“The garden?” she asked. I said, “Destroyed.” She nodded and said, “There was a stench. I followed it. The bivalves are … gone.”
“I knew it,” I said.
“They were left in the water filters. Near the end of the whole system,” Yuda continued. “It will take weeks …”
Our food is low, our water is tainted. I do not know how to communicate this. I think Kailash has spoken with the CEOs for us all, but I cannot say for sure. The days since the grievous sabotage have been a blur of scrubbing, cleansing, planting, bandaging wounds, and numb chewing. Chewing tasteless and spongy nutritional loaf. Only half at a time, two meals a day instead of three, to save our supplies.
The only thing we can offer in exchange for assistance is to find our saboteur and stop them permanently. But please, we need … everything.
Natsuki and Fletcher, Ihsan and Bulus, and Yvain and I were all on an 8-hour gardening shift before Yvain and I split off to work on the filtration system with Yuda and Guo. When we came in, nearly all of the plants had been destroyed. A rotting pile of seaweed, lettuce, and cucumber mush – the remains of months of hard work and wistful dreaming – loomed at us from the center of the garden. The tiny, unripe fruit from the strawberry patches had been picked, as well.
“I suppose we’ll be eating nutritional loaf for a long time,” I said.
“I wonder if Ghadir can do anything with this?” Yvain suggested, softly and mostly to just me.
Ihsan was trembling. “This is not right, no one can decide the fate of 24 humans,” she said. Then her head snapped up, eyes staring at the spring we created with the old, rusted-out hydraulic system. “The fish,” she whispered.
“Someone is doing this intentionally?” Fletcher asked, looking around at all of us. I nodded, but spoke to Ihsan instead. “What do you mean, the fish?”
“Outside!” she yelled.
The bivalves. And the octopuses. I rushed into the main control room, where Zariah and Suharto were watching Vivien impatiently teach Dagon how to call the octopuses to pick up our barrels of water.
“I’m sorry,” I said, out of breath, “but I must use the control panel for a moment. Can you see the octopuses?”
Vivien shook her head. “I don’t think Dagon is calling them properly. There’s something off in his code.” Dagon shrugged and said, “It sounds right to me, Vivien, I’m sorry.”
I grabbed Vivien’s seat at the keyboard and panned our one outside camera around, staring deep into the unblinking blackness. Nothing.
“Vivien, call them,” I said.
“What the hell is going on, Aelis?” Zariah asked.
Eyes still keen on the monitor, I answered, “Ihsan has a hunch. Our garden has been massacred, our months of work worth nothing now, and perhaps the villain has hurt more than just plants.”
Vivien immediately called the octopuses. No response.
“Keep trying them,” I said, “I’m going to get Ghadir.”
Rushing into the kitchen, I interrogated Ghadir about how she harvested the bivalves outside.
“Aelis, what is this about?” she whined. Huge dark circles rimmed her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in weeks.
“Ihsan thinks our saboteur may have hurt more than just our vegetable crop,” I replied. Ghadir’s mouth dropped open, but she showed me the clumsy rig she used to gather the shellfish up and haul them inside. Scrape, scrape along the outside of Rabbah, metal versus carbon – but no results. She tried again, but there was nothing.
Ghadir began to cry. I could not stay to pat her, but took off in search of Yuda and Guo, who spent most of their time working on the filtration systems. I had a hunch, too.
Yuda and I nearly collided in the corridor, she also with a panicked look, covered in sweat.
“The garden?” she asked. I said, “Destroyed.” She nodded and said, “There was a stench. I followed it. The bivalves are … gone.”
“I knew it,” I said.
“They were left in the water filters. Near the end of the whole system,” Yuda continued. “It will take weeks …”
Our food is low, our water is tainted. I do not know how to communicate this. I think Kailash has spoken with the CEOs for us all, but I cannot say for sure. The days since the grievous sabotage have been a blur of scrubbing, cleansing, planting, bandaging wounds, and numb chewing. Chewing tasteless and spongy nutritional loaf. Only half at a time, two meals a day instead of three, to save our supplies.
The only thing we can offer in exchange for assistance is to find our saboteur and stop them permanently. But please, we need … everything.
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