Titan Insurgents

by Kate Rauner

  The pilot shifted back against the screen, facing the group with no one behind him. Dressed in blue as the pilots always were, he commanded attention. "You're safe up here. Going down won't help anyone."

  Erik joined him. His white medic coveralls gained him respectful quiet when he raised a hand. "You'll be more useful if you finish your tour on the station. Your priority is to recover your health. If you want the pilots to make a shuttle run..." The medic turned slightly to Evan. "They should bring more Kin into orbit."

  That started a dozen separate discussions, and the view of the greenhouse split into several squares as people opened more camera feeds.

  Drew heaved a sigh of relief. The station Kin were talking, not fighting. Evan and Erik shifted away from their position against the wall and around to the back of the crowd, letting them talk.

  Drew leaned closer to Tyra. "That woman has a point about food. I can help, maybe."

  "Your bio lab, of course. Can you make chicken?"

  "Vat meat takes months to grow, but with a couple bioreactors, in a week I'll have edible goo."

  Tyra wrinkled her nose. "What would it taste like?"

  "After a little processing, the fastest cellular agriculture I can manage produces something like strawberry jam. But, sorry, I can't make anything like toast."

  "Better than nothing. Maybe you should be our next cohort."

  Drew snorted. "Me? I'm just a lab monkey. Evan's got my vote. Look how he held everyone's attention."

  "Not me." Evan looked thoughtful. "Erik - that's who we want. Everyone's accepted that the medics are neutral, and this station is supposed to be a gravity haven. Maybe we should call the Herschel a hospital, not a station. Let's talk with Erik now."

  ***

  Fynn and Rica pulled pieces of pallets from the tunnel, opening a narrow gap. The air was thick and damp with ventilation blocked off, and the stagnant smell of plastic built up until Fynn was panting to spare his sinuses.

  Grunts from the other side met them as Max's crew dug closer until the cohort's blond head appeared. He was looking down and dragging a bucket between his thick legs. Legs that were clothed in dark green coveralls. Fynn glimpsed crewmates behind him who were also in dark green. A new greenhouse uniform, apparently.

  Max shoved several buckets to Fynn and then stood up. "I'm sorting through the damage, and I started replanting. Whatever produce there is, I'll divide proportionally between you and the Village."

  "We have an extra microwave," Fynn said. "You can take it into the greenhouse to cook for your crew. I assume none of you are going back to the Village at night."

  "Indeed we're not." Max laughed without humor. "Nothing but raw vegetables would be hard on a lot of stomachs, so I thank you. It seems like every newly awakened Kin was assigned to the greenhouse, but it's my core crew that's with me now. I'll keep you and the Village separated until..." His words faded away. Until what? There was no answer.

  "Don't forget the space station," Fynn said. "I can carry food outside for the shuttles to pick up."

  While a few Mechanics lugged buckets from the tunnel, Fynn and Rica unplugged one microwave and carried it to Max. Finally they stuffed broken pallets back into the opening.

  Rica unfastened her escaping ponytail, gathered the tangle of curls in one hand, and twisted her hair band back into place. "I don't see how we can live like this."

  "This standoff can't last. Maliah will see reason."

  "Maliah! She launched this attack."

  "It was..." Fynn bit the words off. He was about to blame Tanaka, but the man was dead. Any video or holo came from Maliah. "Things will change."

  Rica jammed her fists onto her hips. "Nothing's gonna change. Fynn, I know she's your sister, but you've got to look at this with a clear head."

  Fynn remembered feeling sorry at the sight of his sister's red eyes, but he'd been angry too. It wasn't enough to be angry. He'd been a coward, pretending that mourning the baby's death was an excuse to avoid confrontations. And now, pretending that the Kin might return to some tolerable level of hostility. Fynn ran a hand through his hair.

  Rica threw up her hands. "Stop making excuses for her. Maliah's gonna kill you and then she'll come for the rest of us." She stomped off.

  Rica was right. He'd known that for a while. The space station wasn't a magic cure to heal the rift. He squared his shoulders. He had to leave Maliah standing against the Kin with no more than her trustees around her.

