“Yeah bruddah, yours if you need. But you go north first. You one get into trouble by dat island an’ t’ings be bad. Trouble up north an’ you come to us wiki wiki.”
“Okay, good point. I’ll stay the night if that’s all right and head out in the morning.”
“Bruddah, I give you one wallop if you start actin’ like the Busland folks. You family now, brah. You no ask to stay. Just find yourself a spot an’ you’re home. K’den?”
“Mahalo, Keoni. Yeah, I went back for a few days. I’m not too well liked there…”
“Helen treatin’ you alright?” asked Hawk.
“She wants me to stay and…”
“Hey you two. Stop da gabbin’. Time for luau. C’mon. Let’s go help da wahines.”
Jonathan had a wonderful time at Camp Ma. No name had ever been decided on the area where Hawk and his wife Beth and their seven month old son, Keoni lived. Big Keoni and his family, his wife Lanni, and his two sons, Niko and the oldest Pekele also lived there with several other families and a couple of single people.
Niko at age four wasn’t able to pronounce the word ‘encampment’ when he heard Jonathan call the area prior to their settling there. He had said “campma” instead which of course became Camp Ma.
Camp Ma was dug into a fairly steep hill four hundred feet high. The hillside gave them excellent shelter from the meteor swarm. The long ridge almost ran into the Sound which gave them proximity to fish with safety if the swarm made an unscheduled appearance which it had for over a year. There had been no swarm sighting for the past several months.
The Camp Ma residents had even terraced part of the hillside for growing different vegetables and some fruit trees. They found blackberry canes and a few stands of raspberries in the more shaded interior which was a short walk from Camp Ma. There were shelters interspersed along the length of every trail and every area any of the residents might wish to go. A gentle stream ran to the Sound at the foot of the hill so they had fresh water.
Jonathan had found the area and told Keoni and Hawk about it. Once Jonathan had brought them to see the area both Keoni and Hawk decided it would be a great place to live and raise their families. Friends and others had also wanted to go so a loose tribal organization was developed for a general governing council.
Jonathan was happy to have a long day there with his friends. Bill Lorazini had finally come. Terry McNeill also with his fiancée, a Canadian tourist who had been stranded in Port Hardy when the swarm hit, had decided to stay. Several other families preferred Camp Ma to Busland.
Busland had become more fractious. The governing body was honest and generally fair yet squabbles between zealots of a new found religiosity and non-zealots had increased nonetheless. There were actually two separate communities in Busland though they still worked together in some respects.
But Jonathan had been restless and preferred to wander around. He took trips all over Vancouver Island and even went to the mainland. He reported back and tried to create consistent communication with other survivors though that proved disappointing. Whenever Jonathan had returned he found the residents of Busland more contentious. Especially the zealots.
He had given seminars in geology and catastrophic theory. He found he angered both the new religious zealots and the conformists of the theory of gradualism. He tried to show that gradualism wasn’t scientific just because scientists insisted on teaching it to the exclusion of everything else. As any theory it would have to conform to general scientific principles.
When he showed where and how often gradualism failed by using scientific evaluation he was soundly jeered. By both factions now. In fact, it was the only time the zealots and the gradualists ever agreed on anything.
Prezlee had developed a relationship with Helen, an American from Marin north of San Francisco, and it was a warm and intimate relationship. But Jonathan could not spend a great deal of time in Busland.
The two distinct communities formed and became estranged due to the ideology of the zealots. Yet, Jonathan had many friends there. Dr. Bond and much of the crew of the airbus he was still close to but the nascent town could not hold him.
He was restless without his work and he was a hiker so it was natural for him to wander about. It was why he looked for a place like Camp Ma. Unfortunately Helen wouldn’t live in Camp Ma because her mother and aunt, the only relatives she knew she still had would only live in Busland.
Though the division caused by religion made Jonathan sad the fact that the community, especially at Camp Ma, was doing very well despite the hardships made him feel tremendously pleased. To be a part of it made him feel very proud.
There was still much which Jonathan couldn’t understand and it frustrated the scientist in him. In some ways it was mysterious. Such as the swarm, particularly the swarm. Or swarms. He was almost alone in feeling there had to be more than one swarm.
This led to discussions with mystery writer Lorazini, Terry McNeill and others. However, the ratiocination was still waiting to be discovered. He felt it in his bones it was important but didn’t know the why of it.
One, why was it difficult for communication still. While the batteries lasted they had walkie talkies which worked in very close proximity yet failed to work even at a mile distance. That did not make sense.
Two, the swarm. Why was it so inconsistent? He knew studying catastrophic theory that scientists had blind spots and the pre-conceived belief system certainly failed regularly to explain the phenomena of nature but to be this incorrect regarding the movement of a meteor swarm, swarms he told himself, just seemed wrong somehow.
Could it be…? No, don’t go there Jonathan, he told himself. He’ll wander up the coast to check out the area that Hawk had told him about but…‘Oh well. Can’t dance.’
