Into the Dark (Alexis Carew Book 1) Read online

  INTO THE DARK

  Alexis Carew #1

  by J.A. Sutherland

  Copyright 2014 J.A. Sutherland

  Cover Art by Steven J. Catizone

  (https://www.facebook.com/StevenJamesCatizone)

  Planetary / Solar Lagrangian Point graphic is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/.

  At fifteen, Alexis Carew has to face an age old problem - she's a girl, and only a boy can inherit the family's vast holdings. Her options are few. She must marry and watch a stranger run the lands, or become a penniless tenant and see the lands she so dearly loves sold off. Yet there may be another option, one that involves becoming a midshipman on a shorthanded spaceship with no other women.

  For Eric

  Sorry, no car rental in this one.

  Planetary / Solar Lagrangian Points

  New London Monetary System

  The basic monetary unit of New London is the pound, though most items in the Fringe Worlds cost considerably less than this; at least those produced on the planet or nearby. The pound is further divided into shillings and pence.

  12 pence = 1 shilling

  20 shillings = 1 pound

  21 shillings = 1 guinea (1 pound, 1 shilling)

  The pence is further divided into half-pence (1/2 pence) and farthings (1/4 pence).

  CHAPTER ONE

  “This one.”

  “And why’s that, Miss Alexis?”

  Alexis glanced over at her grandfather’s foreman and grinned. “Quizzing me, Brandon?”

  The man crossed his arms and gazed up at the massive varrenwood tree she’d indicated. Over a hundred meters tall and ten in diameter at its base, the tree towered over its neighbors. Its thick canopy blocked the morning sun from reaching the forest floor. Around them, the remainder of the lumber crew trailed up the slope from the camp below, readying themselves for the day’s work while Alexis and the foreman decided how best to harvest the trees on the plot of land.

  Brandon turned his gaze to her and grinned back. “It never hurts to state your reasons, Miss Alexis. Ensures you think them through, it does.”

  Alexis laughed and smiled up at him. At fifteen standard-years old and only a bit over a meter and a half tall, looking up was a thing she’d accepted as her lot in life. She pulled her brown hair back into a ponytail and bound it quickly, already dressed much like the foreman and workers in sturdy denim trousers and a loose linen shirt.

  “True enough, Brandon. All right, then. First, he’s the largest on this parcel, so the most valuable.” She ticked items off on her fingers. “Second, this is probably as big as he’s going to get, so leaving him won’t get us any more income.” She gestured around the clear area beneath the massive tree’s canopy. “Third, all this space will be open for new growth, so we’ll have a nice windfall when we come back next season and cull some of the smaller trees that will spring up. And last, he’s perfectly positioned.” She nodded down the lightly wooded hillside toward the camp. “If we lay him down this slope, it’ll be a straight drag back to camp and we can keep the maximum length for sale.”

  Brandon grunted and Alexis took it for the agreement she knew it was. This was the very tree he’d pick himself, she suspected, and her grandfather as well. The market for varrenwood paid exponentially better as the wood’s length and breadth increased, and this particular specimen was truly impressive. If they could bring it to market undamaged.

  Brandon squinted down the slope toward the camp. “We’ll have to take one of those two as well.” He pointed to two other trees, each half the size of the one Alexis had chosen, but bracketing the slope where the tree would fall. “Just to be safe.”

  Alexis followed his gaze and shook her head. “No.” She stepped over to the trunk of the massive tree and pulled a can of paint from her belt. She glanced down the hillside again, gauging the angles and sprayed a vertical line on the tree’s trunk. “Luca will drop him right on this, and he’ll fall dead center between them.”

  “Risky. A bit to one side and we’ll lose one of those two and damage this one.”

  “Luca can do it,” she said. “In five years, those two will be worth ten times what they are now. Were we to take one now, we’d lose that growth.” She stepped back to his side. “If it were any crew but Luca’s cutting today, I’d take one of them to be safe …” She paused, considering. “No, if it were any other crew, I’d work a different parcel and come back here when Luca was on. This gives us the maximum return with the least impact.”

