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  Contents

  Copyright page

  Missing

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  Missing

  SAFE

  by Andrew Broderick

  Copyright 2017, all rights reserved

  Sometimes the darkness we fear is our own…

  Despite his reputation as a brilliant and dedicated space engineer, John Rees is certain he is not the man everyone thinks he is. Haunted by the death of his father and one fatal decision that questions his morality, he doubts he will have a chance to redeem himself for a past he cannot escape.

  But when 100 colonists go missing on an alien planet, he sees his chance to prove once and for all that one decision doesn’t create a monster. With only a skeleton crew chosen to lead the rescue mission, and John not making the cut, he struggles to find any way possible to help save them.

  Can John find a way to get on board the vessel bound to find the lost colony, or will he be forced to watch from the sidelines as his destiny is snatched from him?

  Strap in for Missing, the first book in Andrew Broderick’s new sci-fi adventure, The Lost Colony series!

  Click here: http://andrewcbroderick.com/missingbook

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jason looked out of the floor to ceiling cafeteria window at a dark, overcast river delta. It was rarely sunny, but the sky now looked particularly ominous. His vantage point, hundreds of feet up, allowed him to see far into the hilly distance. A dreamy look overtook Jason as he stared outside. The only thing moving was the clouds, as they scudded past, and parted momentarily to allow a ray of sunshine through. His heart danced at this faraway yet tangible pleasure.

  Behind Jason, the cafeteria was nearly empty, as the lunch crowd filed out. He turned around and scanned behind him, before turning his attention to the outside world again. It was as lifeless as a picture on a screen, except for when seagulls wheeled by the side of the enormous structure riding the sea breeze, delighting Jason as he admired their wing span.

  On hearing the last person leave, Jason withdrew a rectangle of cardboard from the right pocket of his dirty, ragged jeans. He unfolded it into a square tube some six inches long. He then produced two lenses gleaned from pairs of glasses. They had strips of clear tape wrapped around their sides, ready to be peeled off. Within thirty seconds, the lenses adorned either end of the tube, and Jason had a crude telescope.

  After checking one more time that he was alone, Jason lifted the small scope to his eye and focused on the river bank. He could make out a large pack of gray seals basking on the mud flats. After watching them for half a minute, he lifted the scope to look at the grasslands beyond. If he was really lucky, he would get to see a wild horse. Jason held the tube against the thick, dark glass to try to keep it steady, watching the landscape for several minutes.

  Suddenly he heard two women talking, their voices loudening as they approached the cafeteria from the landing beyond. Jason hurriedly collapsed the scope, ripping the lenses off, and stuffed the parts back in his pocket. He recognized one of the ladies as Maureen, a kindly old nurse. Her scrubs were worn through at the knees and elbows, and bore the faded stains of countless blood spatters.

  “The young’ins, they’s always hurtin’ themselves,” Maureen grumbled. “We’s eventually gonna run out of thread. Then what’s they gonna do? Oh, there’s one now,” she said, looking at Jason.

  “Hi, Maureen,” Jason said.

  “They’s nuthin’ to see out that windah.”

  “I like looking out.”

  “They’s nuthin’.”

  Jason nodded, and headed past the two women and out of the cafeteria.

  * * * *

  Jason knocked on the brown apartment door, after completing the second of his shifts tending to the hydroponic gardens and washing his short brown hair. A woman of some twenty-five years answered, wearing a sweater with ragged holes that revealed a threadbare white t-shirt underneath.

  “Hey! What’d ya want?” she said.

  “Just bored, that’s all.”

  “Well, come in.” She turned. “Dad, it’s just Jason.”

  “What does he want?” came a grouchy voice from beyond.

  “Just t’ hang out.”

  “Well, okay. But stay where I can see you. Ain’t no room for babbies here.”

  They entered a small living room with a brown carpet, heated by a single hot water-powered radiator. A nearly-bald man sat at a small table, focusing on a sculpture of a seagull that he was constructing from tiny splinters of wood, squinting to see his creation in the room’s dim light.