  Max was on his side, even if he was currently barricaded in the greenhouse. Emily too, probably. She was scared, but she'd do the right thing. Probably. In the end.

  Newly awakened Kin were confused, but Birgit favored their old earthly governance.

  Fynn bit his lip, thinking about his mother. She was a doctor first, but uniting the Kin was the only way to save them, and they all had to be saved. Kin was family.

  Surely most people realized that fighting threatened their survival. That was the key. Kin would unite when survival was at stake. He'd start with the space station crew and emphasize that Max was their friend.

  Fynn pulled out his pad. Drew, let everyone know that Max has packaged a shipment of food for you guys. Can one of the shuttles come down?

  ***

  Greta slid a flat pad across her desk, not trusting her trembling hands to lift it to a cargo pocket. Evan had told her the Herschel's pilots didn't want to bring any more Kin to the space station until the domes got back to normal.

  Normal!

  She choked off a laugh, afraid it would morph into tears. Normal didn't apply to anything on Titan. She closed her eyes to summon comforting meditation images. An Indus Valley petroglyph of a tree with drooping limbs. A sort of fish walking on its tail. Mysterious symbols no one could read so they meant whatever she needed them to mean. She braced herself with hands spread wide on the desk as a wave of dizziness rose and faded.

  There, that was better. In this moment, she wanted centrifugal treatments for the Kin. Transporting Kin to the space station was her preferred choice, but she still had the Gravitron.

  Greta opened her eyes, pocketed her pad, and left the clinic. No one was nearby and the fans, like giants endlessly exhaling, muffled her footsteps. Maj blocked her way at the tower stairs. Wide-eyed and pale, she told Greta that Maliah was talking with Tanaka and could not be disturbed.

  Greta rolled her shoulders as she walked away, forcing her muscles to relax. All these odd sensations must be due to a lack of sleep. She hadn't slept well in a long time. Not since Yash was killed.

  She needed help but didn't want to burden the other medics. They brought their own problems to her and expected her to be strong. With comms available again, she could access some of Orpheus's therapy programs for her own needs. She promised herself she'd do that later today after she finished her task. Doctor, heal yourself.

  At the tunnel, someone shoved buckets out a narrow slot in the barricades to Emily and a few of her crew. Greta sent Max a message, asking to come through, and crawled after a man in green coveralls once all the buckets were moved.

  She met the big farming cohort near the rows of burbling algae ponds. "I appreciate you sending food out to the Village. I assume you're feeding the Mechanics too?"

  He nodded.

  "Then you're on good terms with that crew. I'd like to set up a schedule for your people to receive Gravitron treatments."

  Max held up a hand. "They won't go, Greta. They're too rattled to leave the greenhouse. We're sending produce out both tunnels, hoping to stop anyone from attacking us."

  Renewed dizziness clouded Greta's vision at the edges, and she reached one hand to the nearby pond wall to steady herself. "I'm going to talk to Fynn now, and to Maliah later. I'll get their agreement to stop future troubles."

  Max's pale eyebrows lowered. "I'm not doubting your good intentions, but my crew isn't likely to believe that until it's proven. Maybe if things stay quiet for a few months. Maybe I agree with them this time." He shrugged an apology. "I'v
e got my core team around me, the ones who are dedicated to the greenhouse. We'll stay right here."

  He cleared the narrow slot through the next tunnel while Greta called Fynn to meet her.

  After a hug, she examined her son's face, and was satisfied to see that the swelling had subsided.

  "I'm pleased that you're maintaining power levels," she said.

  Fynn nodded sharply. "It's enlightened self-interest. The only thing worse than crazy Kin would be desperate Kin."

  "Max seems to share your opinion."

  "Yes. The Herschel's sending a shuttle down now to collect their buckets."

  She could feel good about the space station, at least. Kin there were getting proper medical treatment.

  Greta pointed across the dome. "I'd like to meet with your crew and set up a Gravitron schedule."

  At least she could accomplish that. The Gravitron connected directly to the Mechanics dome, so no other faction was involved. Each patient could receive an hour or two a day of treatment, and as she discussed the plan with those gathered in the little mess hall, Greta's hopes rose. Everyone seemed cooperative.