  “All right then, Miss Alexis.” He nodded and turned to walk away from the tree. “Put the boys to work…and it’ll be you explaining to your grandfather if it goes awry.”

  “Of course,” she agreed, grinning as she followed him. “Luca!”

  A group of three men carrying laser cutters trouped over to the pair.

  “Take him down, Luca,” Alexis ordered, indicating the massive tree.

  Luca activated his laser cutter and stepped forward, gesturing with it to the line of paint on the trunk.

  “Just there, miss?” he called.

  “And not a centimeter off!” she answered.

  Luca gave her a broad smile and turned to the tree, beginning the process of cutting away its base. The smell of burning wood filled the forest as Luca carefully cut a wedge deeper and deeper into the massive trunk.

  “And is it any particular ‘he’ we’re cutting down to size today, Miss Alexis?” Brandon asked, not taking his eyes from the cutting crew.

  Alexis felt her face warm, but kept her eyes on the crew as well. “Every arrogant, foppish, third-generation planter’s son I’ve had to take tea with these last months,” she muttered.

  “Bad as all that?”

  “Worse.”

  They watched as Luca nodded to the member of his crew stationed behind the tree. The man carved a second wedge in the trunk on his side, opposite the first. Luca watched the man for a moment then resumed cutting on the front. Alexis watched, calculating the angles as she knew Luca was and ensuring that the tree would fall properly.

  “Brandon,” Alexis continued, “some of these boys have never been to a lumber camp or a mine — nor even their home farms. One hadn’t even been on his own holding since he was eight years old.” She snorted in disgust. “His mother took him to live in town, and he’s not been back since. Just idles away his time and spends his father’s money. Never been off-planet, either, but he speaks of New London as though he were born there.”

  “Have to be patient, Miss Alexis. Your grandfather’ll do right by you.”

  There was a faint crack and the massive trunk of the varrenwood began to lean.

  “Coming down!” Alexis yelled.

  The cutting crew hurried away from the trunk. Luca paused, just out of range of the tree’s fall as the sound of creaking and snapping wood filled the clearing. He dashed back and swung the laser cutter again to make one last cut before dancing away. All eyes followed the tree as it slowly toppled, gaining momentum as it fell. Deafening cracks sounded as the last of the wood parted, and then the ground shook as a thousand tons of varrenwood slammed into the forest floor.

  Alexis smiled at the path of the fallen trunk, perfectly bisecting the gap between the two trees they’d needed to miss.

  Luca let out a whoop of triumph. “Just there, miss!” he called, his wide grin making him seem boyish.

  “Fine job, Luca!” Alexis grinned back. She felt her heart swell with pride as the rest of the lumber crew rushed forward to begin trimming the branches from the varrenwood. They’d have the immense tree carved up and ready for the
hauler in no time. Then her smile faltered as she thought about what she and Brandon were discussing and how she stood to lose all of this.

  “He can’t do right by me, Brandon. The law won’t let him. I can work a holding. I can know all there is to mining.” She waved at the fallen tree. “I can run a lumber camp. But I can’t own any of it. I have to be married off so that, at least, I’ll get some benefit from all he’s built his whole life.” Her lips curved wryly and she patted Brandon’s arm. “I’m sorry. Not your fault.”

  No, the fault lay in the first settlers of Dalthus, her grandfather among them, who’d wanted to keep the power and lands for themselves, the ones who’d endured the greatest hardships of early colonization. They’d seen how the effects of successive waves of immigration had diluted the power of the first settlers on other colonies, so they’d set up strict laws of inheritance. Primogeniture was the law of the land here – and male primogeniture at that – so only the eldest, male heir could inherit the entirety of an estate. If there were no male heirs, then the estate passed to the husband of the eldest daughter. And if there were no male heir and no married daughters, then the estate transferred back to the colony itself, lands to be auctioned off to the other first settlers with proceeds going into the colony’s coffers.

