Titan Insurgents

by Kate Rauner

  Maliah was empty. That seemed wrong. She should feel triumph. Satisfaction. Something. "I wish I shared their joy."

  "My poor golden girl. You expected the joy of Rhea nestled in your arms." Tanaka's words whispered inside her. "What can replace that?"

  "Nothing."

  Blue coveralls were black in the dim red illumination. Only circles of motion filled the playing field, dotted by reflections from pale Viking faces.

  A different movement caught her eye. A shiny surface suit almost glowed under the red lights. The figure moved with a lanky stride.

  It was Fynn.

  Her adjuncts had failed, but she didn't blame them. They had to fail. Tanaka's words, once vague and obscure, suddenly became clear. Fynn was her nemesis and only she could deal with him.

  Maliah watched her brother slip through the airlock door. "He doesn't deserve Titan." Was that Tanaka whispering or her own voice?

  A second surface suit and flier lay against the wall inside. Fynn's beacon throbbed inside her head. She could track him.

  Maliah smiled and stepped inside.

  ***

  Fynn held his breath as he gripped the hatch handle, hoping Max had unjammed the door before leaving on Evan's shuttle.

  He could cheat and sneak inside through the Mechanics dome's airlock. Then he'd be close if Ben or Lukas needed his help with the equipment. And he'd be with Rica. But if anyone outside his crew spotted him, Kin would break apart again.

  Funny. A few months ago, any excuse to escape to the station would have been a huge relief. To hang out with Drew onboard the Herschel and play with the manufacturing equipment was everything he'd wanted. Instead, here he was, trying to justify hiding in the domes. Fynn shook his head.

  The hatch door popped open easily and he stepped over the lip.

  Max stood in front of him.

  Fynn's guts turned to stone. He dropped the flier and twisted his helmet off. "Max. I thought you boarded the shuttle. What're you doing here?"

  "I can't leave the greenhouse now. My hydroponics need repair and there's so much replanting to be done."

  Fynn's words tumbled out in a rush. "But I've got to open the outer door and leave right away. Switch your coveralls to blue and join the Village rally."

  "I was planning to slip into the greenhouse after the playing field cleared."

  "Go now. Maliah accepted everyone back into the Village, including your crewmates who got stuck in the greenhouse. You'll be safe with them."

  Max frowned. He looked ready to argue.

  "No one's going to notice you if you join the rally," Fynn said. "Besides, if you want to get the greenhouse back into production, you've got to run your crew in full view of everyone. The only way to be our farming cohort is to join the Kin while Maliah's handing out amnesties. Greta can explain more, but you must go now."

  Max thumped Fynn's shoulder on his way out. Fynn twisted his helmet into place and opened the outer door.

  He set comms to the Herschel's channel. "Drew, you there? I'm exiting the Village airlock and heading south along the shore to the fuel depot."

  "I'm following you, buddy. Tyra's on her way in the Demeter to pick you up."

  Rica's voice came through on a suit channel. "Hi Fynn. I almost gave up. You're later than I expected."

  Fynn spun on his heels, searching for her. It was so dark that his helmet light barely reached the ground at his feet. He held a gloved hand in front of the light. Thick trickles of methane ran down his palm leaving dark streaks. Heavier hydrocarbons were falling with the rain.

  "Rica. Are you out here? Are you coming to the station with me?"

  "Sorry. Not till the medics send me. But I wanted to say goodbye."

  "You double-checked your boot seals, didn't you? And gloves? It's raining."

  "No kidding, and, yes, I checked my seals." She touched down in front of him. "What took you so long?"

  Telling Rica that the adjuncts had jumped him would only upset her. She might want to confront them, and he wouldn't give her temper any excuse. Better to keep moving. "Do you have any more surprises for me?"

  "Wait till you see the lake."

  The flutters in his stomach subsided. Rica was giving him the chance for one more flight together before he shuttled to the Herschel leaving her, his crew, and Titan twelve thousand kilometers behind. He hopped on behind her. "Let's go."

  The flier carried them above the curve of the domes and he gasped. The lake roiled with misty light from flocks of ghosts shifting under a surface cratered with raindrops.

