by London, Lia
I chewed the inside of my cheeks to keep from smiling. Spaceys were always so overwhelmed by full gravity. It crippled them, sometimes for weeks while they gained the strength to walk, and by then, many gave up and took the next transit option home.
“How long did you stay?” I asked.
“Seventeen days.” She sniffed.
I smiled. “It’s a very relaxing place to soak up Surface sun without all the bad weather. At least not this time of year.”
“So I’m told,” she said. “But I do wish the temperatures were more regular. Blazing in the day, and so cold at night.”
“Yes,” I agreed with as much sympathy as I could feign. “It does vary quite drastically.” Perhaps six degrees Celsius on any given day, but for spaceys, it was enough to complain about.
She gave me an appraising frown. “You handled it all right, though?”
“Perhaps I’ve been there more often.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever go again.” She gave a heavy sigh. “But at least I can say I’ve done it. I didn’t want to be the last one on my deck to venture out of space.”
“So now it’s home to the Arxon?”
“Certainly not. We’ll be hiring a transport on to the Selig as soon as possible.”
I nodded knowingly. This woman and her party had currency to waste. I wondered vaguely what their occupations were. She didn’t strike me as a dignitary.
“What were you doing down there?” she asked.
The other eyes in the room found me, and I hesitated. “Pharmaceutical research.” Wasn’t that close enough?
“How fascinating,” she replied without interest. “If you’ll excuse me, I simply must rest now.” She closed her eyes, and the others followed suit the instant I glanced their way.
Silly spaceys. Afraid to talk to a… What did they think I was, anyway? I wasn’t in gypsy garb, at least not entirely. An Ikekane floral tunic in blues and pinks fell to my knees over the leggings and boots I’d worn when I first arrived. The spaceys, on the other hand, already wore the tedious coversuits of ICS dwellers, monochrome and uncomfortable. How the technologically advanced city-stations couldn’t find a way to upgrade their attire baffled me.
I settled back in my seat, clasping my hands over the patchwork satchel in my lap. Its contents were now worth easily eight times what they’d been when I arrived, and I wasn’t going to let it out of my sight.
When we docked at last on the Arxon, the pilot’s voice came through the speakers. “Passenger Brita Glenn, please exit the ferry first. An attendant will escort you to Dr. Artemus’ office. All others, please wait until instructed to transfer to transit craft 253.”
My heart skipped with unexpected joy, and I realized how much I’d feared Dag and I wouldn’t see each other this time.
The woman with whom I’d spoken eyed me with a measure of respect before turning to a man and whispering, “She’s in pharmaceutical research. Poor girl was probably forced to stay on Tye far too long. Look at what it’s done to her skin.”
I left the ferry with my cheeks flushed, a mixture of excitement and frustration coloring them. My appearance might be abhorrent to these spaceys, but what would Dag think?
The attendant escorting me proved to be a petite blonde woman with feet so small she tripped on the extra cloth at the toes of her coversuit.
Once again, I felt myself bounding too easily beside her in my boots, their heels pinging with each step. “Sorry. I didn’t have time to change before boarding the ferry,” I lied.
“I understand,” she said, her eyes darting to my feet. “You need those on the Surface. Dr. Artemus may ask you to remove them before entering his office so as not to contaminate the floor.”
“You don’t think all the germs and dirt will have been knocked or vacuumed off by the time I get there?”
We halted outside of an unmarked door, and she swiped an ID badge on her wrist over a scanner. “Please wait here.” She entered, and I found myself staring at all the beige I could ever stomach. After the vibrant greens, blues, and sunset colors I’d enjoyed for the last eight months, it felt claustrophobic and dehumanizing. Something in me sank, as if the suction pumps below my feet were draining my soul.
“Dr. Artemus will see you now.” The petite woman exited, leaving the door slightly ajar, and padded off down the corridor.
Leading with my luggage, I stepped inside.