  Maybe she could accomplish more. "I'd like to send the greenhouse crew through to the Gravitron too."

  Scowls surrounded her and Greta's stomach sank.

  A woman in yellow shook her head. "That would leave a smaller crew between us and the Village."

  Olsen, his freckles blending away as his face reddened, crossed his arms. "I'm not so sure we can trust them anyway. All the trustees are part of the greenhouse crew."

  "I don't think any of the trustees are with Max now," Greta said. But the stony stares didn't soften.

  Fynn walked her back to the tunnel. "Mom, you don't look well."

  "Just tired." But something was slipping inside. All Greta could think of was getting back to the clinic, to the privacy of her office. She forced cheerfulness into her voice. "Didn't you say you were going outside? Don't worry about me. I'll call Max to clear the tunnel. You don't have to wait."

  She didn't want Fynn to see her now. Her breath rasped in her throat, hot and dry. The heavy smell of plastic burned her nose and eyes.

  She was failing the Kin. An image of her husband's broken body flashed through her mind. She'd been too late to save him too.

  Trembling, she gasped with relief as the plastic fell away in front of her. Her body rigid, she hurried past whoever was nearby, not glancing to the side. Step, step, step, her feet hit the floor numbly. A path opened through the tunnel to the Village, and no one met her there. Step, step, step. Greta broke into a run. The clinic hall was empty. She'd made it. She closed her office door and collapsed on the sofa, hugging herself tight.

  ***

  Fynn welcomed a chance to get out on Titan's surface. Tension drained from him as he suited up and waited for the airlock pressure to equalize. With Orpheus monitoring suit comms, no one could sneak up on him, and no one was likely to try.

  Lukas accompanied him, of course. He never passed up a chance to go outside, especially when he thought rain was likely. His prediction might be right since the air seemed hazy. A thin fog of aerosols reduced visibility and hid the lake so the shoreline melted directly into the brownish sky.

  Fynn bent backward to aim his faceplate straight up. "I don't see any yellow blur overhead."

  "We're looking at Saturn's night side," Lukas said. "Might see a thin crescent if we were in space, but it's not bright enough to penetrate the hydrocarbon haze. Better turn on helmet lights, guys."

  Rica was right behind them, and Ben and a few others. To transport six buckets of potatoes, beans, and whatever else Max had packed for the Herschel, Fynn had eight assistants. They hauled out fliers too. The shuttle was in the main landing zone on the domes' other side.

  The pilots wouldn't dock a shuttle, not even one piloted solely by Orpheus as the Demeter was now, so it waited beyond the Village dock. Demeter was Tyra's shuttle, so maybe Drew's silver tongue had contributed to the trip. Or maybe the station was simply short on food. Hunger wouldn't make the few dozen Kin in orbit any easier to get along with.

  The boxy shuttle sat on its landing struts. Not needing to crawl to the dock, its wheels remained securely tucked up in its underbelly. Fynn landed at the hatch.

  Titan's brutally cold atmosphere flooded into the cargo bay, freezing the compartment's air into a glaze of frost that sparkled in their helmet lights. Six buckets looked pitifully small stowed against the cargo bay's forward bulkhead, but Fynn refused to worry about the Kin's fragile existence. Being outside was his chance to relax.

  Once the hatch was secure, Orpheus warned them to back away until its safety protocol was satisfied. The shuttle lumbered into the air on a combination of vertical thrusters and engines under its stubby wings. Titan's dense atmosphere tumbled around Fynn. He tapped his flier to life and rode the engine wash like a wave. Laughter crackled over the suit comms as his crewmates joined him.

  "Rain." Lukas's voice rose happily.

  It was a light shower, and visibility improved as droplets washed the fog away. A rivulet trickled down Fynn's faceplate. He held one hand out. A few drop were large enough to splash on the glove.

  "I want to see the shuttle refuel," Ben called over comms.

  "And I need to check my rain gauge," Lukas said. "Follow me. Add more infrared to your helmet displays. It's getting dark."

  Lukas was right again, and the improved visibility was comforting.

