by M. D. Cooper
Singh had arranged to have the elevator serviced, and a company that specialized in custom systems had put in all the electronics required for her products to function. Isa had also created artworks that served as introductions to the deeper experiences that visitors would participate in.
But there was one corner that remained empty. Though she possessed plenty of recordings she could use to create another installation to fill the space, Isa had in mind a special Trojan landscape area she hadn’t yet visited. She only had to finish up at the gallery before collecting Jude from daycare and taking him on another ‘venture’, as he called their jaunts around Troy.
The door chime sounded. Isa was puzzled as to who could have arrived. She wasn’t expecting Singh, and he would have contacted her over the Link anyway. No service workers were due.
She stepped into the elevator and rode it down to the first floor. Wondering if word had gotten out about the gallery and a visitor had turned up too early, she walked to the door and opened it.
A tall, thin woman stood on the stoop. Her clothing was so remarkable, Isa couldn’t stop herself from staring. A small, cylindrical scarlet hat perched on the visitor’s head, and a peacock blue feather sprouted from it, arching backward over her head and reaching as far as her hips. The woman wore a tight skirt suit the same color as the hat, with gold buttons. The suit’s sleeves stopped at her elbows, and the skirt ended a centimeter below her buttocks. Her long legs were tattooed in abstract patterns all the way down to her feet, which barely balanced her in impossibly high heels.
“Ms. Chen. Delighted to make your acquaintance.” The woman’s smile was so wide, her head threatened to split in two.
Finally, the penny dropped.
Singh had told Isa in passing that he would introduce her to some of his friends in the upper echelons of the Trojan art world. She guessed this had to be one of them.
“You’re, er….”
“That’s right! Elora Pennypuddy.” She held out her hand, long-fingered and bony. “Jahil told me all about your little endeavor.”
When Isa shook the woman’s hand, she felt like she was being held in an ore manipulator.
Pennypuddy released Isa from her grip and folded her arms while looking at her expectantly.
“Would you like to, er, come in?” Isa asked, pointlessly hoping her visitor would say no. She didn’t like the look of the woman and, more importantly, she had plans in mind for her and Jude.
“I would love to,” Pennypuddy replied. “I’m dying to see what you’re doing.”
Isa hesitated. She didn’t want to offend the woman, who was probably influential in the nascent art scene on Troy. On the other hand, she had just turned up out of the blue and expected to be let in, which was rude. She was already peering nosily over Isa’s head at the gallery beyond, her eyes hard and critical.
Isa was beginning to feel as though Pennypuddy was less a kindred spirit, and more a scout, sent by the gaggle of other self-important people in Troy’s art circles to snoop on what she was doing and report back. Clearly, whatever Singh had told them had excited their curiosity but hadn’t been sufficient to satisfy it.
“I’m sorry,” Isa said, “on second thought, it’s really inconvenient for me to see anyone right now. I was on my way out.”
Pennypuddy started with shock. “You’re going out? But I traveled a long way to get here. Are you sure you can’t spare even a few minutes? Do you know who I am?” The last sentence was delivered with mounting outrage.
“I’m new to Troy, I’ve no idea who you are.” And I care even less, Isa added mentally. “I only want to run an art business here, so if you wouldn’t mind….” She began to close the door.
The corner of Pennypuddy’s lip lifted. “I guess I can forgive your ignorance, but this isn’t how things run here.”
“Like I said, I have to go.”
Her unwelcome visitor was glaring at her. Could the woman hurt her business if she was offended? Isa had a lot riding on her venture’s success: invested credits and time, and her own sense of achievement. She relented a little.
“Would you like to attend the opening event?” she offered.
Pennypuddy looked a tad mollified. “I may be able to, if I’m free. I’ll have to check.”
“Great. I’ll send you an invite.”
Isa closed the door.
* * * * *
That afternoon, Isa was happy to dismiss Elora Pennypuddy from her mind as she flew her aircar through a pass in a mountain range, angling the vessel to sweep smoothly down to her destination: a wide grassland that bordered the Black Sea. The area was entirely deserted, which suited her just fine. She would be free to record all she wanted without fear of disturbing anyone or being disturbed herself.
The aircar was on long-term lease, and although Isa felt a little guilty at the extravagance, she couldn’t deny that it made touring Troy so much easier. To reach her current location without flying in, she would have had to take the newly built maglev across the Sea of Marmara, change at the stop on the Syracuse coast, take another maglev to the end of the line, and then hail an autocab, by which time, Jude would already be tired and hungry.
As it was, the little boy was playing contentedly with the shells Martin had brought home for him the previous night. Isa set down the aircar on an upward slope within walking distance of the water. She wanted to record an approach to the sea as well as the sea itself and the surrounding mountains.
“Here we are,” she said. “Ready for another adventure?”
“Yes! ’Nother ’venture.”