“Brita!” Dag stood behind the door, and the moment I cleared the threshold, he pressed it shut.
Feeling breathless and giddy, I grinned at him. Why did it feel so right to be with him again?
His fingertip brushed my shoulder. “Hello, my gypsy comet.”
I dropped my backpack and stared up into his shining blue eyes. He looked older, more tightly groomed, but the smile on his face lit a fire within me. “Hello, Doctor,” I said with a coy grin. “Aren’t you all professional now?”
His eyes flickered to my lips. Cupping my cheeks, he whispered, “And you’re an island flower.”
Before I could fully capture what was happening, his mouth slanted across mine in a tender kiss, and a rush of joy knocked me off balance. “Well that’s a different greeting than the last time!” I laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want to check my hair for stowaways?”
His hands, still on my cheeks, slipped to the back of my head. “May I?”
I bowed my forehead to rest on his chest, feeling his fingers stroll down my back to the base of my braid. Unhurried and gentle, he loosened each twist and combed through my hair, massaging my scalp.
I leaned into him a little closer. “Doctor—”
“Yes?”
“Is this correct protocol?” I teased, shocked with myself for reacting with such comfort to his kiss. My hands ventured upward from my sides, but I hesitated, not sure where to rest them.
“Did you want to be my patient?” He sounded disappointed.
“What are my options?” I shifted my satchel out from where it hung wedged between us, allowing us to drift a few centimeters closer together.
Dag’s eyes twinkled. “Hmm. How about ‘associate’?”
“That sounds boring.”
He chuckled, then his face grew more serious. “Brita, you haven’t said anything about the fact that I kissed you.”
“You didn’t hear me complaining, did you?”
He breathed out a soft laugh and nuzzled his nose against mine. “No, but…”
I answered him with a kiss, lacing my fingers together behind his neck. It was both thrilling and completely natural after those hundreds of nights texting on the SWaTT. He’d never overtly declared his affection for me, but I’d felt it grow, along with our trust and understanding of each other. No friendship had ever felt so natural and…
I scolded myself for not paying more attention to what his lips were doing to mine. “There now. That’s better than a SWaTT message, isn’t it?”
Dag clasped me in a loose embrace. “Brita, I’m hoping you’ll teach me a few things.”
“Like?”
“The curative properties of the plants you work with.”
“Right. I already know that. I’ve brought you samples.” I indicated my satchel.
“Yes, and I was hoping you could teach me…” He looked worried.
“What?”
“How to get around on the Surface… of Caren.”
I inhaled so quickly, I fell into a coughing fit. “Caren? Are you serious?”
“It’s over five months away. I’m hoping you’ll help me steel up my courage to go down. Maybe help me work out so I won’t be so weak when I experience full gravity.”
I gripped his arms, squeezing tight. “Are you serious?”
“I have permission to stay a rotation on the Rik Peninsula, doing research about the natural resources there.” He hesitated. “That is the best place for—”
“Yes! Yes, absolutely!” I laughed. Dag was going to come to Caren!
He enfolded me in a tight hug. “I
know I can do it if you’re with me.” His voice held the faintest note of fear.
“I’ll be with you every minute,” I promised. My face fell and I bit my lip. “Except I can’t do that while we’re here on the Arxon. I’ll be on the guest deck, remember?”
The side of his mouth twitched. “I may have procured you a position in my lab.”
I folded my arms across my chest with a display of mock annoyance. “As a boring old associate?”
Dag wagged his eyebrows at me. “Do you really think it’ll be boring?”
I grinned. “When do I report for duty?”
13 ~ Training
After so long rising with the sun and doing hard physical labor, my routine on the Arxon felt lazy. Dag saw patients as needed, usually a handful a day, and it clarified something in my mind: Arxon residents—or indeed any ICS dwellers—dealt with almost no health concerns. The sterility of the environment meant very few viruses or infections, and the lack of any kind of uneven terrain meant very few injuries. He would treat the occasional pulled muscle or sprained wrist, and every now and then, some common ailments of the aging population or pregnancy monitoring.