  Strictly speaking, the law wasn’t enforceable. Dalthus was part of a star kingdom governed from the New London System. And while the New London Constitution did guarantee equal rights and protections for both men and women, the more distant members of the kingdom, often many months of travel away from one of the Core Systems, were often granted great leeway in their local laws and customs. Mostly due to the fact that a colony world’s jurists were limited, by necessity, to local inhabitants, and that the cost of appealing to a court in a Core System would require months of travel time and expense.

  “Marriage is not so horrible, Miss Alexis,” Brandon said, smiling. “Rather fond of it, myself.”

  Alexis had to stop herself from snapping at him. Brandon and his wife loved each other very much, she knew, and seemed quite happy. But neither had they been forced into it – nor had they been kept from work they loved for want of a spouse. She was saved from having to respond by one of the workers calling up the slope from the camp below.

  “Miss Alexis! Your grandfather’s just been on the caller! Says he needs you back at the house and he’s sending a hauler for you!”

  Alexis’ eyes widened and she paled. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “I left the house so early to get here, I forgot what day it was.”

  “Must be important if he’s sending a hauler,” Brandon commented. The colony had a limited number of the antigrav vehicles and gaining their use was expensive.

  “He’s going to kill me,” Alexis whispered, then louder, “I’m sorry, Brandon, you’ll have to finish up here.” She dashed away, heading for the cleared area of the camp where the hauler could land. “And keep an eye on the trimmers,” she called over her shoulder. “They’ve been leaving too much on the trunk. Those branches bring guinesas too!”

  Alexis rushed down the slope toward the camp, dodging men, stumps and felled logs along the way. Once closer, she slowed so as not to spook the team of six horses being led up to drag the newly felled varrenwood down to where it could be prepared for transport. Despite her speed, the hauler had already landed when she arrived; its long, boxy shape and shining metal looking quite modern next to the canvas tents and cooking fires of the camp. Consisting of a large, flat surface, under which was slung an enclosed antigrav unit with power and propulsion, and a small, stubby control cabin stuck onto one end, the vehicle, ugly as it may be, was one of the most valuable things on the planet, next to the fusion plant in Port Arthur. It, along with the two others of its kind, was the lifeblood of the colony, transporting cargo to and from the many holdings and the port.

  Alexis flung herself into the cramped control cabin, quickly buckling herself into a folding seat behind the operator and slamming the door shut. Almost before the latch closed, the operator had the hauler back in the air, climbing and banking to turn toward her grandfather’s holding.

  “’Morning, Miss Carew,” the operator said without looking away from his controls.

  “Good morning, Trevyn,” she replied, breathless. “Thank you for the ride. I’m sorry you had to come for me.”

  “Must be important to take me off me scheduled runs so sudden like.”

  Alexis winced. Use of the haulers was tightly scheduled, with every minute of air time valuable and accounted for. Her grandfather would be paying triple-time for this trip, one for the use of the hauler and two more as compensation to the settler whose use of it had been disrupted. “I suppose it is. Please do hurry, will you?”

  “Always do, Miss Carew.” He grinned and pushed the throttle forward, accelerating rapidly. “She does have a bit more pep runnin’ empty, and not having to worry about a load shifting on me. Fun to fly this way, time to time.”

  At least someone will get joy from this afternoon, Alexis thought. For I’ll surely not.

  * * *

  Within minutes, the hauler had traveled the distance it had taken Alexis three hours to cross that morning on horseback, leaving well before dawn in order to reach the lumber camp in time for the day’s work. As the craft banked to land, she leaned eagerly forward to see out its windows. Despite feeling horrible about the cost and upsetting her grandfather, flying was still such a rarity that she relished the chance to see her home from the air.

