29.11.04

Chapter 4

Updated: 30 November 2004

'I've known you since you were five. Don't even try lying to me'.

Tor couldn't help but laughing. Ziv had probably known about his feelings for Nis before he figured it out for himself. He knew he had a way with people. He could make them relax. He could make them relax. He could make them feel comfortable. Most people wouldn't have guessed that it was his way of diverting attention from himself. He wanted people to like him, to remember him, to feel at ease around him. He could draw people out of themselves, get them to open up. He was comfortable with that. He wasn't comfortable with having that soul-searching spotlight pointed at him.

'I'm not lying, Ziv. Honest. I just... I don't know. I'm not entirely sure what it is I'm feeling'. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either. He knew exactly how he felt about Nis, he just wasn't sure he was sure.

'There's something different about her, isn't there'?

He knew what she meant, but he asked anyway. There was something different about Nis. He'd had plenty of girlfriends before, but nothing ever lasted. They always expected more than he could give. They always wanted him to open up to them, the way they did with him. But he couldn't.

Lately his conversations with Nis had been surprising. They'd start off arguing about something: philosophy, war, religion — once they'd even argued about [something trivial and stupid; will come up again later]. Somehow, though, the arguments turned into something more, something real. He had told her things he'd never even acknowledged to Ziv, his best friend for 20 years. He had no doubt they were things that Ziv was perfectly well aware of, but he'd never owned up to them. Not to her, anyway...

Nis took it all in stride. Hell, she probably thought he was this open with everybody.

'We should probably start heading back to the ship. It'll be getting dark soon'. He nodded and turned away from the cliff. They'd been standing at the precipice for nearly an hour. They'd been on the planet less than two weeks, and already it was starting to feel like home. The landscape was beautiful and the air so fresh. Everything was perfectly unspoilt and green. There wasn't much left like this back home. It had been only in the last 150 years or so that people had stopped destroying the planet and started working towards restoring it. It was too late, though. Their efforts to regenerate their ruined planet would eventually succeed, but not before nearly a third of the population starved. Four teams just like theirs had been sent to explore planets with the intention of colonising them.

[Planet 1] was closer than Nova, and both Genesis and [Planet 4] seemed close to physical perfection, but Nova seemed to offer the best all around chances. It had an abundance of plant life, but they had yet to find evidence of any animal life. The gravity was slightly higher than what they were accustomed to, but not enough to cause any physical damage. The air wasn't just breathable, it was clean and pure. Water — both fresh and salt — was abundant. Keeler and the rest of the agricultural team were optimistic about the vegetation.

They would spend the next two years here; collecting samples, running tests, cataloguing items, exploring the terrain. They needed to gather and interpret as much data as they possibly could. Once the two years were up, they’d return home. All the samples and the data would be passed off to the scientists back home. Hopefully, Nova would prove suitable as a colony site. If all went according to plan, the first settlement group would depart for their new home approximately 10 years later. The first colonists would consist largely of farmers, construction workers and their families. Gradually, others would join them.

Tor’s thoughts stayed on Nova and what it would (or at least could) become. ‘It’s strange to think that this very spot could someday be the site of a restaurant or a major highway or a government office’, he said aloud.

‘I know what you mean. It’s hard to envision what it will all look like a hundred years from now. I’m just glad that we won’t spoil this one. We’re lucky our great-grandparents finally saw the error of their ways.’

The walk back to the ship took just over an hour. They talked about the state of the world and how much hope was riding on the four expeditions. Although poverty and hunger had been dramatically reduced in the past century, the planet could simply not sustain the continued population growth. The governments of various countries had imposed luxury rations. Gone were the days when people could drink six cups of coffee or eat meat more than once a day. By the time the Questor’s crew returned home, coffee and meat would likely be reserved for very special occasions.

Nova could change all that. Nova and her three sisters offered them potential to make a new start.

People who chose to make the move would literally make new starts for themselves and their families. Moving to a new, unspoilt planet sounded like paradise — and in some ways it was — but it would be hard work. There was no doubt about that. There were buildings to build, roads to construct, and water and sewage systems to establish. Beyond that, though, there were raw materials to consider. They couldn’t just ship everything here and then put it together with a few simple tools. Sure, some goods would be brought by the colonists, but for the most part the colonies were meant to be self-sufficient.

The conversation occupied them the rest of the way back. Tor was glad to have the attention shifted away from himself. He knew Ziv was probably aware of the reason he changed the topic of conversation, but he was glad she let him get away with it.

As they approached the camp, he saw that Nis was working on one of the new buildings they were putting up. He thought he saw the briefest of smiles pass her face, but if he did, it was gone instantly. She turned towards them, one hand blocking the sun from her eyes and the other reaching up to remove the nails she’d been holding between her lips. ‘Nice of you two to join us’, she said. ‘Lucky for you there’s still plenty of work to be done’.

