2

The penal colony was to consist mainly of treehouses. I must note here that while such a plan sounds entirely commonplace to our modern ears, the Martians rarely, if ever, constructed dwellings in living trees. Indeed, the Martians preferred to chop down these organisms—many of which required hundreds of years to mature—drag them a great distance, and then subject them to a series of elaborate industrial processes that ultimately greatly reduced their utility. I believe the Martians pursued such a perverse course out of a childish devotion to right-angles. Otherwise, there is no explanation for why they went to such great trouble to make trees so useless. Nevertheless, it is the case that over the entire planet, the Martians universally destroyed their forests with great zeal. No doubt such activities could have posed a grave threat to their species had their civilization not collapsed.

The large fir trees that were so prevalent in the region completely covered the island, and were particularly well-suited to hosting dwellings. Ultimately, the entire colony was constructed in the branches of these trees: housing both the guards and the prisoners, as well as many other structures of varied function—even a hot tub and sauna.

At the beginning, the colony had every appearance of a well-planned enterprise. The temporary barracks for the prisoners was completed on the first day. The next few days saw the completion of a camp kitchen, composting latrines, and even the success of electricity from solar panels hung in the highest branches of the trees. A water filtration system was erected as well.

The only setback during this first week was that most of the sheep escaped when they were being offloaded and quickly vanished into the forests. After several fruitless hours of pursuit over steep terrain clogged with undergrowth, it was decided to let the sheep fend for themselves. After all, they reasoned, it was an island, and the sheep weren’t going anywhere. There were no known predators on the island.

Agriculture and pastorage were to be the primary sources of sustenance for the penal colonists, or Penists as they came to be known. Not only did Welles require that the colony was self-sufficient, she insisted that this sufficiency come from the land, and not any sort of fishery or endeavor requiring a vessel as might have been expected in such an island location. Welles wanted them marooned on the island, and to stay that way.

The Penists first began to consider the ill-advised nature of their locale when they turned their attention to agriculture. The fields that they were to make ready for the spring planting turned out to be steep, forested hillsides. The massive trees and dense underbrush would have to be removed before the Penists could plant.

Rae was assigned to the group charged with clearing trees. The labor was onerous and exhausting. He woke in the darkness and cold damp, and hustled into the forest which was lit by sick yellow lights hung in the trees. The buzz of chainsaws permeated the day. He waded through damp brush, and scrambled along slick hillsides. He dragged branches down the slopes into ravines where they were burned. His skin itched form the sawdust and a multitude of scratches, and his eyes burned from the smoke.

His days were wetness and mud, punctuated by brief trips to the mess tent to eat, and to the barracks to sleep. Everyone stank. There was no hot water, and so they rarely showered. Rae hadn’t thought about alcohol since he set foot on the island, and he felt wonderful.

So difficult was the work that Franklin felt compelled to double their rations. They landed with a large supply of food stores, more than enough to last them until their first season’s harvest. Even so, it seems that Franklin might have been more cautious, given his experiences on board the Investigator. Despite the strenuous nature of the labor during these first few months, one imagines he could have found a better means of motivating his prisoners. Indeed, many historians have condemned him for his improvidence, even laying at his feet the whole blame of the genocide of the Vacationers. It is true that Welles had made it clear that they were on their own, and no help would come from the mainland. At the doubled rate, they would be left with very little, and should the harvest fail, would have nothing for the winter.