  The modest, two-story farmhouse her grandfather had built shortly after her father was born sat proudly at the edge of a dozen other buildings near the road from the village. Long barns sheltering the animals and equipment, barracks for the unmarried workers, and small homes for those who had families all clustered near it. Some distance away, a small village had sprung up, providing shops and services to the workers so they wouldn’t have to travel the hours to Port Arthur. And surrounding it all were the rolling green fields, neatly partitioned by fencing and hedgerows, that made up the home farms that supplied food to the Carew family’s holdings around Port Arthur. Elsewhere on the planet, the family held huge tracts of land under cultivation for export back to the Core Worlds, but Alexis had always felt she could tell the difference between what was produced there and what came from the home farms.

  Trevyn brought the hauler in deftly, settling it in a large, open space near the farmhouse, sending chickens and geese flapping away in all directions.

  Alexis unbuckled and popped the cabin’s door before the craft had fully settled, leaping out and calling, “Thank you, Trevyn!” as she hurried toward the farmhouse. Crowds of people hurried out of the barns and homes to see what the excitement was about, and Alexis blushed furiously, knowing everyone on the holding had seen the extravagance and knew that she was the cause.

  And knows the why of it, she thought.

  There were no secrets on a small farmstead and there’d been much talk about Alexis’s situation in the months since her fifteenth birthday.

  I can’t blame them, I suppose. It affects them as well.

  Whomever she married would become the new holder after her grandfather’s death, and their new employer, or bond-holder if they were indentured. That thought disturbed Alexis more than the possible loss of the lands themselves. Her grandfather treated his workers and indentures quite well. Far better than some of the other holders on Dalthus. The thought of the families she’d grown up around being subjected to the treatment she’d heard about on other holdings was frightening.

  * * *

  Denholm Carew heard the sound of the landing hauler – more the panicked sounds of the farm’s geese and chickens, really – and set his tablet aside. Much as he relished a break from working on the holding’s accounts, he wished for a different reason. He didn’t enjoy these meetings with potential suitors any more than his granddaughter did. Well, she likely hates them more, but it is my death the lads’ll profit from, so I’ve a right to find it distasteful
.

  “I’m sorry, grandfather!” Alexis cried as she burst into the farmhouse’s kitchen. She gave a brief nod and smile to Julia, the family cook, who was busy trussing a chicken at the kitchen’s long counter. Not only gasping and disheveled from the dash from hauler to farmhouse, dirt and sawdust covered Alexis from her morning at the lumber camp. “I knew they were working the plot with that great varrenwood today, and I wanted to be there to see it was taken properly.” She grinned. “We got it without having to clear another tree on the plot, grandfather, a clean fell.”

  Denholm sighed. “That is wonderful, Lexi, but this visit has been planned for weeks.” He rubbed his tired face. Contrary to the current fashion of a clean-shaved face amongst the first settler families, Denholm still wore a full beard, not caring if the younger generations thought it marked him as too much of a working man.

  Alexis lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, grandfather, I forgot.”

  Julia snorted derision. “Not sorry and didn’t try too very hard to remember, if I’m any judge.”

  “Whatever am I going to do with you, Lexi?” Denholm asked.

  “Why, grandfather,” she said, voice bright but with an undertone of bitterness. “You’re to sell me off like a prize sow. Isn’t that what this next week is all about?” Her face fell as she saw the look on his. “I’m sorry, grandfather, truly.”

  That hurt, but it was no more than the truth and no more than he deserved, he supposed. “I’m sorry, as well, Lexi. I do wish there were better alternatives for you, but the law’s set. If your father had lived …”

  Alexis crossed to his side and gave him a brief hug.

  “I’ll not live forever, Lexi. I won’t,” he insisted as she started to protest. “Oh, it likely won’t be tomorrow, but it’ll come. If you’re to have any joy of what I’ve built, this is the only way. And we’ve time yet to find you a man you can work with… they can’t all be…” His voice trailed off, trying to find words to describe the parade of second and third sons of his peers, wondering how the grandsons of the men he’d settled this world with could have become such…