Chapter 3

First Draft

'Because if you don’t, you’ll be kicked off the team', Relle said by way of reply. She understood why Nis had lashed out at Ferra. Half the time she wanted to do it herself. But Ferra was just the type to make a big deal of it. And the council didn’t like Nis as it was. They were looking for an excuse to drop her from the team. This looked like just the thing.

‘But all I did was point out to her that she was making everything for more complicated than it needed to be!’

Relle thought about pointing out that the problem was more with the way she had said it than with the fact that she had said it. She restrained herself, though, for the simple fact that it wasn’t the truth. Or, at the very least, it wasn’t the whole truth. Not by a long shot…

Relle had held a fair number of different jobs in several different industries. One thing she had learned was that there was always a Ferra. She worked with them in every job she’d ever held. She saw them in restaurants where she ate, at the bank, at the doctor’s office… There was always one employee — usually a middle-aged woman, not very high up the corporate ladder — who drove everybody else up the wall. She was always a hard worker, never one to shirk her responsibilities. That was the problem, though. She didn’t just do her job, she did it in triplicate. She wouldn’t just write a report; she would write a report, complete with table of contents, footnotes, introduction page and a statement about the report-writing process. She couldn’t just file paperwork, she had to complete the same forms three times over and then file each one individually. She never used down time to relax or take a break; she used it to imagine new make-work projects for herself; things that didn’t need to be done, but would undoubtedly take huge amounts of her time and effort. And, inevitably, she convinced her co-workers that if she ever once failed to complete these tasks within her self-appointed time-frame, the universe would come to a crashing halt.

For the most part, people were content to let her plod along, griping about how nobody else ever filled out form T3-7A correctly or about the fact that she was the only person around here who ever used the publication log book. People generally assumed that her work was vital and were grateful for her dedication. Occasionally, somebody would attempt to assist her with one of her tasks. When they discovered just how complex they really were, they gave up.

Nis, on the other hand, took things far too literally. She was Ferra’s polar opposite. While Ferra wanted everything done and done right and would spend ridiculous amounts of time focused on making the end result exactly what she wanted it to be, Nis wanted everything done as efficiently as possible. She was prepared to spend vast amounts of time investing in a system that would make the process as simple and painless as possible. Ferra balked at change of any sort. Nis was constantly on the lookout for things she could change. She took one look at Ferra’s system and saw potential for improvement. She began to make suggestions as to how Ferra could improve the process.

It was a match made in hell.

They were in the final days of the training programme. In just two weeks, they would board the Questor and head out on their 29-year mission. They had all been chosen for their skills and their experience, but also for their lack of ties. Those few of them who had spouses were bringing them. They had a father-daughter team in Nis and Parik. They had three pairs of siblings. There were life-long friends and people who probably would never have met if not for the mission. As they got to know one another, new friendships began to form as well. There had been a few relationships that looked like they were going to prove to be trouble. Strangely (or maybe not), Nis was at the centre of several of those. Only time would tell how things would work out. And there would be plenty of time…

Tension between Nis and Ferra had built quickly. Both women were mature enough to attempt civility. They each understood what was at stake. To make an enemy now was to make life miserable for oneself for years to come. Ferra firmly but politely stood her ground and insisted that her way was the only way. Nis had tried to play nice, but yesterday afternoon had proved too much.

All team members were required to learn to perform all of the tasks to at least a basic level. The day had started off with a geology exam; they’d been tested on their ability to recognise minerals, igneous rocks, and different rock formations. That had been followed by a particularly harrowing session in the anti-grav simluator. By the time they made it to the Communication Procedures lecture, nobody was in a particularly good mood. Ferra had droned on and on about the importance of following the steps precisely. Nis had questioned her on several points, asking why each one was so vitally important. Ferra had responded to each question, but never quite answered any of them. Nis finally snapped. She declared that they’d all been communicating successfully their entire lives and didn’t need her to tell them how to dot their ‘i’s and cross their ‘t’s.

Ferra had, of course, issued a formal complaint to the council. The council pushed to have Nis ejected from the programme immediately. Taren had managed to persuade them to drop the matter, on the condition that Ferra withdraw her complaint. He even managed to get Ferra to agree to it — if Nis apologised, formally and in front of the same group who had been present at the original outburst.

Taren walked away from his meeting with Ferra with some very unoptomistic feelings. He told Relle what had happened. She offered to speak to Nis. He wasn’t convinced that it would work, but he agreed.

In the end, Nis issued a polite (if somewhat terse) apology to Ferra in front of all 18 of the others that had been present. She followed it up by not speaking to Ferra for the remaining two weeks leading up to the launch.