Dawn, The Planet by Sam Goldenberg - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

CHAPTER 7

 

Daylight lit the mouth of the cave when Monty was shaken out of his sleep.

“Monty, come quick. We need you. Jeff’s been hurt.”

He followed Syd to the latrines. Jeff was sprawled unconscious on the ground, his face battered, his overalls torn and bloodied. Gently, they lifted his head and upper body and pulled his overalls down to his waist. His chest and stomach bore multiple bruises and lacerations. Syd grabbed a towel and sponged Jeff’s face and wiped the blood off his torso. The wounds continued to seep blood.

“I came in to pee and to wash and found him. There was no one else here. I bet my life it’s that bastard Joe.”

Jeff moaned and opened his eyes. “They got me,” he whispered through swollen lips.

“Who?” Monty asked.

“His cronies, two of them. I wasn’t alone. The others cleared out as soon as they came in. They were on me before I knew what was happening.”

“The cuts on your body. How did they do that?”

Jeff tried to sit up. “I’m not sure. I think they used sharpened spoons.”

“Take it easy. We’d best get you over to the clinic. Syd, knock on Joshua’s door and tell him we need a stretcher.”

Jeff objected: “Monty, I’m sure I can get up. The cuts aren’t deep and my face will heal.”

Monty shook his head. “No, let Joshua see that you’re hurt. My guess is he won’t need much evidence to know what happened and who the guilty are.”

Rebecca and Syd came running in, followed shortly by Joshua and two Warriors with a stretcher. Rebecca quickly examined Jeff.

“The wounds need to be cleaned and stitched.”

The Warriors placed Jeff on the stretcher and, with Rebecca, headed for the clinic.

Other slaves came in to the latrine and stood around.

Joshua waved them away. “Did he tell you what happened?”.

“He didn’t see who his assailants were, except there were two of them,” Monty replied.

Joshua stared down at Monty. “I saw you and Joe talking the other day. He was angered with you.“

“Why would he be angry?”

Joshua grunted and left.

At the hillock breakfast, Monty described what had happened.

An angry Syd exploded: “The upshot of challenging Joe is my friend gets beaten up. Are we all going to get beaten up one by one, or do we do something?”

“What do you propose we do?” Thelma asked. “Give in?”

“Of course not. Now I’m mad.” He left his seat on the grass and stood in front of Monty. “What do we do, Monty?”

“For the moment, nothing. Let’s see what Joshua will do. There’s no doubt in my mind that Joshua will take action rather than watch his gold production drop because of intimidation. In the meantime, let’s make sure there’s always more than two of our group together.”

“But what can Joshua do?” Syd insisted. “He has no proof. You didn’t tell him anything, and even if Jeff identifies the two, it’ll be their word against his.”

Monty smiled. “This is not a court of law. Do you think Joshua needs proof? He knows who’s guilty.”

“I know too,” said Ernie. “I saw Jeff walking to the latrines and two guys followed slowly behind him. They didn’t look menacing and I thought nothing of it. They occupy bunks at the rear of the cave. Why don’t we pay them a visit? We’re seventeen men. We don’t have to fight them. It’s just to remind them there’s more than one of us.”

Syd was nodding vigorously. “I like Ernie’s idea. It let’s these bastards know we won’t take it.”

“OK,” Monty agreed. “But remember — no violence unless they attack first.”

The two assailants stood up and faced them as Monty and the group marched into the cave. Other slaves near them quickly left the scene.

“You fellas want something?” said one of them, smirking.

“Just a social call,” Monty replied. “My name’s Monty. What’s yours?”

“I’m Johnny and this is Tommy.”

“Well, Johnny and Tommy, one of our friends was beaten up today, and we’d like to talk to you about it.”

“Why us? We know nothin’. We saw nothin’. Isn’t that right, Tommy?”

Tommy nodded, but then the smug look on his face became a worried frown as he saw Joshua barrelling down on them. Monty and the group were brusquely thrust aside. Joshua smashed into both men with his fists, slamming them against the closets at the back of the cave. He punched Johnny hard in the stomach, and Johnny collapsed, doubled over. He hit Tommy’s face with a backhand that sent Tommy sprawling, bouncing off the cabinets as he fell.

“The knives. I want the knives,” Joshua roared. He pulled Johnny up, braced him against the shelving, and cocked his arm to deliver a blow.

Tommy sprang at him, something flashing in his hand. “You want a knife. Here’s a knife.”

Monty tripped him, and Tommy fell, still clutching the knife. Joshua lifted him up, wrenched the knife free, and flung Tommy against the wall. Tommy slithered to the ground.

