Hugh Howey - Half Way Home

“That still relies on the rains,” I said. “We’ve been awake for almost a month and Colony’s told us very little of the planet—”

“Are you thinking of the snow on the mountains?” Tarsi asked.

I nodded. “There must be streams from the runoff. Maybe we should think about—”

“Who made you the boss?” Jorge asked, leveling his machete at me from the other side of the fire.

“Nobody,” I said. “I’m just asking questions—”

“Sounds like you’re making plans,” he said, then made a show of tearing off a bite from a cold piece of meat.

“Jorge, give it a rest,” Tarsi said.

“Porter’s right,” Kelvin said. “Peter was trained as a farmer, like me. He may have been thinking the same thing.”

“I don’t want to go chasing after Peter and Mica on a hunch,” Jorge said. “Besides, who needs farming when we can corral a bunch of vinnies. Right, Vinnie?”

“We can’t keep calling them that if we’re gonna live off them,” Vincent said, frowning.

“Agreed,” Britny said, putting her arm around Vincent. Several of us nodded as well.

“Making any decision is gonna to be impossible like this,” Samson said. “Who here is ranked the highest?”

“I don’t wanna get that kind of hierarchy going out here,” I told the group.

Karl pointed at me. “Guess we know who’s ranked the lowest ,” he said.

Everyone laughed, and I had to join in. He smiled to let me know no harm was meant.

“I’m actually the lowest,” Samson admitted. Several of us already knew that, as he was open with the fact that he’d been in the vat right next to the exit on our birthday, and consequently the first one out. “And I don’t think she’s gonna say anything, but Mindy is probably the highest. Her vat was by Myra’s.”

We all turned to her, and I saw her face grow redder than any of the sunburned boys.

“I refuse to lead this rabble,” she said, smiling. “I’m just happy enough not to be mixing propellant for that rocket.”

“Speaking of which,” Tarsi said, “does anybody have a clue about why we were building that thing?”

Nobody answered.

“Should we care?” Britny asked.

“I think we should care about why this planet was deemed inhospitable,” she said.

“Lack of metal,” Leila said. “Besides gold,” she added.

“That’s the rumor,” said Kelvin, “but you sound like you know something.”

“I know who started the rumor,” Leila said. “Mica told me about it. She’s a geologist, so it could be her bias, but I think she knew what she was talking about. Anyway, everything else about this place is perfect for life—just not good for building more colony ships and sending them off to other planets.”

“That can’t be it,” Karl said. “They wouldn’t abort us just because it’s nice here but not profitable.”

“You sure about that?” Leila asked.

Jorge sneered at me. “What do you think, Porter?”

I felt my body flush with heat as a wave of faces turned my way. I took a deep breath and peered into the fire.

“I think the lack of metals makes this a pretty poor planet for colonization. I lean toward Leila and Mica on this. But I also think we need to keep our minds open to something else. There could be seasonal weather we don’t know about, or larger predators. And even though none of us signed anything, our births within the colony make us implicitly a part of a legal structure we’ve now turned our backs on. If the colony does do well, we’re always gonna be outlaws. Besides—and I don’t mean to be crass—but if we don’t have three kids per couple, none of this really means anything beyond our temporary happiness, right?”

“I call Britny,” Jorge said.

Several of the boys laughed, but not Vincent.

“Fuck you, Jorge,” Britny spat.

“You heard that, right?” he said. “That’s a verbal agreement.”

Everyone laughed even harder, except for Britny and me. Vincent glowered at Jorge and Tarsi reached her hand through my arms and intertwined her fingers with mine. I looked over and saw she wasn’t laughing either.

“So, have we all agreed to pair off and go roll around in the moss tonight?” Samson asked.

Mindy was closest to him, so it was left to her to slap his arm.

“I say we forget about the colony by putting some distance between us and it,” Tarsi offered. “Let’s pretend the day we squeezed through the perimeter fence was our real day of birth and the horrors beforehand were some final training we shared together.”

The joking fell silent as we mulled that over. I really loved the beauty of the analogy, the ability to pretend the worst of my life had been as unreal as all before it. It reminded me of Myra’s method of coping with the loss of Stevens.

“I also think we should try and find Mica and Peter,” she said. “If they went toward the mountains, that also works for finding fresh water and getting away from the colony. It’s the best of everything.”

“I second that,” Britny said.

A chorus of agreement followed. I squeezed Tarsi to let her know how much I supported the plan, and also how much I appreciated her deflecting the burden of leadership away from me.

“Well, then,” Vincent said, “I have an idea on how we should get there.”

“Besides walking?” Mindy asked.

“Now that you mention it… yeah, maybe. I was thinking we should hike back up to the canopy and walk across in a straight shot. It’ll take forever to work our way around the trees.”

“No way,” Leila said. “And risk falling to our death?”

“It’s not like that,” Samson said. “The leaves are so packed and stiff, it’s like walking on solid ground.”

“Except it’s two thousand feet above solid ground,” one of the girls complained. “And it’s a long way up to hike.”

“Once the rest of you see the sky up there, you’ll understand.”

“Yeah,” Jorge said. “Besides, I think Mindy had a good idea.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. About not walking. Maybe we can ride the vinnies up!”

We all turned to look at the large creatures; they continued to worm their way around the small circle—an unending column of dark, shivering fur.

“We really gotta call them something different,” Vincent said. “It’s creeping me out.”

Excruciating didn’t quite cover it. The hike up the gradual incline felt more like a stroll along death’s edge. It only took half an hour for my legs to become sore, then my lungs started burning and every step required concentration and brought pain. Even if I hadn’t been overworked and half-starved from the previous weeks, the unending upward stroll would’ve severely taxed me. I like to think it would’ve taxed anyone.

Several others offered to walk while I rode a vinnie, but I felt as right about that as I did about eating them. The other colonists rode their backs, some of them in pairs. They squealed at first as the follicles of hair squirmed against them but they eventually settled down. I chose to hike at the back of the column, pausing now and then to appreciate the views while gasping for breath. The saving grace with the vinnies was their plodding pace. I could walk and catch up, stop to suck down precious oxygen, then repeat. I tried conserving my water, but we looked to be a mere quarter of the way up by the time I’d drunk half my supply, which forced me to ration it even more judiciously.

Lunch had to be eaten on the move, as even without the chip dangling in front of the lead vinnie, they didn’t seem to know how to stop. Tarsi dropped off the back of her vinnie and joined me. There was plenty of cooked meat left over; I knew she would prefer to have some of it but she shared my bombfruit instead. We walked and ate in silence, my lungs hardly up for the hike, much less a conversation while I staggered along.