  Rica landed at the furnace dome's airlock.

  "Why don't you come with me back inside?" she asked.

  "I thought about that, but I can't. Everyone gets a trip to the station, and Mom will send you up soon, so this isn't goodbye. I'll see you before long."

  Fynn gripped both her gloved hands. "I'm sorry we didn't have more time together, just the two of us."

  "Don't worry," she said. "We'll have time onboard the station. Now be careful. You better take my flier. The wind's getting stronger. I can feel it pushing on my suit."

  Fynn could too, along with the slap of rain against his helmet. "I'll fly higher in case there are downdrafts." Rica stepped inside and the door closed.

  The lake had never been so agitated. Fynn stopped at the pump, but despite the rain and lights shifting beneath the methane's surface, the system was operating as usual. Laying a hand on the outlet pipe, he could feel familiar vibrations as methane flowed to the furnaces inside.

  With a twist of the flier's controls, Fynn rose into the air, leaning into the unusual wind.

  Chapter 27

  A ll along the shore, blobs and swatches of pale light flowed beneath the lake's surface. Glowing foam crept onto the sand. Fynn hovered to watch as one pile grew into a soft-edged, waist high column. He aimed the flier's down draft, breaking the foam into globs of bubbles that drifted slower than seemed reasonable in the wind. Farther out on the lake, a translucent arch rose.

  Fynn flipped on his helmet camera, slowed his flight toward the depot, and opened a channel to the Herschel. "Fynn to shuttle. How long before you land?"

  "This is Kana, and I'll touch down in about thirty minutes."

  "I'm going to fly a little farther down the coast, but I'll be back in time to meet you."

  More translucent arches formed overlapping ridges above the mottled lake. Drew was going to be fascinated by the images.

  Wham.

  Pain exploded along Fynn's spine. He writhed away from the hard backpack, gripping the flier's handles as his feet slipped off the platform.

  Something had slammed into him.

  Fynn blinked away the tears blurring his vision and fumbled his boots back onto the footrest. A different comm light flicked at his jawline, and his sister's voice blared in his ear.

  "You're getting better, little brother. I thought that would knock you loose."

  "Maliah!" Once, she would have followed to play in the rain, or maybe to say goodbye. That was a long time ago. Today, she tried to kill him, there was no doubt about that. Shun and Trina wouldn't have attacked him on their own.

  "Maliah, I'm keeping our deal. I'm leaving the domes."

  Her voice was cold. "Yeah, and never coming back."

  He shook his head to lift the hair out of his eyes. "I don't want to fight with you."

  "Then stop running."

  His flier spiraled up as Fynn searched for Maliah in the darkness. One good, angled collision would drop her into the lake to freeze in its depths. But he couldn't kill his sister.

  Keeping his crew safe and reuniting the Kin, that was his goal, and he'd won. He and Maliah, they'd done it together. She wouldn't see it that way, but she'd done the right thing for the Kin.

  He'd knock her off her flier over land and see how she liked the long walk back to the domes.

  A glint of orange reflected from a flier's central column, and Fynn yanked himself away as she dove, clipped his elbow, and sent a stab of
fire through his arm.

  He dodged, and she missed him on her next dive, disappearing again into the gloom.

  "Are you crazy?" His helmet blocked his view to the side. He spun the flier and glanced at the palm-sized control pad between its handles. The beacon. He'd left the flier's beacon on, proclaiming his location. He swiped to the proper screen and slapped it off.

  His suit too. Its beacon was active. He twisted his left arm for a better view of the sleeve pad. If he found the right screen and turned it off, maybe he could plunge down, skim along the ground, and lose his sister that way.

  Maliah rocketed at him from below.

  The suit's neck ring smashed into his cheek drawing fresh blood from the cut Shun had left, and he lost his grip on the flier. It tumbled away into the rain but something yanked him upward.

  She'd grabbed the hoses to his backpack. The pack lifted off his spine, and Fynn was forced against the front of his suit. She was spinning him, and Fynn twisted to reach for her hands.