Jude fiddled with the lock to his safety straps, trying to open it himself. Isa undid the device and opened the door of the pinnace. Instantly, a sun-warmed, rich scent filled the vehicle. Not far away, meadow birds were singing.
Isa grabbed her bag of equipment, climbed out, and walked around the other side of the aircar to lift Jude down before he grew too impatient and decided to take a flying leap to freedom.
“Wheeeeeeeee,” the little boy exclaimed.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, he started off, running through the long grass.
Isa had discovered during her son’s short life that he had an unerring instinct for heading toward the most dangerous part of the landscape. The shore of the Black Sea lay a couple of hundred meters distant, and Jude was pelting full speed in its direction as fast as his little legs could go.
Fortunately, Isa thought, that isn’t very fast. “Jude,” she called, “wait for Mommy Isa.”
Her words didn’t slow the boy down one bit. Isa closed up the pinnace and set off after him, carrying her equipment and pointlessly calling his name. When she caught up to him after a few minutes, she gently told him off and made him hold her hand.
“But look,” Jude protested, pointing ahead.
His advice was unneeded. Despite the antics of her small companion, Isa had barely taken her eyes off the view that spread out in front of them. The scene was exactly as it had appeared on the holo she’d seen earlier: white-peaked mountains reflected in the still, dark waters of the inland sea. Yet being there, feeling the breeze wafting up toward the icy slopes and smelling the scent of wildflowers it carried, made everything so much better. The scene wasn’t a sight, it was an experience, exactly the kind of thing she wanted to capture.
But Isa guessed that Jude wasn’t pointing at the view. The minute he’d left the aircar he’d spotted the expanse of water.
In many ways, he truly was his father’s child.
He was tugging on her hand, dragging her toward the shoreline. Isa felt he deserved some exercise after being cooped up in the aircar for quite a while.
“Should we run?” she asked him.
“Yes,” Jude yelled.
Laughing, Isa ran with him the last fifty meters or so to the margin of the Black Sea. After crossing the tall, rough grass that bordered the beach, she flopped onto the sand. Jude had other ideas.
He pulled off his shoes and socks and flung th
em down. Then he took off his pants and tossed them aside; lastly, he attacked the buttons of his shirt. His features began to twist in frustration as he hurried to free himself of his final item of clothing.
“Come over here,” Isa said. “I’ll help you.”
Jude did as she asked, but waited impatiently, his feet shuffling and his gaze fixed on the water that lapped the beach. Isa undid his shirt and pulled one of his arms out of the sleeve, and Jude immediately set off for the water, tugging his other arm out of the shirt while Isa held onto it.
The little naked boy flew across the sand and ran straight into the sea, his cry of ‘Wheeeee!’ cut off by his sudden submersion.
Yes, Jude was his father’s son. Isa had often wondered if Martin had deliberately added some kind of crazy-about-swimming gene when he’d created Jude. Erin had certainly teased him enough about the possibility that he had snuck in something from a marine organism. But perhaps Jude’s love of open water was only due to Martin taking the little boy with him into the Med so often.
Jude resurfaced and began happily swimming in circles a little way beyond the shore.
“Don’t go any deeper,” Isa warned.
He always obeyed the strict rule regarding his range when he was alone in the water, but Isa always reminded him just in case.
While her son worked off the energy he’d built up during their flight, Isa began to record the stunning surroundings. She sent out drones to skim at their top speed just above the water, racing toward the distant mountains. Others were already flying upward to capture aerial views.
Isa’s old boss at Placement Services had given her permission to use all the raw material she’d gathered on Tyre for the infomentary she’d made, and while she’d been living on Carthage, she’d recorded similar material. That only left Athens to add to her collection.
Athens. Isa sighed.
She’d been so disappointed she hadn’t been able to return there with Erin and Martin. Though the other three planets were each lovely in their own way, there was something special about the fourth world of New Canaan. The fact that it hadn’t yet quite settled down geologically gave it an edge, a sense of danger that thrilled the spirit. It was no wonder that most visitors went a little crazy there—the way they might behave if they only had a short time to live.
After the day’s work, she could create the final installation, and her gallery would soon be completed. In two weeks, she would hold the grand opening event. If her business began to operate smoothly, she might be able to take some time off for a hard-earned rest, though she would have to persuade Martin and Erin to also take a break.
“Jude,” she called, “time to eat.”
The little boy broke off from completing yet another circle and headed toward the shore.
Singh’s mental voice broke through her musings.
Instantly worrying, Isa said,
Singh replied,
Now thoroughly alarmed, Isa said,
Isa wondered if she should contact him again for more of an assurance that he would fix any damage the protesters caused. Singh was sympathetic to their movement, after all. Perhaps he was even taking part in the rally.
As Jude plunked down next to her on the blanket, Isa began to pull the feed from her drones and take out the lunch she’d packed.
