He raised his voice as we ran, kicking up snow. "I hate this place!"
We made our way down a set of snow-covered, concrete steps and out onto the pick-up area where we were to meet Denise and the shuttle she piloted. The crystalline, white powder came up to our knees.
Baxter Colony was a frigid world where the temperatures stayed below freezing for thirteen of the seventeen-month Baxter year. It was the tail end of the winter season. In every direction, the buildings and lands around the college had been whitewashed with another fresh blanket of snow, piled half-a-meter thick above the frozen base layers.
Baxter University was the most prestigious of engineering schools. I made it to Baxter on scholarship. TC's family had money. His father, Aarlis Goodall, owned the Aarlis Corporation, the largest engineering firm and defense contractor in all the Union.
The Union was our empire. Nearly a thousand years earlier, humans had spread from Earth to the stars. After numerous fights, we managed to settle our differences. From that the Union was born.
We now inhabited thirty-five colonies on twenty planets, nine moons, and six orbital stations. The centralized government, the Union, kept us all just happy enough to not revolt. It was the same old story of ineptness, cronyism, and corruption, with just enough good people involved to make it tolerable.
TC grumbled. "Where is she?"
"On her way." I jammed my freezing hands as deep into my pockets as I could manage.
At twenty-three Earth-years of age, I had never paid government or politics much mind. I had been far too busy with my family and studies. Only now I would be heading out into the Union and would have to start paying attention.
As we shivered near the bottom of the steps, I thought about TC. I envied him. He really didn't care. He had a job waiting, regardless of how he scored. And I had known TC long enough to know he wasn't a slouch. He had brains. Natural brains. Tests for him rarely warranted any effort or study.
For me it had always been a question of determination. I desperately needed the degree and had worked my ass off to get it. I hoped that hard work would finally pay off by landing me a decent job. I had every desire to be able to provide Denise, and my daughter Paulette, with a good future.
"You heard from any employers?" TC asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Three. But no interviews yet. Unless I want to go all the way out to Echelon. They supposedly have work there."
TC scowled. "That place is a nightmare. This right here? This cold? This is like a balmy paradise compared to Echelon. The only people making a good living out there are the people running the mining companies."
"I thought your family owned a mine there?"
TC returned an irritated look. "Four. And it looks like we may buy another. Besides, you aren't going out to Echelon. You'll be coming to work at our headquarters on New Hope with me. My father has already given the okay."
"You keep saying that. And I, more than anyone, wish it were true. But I have yet to see that formal offer you promised."
"Yeah. I'm still working on it. Estelle has been a pain in the ass about you ever since you dumped her. She demands you not work for the company she will one day co-own... and that her brother not associate with you."
"Seriously? That was four years ago... and after only three dates. I would have thought she'd have moved on."
TC shook his head. "The Goodall women don't move on, Ray. If they don't get exactly what they want, they try to burn everything down. Between her and my mother, Estelle's the worst of the two. Spoiled. Always gets her way. I know she's my sister, but she's rotten. I should have steered you away from her when we first met."
I chuckled as I reminded him. "We met because of her. Anyway, if you can manage an offer that would be awesome. It will save me and Denise a lot of stress. Listening to the news lately, it makes me wonder if I picked the right profession."
I had watched the news feeds every night with trepidation. The government had recently halted further exploration and colonization. They deemed the break necessary until a set of binding laws for the outer colonies, several of which were owned by corporations, could be put in place. One reporter joked "There is obviously too much freedom going on."
As a result of the stoppage, engineering work had become scarce. I was not looking forward to the job hunt in a market with such low demand for my newly acquired knowledge and training. I was praying TC's offer would come through.
A heavy gust of frigid air clawed at my sweater. We each turned away to hide our faces from the bitter onslaught.
"Gah." TC rubbed his arms through his light jacket. "This is beyond bleak. I can't wait to get home to the warmth!"
I hopped in place. "When I first arrived, I thought this world was beautiful, a paradise." I glanced around at the pristine white. "Looked clean and bright. Now I stare out the windows wishing it had color... anything but white, and some life would be nice, something moving or green. This place is as dead as dead can be."
TC shivered. He fumbled with his comm display. His expression went from irritated to what looked like anger. I couldn't see the message he was reading.
"Where is she?" He asked. "You said she got your comm, right?"
"She's on her way. Any second now she'll be popping over that ridge. You could have stayed indoors until she got here, you know."
"I could have been born smarter, but I guess I wasn't. Wait... please tell me that's her. I'm freezing."
A small shuttle sped over a hilltop, flying upside down. It took a wide, curved approach, arcing in toward the pick-up area as it righted itself.
TC took a step back. "She's coming in awfully hot, Ray."
"She'll stop," I said. "Just showing off. She loves to show off her flying, but she rarely gets to."
"I take back what I said about bumping you off." TC stumbled back a half-dozen steps as the shuttle rapidly closed. "She's crazy! You can keep her!"
The small ship turned sideways with its bottom-side tilting up at a steep angle, its retro-thrusters gave it a hard deceleration. The slowing ship swept up a rolling cloud of snow as it came in only a meter off the ground.