“No wonder ICS dwellers are so scared of life on the Surface,” I commented as we studied drops of my Rik blends under microscopes. “Nothing ever happens here to endanger their well-being.”
His eyes remained focused on his work. “Perhaps that’s true of the well-being of their physical health. The ICS counselors probably have a much heavier workload than I do.”
“You mean spaceys go crazy?”
Dag flashed me a pout. “Crazy might be an overstatement, but relationships in a closed community can become strained. Boredom. Vitamin D deficiency can kick in if they don’t take their supplements.” He stood taller, flexing his shoulders back. “Are you going crazy?”
“Well, this arrangement is much better than being confined to the Quarantine Deck for months at a time. I get to move around more. I have a daily purpose.” I blushed. “I have wonderful company, but…”
“But?”
“But if I had to live here more than a year, I might go a little crazy, yes.” Seeing the hurt in his eyes, I hastened to add, “I miss real sunlight and the scent of the breeze.”
“Right.” He nodded, and I knew fears of the ferry still nagged him.
“You’ll understand once you’ve been there. And the Rik Peninsula will be a perfect place to go. Ocean, mountains, forest, farms, towns. It’s got everything.” I sighed at the thought. “I can’t wait for you to see a waterfall. I think it’ll appeal to you because it’s both predictable and unexpected at the same time. Powerful and serene.”
“My comet has turned into a poet.” Dag gestured at some test tubes. “Come on. Back to work. I need to figure out why these things react the way they do with each other and with the human body.”
Both his diligence and intelligence impressed me. The more we dissected each element of my blends, the more he learned. Soon, he could explain to me why they worked, something I’d never asked. I’d always just accepted that they did. How I wished he and Ninetta could have met. Between the two of them, they could probably cure every known disease in the System.
After several days of kisses and coy glances interspersed with breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner, and some lovely conversation, I tugged at the lapel of Dag’s lab coat. “You know, if you’re not going to be flat on your back dealing with gravity, we really do need to hit the rec hall.”
Dag rested his forehead on mine. “Yes, I’ve fallen out of the exercise habit with more pleasant recreation available.”
He leaned in for a kiss, but I pushed him away playfully. “I’m serious. I can feel my muscles atrophying already. I’ve been swimming almost daily for a rotation. All this standing around makes me hurt.”
“All right,” he agreed. “We’ll hit the rec hall after dinner—”
“Before dinner. I don’t want you complaining you’re too bloated to work.”
“Fair enough. You can make me earn my meal.”
Training sessions became creative experiments. I needed to come up with ways to make him feel heavier, so we found a way to bind weight plates to his back, chest, quads, and feet. We started small because they were cumbersome and awkward, but eventually, he could walk for an hour at a time with an additional 50 kilos strapped to his body. As he trudged along the track encircling the room, I would walk backwards and wave a towel to fan him.
“I’m trying to get you used to breezes.” I winked.
He laughed, and we glanced around the rec room. Very few people ever came close to us. I think it alarmed them to see such a high-ranking Arxon resident behaving in such an odd way.
Trotting forward to catch up with me, he caught my hands and pulled me to a stop. “Brita, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I think it’s time we took things to the next level.”
My stomach lurched with a mixture of fear and delight. With a light snicker, I steered the subject to safer ground. “I was thinking the same thing. Levels. Have you ever seen stairs?”
“Stairs?” He looked both bewildered and disappointed.
“Most places on the Surface don’t have lifts. People move from one level to the next using stairs.”
Dag squinted at me. “Like the ladders in the service tubes?”
“Uh.” I shrugged. “I’ve never been in a city-station service tube, but I know what ladders are. Stairs are easier.”
“Oh, good!”
