Governor Grenness’s brow furrowed. “This is a very strange request you have made of me, Captain.”
Brooks smiled, hoping to set the man at ease. “I mean no disrespect, of course. We are not here to steal your colonists – only ask if this particular individual would be interested in joining us.”
“That is not the issue,” the man replied brusquely. “What you describe is . . . well, we’ve heard of such mutations, but I always took them to be spacer’s tales. Humans touched by something . . . unnatural? It’s disturbing to comprehend.” The man’s face went into taut lines. “And you believe we are hiding such an individual here?”
“Hiding?” Brooks asked. “That is not at all our angle.”
“Yet you’re accusing us of producing an individual with this mutation.” The man’s face was still taut, anger roiling under the surface. “We may have left the home system long ago, but we have long memories, Captain. We recall the prejudice most had against us, against our beliefs. Even then you decried us as insane. Defective.”
Brooks kept himself calm. “No one is making that claim here, governor. Your system is not the only place to have people with this trait appear. There is no shame in it – but for whatever reason, it only seems to appear in systems on the frontier with relatively small populations.”
The Governor did not look in the slightest appeased. “Well, I assure you, Captain Brooks, we have no such individual like that here,” he said.
Brooks nodded. “Very well. It is unfortunate to learn this, but I would like, if you are still willing, to spend some time at your colony. If there are misunderstandings between us, then this may be the best way to bridge those problems.”
The Governor’s face softened, ever so slightly. Brooks took it as a good sign.
“Your visas are good for fourteen days. We will not renege on that, I do not expect officers of the Sapient Union to cause trouble in my colony. The only special rule you must adhere to is to respect our beliefs.”
“We will do so, Governor,” Brooks promised.
Leaving the Governor’s office, Brooks saw Dr. Logus waiting for him. The man looked calm, almost serene. Brooks gestured for him to follow and headed for the exit.
Dr. Logus did not ask him how the interview had gone, and Brooks did not offer anything; it was all too likely they would be overheard here, even if unintentionally.
As they neared the doors to the general colony, a man was waiting. He wore a ceremonial collar over his standard uniform, and held up a hand for Brooks to stop.
The Captain warily wondered if this was some sort of inspection or check – to try and impress upon them the Governor’s power.
But the man had his own calm and serene smile that drew trust.
“May I speak with you a moment, Captain?” he asked.
Brooks gave him a polite nod, and the man continued.
“I hope that Governor Grenness did not give you the wrong idea about us, Captain. He is an admirable man, but he is very protective of our colony. Our believers have much concern about outside influence weakening or disrupting our expressions of faith.”
Brooks nodded. “I can understand that. I hope to make clear that we have no intention of causing harm to your colony, however.”
“Of course,” the man agreed. “But intention and effect can be separate things.”
Brooks noted that; the fear of outside contact causing change just by its mere existence was an ancient tool of control. Sometimes it was a valid fear, in cases of extreme power imbalance.
Which was something of the case here; the Sapient Union consisted of over a dozen species across thousands of systems.
“Let us walk together,” the man continued, opening the doors.
“Very well.” The man led them down the steps outside. Like much of the rest of the colony, they were made of compressed regolith. The material may have been common, but it was used with more skill and artistry than elsewhere, giving it a regal appearance.
The administration building was in a style that was reminiscent of old terrestrial capitals; a large hollow had been carved into the moon, giving it an open feeling that the rest of the colony lacked. A dome and tower in the center gave it a quiet dignity, and the door was flanked by more pillars of compressed regolith.
The steps led to a small but pleasant garden, and the men slowed their stroll to enjoy it. Humanoid figures in throes of religious passion and fervor lined the area.
“Pardon, but may I ask your name?” Dr. Logus asked. “You surely know the Captain, and I am Dr. Arn Logus.”
“Certainly – I am Reverend Yem Hallus. I minister to our flock and help guide our people.”
The man offered his hand, and both Brooks and Logus took it.
“As I say, the Governor means no ill – but he is in a position that forces him to be cautious,” Hallus continued. “However, that does not mean he is wholly unwilling to help you. I understand that you seek an individual who has . . . an unusual burden to bear?”