“I want all the knives now!”

“We only had the one.” screamed Tommy.

Johnny stood up. Joshua slapped him across the face and punched him in the stomach. Johnny fell to the floor.

“I will keep doing this until I have the knives.”

“All right, all right,” Johnny whimpered. “They’re in my mattress.”

Joshua pulled both their mattresses off the beds and tore them open with his bare hands. Three silvery spoons fell out, one sharpened to a point.

Joshua pocketed the spoons. “Let’s go.”

“Go? Go where?” Johnny whined, struggling in pain to stand straight.

“To the digging.”

“But we’re still on rotation time.”

“You’re right,” Joshua agreed. “In that case, let’s go to the camp commander, and you can explain why you have weapons, and why you attacked a slave.”

“Why us?” Tommy screamed. “It was Joe who put us up to it. Let Joe explain.”

“Digging or the camp commander? You choose.”

The two staggered out and followed Joshua to the beach.

Joe and Hilda joined them at the pre-shift meal.

“Heard Jeff had some trouble yesterday,” Joe said. “I guess the other slaves resent you guys. We’re normally a happy family.”

“I feel sorry for you, Joe,” Monty said. “Watch your ass today. Tommy told Joshua who put them up to it.”

The smug look on Joe’s face was replaced by a frown.

“What’re you talking about. I had nothing to do with it.”

“I believe you, Joe. Thousands wouldn’t. I think Joshua may be one of the thousands. You can ask Johnny and Tommy when you pass their diggings. They volunteered for extra duty.”

His bluster gone, Joe stood up, his breakfast uneaten.

Joshua strode past the group, grabbed Joe by the front of his overalls and began to drag him away.

“Joshua,” implored Hilda, “Joe and I spent the whole day in our quarters. Joe didn’t talk to nobody.”

“You can both explain that to the camp commander. Johnny and Tommy will also be there.”

Noah came running, silver flashing in his hand.

“You were right, pappy. I found it in their mattress.”

“Good,” said Joshua. “You can also explain to the camp commander why you feel the need to harbour a weapon.”

“If you take us to the camp commander with these trumped-up charges, we’re dead. Is that what you want?” Joe pleaded.

“Getting rid of you would increase our gold production.”

“If it’s gold production you want, Joshua,” Hilda sobbed, “I’m sure Joe will oblige. Won’t you, Joe?”

Joe had the look of a man caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. “Yeah, sure, Joshua. Just tell me what you want.”

“Today, I want your gold sack filled and Jeff’s since he can’t work this shift. Afterwards, I want your gold sack filled each shift. And no more slaves get attacked. Do you agree?”

Joe nodded. Joshua extended his hand. As Joe grasped it, Joshua twisted Joe’s arm behind him, and pulled his head back. “Remember. I would like nothing better than to kill you.” He released Joe and kicked him hard as he walked away.

The second month of their captivity went by smoothly with the rhythm of their day echoing that of the first month. Working under the yellow sun was hotter. Some covered their heads with shirts and blouses, and all were relieved when there was one day of rain.

Joe gave Monty baleful glances but left him and the group alone. Jeff returned after two days, still showing the marks of the beating. His two assailants steered clear of him. The other slaves avoided both groups.

Rebecca spent more time with them. She would come after the post-shift meal and sit next to Syd. She listened intently as Syd described his education and university life. In order to prolong their meeting, the group ensured that Rebecca and Syd were never alone.

The Doctor joined them at one post-shift meal. He sat down on the hillock just below the path to Joshua’s house. His pale face reflected back the light from the emerging moon. “I so enjoyed our first meeting,” he announced, “that I have come for more.”

“But all we did was pester you with questions,” Alicia pointed out.

“Dear lady,” he protested, “I was not unhappy about your questions. In fact, I admire your desire to know. Few of the slaves have ever shown any interest. I thrive on discussion. That is the reason I value my access to the camp commander and others of our captors. And for the same reason, it was gratifying to meet a group like this one that had not succumbed to the depressing reality of our circumstances. Therefore, I have returned, and I am pleased to find that you are still maintaining your good spirits and your equilibrium. Now, it appears that what was meant to be a simple ‘hello’ has turned into a speech.”

There was a ripple of good-humoured applause.

“Doctor McCullough,” Monty asked, “do you have any idea how our captors get to Earth? You said once before that their system is not precise, but nevertheless they reach Earth.”