  “Can we watch a movie?” Julia asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  “The Fugitive?” Jason asked.

  “Again?” Julia replied.

  “Yes. I love that one.”

  “Well… okay.” She inserted a DVD into the player, before joining Jason on the worn checkerboard-patterned couch. The wallscreen showed the words that preceded every form of visual entertainment in the complex, narrated by a male voice. “The places in this film epitomize the greed, decadence, and immorality that led to the fall of the former society. Be grateful that you are among the survivors, and will one day be instrumental in repopulating the earth. This message is per Directive 232A of Pod 43 Command.”

  The film cut to a picture of Harrison Ford walking down a busy street in Chicago. Jason slouched and stretched out his crossed legs, looking over a Julia, who was sitting Indian-style. The pair, bathed in the flickering light from the screen, said nothing during the fifty-five minute film (edited down from its original two hours and ten minutes.)

  Afterwards, Jason stretched. “What I don’t get is, if it’s that bad outside, how come higher-order species like horses can live?”

  Julia merely smiled and shrugged. “I divven’ naa,” she said in her singsong voice.

  Jason wished he could be as carefree as Julia. She seemed content inside the giant concrete complex, held hundreds of feet above the river by vast iron legs. Neither the past nor the future seemed to bother her.

  “Plus, I wish I’d had a say in what I do,” Jason continued. “Why did I have to be a gardener? Why couldn’t I have been a keeper?” he said, referring to the jobs of those who took care of the animals. “That really gets my goat.”

  “Goat! I get it!” Julia smiled.

  Jason chuckled. “I never intended it that way, but it is kinda funny.”

  “Keep it down, you two,” Julia’s father grumbled.

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “See any good animals outside?” Julia asked.

  Jason glared at her, while holding a finger emphatically up to his lips. Shhhhh!

  “Oh aye. Sorry, forgot.” Telescopes were highly illegal. Only Julia knew of Jason’s secret viewing habit.

  * * * *

  It was mid-afternoon the next day. Jason stared out of the cafeteria window as usual, waiting for the last of the lunch crowd to leave. He overheard whispers of, “That guy just stares out there every day. There must be something wrong with him,” as the last workers left.

  As soon as he was alone, out came the cardboard and lenses. He was soon scanning the riverbank again. Some slightly sunnier weather had brought hundreds more seals out to bask on the mud flats. After admiring their ungainly movements and carefree belly-up posture, he looked further away. What could be out there today? Sheep? Maybe a coyote or a horse? Then Jason saw something that made him freeze.

  There were two humans crossing a dune maybe 200 yards from the bank. Jason blinked to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and resumed his gaze. Surely not? Maybe it was two horses side by side, seen from the front? But no, they
were walking from right to left across his field of view, with the distinctive gait that only people possessed. He couldn’t make out any details, but that hardly mattered. Everything else faded to nothing as Jason watched the beings make their way over the dune and out of sight again. He then kept scanning all around, hoping to catch a glimpse of some others. No luck.

  “Oh, crap!” Jason said, when he saw the time. He had five minutes to make it back down fifteen levels to his second shift. He folded up the telescope as he ran to the elevator. Some others got in as the car descended. The doors opened at Jason’s workplace. The other occupants looked sideways at Jason as he stood rooted to the spot, his face glazed over, as the doors closed again and they descended to the power plant on level five. Only when they got out did Jason realize his mistake, jabbing at the ‘7’ button again and cursing under his breath. Humans. Outside. In what was supposedly toxic air. Jason was a third-generation pod dweller. There was no way homo sapiens had evolved in a mere seventy years to be able to breathe the toxins he had always been told were present. Jason now understood why telescopes were illegal: Pod Command were lying about the outside being uninhabitable, and he had just seen the truth.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You’re quiet today,” Julia remarked, wearing her apron and rubber gloves, having come on shift two hours after Jason.