  "I'm going to check the methane pump," Fynn said. Rica, hovering next to him, pointed a thumb back at herself to say she was coming too. Fynn switched to a different suit channel and held out his sleeve pad for her to see his selection.

  Rica tapped her own sleeve. "I'm here."

  Fynn tilted his flier. "I really should check the pump, but what I'm hoping for is to see some ghosts. Rain seems to encourage them, and this is the heaviest storm I've seen."

  "I figured that. I like seeing them too. They're weird."

  They landed at the clear edge of methane with their lights reflecting on the rain-dappled surface.

  "Change your spectrum display," Fynn said. "Increase sensitivity in the ghosts' blue wavelength."

  The pale surface shimmered as far as he could see.

  Rica pointed. "Is that a wave?"

  Fynn gasped and stumbled back a step, his mind at first translating the glow into a tsunami, but the sight snapped into perspective. A wide ghost twice his height drifted toward them.

  A single step kept them out of its way, since the ghost paused with its leading edge touching the ice sand of the shore. That edge seemed darker, mottled with gray. A lighter colored ring floated near the ghost's center, visible through the murky skin.

  Fynn pushed along the shore a few steps. "It's huge and sitting right over the submersible pump. The methane does churn a bit above the intake. Maybe it's stuck."

  He tossed a pebble at the ghost. The ice chip disappeared in the glow without any apparent effect.

  "Rica, did you bring any tools?"

  She fished a handful from her suit's cargo pocket. "Of course."

  Fynn selected the longest screwdriver. "Turn on your helmet cams. Drew will want to see this."

  He approached the ghost and poked it. Nothing happened. He slipped the shank in all the way to the handle. "I wonder if I could cut a porthole and see inside." He slowly moved the driver in a circle but it left no mark at all.

  "It's just a film of light," Rica said.

  "It's got to be made of something. I'm not cutting a big enough hole."

  Fynn swung his arm to scribe a larger circle. The driver sprung from his hand and disappeared into the ghost.

  Rica shot an arm out, her glove following the driver into the blue glow. "Whoa!" She tried to pull back, but her feet slid on the rain-lubricated sand.

  Fynn lunged for her, catching her other arm, and they flopped over, scrambling away from the ghost.

  "What happened?" Fynn gasped. "Why'd you yell?"

 
"My hand tingled. Something touched me."

  "Check your suit. Power level? Heaters? Does your hand feel cold?"

  "No. I'm fine."

  Fynn leaned back on his elbows and stared at the ghost. It sat serenely, without a ripple. He grinned, even though no one could see his face. "This is Titan, right here in front of us. This is what we've got to learn about."

  Rica slapped the sand. "That was my favorite screwdriver."

  "Maybe it fell into the methane. It can't be far from shore. I'll look for it sometime when it's not raining. I wish Drew could see this for himself. I wish everyone could."

  Chapter 24

  M aliah was sore all over, and neither sitting nor laying down offered relief. She stood in the middle of the tower room and faced Tanaka's desk. He sat there, his bald head reflecting light, the close-cropped white beard and smiling grandfatherly eyes exactly as she remembered.

  "Your task is nearly complete, my dear. My legacy is nearly assured."

  "But everything's wrong. I lost Rhea." Could her daughter truly be gone? Maliah thought saying it out loud would bring tears, but she felt numb.

  "As the first Titan, she was destined for martyrdom."

  "I should have listened to Mom. Babies aren't scheduled for another year." That would have allowed time for the space station to start up.

  But the station was spinning today. Heat surged through her chest. Anger instead of grief. She would have been on the station. She'd planned everything with Magnus. That skinny vulture was the one who botched it.

  Her words came out with a whine. "It wasn't my fault."

  "The ancient lore foretold these events. You are my golden girl, born from a perfect Viking queen and the dark shadow that was your father."

  With Tanaka's voice in her ears, the numbness returned. Much better.

  Maliah pulled out a packet of pills. "Mom gave these to me. She said they'll help me enjoy life again. How can she be wrong? She loves me, and you call her a Viking queen."

  "Poison."

  She hurled the packet as if it was on fire. It weighed nothing in Titan's gravity and laughably fluttered a few inches from her fingertips before drifting away in a ventilation current.