The Doctor stretched out his legs and leaned forward. “I must confess that I do not understand their technology. The only way I have of explaining it is to use an analogy. If you think of distance in space as a straight line between two objects, then Earth is hundreds, maybe thousands of light years away. But suppose space is like the following example. There are two men in a room side by side, standing on opposite sides of a curtain, 20 yards long. At the far end of the curtain is a mirror. Each man can see the other via the mirror and each would estimate that the other is 40 yards away. However, they are only inches apart if they could cut through the curtain. Our intelligent masters have found a way to cut through the curtain.”

“So what you’re saying,” Ernie said, “is that as we look out at a star, we think it is very far away. But if space is bent like a hair pin, then light from the star would bend around the curve as well and we would think it is coming in a straight line. If you could leap the gap in the hairpin, the star might be very close.”

“Ernie,” Thelma said admiringly, “you should have been a scientist.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Well, whether it’s curtains or hairpins, I think you get the idea. In science fiction, the bridge through the gap or the curtain was called ‘hyperspace’ or ‘wormholes.’ I bet some of those authors would be pleased to learn their concepts exist in reality.”

“Is there any chance Earth scientists might develop similar technology?” Syd asked.

“And rescue us? Not in our lifetime. Earth has made it to the moon and sent unmanned robots around our system of planets. But it is still a difficult and horrendously expensive effort. It will take centuries to catch up. Earth still uses massive explosive rockets to get space vehicles to launch and into orbit. Our captors’ machines rise quietly as high as they want before engaging their rocket motors.”

“Yes,” Monty said, “we saw that on our assignment to load the spaceship. How do they do that?”

“Once again, I don’t really know. From what I do understand, they treat gravity like a wave. Just as a prism can bend a stream of light, they seem to have invented a prism that bends gravity around the craft. The craft becomes weightless and a short spurt of air is enough to lift it off the ground and into the sky. When they come in for a landing, they energize the prism, and a jet of air at the top of the craft drops them gently to the ground.

“They’re very interesting, these Guardians and Warriors. They have this advanced technology when it comes to transportation and space travel. Yet in many other respects, they’re quite primitive. They don’t adorn themselves with clothing or jewellery. They feed by digging their tendrils into muck, so there’s no cuisine as such. Their gold mining method reminds me of the days of the gold rush. They spend an awful amount of time and energy on mining gold to beautify their cities. They have writing but it seems to be confined to scrolls of technical instruction and the Sacred Writings. Even their weaponry is conventional except for the lightning bolt gun that the Guardians have. There is so much that is contradictory in their culture and lifestyle that I would give my eye teeth for a chance to visit their home planet and to study them. Unfortunately, they are xenophobic when it comes to their home planet. No aliens allowed.” He sighed wistfully.

“Doctor,” Alicia commented, after a moment of silence, “I can’t admire them when I consider the slave conditions and the bleak future they’ve imposed on us. I agree with what you said earlier — given our circumstances, learning about our captors may be an acceptable pastime — but don’t expect us to get rhapsodic about them.” There were murmurs of assent from the others.

“I understand how you feel,” the Doctor replied, amiably. “I tend to get carried away on subjects that I particularly like. So please forgive me. However, let me offer one caution. Don’t let your animosity become confrontational — you cannot win and you will make it difficult for everybody else. They can be quite ruthless if they feel threatened, and they may punish not only the person at fault but anyone else they consider to have helped. On the other hand, if you play by the rules and perform to their liking, you may find yourself — like Joshua and his family and me — the recipient of favourable treatment.”

“We know our captors are powerful. Do they have any weaknesses?” Monty asked.

“I can’t examine them, so I have no idea whether there are any physiological debilities. As I said earlier, they cannot swim and shy away from flowing water. They can’t walk through snow — their tendrils freeze quickly and they lose their balance. For the same reason of balance, they cannot wear boots. When they feed, they go into a catatonic state. I suppose you could call these weaknesses. But your real question is — do they have weaknesses you can take advantage of? I don’t know.”

“Has anyone ever tried? Have any slaves escaped?”

“From time to time, slaves run off but are soon captured or killed. There’s an apocryphal story about a couple of slaves who were never found and who escaped to a part of the planet our masters haven’t colonized. The camp commander says it isn’t true, but he would hardly admit it. He agrees they haven’t inhabited the whole planet, but they have explored it by air. Personally, I believe the two slaves are lying dead somewhere, their bodies undiscovered.”

“Doctor,” asked Ernie, “beside the Guardian city, there’s a much smaller dome — do you know what that’s for?”

“I’m not sure. My guess is it houses their energy source. The head Guardian was rather reticent about it when I asked, but he did let slip a word that sounded like electricity and then abruptly closed our meeting.”