CHAPTER TWO
Jonathan awoke just as the sunlight was becoming noticeable. Sunrises were not like the sunrises of yesteryear. Often the haze from the volcanoes on the mainland obscured the heavens, especially in the morning. Generally by late morning the breeze had shifted coming from the ocean. This cleared the skies to some degree and helped reduce the heat and humidity.
Jonathan did not have a watch but it really didn’t matter. The day was no longer twenty four hours. The global catastrophe had increased it by nearly a half hour. Also, the inclination of the planet had changed and the daylight was generally longer.
Upon awakening Jonathan stretched and rubbed his face. He peeked out of the shelter and looked to the east. No swarm today. At least not yet. He hastened to the stream to wash his face. He had bathed last night so he could ignore it this morning. He retrieved his pack which contained dried fruit and fish jerky. Enough to last five days. It made the pack heavier but it would of course lighten over time.
He had his fishing line and hooks so if he needed to eat something fresh he would have the chance though he wasn’t a particularly good fisherman. He had an extra pair of long pants with a pair of shorts and an extra shirt.
The shirt and shorts were made from hemp bast. Very sturdy clothing. A difficult process in making hemp clothes but one he had learned living amongst a tribe high up on the Sepic River in Papua New Guinea. He had been there to survey for possible veins of gold.
In Papua New Guinea the making of clothes was women’s work after the men had soaked the stalks but it had interested him so he had observed the process.
The recent hemp bast came from a patch of marijuana he found when he had wandered around the northern part of Vancouver Island. This strain of cannabis was perfect for smoking but not as good for rope or cloth making. However it was the only hemp around and the residents of Camp Ma had adopted it for their use. Once it was made into paper Bill Lorazini moved to Camp Ma so he could continue to write.
Keoni and his two children came out just as Jonathan was getting ready to hike north.
“Hey, bruddah. You be safe now.” Jonathan nodded.
“You want da canoe?”
“Hmm, no. I thought I’
d go up the coast to the next stream and take that west. I’ll cut over the high hill and go down into that valley which empties into the small cove. Be about ten miles I guess. I should be in shelter the whole way and still be able to check out anything which doesn’t belong.” Keoni nodded and offered Jonathan his hand in the traditional Hawaiian handshake.
“Be back in a couple of days.” Probably less he thought. He waved as he headed for the beach.
Jonathan was off. He liked wandering in weather as this. Although it was the middle of February it was warm enough that he needed no heavy clothing.
He guessed the thermal gradient though not noticeable anymore when sleeping on the ground still affected the weather patterns and left residual warmth close to the surface. He knew he would be sweating in an hour or so. Which is one reason he choose to hike along the coast.
It felt good being by the water. The water in this part of Queen Charlotte Sound was warmer now due to the tsunami which eliminated Port McNeill. The tsunami pushed millions of tons of dirt and debris into the Sound blocking up most of the waterway and effectively cutting it in half. During low tide you could walk from where Port McNeill had been to the mainland without hardly getting your feet wet.
The trek up the coast to the next stream was quick. It was less than three miles and mostly hard sand to walk on. Once at the stream he turned west and followed it to a larger drainage. Most of the tallest hills were around seven hundred feet high but the slopes weren’t too treacherous so the ascent to the ridge was no problem. Generally easier than trying to go around and fighting through denser thickets. Here the pines and firs were generally still standing so it was pleasant and not too difficult.
The valleys in this part of the island were neither too wild nor too settled. There was water and shelter but little in the way of available food. Unless one had great patience and was adept at hunting and trapping. He neither had the patience nor necessary skill. He did keep his eyes open for signs of animal spoors. One never knew…
‘That’s odd,’ Jonathan said to himself out loud. He was looking at a trail wider than should it be. Some rabbit spoors were unmistakable but rabbits do not widen trails. As he bent closer he detected scratches along the trail. He knelt down to examine the scratches. He realized they were meant to hide tracks as if someone had taken a branch and swished it along the trail. Hence the scratches were made from the stronger twigs of the branch.
He knelt for a little bit then decided to investigate. He stood and slowly crept along the trail making sure he made no sound nor disturbed or rustled the branches of the pines. He was moving around one of the larger knolls and assumed there would be brambles when he reached the other side. Probably be a small watering hole too.
“That’s far enough.”
“Hello?” said Jonathan.
“Reach for the sky.”
“What’s that?”
“You heard me.”
“Ah, yes. I did hear you but you’re kidding right?”
“I’m not kidding. Reach!”
Jonathan shook his head. “Do you mind if I take my pack off?”
“No.”
“No as in you don’t mind or no as in I keep my pack on?”
“Quite a smart ass for an alien.”
“Hey, just because I’m from America…since we’re both survivors we’re really in the same boat.”
“How do I know you’re from the states?”
“Why would I lie?”
“If you were an alien you might.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You don’t sound like an alien though.”
“Oh, yeah right. What do aliens sound like?”
“Well, I haven’t heard them say anything but they seem to hear things. They stop and cock an ear then go about their business.”
Jonathan held back laughing. This was laughable and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at least. “So you’ve seen these aliens? And they look like little green men?”
“You’re really a riot aren’t ya?”