Brooks felt his curiosity piqued. Was the Reverend really working at the Governor’s behest, or was he simply trying to smooth over a potential problem on his own?
“You could phrase it that way,” Brooks replied. “What can you tell me about such an individual?”
The man smiled, but it was sad. “Only that their burden is a difficult one – and that they are not here on New Begonia.”
So it was not to be of any help, Brooks thought. “That is unfortunate to hear – in both senses. If they exist, we could potentially help them.”
“I believe you mean that,” the Reverend said. “I am not hostile to your ideals, Captain. I believe that your people are not truly lost, only . . . have yet to find your exact path. That is why I will tell you that I have heard of such an individual who lives within the system.”
Brooks was not sure how to interpret that. “Do they live isolated from the colony?”
It wasn’t unheard of for individuals to live alone in space – some people just wanted to be solitary. But it was a harder and more dangerous life for them in space than it had even been for those who went into the wilderness alone back in Earth’s history. The void had no mercy or room for error.
“You could say that,” the Reverend said. “But it requires some explanation. I am certain you are aware that our colony began under the guidance of our first Prophet – Ted Corren. All of this is due to him, and the Grace of the Lord of Dawn.” The man gestured to the garden and buildings beyond. “One day we shall terraform Hope’s Dawn itself, and recreate the Earth as it was in the days of Paradise.”
Brooks noticed that Dr. Logus seemed fascinated. He doubted it was with curiosity of their religion, but out of sheer interest in the Reverend’s psychology.
“Our arrival was difficult, however, Captain. We had sent production machines ahead of us, but they encountered unexpected problems that delayed them. Three hundred thousand of us first left Earth, but nearly two million arrived – a trip of four hundred years can have unpredictable changes in population. But what had been built was only for half that number. Times were hard here, at first. Many considered it to be a test of our Lord, but not all felt that way.”
A pang of sorrow went through Brooks. While technology could allow beings to settle worlds and moons that were incredibly hostile, the scale of them meant that if small problems were allowed to fester then they could grow exponentially. It was a reason the Sapient Union strongly advised prospective colonists to be officially sanctioned; the resources of fully-developed systems were needed to help things go as smoothly as possible.
But this was an unchartered colony. They had had the option of being chartered, but he knew that Ted Corren had refused to accept the help of the Sol government.
He did not give voice to that thought, however, and allowed the Reverend to continue.
“After Ted Corren passed, his son took his name as his surname – Vell Tede. Vell was a wise leader, and in some ways so was his son. But Ban Tede began to feel that leadership should not be due to wisdom, but heredity. Though his father disagreed, Ban attempted to put his son into power against the general will, and a schism appeared in our colony.”
The Reverend shook his head sadly. “We were fortunate to avert civil war. Ban and his followers were stopped, but the split had still occurred, and Ban left with those who agreed with him. They were . . . unhappy, to say the least.”
“And so they formed a new colony in the system?” Brooks asked.
“Yes. On the largest moon of the first gas giant in this system they founded a new colony that they named Vitriol.”
Dr. Logus arched an eyebrow. “It sounds as if they were quite upset.”
“Oh, they were. But we are grateful that there was no outbreak of general violence.”
Brooks stopped walking, turning to face the Reverend. The man mirrored him. “I am sorry for these difficulties your colony has faced. Do you believe that it is in Vitriol that this person we’re looking for can be found?”
“It is likely,” the Reverend said. “There is a small dashgate that exists at the second Le Grange point around Hope’s Dawn. Though relations remain somewhat strained, we do trade with Vitriol. If you take that gate, you should have no problem finding them. I will warn you, however, that they are less welcoming to outsiders than we are.”
Brooks nodded. “Thank you, Reverend. Your assistance is very much appreciated – I am in your debt. If we can assist you or your colony, we would be glad to do what we can.”
The Reverend smiled, but this time it was thin, tight-lipped. “There is something you can do for us, Captain. You can leave quickly.”
Other Terrestrial 