"Turn away and kneel!" I shouted.
"What?"
"Turn and kneel!" I shouted even louder.
I managed the ducking maneuver with only a second to spare. Indecision caught TC as he was again looking at his comm display. A towering wall of snow plowed into us, knocking him from his feet and burying him in the fine white powder.
The shuttle came to a stop. The engine-whine quickly spun down to silence before the cab popped open and the steps deployed. As I stood and dusted myself off, a grinning Denise hopped to the ground. She shuffled the few meters through the snow to where I stood. We embraced. When she pulled back, her grinning face brought a feeling of warmth from out of the bitter cold.
TC emerged from a snowdrift, spitting and brushing himself off with an angered look. "What in the Union was that? You trying to kill us?"
Denise turned with a grin. "What? Are you engineers or wusses?"
TC ignored her, hurrying past and up the steps into the warm shuttle. He shook more of the snow from his jacket. "Call us whatever you want. Just get us off this ice-ball."
I followed Denise up the steps. The rental was a newer model. It was clean and well-lit, still holding onto that new-shuttle smell.
"Nice," I said. "Hope you didn't splurge too much on this."
"We'll manage." She smiled as she hopped into the pilot's chair and strapped herself in.
The shuttle lifted away. I glanced back through the transparent cockpit bubble, staring for only a moment at the complex of buildings that had been my educational prison for four years. I would not miss them.
"Where's Pea?" I asked.
"Home, with Shanice. I wouldn't be flying like that if she was here. I thought I might have some fun."
She smiled as she turned the small craft straight up, climbing to a thousand meters before nosing over and speeding toward the ground.
Denise drove the ship harder, only pulling up at the last second. The tail of the vessel clipped a bank of snow, sending a short rumble through the cabin before climbing again. She was all grins.
I sighed. "You'll want to take it easy. Tommy Clyde here doesn't do well with motion sickness."
"It's Clarence. And I don't do well with death either. Flip the AI on, please. Let the ship fly the way it's supposed to."
"Fear of flying?" Denise crossed her arms and peered over her shoulder with a smirk. The shuttle angled back toward the ground.
TC almost came out of his seat. "Stop this! Get back on those controls!"
Denise glanced down and to the side. "You hurt my feelings. I don't know that I can go on. My life no longer has meaning."
I rolled my eyes at the contrived, dramatic display. "Just flip it on. Give the guy a break. He's fresh out of engineering school."
TC clenched a fist as his face grew flushed with anger. His eyes filled with rage. It was a look I had never seen. His usual demeanor was that of being calm, composed, and in control.
Denise nonchalantly flipped the switch. The shuttle, with a smooth action, righted itself and came to level flight. "Happy, Your Highness?"
TC forced out a breath he was holding. "What's gotten into you? I used to think you were fun. This is behavior of the insane!"
"I was. I am. Having fun that is. Aren't you excited to be finished? I thought I'd be picking up a couple of boys who were ready to paint the town red."
"Is that some kind of archaic reference?" TC growled. "I don't even know what that means. And yes, I'm excited. Excited to get off this berg. I know Ray feels the same."
TC leaned forward, glaring over the cockpit display. "Where is it exactly we're headed? This isn't the direction of the spaceport."
"I'm taking us to Danny's Bar for a few drinks and a celebration."
"What?" TC turned toward Ray. "You said nothing about this. I thought we agreed on the spaceport... while I waited for my private shuttle."
Denise turned with another smirk. "Private shuttle? Only elitist wimps have private shuttles."
TC glared at me. "Who is this woman?"
I gave Denise a half smile and a head-shake. She was pushing it and TC was evidently not in the mood. "I told him we'd share a few brews at the spaceport before he left. He's heading back to New Hope tonight."
Denise dug her chin into her chest as she pulled her head back. Her shiny, jet-black hair flipped into her face. "You're ditching us?" She brushed the hair back with her hands. "Sheila's gonna be mad."
TC huffed. "You were trying to fix me up with Sheila again? She's crazy. Now I'm seeing that you're crazy too. Whacked in the head. Just take me to the spaceport. Thanks."
TC followed by crossing his arms. His eyes diverted toward the snowscape outside. His expression told me his level of anger had grown to the point of seething.
Denise turned back toward the console in front of her. "Pilot. Spaceport, please."
The AI responded, "New destination. Spaceport. Arrival in eight minutes."
She turned back to face TC. "Sorry. I thought you liked Sheila. Ray said you'd asked about her several times of late."
TC continued to gaze out at the snowy landscape as it zipped by. "No. She's fine." He calmed. "She's Baxter Colony fun. Back on New Hope there are dozens of Sheilas. Sheilas with a lot more money and class, just waiting for Thom Goodall to come home."
Denise looked at me. "Should that offend me? I think I'm offended."
She was the daughter of a Marine and prone to a strong reaction. Had she not married me, I had no doubt she would have joined the Corps. Her strength was one of the traits that had drawn me to her. She was fast to act and had no issue taking charge or defending herself or others. I had the sudden thought of her balling up a fist of her own.
