Mini Musings II

The Governor

This is my third entry for the SFSD 8-- a scifi colonialization piece about the Saturn moon, Mimas. It was a fun little piece to write, coming in at just under 5k words. The quotes I chose to use are in bold. Happy reading!

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The Governor
By: SP Parish (c) 2014

The puff of the transport’s hydraulics followed Nicolas Scott as he made his way down the steady, metal ramp. The small sound seemed to echo off the cavernous walls of the moon’s hold, mixing with the noise of men at work all around them. To his left, the sound of a rover being started, an impact wrench’s harsh torque harassing his ear. To his right, groups of mechanics, pilots, and forgers talking loudly about the day’s assignments.

Dead ahead, the assembly, quietly awaiting the arrival of the new governor of Mimas: Nicolas Scott.

The mixture of apathy, frustration, and eager anticipation on their faces could not dull the sharp pang of adrenaline that lit through Nicolas’ body as his feet hit the solid ground of the moon’s soft surface.

Hundreds of feet above head, the ceiling soared across the hangar; blues and greens mixed lazily on Saturn’s surface hundreds of miles in the distance. The colors were magnified by the thick, glistening strip of ice that was the only protection between where the colonists stood and the wide-open blackness of space.

In his peripheral, Nicolas could see the assembly begin making its way towards him. Quickly, he took in little pockets of observations, filing them away for further study.

First, Nicolas was well aware Mimas was cold. Negative ninety Kelvin, to be exact. The hangar, along with the rest of the initial colony of Mimas, although it had been developed along the warmest stretch of Minamtean soil, it was still well below freezing at best. Still, what on Mimas was keeping that ice above their heads from melting?

Second, of the sixteen ships currently in the hangar, the majority were rovers, meaning—if Nicolas remembered correctly, which he almost always did—then, there were currently no rovers on the surface of the moon. This being an explorative settlement, that struck Nicolas as problematic. What was stopping them?

Third, the ground below his feet was soft. This may not be the best place for the coming and going of ships, despite its size.

And lastly was the observation of his Minamtean greeter as she entered into Nicolas’ personal space. “Governor Scott,” she said, reaching out her hand. She was short, barely reaching Nicolas’ chest, dressed in the navy blue of traditional explorers and settlers. It was a nice contrast to her soft, grey hair, which had pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Her name was Helen Hadbury, the relations’ expert for the Saturn moon, Mimas.

“Dr. Hadbury,” Nicolas responded, reaching out his hand. “Please, call me Nicolas.”

She did not return his smile. As Nicolas continued to hold her hand, Dr. Hadbury stretched what seemed to be a painful smile across her thin lips. Nicolas noted that it did little to sever her sharp disposition or warm her less-than-affectionate welcome. “Thank you, sir,” she managed. With a small gesture, she turned and began making her way out of the hanger, away from the transport that Nicolas had just exited. “Allow me to show you to your office. We have much to discuss.”

Without another word, Dr. Hadbury headed out of the hangar, the rest of the assembly, Nicolas included, falling in wordlessly behind her.

It took only a short moment, at the pace Dr. Hadbury had set for them, to traverse the length to the outer doors. Without pause, Dr. Hadbury punched in a code, and Nicolas found himself led out of the vast cavern of the hangar and crammed into a hallway surrounded by smooth, metallic, walls which had a strange sheen to them. Nicolas reached out a hand as if to touch one when a hand stopped him.