Cibola Burn (Expanse 4)
Holden frowned and nodded. “I hate to admit it, but I agree. Alex says he can’t put the Roci down and get it back off the ground before the blast. And if we do try to evacuate, we’ll probably have riots on our hands. How do you tell someone that their kid doesn’t get to leave on the shuttle?”
“Riots won’t be a problem,” Murtry said. The calm of his voice was chilling.
“How do we protect everyone? The entire colony?” Holden said, again choosing to ignore the provocation.
“There’s mines,” Amos said. He hovered over Holden like an anxious parent. He’d started doing that whenever Murtry was around.
“No.” Carol shook her head. “It’s low ground. It’ll flood if we get too much rain.”
“I think we should count on anything that can go wrong doing so,” Holden agreed. “So no pits and caves that can fill up with water. I’m thinking the ruins.”
Murtry leaned back in his chair, frowning. “What makes you think those’ll hold up to three-hundred-kilometer-an-hour winds?”
“Honestly? I have no good reason to believe that,” Holden said. “But they’ve been there a very long time. That’s what I’ve got. Hope that if they made it this far, they can make it through what’s coming.”
“Better’n those huts you guys are living in,” Amos added with a beefy shrug. “I can kick down any building in this town in ten minutes.”
Murtry leaned back even farther in his chair, staring up at the ceiling and making clicking noises with his tongue. After a few seconds he said, “Okay. That’s as good a plan as any I have. We just need to outlive that initial shock wave. What comes after will be bad, but we’ll be able to take any survivors off through it. So let’s play it your way. I’ll get my people moving. Better get the word out.”
“Carol, find as many people as you can to spread the news,” Holden said. “Make sure everyone brings as much food and water as they can reasonably carry, but nothing else. The planet’s on fire. Can’t stop to save mementos.”
“I’ll give her a hand,” Amos said.
“We’re on the clock,” Holden reminded them, punching an alert into his hand terminal as he said it. “I want to see all of you inside the structure in four hours, not a minute later.”
“We’ll try,” Carol said.
~
It took longer to move the colonists than Holden had hoped. Each person told had to express shock and disbelief. Then they had to have a conversation about their surprise. Then they had to have a conversation about what items they’d bring with them. Some argued about bringing personal items, each one sure that their particular case was unique. Every time Holden heard it happen, he wanted to start shouting.
It was the blue sky and gentle breeze. The disaster just wasn’t real to them. Not when they could look out across the sky and see nothing but wisps of cloud. They were playing along, because Holden and Carol and Murtry were in charge, and you did what the people in charge asked you to do unless there was a compelling reason not to. But Holden could see the disbelief in their eyes, hear it in every silly delay and argument.
Across the street, a man was clutching a bundle of clothing under one arm while he dragged a large plastic container of water behind him. Amos walked over and traded a few smiling words with the man. The man vigorously shook his head and tried to walk off. Amos grabbed the bundle of clothes out of his hands and threw them on top of a nearby hut, then picked up the water and shoved it into the man’s arms. The man started to argue, but Amos stared him down with a vague smile, and eventually the other man turned and left, trudging after the others headed to the alien ruins.
“Captain?” a tentative voice said to his back. He turned around to find Elvi Okoye smiling up at him, a large sack thrown over one shoulder.
“Hello,” he said. “What’ve you got there?”
“It’s blankets. Fayez and Sudyam and I are bringing all the blankets we had at the compound. The temperature’s sure to drop significantly once the debris cloud covers us. The nights will get cold.”
“Good thinking. We should probably tell some more people to bring blankets.”
“So,” she added, still with her unsure half smile, “I wanted to ask for some help for the chemical sciences group.”
“Help?”
“The chemical analysis deck is pretty heavy, and they’re having trouble moving it. One or two more people would make the job a lot easier.”
Holden laughed in disbelief. “We won’t be doing science up there, Elvi. Tell them to ditch it and carry water or food instead.”
“It makes water,” she said.
“They can carry – It makes what?”
“It can sterilize and distill water,” she said, nodding as if by doing so she could make him agree faster. “We might need it. For when, you know, the bottles run out.”
“Yes,” he said, feeling like an idiot.
“Yes,” she agreed, smiling helpfully.
“Amos!” he yelled. When the big man came over he pointed at Elvi and said, “Find someone to help you, then follow her. There’s a big piece of equipment they need help moving.”
“Equipment?” Amos frowned. “Wouldn’t food or water be —”
“It makes water,” Holden and Elvi said at the same time.
“Roger,” Amos said and left in a hurry.
Holden noticed that a subtle darkening of the sky had begun. The sun was still high. It was barely past midday and into the early afternoon. But the sunlight was shifting toward red and the world was darkening along with it, as though a beautiful sunset were starting about five hours early. Something about the change sent a shiver up his spine.
“Get up there,” Holden said, giving Elvi a gentle push toward the alien towers. “Go now. Tell your people to hurry.”
To her credit, she didn’t argue, just took off at a dead run back toward the RCE science compound. All around him the colonists were moving faster, arguing less, and casting the occasional frightened glance at the sky.
~
Holden hadn’t been inside the alien structure since he’d looked it over as a crime scene. It had the same eerie and inhuman aesthetic sense he’d seen before, first on Eros after the infection, and later on the Ring Station at the heart of the gate network. Curves and angles that were subtly wrong and yet weirdly beautiful at the same time. He tried to imagine what use the protomolecule masters had made of the buildings, and failed. He couldn’t picture them housing machines like a factory, nor could he picture them as dwellings, scattered with furniture and personal items. It was as if, standing empty as they were, they still fulfilled whatever alien function they’d always been meant to serve.