I raised a hand in an effort to defuse the situation. "Let's just get to the spaceport and get him to his ship... before any of us rile each other up any more."
Our shuttle reached the dock and settled inside a heated area. As the steps came down, a blast of warm air was there to greet us. It filtered into the same cracks and crevices of my clothing the cold had found before. The shuttle was warm, but this was welcome heat.
I followed TC to the deck. Denise came after, brushing past me and stopping to give TC a kiss on the cheek and a hug. "Good luck to you back home, Tommy Goodall. I'm glad you were here as Ray's friend during all this."
TC stepped back with a stoic expression as he stared down at his comm display. It was a coldness and callousness I hadn't seen in him before. He looked as though his thoughts were elsewhere. He turned and walked away without offering a word. Denise's slight smile became a confused and irritated expression. She looked at me and shrugged.
I hurried up beside TC as he walked. "Hey. You okay?"
"Just had enough of this place. That's all."
We exited the docking bay, turning to the right, heading down a long hall to where his shuttle would be docking. His pace did not let up. The sounds of flight announcements echoed up and down the hall around us as we went.
"Want to grab a brew before you go?" It was a last attempt to calm the temper I didn't know he had.
"No. I have seven days of travel. I'd just rather get the trip over with. Just got an alert the shuttle is here."
I placed one hand on his shoulder, holding out the other for a shake as we continued toward his ship. The responding courtesy was tepid, almost distant. His stride was unbroken. TC Goodall continued ahead without turning my way or saying another word.
I stopped, confused and hurt, watching him walk away. My best friend for most of the prior four years had just become a stranger. I stood there for most of a minute until he turned a far corner. My walk back to Denise and the shuttle was long and full of thought.
"What just happened? TC can be a bit stuck on himself, but not like that. Getting knocked over by a snow wall? Not the first time that's happened... at least to me. And scared of flying? Not something he had ever let-on about before—and we've flown together dozens of times."
Denise was standing with her arms crossed when I arrived back. "What an ass. What's his disorder today?"
"Don't know." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Haven't seen him act like that. He's usually in control and rational. Has to be something else going on."
Denise grabbed my arm. "Well, come on. We're going to celebrate. And Sheila will just have to do what Sheila normally does, hit on every other guy in the bar. She won't be disappointed."
I hesitated to step up onto the ship. "You think we could skip the drinks and just do a nice dinner with Pea? I'm kind of spent."
Denise smiled. "You're the graduate. And Pea would love that."
— Chapter 3 —
* * *
The job hunt brought no good news. It seemed there was a glut of new engineers hitting the market all at the same time. I received few replies to the hundreds of applications I sent out, with all being rejections. My prospects were looking morbidly thin, but I continued the hunt.
Before I knew it, three months had passed since graduation. The lease on our rental unit on Baxter had come to an end. Without money in savings, we took a loan just to pay for the shuttle ride back to Demos IV. We moved in with Denise's parents.
It was humiliating to have to ask their help. And the lenders were all eager to provide credit to the new graduate. But I had seen it time and time again where those without work took the easy money only to become saddled with crushing debt. So, I sucked up my pride, stood tall, poked out my chest and took the charity as if I didn't care what others thought. If anything, it gave me more time with Denise and Pea.
Denise was at the kitchen table as she looked over a display. I stood behind her, eating a freeze-dried sandwich.
"What about this one on Merchain?" She pointed at the results of a search she had just run, turning the display so I could see.
I shook my head. "They want a minimum of four years' experience in component fatigue studies. That's electrical. My emphasis was mechanical."
"I thought you minored in electrical?"
"I did. But that hardly equates to four years’ experience. That posting has been up for two months now. I sent in my resume and received a rejection already. Remember? There haven't been any new postings."
"Doesn't seem fair. You got the degree. They shouldn't admit more people to those programs than there are jobs."
I gently squeezed her shoulder. "The market is always changing. A decade ago there was a shortage of engineers. Wages were going through the roof. They were screaming for engineers and everyone wanted in. Now we have a glut. I remember TC saying his father hasn't given raises in three years. I just wish he had come through with that job."
Denise sighed. "Well, to hear him talk, they aren't having any shortage of profit." She turned to face me, looking up sorrowfully from her chair. "I blew your chance with Thomas. Makes me sick to think about it."
I returned a forgiving smile. "Not your fault. If he was a real friend he would have given me a comm, if only to see how things were going."
"Have you contacted him?"
"I sent several messages. No response. I think that door has closed for us."
Denise placed her hand on my arm. "Something will come in. I'm sure of it."
"If not, I'll soon be looking for whatever work I can get. We can't stay here forever. Wouldn't be fair to your parents."
She took my hand into her soft, reassuring grasp. "You don't have to worry about them. They're scrimpers and savers. No debt to speak of. He has his Marine retirement and in three years his civil service pension kicks in. Another two after that, hers. They're in good shape."
We searched the job networks for another hour before I plopped myself down in front of a news channel. The sports news was depressing. Even my teams were doing poorly. I chuckled as I wondered if somehow a vindictive TC Goodall was behind it all—his family having their hands into almost everything. That's when a business news-flash popped on the display.
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