I laughed at his relieved expression. “Come on. I’ll need to build you some.” With my hands on my hips, I examined our options. “Okay, let’s get those weights off of you. We’ll need the big ones for the first step.” Stacking the largest weights, I created a first level. An upturned metal storage crate, and a bench completed the staircase. “Three steps isn’t much, but it’s a start.”
I demonstrated by marching up to stand on the bench.
Dag gaped at me, and a quick survey of the room let me know I’d broken a cardinal rule. I jumped down. “What?”
“That’s not very sanitary,” he whispered.
“Putting my feet where butts go?”
I guess the absurdity of my observation loosened him up, because he snorted and climbed my fabricated stairs without further fuss. Onlookers registered their shock, but I called out, “We’ll be sure to sanitize the bench before we leave. Don’t worry!”
Dag chuckled and jumped down from the bench with a thud. “Wow. I’ve never done that before. It’s surprisingly gratifying.”
I shook my head. “Oh Dag, you were never young. On the Surface, children do this kind of thing for fun all the time.”
“I see now what I was missing.” He ascended again. “The door over there leads to a supply closet. You’ll find a disinfectant, so we can clean up after I’m done. How many times should I go up and down?”
I challenged him with a smile. “Why don’t we take turns? You go, then I’ll go, in rapid succession. Whoever gets tired and has to quit first has to clean up our mess.”
To my delight, Dag gave me a confident grin. “Get ready to climb stairs until midnight!”
OOO
The next morning, I watched Dag approach my table with his breakfast tray. “You’re moving a little slowly today, Dr. Artemus,” I teased.
He let the tray drop with a clatter and gave me a heavy-lidded look. “You could have warned me, you know.”
A giggle escaped, and I quickly hid it behind my hand. “A little sore, are we?”
“I don’t know. Are we?” He slid into the chair opposite me. “Or is it just me?”
I let my toe caress his calf for a moment before returning to a more professional posture. We were, after all, in public. “It’ll get better, Dag. Rest up today, and we’ll set a more reasonable regimen for next time.”
He groaned and took a sip of juice. “I’ll never walk upright again.”
I patted his free hand. “Actually, you’ll be one of the rare spaceys who can walk w
hen you get there. Can’t you see how strong you are?” My eyes grazed over him, drinking in the changes.
“Yes,” he muttered. “About that…”
My throat constricted. “What about that?”
“I don’t suppose you watched any of the newscasts last night?”
“No.” I’d been soaking my own muscles in a hot shower and stretching down to make sure I wouldn’t hobble. “Bad news?”
Dag sighed and ran a finger across his brow. “I’ve been trying to get caught up on current events on the Rik Peninsula, so I could talk with the natives with some degree of awareness.”
“Good plan.”
He cracked his knuckles and studied me over clasped hands. “There have been some… skirmishes.”
“Colony factions?” I knew the various governors constantly disputed borders after the Carenian Empire dissolved.
“Not exactly.” He hesitated. “Gypsies.”
I stiffened. “What about them?”
“There have been several incidents.”
I set my fork down. “Define incidents.”
“There’s a group of gypsies banding together. A strength-in-numbers sort of thing. They’ve been… harassing the colonists there.”
“Are you sure the reports weren’t biased?” I asked. “Any time I’ve seen conflict, it’s colonists kicking gypsies out of unincorporated areas where they’re camping.”
Dag’s jaw tightened, and he dropped his gaze. “No. Large groups of gypsies targeted key colony locations.”
“Targeted?” My voice pitched high enough that others in the cafeteria turned briefly. I hunched closer and whispered, “What do you mean?”
“They’ve vandalized the Governor’s residence and several colonist community centers, including a school and a hospital.”
Massaging my temples, I tried to make room in my head for this whole idea. Gypsies weren’t violent. They were wanderers, sure, but not aggressive. They traded, dove for pearls, worked at odd jobs until they moved on. “What did they do?”
“Broke windows and doors and burned things on the sides of the buildings.”
“What things?”