The Bradford Culling Pt. 2

The conversation around me is muffled by my thoughts. I know how irrational the thought is but I can’t help but think about the possibility that Transport won’t realize we’re stranded down here. The other leads hammer Locke with questions: ‘Is the air filtration system functional?’ ‘What’s the plan?’ They don’t realize how pointless it is to question Locke, he doesn’t have a single answer to any question they ask.

“What should we do Locke?” Russ asks.

Instead of answering him, he looks at me and I’m sure they can all see the fear and confusion on my face. My eyes dart around the room at all of them as I struggle to find an answer. I’m not sure why Locke looked at me, maybe he was worn down from all the questioning. He probably figured I was working out a plan this whole time in silence. I wasn’t.

“We send three teams of four to the sister ships and give word of the problem we’re facing.”

They all just stare at me. But they seem a bit more relaxed than before. No matter what way they feel about it, it’s either take the risk or sit and wait; I ain’t much for waiting.

“I can’t allow it. It’s far too-“

“It’s smart.” Russ cuts through Locke to back my plan. “I agree with Jade. It’s better than just waiting. We don’t know how long it’ll be for us to be shuttled off planet and the bloom begins in a couple hours or so.”

I just said the first thing that came to mind. I didn’t think anyone would agree to it. Russ’ support is enough to draw head nods from the other leads. Locke outright opposes it.

“Walking that distance is too much of a risk.” He says.

“We have the AGSaws.” Says Russ.

“No, we don’t. Once power is lost all backup power is pushed to vital life support systems and there’s no way to override it. Without being able to let the ramp down good luck getting those saws down a ten-meter drop. That only leaves the option to walk and again, it’s too much of a risk.”

His words send a wave of defeat over the others. He makes a good point though. The saws aren’t designed for that kind of thing. And going on foot to the sister ships is risky, anything can go wrong. But, it isn’t impossible.

“It’s risky Locke. But, it isn’t impossible.” I say.

“Jade?”

“Let me show you.” I cut through him.

I grab a map and chart from off the shelf. It has the location of the sister ships plotted on it. I chart the safest path for each team that’ll take them through the least dangerous route as quickly as possible.

“If we stick to even terrain and avoid the densest patches of possibly forested area, we can get to each ship with minimum risk.”

The others agree. But Locke holds out.

“What about the bloom? Atmospheric masking?”

“We’ll have our masks and a backup tank. Each of them can last about thirty to forty-five minutes in worst-case scenarios.” I say.

“Okay. Have you considered if whoever is foolish enough to make this trip goes into a panic, how much it could reduce masking times? This plan also relies on a blind trust that the sister units exceeded quota and cleared these patches of forest that you plan to have our men trek through.”

There it went. He killed my entire plan before there was any real attempt to carry it out. The others look more defeated than I do.

“We put it to a vote.” Russ says.

Locke shoots the idea down and he storms out of the office back into the cargo bay. Locke follows closely behind grabbing at him to stop and we trail them.

All eyes are on us. The silence is deafening. As Russ begins to shout the plan across the bay, Locke talks over him. They go into a heated argument in front of everyone. It doesn’t do anything to help and only wastes time but they're too far gone to notice. ‘The intercom.” I say to myself. I turn around, run back into the office, and lock the door behind me. I open the shutters on the window, stick the map and chart to it so that it faces the cargo bay, and grab the intercom. It screeches and it’s enough to silence the two of them. I start informing everyone of what’s happening and lay out the plan as Locke attempts to open the door. He pats his pockets for the keys that are sitting on his desk.

I don’t overcomplicate the plan and I’m sure I explain all the risks. I also don’t try to persuade them with fear or anything to agree to it. I scan the bay and there’s a sea of mixed responses written on everybody’s face. I put it to a vote. A simple hand raise for those in favor. Locke turns to see several hands shoot into the air faster than I could finish my statement. A few others go up hesitantly but it’s enough for a majority rule.

About fifteen minutes pass after the vote and we’ve readied our teams and are ready to descend the emergency staircase to the ground. I’m leading one of them teams, Russ another, and the last team is made up of four other men from my harvesting team. I don’t shame anyone who didn’t have it in them to do this. I think I’m only doing it because it’s my plan and it only seemed right.