Why couldn’t the Trojans go through the normal processes if they wanted something to change? The gripes and grumbles of New Canaanites who had spent hardly any time out of stasis after leaving Sol were usually amusing to Isa, but she found Trojans’ complaints annoying. Even though many of them were Taranians, they had no idea what true suffering was. In her mind, they were behaving like babies.
Troy was beginning to simmer with trouble. Isa only hoped that when the pot boiled over, no one she cared about would be scalded.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
STELLAR DATE: 04.26.8941 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Messene Station
REGION: Troy, New Canaan System
Someone was coming up the strand and Erin checked the feeds to see who it could be. The space station was nowhere near operational, and very few personnel had the security access to make an impromptu visit.
Before she had pulled up the elevator car’s optics, a voice came into her mind.
Erin busied herself with completing a progress report for Tanis. She would have to send a copy to the Trojan government too, so she was careful to not include any commentary on Troy or its political climate. That wasn’t hard because not a single politician from the world below had contacted her. It was as if they’d forgotten all about the massive space station that was being constructed right above their heads.
The government’s lack of interest was unusual, but Erin wasn’t concerned. In fact, she was pleased about its non-interference. There was a lot to be said for not having to explain the finer details of orbital engineering to people who didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
The station’s long arms were now in place, anchored by the additional strands, and the spaceport—set in the lower levels of the central tetrahedron—was nearly finished. Crews were busily installing the cradles that would hold the ships. Linch and MacCarthy were handling the service lines to the shells of internal structures that had already been constructed in the framework. Next on Erin’s schedule of work was building the maglev lines that would run the entire length of the station.
The place was slotting together like a gigantic puzzle. In a few months, it would be complete, and Erin knew from experience that she would feel a little sad because the fun was over. But no doubt Tanis already had another project in mind for her.
She monitored the elevator car’s progress as it climbed the strand, and tried to guess why Tony was paying them a visit. This was the third time. I guess he doesn’t have anything better to do.
She quickly finished off the final section of her report, adding a visual of the latest stage of the construction. She sent one copy in a packet to Tanis at Landfall, and another copy to the Trojan Office of Extraplanetary Development. She had no doubt it would lie in someone’s queue unread for months, if not forever.
The elevator had reached the station as she completed her report, and a few minutes later, Tony walked into the control room.
“I’m not sure what it is about this place that’s so enticing,” Erin said, “but it’s good to see you again. What have you been doing? Any news from Heliopolis?”
“I haven’t been doing anything interesting. No good news, that’s for sure. I’m here to report my sentence is coming to an end; I’ll be leaving soon and I wanted to say goodbye.”
“You’re leaving Troy?” she asked. “Damn. I meant to ask you to come over to our place for dinner one evening, but I kept forgetting.”
“Don’t worry,” Tony said. “Another time. I’m catching the first flight to Athens tomorrow.”
“Athens? Sweet,” said Erin. “I went there once, but I could only stay for a couple of days. Are you going on vacation or
are you there to work?”
“I have some work to do. The regular earthquakes as the planet’s crust settles aren’t so regular now. I’m going to work with the geologists to see if inconsistency isn’t a symptom of something more serious. We might have to adjust the position of the orbital PETER and change its energy extraction locations so we can alter magma heat and density in a few regions.”
“Damn…I’d love to spend some time seeing how the PETER works. Are there risks to the surface?” Erin asked. “I’d hate for that place to be out of bounds. I’m hoping to go back with my spouses as soon as we get some free time.”
“From what I understand, it doesn’t. I might send our analysis out to the Transcend ships for them to relay to the FGT before we move the PETER, but it probably isn’t anything to be concerned about,” said Tony. “I don’t think that after terraforming countless thousands of worlds, the FGT got it wrong with this one. But it’ll give me something to do.”
“Well, if you’re traveling there on the Odyssey, say hi to Mikkail, the cocktail waiter for me. And if he suggests that you try a Slippery Black Hole, ignore him.”
Tony chuckled. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Core,” MacCarthy chimed in from his station. “I’ve drunk a Slippery Black Hole. I only know I had one for sure; I don’t remember anything after it. Even my mods were blacked out.”
Erin snorted, but didn’t challenge MacCarthy’s obvious hyperbole.
“I visited Mikkail’s cocktail lounge too,” said Linch. “I don’t remember a thing about the entire trip. But I was drinking Quantums, which seem to affect you before you drink them. I’m not sure, though. Never did figure that out.”
“I had a Quantum once,” Erin said. She frowned. “That explains a lot.”
“Whoa,” Tony said, laughing, “OK, I get it. No cocktails at Mikkail’s lounge.”
“Oh no, that isn’t what we mean,” Erin said. “If you don’t drink cocktails on the Odyssey, your trip isn’t complete.”