  He flew free from the spin, but he'd never touched her gloves. The hose broke and an alarm sounded. Fynn's pulse pounded in his ears as he glided across the sky.

  On his long, lazy arc, Fynn could see the two-way connection attached to the suit below his jaw, but the supply hose was gone leaving only a stub. He grabbed it at the neck ring and squeezed his fist tight, sealing in whatever air filled his helmet. He gasped in a stale lungful.

  He hadn't hit the ground when another voice came over comms. Dropping at Titan's terminal velocity gave him a moment to realize who'd joined them. It was Maj, but she wasn't talking to him. She called to Maliah.

  He twisted enough to see a second flier above him, hovering with his sister. "Maj, help me."

  "What's happening?" Fear edged Maj's voice. "The lake's boiling with lights. He's falling into them."

  Maliah's voice cut through Maj's ragged breathing. "Let Titan take him."

  "We need to get inside. I promised Doctor Tanaka that I'd care for you. Let me take you back to the domes." Maj sounded panicky.

  They were gone before Fynn hit the ground and slid, his fist squeezed tightly around the hose stub, until a lump of ice caught his hip. One-handed, he reached across his body and fumbled for the cargo pocket on his leg, the one with a repair kit. The thick glove couldn't get hold of the flap.

  Fynn clenched his jaws and thumped a useless fist against the rock-hard ground. His helmet was suffocating and there wasn't much time left.

  At the center of his vision, a luminous film swayed like a ragged flag.

  A ghost. Fynn wasn't dead, not yet. The ghost's surface was almost within reach, and it looked more substantial than anything he'd seen before. Maybe that skin, whatever it was, was solid. Maybe he could use that to wrap the hose.

  Fynn lurched forward and was surrounded overhead and all around by a bluish glow. He was inside the ghost. The surface gave way like nothing, it was no help at all, and the ghost engulfed him.

  I hope Drew's right and it'll take a long time to eat me.

  The repair kit was his last hope, and he needed both hands to extract it. But letting go of the hose stub meant cold nitrogen would flood the helmet. That would kill him in an instant.

  Fynn sucked in a damp, choking lungful of helmet air and let go of the stub at his neck. Exhaling steadily and slowly, he tried to make one lungful of air keep out Titan's atmosphere while he worked. Fynn opened the cargo pocket with both hands and pulled out two plastic boxes.

  His ribs ached with the effort to exhale. With his last bit of self-control, Fynn panted in a tiny breath.

  His throat burned. His nose pinched shut. He coughed.

  But he didn't die.

  On his knees and panting as little air in and out as possible, Fynn snapped open the kit and set the box within easy reach. The line from the backpack brushed his hip and he pulled it toward his face to examine the break.

  The hose had pulled loose from a coupling. He twisted the worthless connector off, held a nice, smooth length of hose to the stub at his neck, clamped on the kit's cylindrical clamshell, and pushed a button on its side.

  He should have paid more attention to the training videos. Were there surge valves protecting his air supply in the pack? Did he need to suck in a deep breath to reinitialize the system? He couldn't recall. Frost bloomed in streaks across his faceplate. As his vision dimmed, Fynn lay on his side away from the broken hose to give the clamshell time to finish its repair.

  "Fynn." A voice roused him. "I'm at the depot. What's going on?" That was Kana. "Orpheus landed the shuttle. I can't see anything in this fog."

  Fynn stood. A translucent film of fog surrounded him. He aimed for the dimmest patch, held out his hands, and shuffled forward. He picked his way slowly, stumbling occasionally over ice pebbles, always walking into the dimmest part of the surrounding glow, until he emerged into darkness.

  "I can't see your shuttle," he said. "Or the depot."

  The repair cylinder fell from his neck ring and he touched the air hose. Squashed on one side, it wasn't a very good repair. He doubted he'd get the full specified flow rate. But he was breathing. "Orpheus, send the decapods to me. I'll ride one back to the depot."

  "I've turned one of the shuttle's cameras on the bot," Kana said. "It's moving. I hope it knows where you are."

  "I am receiving a strong signal from Fynn's suit," Orpheus said in its soothing voice. "The decapod will arrive at his location in approximately nine minutes."