  “Just thinking.” Then, after looking to make sure no one else was in earshot, Jason turned to Julia. “I saw…” He found himself unable to complete the sentence, as an image of the whole pod crumbling into the river crossed his mind. It was a metaphor for the lies and absolute domination on which the pod’s society was built. If he spilled the secret, not only could he face death by being dropped hundreds of feet to the ground, but it could set off a revolt in which many more died.

  “Was it a horse?”

  “Yes. A whole herd.”

  Julia smiled brightly. “Oh cool, I knaa how much you love seein’ ‘em.”

  Jason nodded. “Yeah.” Then he turned back to the saplings of cabbage and kale, growing in pods of clear liquid, checking the health of each one under the glare of the artificial lights. There’s life. Outside. I have to get out at any cost.

  * * * *

  Jason’s objective during his break that afternoon was not to look outside; it was to go outside. He had no idea how or even if it could be done. Could he even survive out there without a protective suit? There was only one way to find out.

  Jason breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator car thumped to a halt at level five, the lowest floor it serviced. He exited, and found himself in a different world: the power plant. Thankfully, the corridor leading straight ahead was empty. There were three doors along the right side, which was towards the inside of the pod. Jason walked as quietly as he could, though nobody inside would hear him. They could, however, see him, as there were windows into each room. Glancing inside, he saw gray panels of knobs, dials, and LCD monitors, with one or two techs monitoring each. There were also windows on the far side of the spaces, facing the fusion reactor. Nobody saw him.

  Jason followed the passageway’s ninety-degree right turn at the end. He went down one flight of stairs, and found himself in a vast space, on an open walkway above a two-story drop. To his right was the giant concrete cylinder containing the torus that provided limitless power to the pod. It was punctuated with floodlights facing down from its top, five stories up. Impressive as this space was, Jason wasn’t there to sightsee. He headed as quickly as possible along the metal catwalk, his head on a swivel. He would stand out instantly, as he wasn’t wearing the blue coverall uniform of a power plant worker. Thankfully there were few workers, around; they worked the same shifts as the gardeners, and were on break, probably in the lowest of the three cafeterias.

  Halfway along the catwalk, Jason headed down two more flights of stairs, to the the murky bottom of the enormous space. Pipes and ducts as thick as a person, running high above, cast long shadows on the ground. Jason knew that only one level existed below where he stood: the water treatment plant, which processed water from the river into drinking water for the entire pod, and piped sewage back down. The exit had to be on that floor.

  Jason allowed his eyes to adjust to the low light. He didn’t even know if he could get down there from the reactor hall. He took a deep breath, and psyched himself up for the search. Though deathly afraid of the consequences of being caught sneaking about out of bounds, he was also excited beyond words. Not only might there be a way to the outside world, but the danger of the quest pumped his veins with adrenaline. Life in the sealed, artificial environment of the pod held no excitement. He would never have to face down a wild animal or a hostile tribesman there. The call of the wild, which echoed in the heart of every human being, went unanswered in an environment free of any risk except being labeled a subversive.

  * * * *

  In the eighteenth floor cafeteria, Jason’s usual haunt, the nearly-bald Rex Stromdahl picked up some papers from a hastily-erected podium. His crisp, white shirt and dark blue necktie contrasted with the rags of all other pod dwellers. “Send out the order, Malvern,” he said to his assistant.

  “Yes, Sir,” the weaselly little man replied.

  Every screen in the pod came to life with the words MANDATORY ASSEMBLY in bold white letters on a black background. “Chairman Stromdahl is calling an immediate assembly, to reward the workers of the month. All personnel are to report to their nearest muster point immediately.” (The reactor hall, usually devoid of people, lacked any screens.)

  People immediately emptied from apartments and pod facilities, heading to the closest of the three cafeterias. (Those in the lower two would see the event on a large screen.) Six troopers, known as Guards, dressed in black and brandishing a rifle, oversaw the gathering in each space.