One of the crewmembers pushed the lever forward by the hatch on the floor. It opens up and I look straight down to the ground, four meters. Everyone in the bay dons their masks. The staircase drops with a rhythm of clanking sounds down and crashes into the ground below. I lead the teams to the ground. I ensure each team lead knows their route once again, point them in the right direction, and we go our separate ways.

“Wait!”

I turn around and see Locke moving toward me at a quickened pace from the staircase.

“I’m going.”

“No, you’re needed on the ship,” I say.

“There’s nothing for me to do there. The men know how to conduct themselves and I spoke with the other leads.”

He stands there staring at me through his mask, breathing heavily.

“You need to get your breathing under control. We got a long walk ahead of us.”

He smiles and nods his head. He grabs one of my men by the shoulder and sends him back up the stairs to the ship. The other teams are gradually getting further from us.

“We have to go, quickly.”

We hear the sound of the staircase being brought back up manually behind us, there’s a loud locking noise that sounds after each flight is back in place. After some time the sound fades. I look over my shoulder the further we move from the cargo ship. It somehow seems larger the more distance we put between it, just sitting there on the horizon. It brings into the scale the sheer size of the transport ship in orbit. We don’t have the tools to relaunch that once back into orbit if it landed down here.

We’re about forty minutes into our trek. We moved beyond miles of tree-stump-littered lands into more wooded areas. The air is much thicker, and without a doubt, more toxic than before. I order a filter change to be on the safe side. The sun is a hazy object in the sky. Locke trails behind the group, his way of keeping an eye on us I assume. But, I’ve also known him since I was a teenager when my father started work for the FMC, something is troubling him. I've seen it on his face when he came down the stairs after us. To know or remain ignorant to whatever he’s hiding, is the decision I struggle with. Whatever it may be, knowing or not knowing won’t make it any less, or any more real.

I slow my pace until he’s at my side and walk with him. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, Locke. And please, none of your crap, no games, just tell me.”

He has a habit of downplaying things when they’re bad, I learned that when my father passed.

I watch as he looks up to the sky, squinting like he’s trying to see the transport ship in orbit.

“They say if you look hard enough you can faintly see the transport from down here.

“Locke?”

He smiles. “I’m sorry, Jade.” He drops his head and stares ahead.

“For what?” I ask.

“I should’ve seen this coming.”

“Huh? Locke, no one could’ve seen this coming. This is only the second time since the FMC began that this has happened.”

“And it’s enough for me to have seen it coming. They did.” He nods his head upward to the sky.

“Transport?”

“Yeah. I eavesdropped on the harvest council before we departed Ateera. The majority of the meeting was them talking about profit loss and trying to find a solution.”

“The FMC loses money all the time and we make up for it each year.”

“Not the FMC.” He stops walking and grabs me by the shoulder. “Galactic Ventures Capital.”

I heard the name before, my father told me about them. The FMC is only one of many fellmen corps that exist on Ateera. A few of the larger corps are hired and contracted by them. They supply the money and network for the entire operation. He always told me, if they’re involved, it’s never anything good. I know that whatever he has to tell me is a lot worse than I could imagine.

“Don’t waste my time, just tell me.”

He nudges me forward to walk again.

“The first option any company contemplates when they suffer a major loss is to reduce personnel. And there is only one way they could cut that size without paying out hundreds of millions to buy out the contract.”

“You think they sabotaged the ship?”

“I know it. I can’t prove how, but doing this work as long as I have, you learn how things work and I know Transport can control the cargo ships remotely from orbit.”

I’m in disbelief, so much so that I didn’t realize how far we were lagging behind the other two. I quicken my pace and Locke matches me.

“Wouldn’t they lose more money stranding us and the cargo here on Earth?

“You’re not seeing the whole picture. The worst case for them is buying out the contract and paying hundreds of millions in taxes, fees, and expenses. Then, they’d also lose one of the best fellman corps to a rival company. Best case, strand us here and lose nothing but the cost of transporting us here. Our pay isn’t guaranteed until we touch down on Ateera and life insurance is handled by a third party because we’re contracted employees. Because we operate under a contract, FMC operates as an independent entity so GVC isn’t liable. So, they reduce personnel while saving money at the same time. Even if they decided to pay the salaries for all the lives lost they’d still save millions in the long run. And if the FMC is found at fault, they can go back and renegotiate for a reduced-price contract. It’ll be settled by next harvest and they’ll recover the lost cargo ship and its cargo and sit on a hefty lump of profit.”