  What luck. Maliah had yanked him off the flier before he had time to deactivate the suit beacon.

  Too numb to be frightened, Fynn scanned the shore. Ghosts massed in single bubbles and piles of foam for as far as he could see. Like upside down tear drops, a few bubbles rose into the dark sky as if they were toy balloons. Their bluish light faded to gray and disappeared.

  Fynn checked his helmet cam. Still recording. A smile spread over his wide face. Drew was gonna love the images.

  ***

  Maj slid their backpacks into the airlock's charging stations and helped Maliah out of her suit. "What was that glow in the lake?"

  Contentment warmed Maliah from her toes to her fingertips. "You saw the Old Ones. Tanaka said we would find them. There are ancient legends of gods rising from a lake. I need to go back to the tower and do some research, but the Old Ones swallowed my nemesis. Doctor Tanaka foretold this day."

  Maliah stepped from the airlock, leaving Maj to seal the hatch door. Medics stood on the furnace platform, which seemed odd, but there was no mistaking their white coveralls. Her path ambled among bins and pallets, their shiny white surfaces glaring so brightly that she lowered her eyes. A harsh stench filled her head. After time in a surface suit's scrubbed air, she noticed the smell of plastic again.

  The greenhouse was a pleasant change. She kicked her feet through drifts of sweet leaves, crunching them underfoot. In the Village, Kin circled on the playing field, oblivious to her return.

  An ache touched the center of her chest. So much had been sacrificed to achieve Tanaka's vision, and the mission wasn't complete yet. She shook her head, banishing doubts. She was strong. She was the Kin's golden girl.

  She'd succeeded. Now that ridiculous Cohort Council could be useful. They could handle the trivia of daily life and leave her free to study Tanaka's files more closely.

  "You're not thinking of joining the rally?" Maj asked, her face full of concern. "You should rest. You're still recovering."

  From Rhea's birth. From Rhea's death. Maj didn't say the words, but they echoed in Maliah's mind.

  "No, I'm not joining the rally tonight. Would you bring me something to eat?"

  Inside the tower room, Maliah faced the molded desk. Tanaka's grandfatherly smile greeted her. The flat pad on his desk contained more journal entries where she'd find details of his vision for paradise that must be implemented.

  But not tonight. She flopped on the lounge sofa and tapped her sleeve. "Maj, bring a tin of cookies when you come."

 
; ***

  Onboard the station, Fynn propped his elbow on a green table, and Drew set down two steaming cups. Fynn touched his cup but it was too hot to wrap his hands around. "Tea? With sugar?"

  Drew nodded. "For you. I've had my share and it's almost gone, so mine is hot water. Now, tell me again about the ghosts. I downloaded data from your suit. The sensors recorded an ambient temperature of almost seventy below zero while you patched your air hose."

  Fynn inhaled the cup's steam and coughed.

  "You okay?" Drew asked. "Erik told me you've got pneumonia in an upper lung lobe, so don't try to hide anything. You should be taking it easy."

  "I should be dead."

  "You should have gotten a snoot full of Titan's atmosphere. Nothing but nitrogen, and at two hundred below, not merely a balmy minus seventy. So, yeah. You're dead. Nothing but a figment of my imagination."

  "Why was the atmosphere only seventy below, and why didn't I suffocate?"

  Drew stroked his pale mustache. "You were inside a ghost."

  Fynn smiled. "It has to mean that ghosts are alive."

  "Well, oxygen is a waste product from some biochemical reactions. Heat too. Apparently, a ghost's interior is something special."

  "It saved me."

  Drew snorted. "Not because t cared. If it did save you, it was by accident."

  "You seem pretty interested in an accident."

  "I'm just glad you survived. I'd miss you." Drew wrinkled his long, crooked nose into his favorite cute expression, but a frown returned quickly. "The ghosts never looked like giant bubbles before the rains started. I've got to study your videos in detail."

  "Lukas says the rainy season lasts for years, so you have plenty of time."

  "You have time too, now that you're onboard to stay. But I suppose all you want to do is print valves and solenoids and..." Drew waved a hand. "Whatever, for your furnaces."