“Okay, I don’t mean to belittle you. In fact, a friend of mine believes there’s aliens up on the little cove a few miles from here and I told him I’d go and check it out. Can’t say I’m too optimistic in finding any though.”
“Then it’s your unlucky day. There are aliens up at that little cove.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding.”
“Well what do they look like?”
“Like us.”
“How’s that?”
“That’s right they look human.”
“But…does that make any sense? I mean if it was aliens wouldn’t they look, well different?”
“You’ve watched too much TV. These aliens look human.”
“Well, how do you know they’re aliens and not people from, oh, Canada or the States or Russia?”
“I saw their space ship. Several times. They’re bringing down supplies.”
“C’mon. I guess you’re not one of them. We can check them out in a few hours if you like? You have any weapons on you?”
“Nope. Just a scaling knife.”
“Have any food?”
“Yep. Time for lunch doncha ya think?”
CHAPTER THREE
“Damn. That sure is bizarre,” said Jonathan.
“Huh, I told you so…”
“Don’t be a smart ass.”
“Okay. But I did,” Turk said.
Turk O’Brien and Jonathan were lying down on the hillside underneath a large fir tree. The fir tree had branches low to the ground and they felt they were well hid by them. They could see in a clearing about a dozen humans working. None of the humans talked to each other and “they look sorta drugged.”
There was a transport ship of some kind and it appeared to be designed as a supply ship. These humans were constantly going into it and bringing out all sorts of tools and what looked to be pieces of canvas. The ship was very boxlike and gray though it was unclear if it was painted gray or just the natural color of the metal. It was about three times larger than a large camper.
“Think they’re making a tent?” asked Turk.
Jonathan nodded. “I haven’t seen one of them smile or show any emotion. Don’t you think that’s odd?”
Turk nodded. “So, you think they’re aliens?”
Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t feel right in committing to that but he couldn’t think of anything else.
“They certainly seem to be listening to instructions,” said Jonathan. “But I don’t see any phone apparatus on their ears. Do you?”
“That’s what I’m saying. They’re aliens. I just know it.”
Jonathan wasn’t convinced these humans were aliens. On the other hand he wasn’t convinced they weren’t. Something definitely seemed out of place.
“And why hasn’t there been any of those meteors? These fellas showed up not long after those meteors stopped. Well?”
Jonathan shrugged. Turk had a good point but he still wasn’t sure. “I need some more proof.”
They sat watching the work but could discern no particular threat from whatever these humans were building.
“Turk, you know the area pretty well?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Let’s come back tonight. I want to get a closer look. Okay?”
“Okay.”
>
“They’re still working. Don’t those guys ever take a break?” whispered Turk.
It was early evening and it was still warm. A light breeze moved through the trees. The clearing had lights so the workers could continue to toil away. They were very methodical and never talked to each other. There was light enough in the clearing so Jonathan and Turk could see the whole of it fairly well.
“Well it looks like some sort of barracks. Probably for the workers. The tent is probably for the…ya know that’s really odd.”
“What?”
“Seeing that tent there makes me think of the
Persians. The ones who were going to attack Athens. Their king and his advisors had elaborate tents….but this wouldn’t…?”
“I don’t know about that but a tent in this climate now would be more comfortable. Those barracks like it as not will be stifling. And why would they be building any wooden structures if the meteors are coming back. I’m tellin’ ya these guys know something about that.”
Jonathan nodded absentmindedly. He had to admit Turk maybe on to…what? Something definitely was not kosher here.
“Be nice if we could talk to one of them.”
“Are you nuts?”
“How else would we know more than we know now?”
“Didn’t you see that thing hooked to their belts? Tell me you don’t think that’s something other than a gun or weapon of some kind?”
“Yeah, I see it. Makes sense…what you say. But I’d still like to try and talk to one. Think we could snatch one without the others knowing?”
“No. And I don’t like that idea. They may figure out we’re here. That’s probably not such a good idea.”
Jonathan nodded again. “Let’s knock one out and take that thing hooked to their belt.”
“Prezlee, you are out of your mind? They would definitely know we’re here then.”
“They’re going to know that sooner or later. Does it make a difference when?”
That stopped Turk. He wanted to reply. He really wanted to. His mouth remained open with no sound issuing forth.
“Still…” finally emerged.
“Besides, how do we know they aren’t…?”
“What’s that? Look.” Turk pointed to the other side of the clearing. Two of the men walked into the clearing. They held a woman between them and pulled her towards the newly erected tent. She squirmed and protested. She wasn’t dressed too differently than the men and it dawned on Jonathan that all the workers were men. The workers had the same cut of clothes though some of the colors were different.
The pants of the workers were either gray or dark brown and the long sleeved shirts were brown, gray or dark green. But the same type of shirt. The material from their vantage point looked to be the same in each case.
The woman being dragged through the clearing seemed to be middle aged and dressed in a tunic of the dark green color with dark brown pants. The exact same colors as the men. She was either squirming to escape or digging her heels into the ground. She wasn’t strong enough to stop the two men from taking her into their camp. The men seemed to be fit and nearly six feet in height. They were generally dark haired; light brown to very dark brown. Her hair was light brown and cut below her ears.