Ember Fields
Written by Peter Williams
Photographed by: Mark Peery
Makeup & art direction by: Natalie Bohlin
Model: Rose Bradford
The Corinalth Colonization Program had proven disappointing in the six months it had been active. While maintaining a breathable atmosphere similar to Earth’s, the planet’s soil had proven inhospitable to any form of edible vegetation. From what the scientists in the colony had concluded, the nutrients naturally produced on Corinalth were not enough to keep seeds alive long enough for them to bear fruit.
Nonetheless, the members of the CCP continued to try. Experiments were conducted, making attempts to change the chemical composition of the soil to something more sustainable. Acidity levels were altered, soil density was shifted, sunlight exposure was controlled. Three different kinds of fertilizer were invented in the hopes of creating a nurturing bed for the plants to grow from. The attempts at farming spanned ten miles, seven elevations, and sixteen different kinds of seeds. So far, nothing had grown.
Were it not for the hydroponic greenhouses aboard the Eagle III satellite that orbited Corinalth, the 40 scientists and specialists would have starved three weeks into the program. As it was, the rations they received on weekly shuttles to and from the satellite were proving to be running thin, as the program had anticipated being able to grow food on the planet’s surface this far into the experiment. Despite the lack of progress, the crew continued to work hard, refusing to give up and accept failure. They knew the answer was there, they just had to find it.
The Earth Space Union was not so confident and had given the CCP one more month to successfully start growing crops before the long-range transports were released from Eagle III to bring the crew safely home. The crew was hesitant, but the ESU didn’t want to risk starvation if the crew couldn’t get the project working in time, and they didn’t have the resources at the nearest system waypoint to send an extra ship out there with enough food to sustain the program for another few months.
The crew set to it with a renewed vigor, unwilling to let all their hard work be wasted. If they failed, Corinalth would be labeled a dead, uninhabitable rock, and they would be relocated to what the ESU dubbed a more “suitable” planet. While bleak and uninspiring, the scientists had grown to think of Corinalth as their new home in the seven years of planning leading up to the project’s landing, naming themselves Cor-ites, short for Corinalthites. They had chosen the planet, prepared as best they could, and would not be dissuaded now that they had landed on their chosen home.
Despite their best efforts and creative solutions, nothing grew on their farms. As they entered the final week before the ESU’s deadline, the crew began to gather their things, preparing to head home in failure. The atmosphere in the steel complex that had been their home was somber, and very few extraneous words were exchanged.
With three days until the deadline, an error message began blinking across the computer that was linked to the satellite. As diagnostics were run, it seemed that the additional exertion of the hydroponic greenhouses upon the satellite had taxed the power supply more than had been estimated. While technicians remotely worked on the station from Corinalth’s surface, the rest of the crew prepared for an even faster exodus than they’d anticipated. If the satellite failed, they had no means of communicating with the ESU, no method of transportation off the planet, and no more food.
After determining there was no way to repair the satellite’s power issue, the ESU was contacted, and the command was given to release the long-range shuttles from the satellite.
Error messages flashed across screens throughout the complex, and a loud roaring could be heard from outside. Concerned scientists rushed to the windows, watching in horror as a large fireball blossomed in the sky, falling towards Corinalth’s surface.
The remnants of Eagle III burned through the atmosphere, impacting far enough away that the complex stayed intact, but close enough that the heatwave from the rolling explosion raised the temperature inside the complex by a few degrees. The Cor-ites had no words, their only means of sustaining themselves, communicating with the ESU, and leaving the planet had just become a melted, useless hunk of metal. They exchanged knowing looks, some muttered prayers, and still, others wept.
At dinner that night, the meal was tightly rationed. The supervising team had discussed it and believed their best chance was careful rationing in the hopes of surviving long enough for the ESU to figure out what had happened and get a transport to them. Their estimations put that timing at about a month, and they had enough food for a comfortable three weeks. If they rationed it, they believed they could make it to a month-and-a-half, which they hoped would be ample time. If not, then they suspected the ESU, when they finally arrived, would find a complex of corpses.
The next day, when the atmosphere had finally cooled down to the point that they could step outside, a salvage team was sent to the crash in the timid hope of finding anything that might prove helpful in their survival. Upon reaching the crash site, just on the edge of one of the farthest farming attempts, they were met by a surprising sight. The tilled soil where the seeds had been planted had turned to embers, giving off enough heat that the salvagers had to return with protective gear.
The wreckage itself yielded nothing usable, despite multiple days of searching. The greenhouses were mangled pieces of modern art, the engines of the transports were beyond recognizable, and any sort of communication tech had melted. The crew hung their heads in defeat and began to carefully make their way back across the ember fields towards the complex that would likely become their grave, their last hope of being able to control their own destiny snatched away from them.
The first one to notice the sprouts in the ground believed he was losing it. He did a double-take, certain that there was no way the leafy protrusions could be real. But as he knelt and gently touched the vine, he heard gasps as others began to notice. They didn’t understand how, but they recognized the beginnings of vegetation across the ember fields. After a cheer erupted from the gathered scientists, they immediately began taking samples, hoping to understand how this had happened.
After the salvagers’ return, there was an air of excitement and hope throughout the complex. The rationing continued, but the crew believed that once they knew how the field had suddenly been able to bear fruit, they would be able to survive, and even thrive, by applying this new knowledge to the other fields. For the first time in weeks, since before the crash, people were smiling and making small talk, happy and excited about what the future held.
When the battery of tests on the soil was finished, the scientists were amazed. Somehow, the intense heat of the crash and explosion of Eagle III had caused a chemical reaction within the soil, releasing heat and nutrients locked within the dirt. The heat released by this reaction continued to spark reactions in the soil around it, causing a loop of released heat, which is what had given the field the appearance of glowing embers. The nutrients they found within the soil not only fertilized the seeds that had been planted, but also slightly altered the seeds’ genetic makeup to feed off the heat, rather than burn from it, as well as to grow faster than their Earthen counterparts. Their studies revealed no harmful effects from this chemical reaction, and the first volunteer to try eating the new vegetables demonstrated no debilitating side effects, claiming only that it was a little tougher to chew than normal vegetables.
Content with their findings, the Cor-ites set to work altering the rest of the fields. It was difficult, but they fashioned makeshift flamethrowers and subjected the gardens and farms to intense infernos. Within a week nearly all the farms had yielded some form of sprout from the embers. The vegetation had thicker outer shells than the Earth originals, to protect them from the heat, but the taste was nearly identical. The fruit trees were very similar, standing tall with thick trunks, but juicy fruit hanging from its branches.
When the transport from the ESU arrived two weeks later, they were met by a surprising sight. The complex sat in a sea of embers, yet the Cor-ites seemed unphased as they went about their day, tending to their fields and farms. They had gathered a bounty of crops for their rescuers, to show them that there was no need for concern, and they would be alright to stay.
The supervising team used the communications equipment from the transport to discuss the finer points with the ESU, but when they emerged from the shuttle, the team was smiling. The ESU was happy with the Cor-ites’ discovery, was pleased that they were thriving, and had given the order to begin forming a proper colony on the planet after the CCP’s success. The crew had been tested in fire and had risen victoriously from the ashes.