  The assembly wouldn’t start until every single able-bodied person who wasn’t doing an essential duty was present. The Guards counted the pod dwellers on the way in. Any non-attendees would be severely punished.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jason walked the darkened, square perimeter of the reactor hall, sometimes having to dodge pipes and other large pieces of humming, gray machinery. Looking behind, he saw that he was leaving a trail of footprints in the dirt. “Crap,” he muttered. From then on, he carefully smudged each impression to make it unidentifiable, which slowed his pace considerably.

  About halfway along the second wall, his face lit up. “Bingo!” It was a staircase leading down. A sign above it read EMERGENCY EXIT. It led down one level, to a thick door with a pushbar on it, which would lock itself after he went through. What if he couldn’t get back up? But surely there had to be a another way up from there. He would just have to find it. Looking at his watch, Jason saw he had an hour until he was due back at the farm. Good. His heart beat faster and his palms started to sweat. He could be on the cusp of finding the way out of the pod.

  On the other side of the door was a featureless gray concrete corridor, lit starkly from above by bare bulbs with protective steel meshes. The door clunked shut behind him. After the noise of the power plant, the silence here was deafening. This was level zero. He tried to picture in his mind what was likely only a short distance beneath his feet: a long drop into nothing.

  Heading along the passage, there was a door at the end which led into a large space. It was only one level high, and it hummed with van-sized pumps and a network of pipes thick enough to crawl through. Surely it wasn’t far now. Skirting the perimeter of the area, with its glowing unattended control panels, there was no sign of a stairway. Jason’s sense of direction told him he was heading back towards the center of the pod.

  After traversing three sides of that room, there was another corridor that seemed to lead outwards again. Jason took it. It led only to another flight of stairs—going up. “Dammit!” Jason grunted. “How the hell do people get out?” Maybe they didn’t—but there again it was known that the Command had made good on its threats to execute what it they as t
raitors by dropping them into oblivion. There had to be an exit. But it didn’t look like he was going to find it.

  After taking another flight of stairs, Jason found himself in a white, and much more pleasant, corridor. Signs engraved on red plastic plates pointed the way to places such as CC-2 and MC-1. These were presumably parts of the power plant.

  After a few more paces, Jason passed more control rooms with windows out to the corridor. He frowned in puzzlement on seeing that they were deserted, and kept going. After thirty yards, there was a passage to the side that led to a flight of stairs. Good, this is the way out. Jason was soon in an elevator lobby, with a big sign saying ‘3’ between the brushed silver metal doors. Also present, next to the right shaft, was a screen. Jason read the stark words MANDATORY ASSEMBLY. His stomach twisted. Argh! Of all the times to call one of those!

  Jason frantically pressed the elevator call button, praying he wasn't too late. He paced furiously, beginning to sweat, until at last the car announced its arrival with a ‘ding’. He punched the button for 6, while growling obscenities under his breath. After the doors chimed open, he could already hear Rex Stromdahl’s voice. “The award for most productive food service worker goes to Xandrie Kovak, having made 10,080 meals in the last thirty days. You may collect your award on the way out.”

  Jason looked in through the open double doors to see the people standing in regimented rows. If I can just sneak in… He approached cautiously. Everyone’s eyes were on the screen. Good. He tiptoed the ten feet inside the door to the nearest rank and suddenly felt a firm hand clasp his shoulder. He wheeled around. The Guard’s eyes bore straight into him. Without a word, the trooper spun Jason on the spot and marched him back out of the door.

  The Guard ran his scanner over the bar code on the back of Jason’s left hand. “You are under arrest for being absent from a mandatory assembly. Put your hands behind your back.” Jason did so, and felt cold metal on his wrists, tightening so much it hurt. His stomach sank through the floor. He would spend thirty days in jail. How would Mother look after herself? How would Julia take it?