I stay silent. A wave of emotion consumes me but I don’t know how to feel. Fear; rage; confusion. I feel it all at once and numb at the same time. I check my watch. The sister ship will be departing soon.

“We have to hurry!” I say. “We’re running out of time.”

We pick up the pace and catch up to the other two in no time. They sense the urgency as we speed past them and instantly start questioning Locke and me.

“Just tell them, Locke. They deserve to know.” I demand.

He tells them his theory and their reaction is the same as mine, silence. It rallies them as well; our speed walking turns into a light jog. Locke falls behind a bit and I drop my pace to match his. We come into a patch of forest and weave our way around trees, over roots, and fallen trunks.

‘No!’ I say to myself as I start to see resin seep from the trunks of the trees. There had to be been at least an hour left before the bloom began. It doesn’t make sense. I check my watch again; It seems to be reading correctly. I don’t understand.

“Jade, are the buds supposed to be sprouting right now?” Locke asks.

“No. Pick up the pace!” I yell to the others in front of us. Locke and I catch up to them.

I see them look up into the trees and notice the sprouting buds. The air being filtered into my mask thickens and breathing gets a bit harder.

“Keep your breath even. Stay calm.” I say to the group as well as myself.

I burst ahead of them in a full-out sprint, and I can hear them following closely behind. One of the men pulls ahead of the group and we give it all we have to keep the pace until we reach a clearing. The toxin is heavy in the air and the harder it gets to breathe, the less we’re able to see. I can hear one of the guys next to me coughing and wheezing through their masks. I’m too panicked to see who it is. I keep my eyes fixed on the clearing ahead.

We clear the patch of forest, and the air lightens. I can still hear the coughing behind me. I turn around and am relieved it isn’t Locke. I rush to try and help him.

“There’s no point.” Says Locke. “The toxin has already breached his mask. Grab his spare filter and let’s go.”

I kneel beside him trying to steady my breathing. He snatches at the filter on his belt and hands me his filter. I hold his hand, nod back, and leave him. I try not to but end up looking over my shoulder and see him convulsing on the ground as we jog away. Tears fall from my eyes and I’m unable to wipe them. Leaving a person to die is the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life. I can’t help but feel guilty.

“There was nothing any of us could do for him.” Locke says, jogging on unaffected.

Since we cleared the patch of forest, I know we must be close to the sister ship. I see it coming into view on the horizon. We shouldn’t be able to see it on the horizon. There should’ve been enough dust in the air to block a clear view from this distance.

“Somethings wrong.” I say.

“What?” asks Locke.

“The ship. We shouldn’t be able to see it. If the engines are on then-“

“it’d be covered in a cloud of dust.”

We burst into another sprint. I’m not sure how much time we have left on our filters and the increased toxin levels in the air would make changing too risky.

As we close in on the ship there’s no other noise except the boots of our suits striking the ground and our heavy breathing. I feel weak, like I’m about to pass out. I cough violently. This is it. The Pyrus Toxin has got me too. My legs go limp, and I collapse to the ground and everything goes black.

I woke up in the medbay. It’s just the same as the one back on our ship. Locke and Brady are standing near the window of my room. They approach as I stir in the bed.

“What happened?” I ask raising myself upright.

“You fainted. Dehydration.” Says Brady. “Locke and I had to carry you up the emergency stairs.

“Emergency stairs?” It’s the last thing I wanted to hear. I was hoping we’d be on our way back to transport or already there. I know that if this ship is moving the emergency stairs it means only one thing.

Locke and Brady look at me and I can see it on their faces.

“The entire unit?” I ask.

“It looks that way.” Says Locke.

I stare out the window of the med bay and catch a glimpse of the crowded cargo bay through a door being swung open. ‘They’ve killed all of us.’

++++++++++REMARKS+++++++++++

This concludes The Bradford Culling's two-part series.

The inspiration for this story came one day before the start of spring when Kaneisha and I walked out the front door of the house to run errands for the day. We both become choked up by the pollen from the Bradford Pear trees in the neighborhood in the air. I remember saying, "It feels like I'm suffocating."

Once we got in the car and drove off I said, "I could write a story about these trees." and from there it became the story I'm sharing here for you all to read.

Hope you enjoyed it!

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