The Last Colony

Needless to say, word of the Magellan’s crews’ return leaked instantly. News media and colonial governments who tried to learn more were met with official denials from the CU government and unofficial warnings that publishing the news would lead to impressively negative consequences; the story officially remained buried. But word spread among the families of the Magellan crew, and from them to friends and colleagues, and from there to the crews of other civilian and military spaceships. The story was quietly confirmed by members of the Sacajawea crew, who, despite having landed on Roanoke and all having been exposed to members of the Magellan crew, were not under quarantine themselves.

 

The Colonial Union does not have many allies in known space, but it has a few; soon enough the crews of allied ships heard of the return of the Magellan crew as well. These crews manned their ships and traveled to other ports, some of which were not at all friendly to the Colonial Union, and some of which belonged to members of the Conclave. It was there that some of these crew members transmuted their knowledge of the return of the Magellan crew into ready cash. It was no secret that the Conclave was looking for the lost colony of Roanoke; it was likewise no secret that the Conclave was happy to pay for reliable information.

 

Some of those who volunteered information found themselves encouraged by the Conclave, in the form of genuinely unspeakable amounts of wealth, to discover just where in the universe the Magellan crew had been all this time. This information would be difficult to come by, which is why the reward was so unimaginably high. But as it happened, shortly after the Sacajawea returned to Phoenix Station, its assistant navigator was fired for being intoxicated at his post. The officer now found himself on a blacklist; he would never again travel the stars. A fear of destitution plus a desire for petty revenge caused this former navigator to let it be known that he was in possession of information he had heard others would be interested in, and would be willing to share it for a sum he felt would make up for the wrongs he had suffered at the hands of the Colonial Union’s civilian space fleet. He got the sum; he handed over coordinates for the Roanoke colony.

 

Thus it was, just three days into Roanoke colony’s second year, a single ship appeared in the sky above us. It was the Gentle Star, bearing General Gau, who sent his compliments to me as the colony leader and bade me to meet him to discuss the future of my world. It was the third of Magellan. According to the intelligence estimates of the Colonial Defense Forces, begun before the “leak” was set into motion, General Gau was right on time.

 

 

 

“You have lovely sunsets here,” General Gau said, through a translator device slung on a lanyard. The sun had set some minutes before.

 

“I’ve heard this line before,” I said.

 

I had come alone, leaving Jane to manage the anxiety-filled colonists at Croatoan. General Gau’s shuttle had landed a klick from the village, across the stream. There were no homesteads here yet. At the shuttle, a squad of soldiers eyed me as I walked past. Their demeanor suggested they did not consider me much of a threat to the general. They were correct. I had no intention of trying to harm him. I wanted to see how much of him I recognized from the versions of him I had seen on video.

 

Gau motioned gracefully at my response. “My apologies,” he said. “I don’t mean it to be insincere. Your sunsets actually are lovely.”

 

“Thank you,” I said. “I can’t take credit for them; I didn’t make this world. But I appreciate the compliment.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Gau said. “And I am pleased to hear that your government made information about our colony removals available to you. There was some concern that it would not.”

 

“Really,” I said.

 

“Oh yes,” Gau said. “We know how tightly the Colonial Union controls the flow of information. We worried that we would arrive here, you would know nothing of us—or know something incomplete—and that lack of information would cause you to do something irrational.”

 

“Like not surrender the colony,” I said.

 

“Yes,” Gau said. “Surrendering the colony would be the best course, in our opinion,” Gau said. “Have you ever been in the military, Administrator Perry?”

 

“I have,” I said. “Colonial Defense Forces.”

 

Gau looked me over. “You’re not green,” he said.

 

“Not anymore,” I said.

 

“I assume that you commanded troops,” Gau said.

 

“I did,” I said.

 

“Then you know that it is no shame to surrender when your forces are outnumbered, outgunned and you face an honorable adversary,” Gau said. “One who respects your command of your people and who would treat you as he would expect you to treat his own troops, if the situation were reversed.”

 

“I regret to say that in my experience in the CDF, the number of opponents we faced who would have taken our surrender was rather small,” I said.

 

“Yes, well,” Gau said. “An artifact of your own policies, Administrator Perry. Or the policies of the CDF, which you were obliged to follow. You humans are not especially good at taking the surrender of other species.”

 

“I’ll be willing to make an exception for you,” I said.

 

“Thank you, Administrator Perry,” Gau said. Even through his translator I could sense his dry amusement. “I don’t believe it will be necessary.”

 

John Scalzi's books