by J. D. Moyer
In the morning, bleary-eyed, Maggie expressed her regret for leaving her toothbrush in the hovershuttle.
“Want to borrow mine? There’s a bucket of well water just outside.”
Maggie grimaced. “That’s okay. How do Happdal people keep their teeth clean? Chew bark or something?”
“Toothpicks, mostly, and rotten teeth get pulled. They’d be better off with dental floss and a real dentist.”
“Maybe we can help them with that. We’re helping sick people in Bosa, aren’t we? And didn’t your mother fix a radiation leak near Happdal a long time ago? There’s a precedent of sorts.”
“She did. You’re right – I’ll bring it up at the next Repop meeting. I think they’re comfortable enough with ringstation folk to trust us. Maybe they’d accept some dentistry services.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, but we need to say our goodbyes.”
Tem kept it as brief as possible, but there were many who wanted to see him off. And even more who wanted to get another glimpse of Maggie.
“You know I am by your side if you need me,” Trond said, pulling Tem’s forehead against his own. “I will even come to the sky ship if necessary.”
“That’s a kind offer, Trond, especially since I know you like to keep your feet on the ground. But your place is here in Happdal. I’ll come back to visit.”
Elke embraced him for a long time. “I thought Sigurd would be the first to make me a great-grandmother. But maybe it will be you. Good luck with Maggie.”
“Thank you, Farmor.”
They walked to the hovershuttle laden with gifts from his family: heavy loaves of brown bread, a jar of honey, a cask of cider, slabs of smoked trout wrapped and tied in a rabbit pelt, a few small wheels of cheese.
“Your family is very generous,” Maggie said.
“They like you. A lot. I think that’s the warmest welcome I’ve ever seen for a sky person.”
Maggie brushed her teeth while Tem packed the hovershuttle. Within ten minutes of being airborne, she was asleep again, snoring lightly as he wove the craft through the peaks of the Harz mountains. Tem raised the protective dome and increased their speed, eager to return to Bosa.
When Maggie woke, Tem asked her what exactly had happened in Bosa. She told him about the visitors from the Michelangelo, how Felix and Sperancia had both died in an altercation.
“That’s terrible, and a huge setback for Bosa. Sperancia was intelligent and knowledgable.”
“Jana claims she’s still alive, living inside of her.”
That gave Tem pause. “So maybe I was right. Sperancia might have been a Crucible host.”
Maggie nodded. He’d explained the nature of the Crucible technology to Maggie. “I think you’re right. Though by all accounts the transition was entirely voluntary. Nothing like what your aunt went through. Lydia says that Jana is acting normally, as far as she can tell.”
Maggie brought him up to date regarding Maro and Livia’s imprisonment and subsequent escape, aided by two young people.
“And those two are on the Michelangelo now? Is there any way to communicate with them?”
“Not unless the Michelangelo starts answering hails, which seems unlikely. They’re as silent as ever.”
“I wonder if Cristo and Filumena are being held as hostages.”
They lapsed into silence. Nearing the Alps, Tem gathered the gumption to confess his dalliance with Saga. Maggie listened without interrupting, eyes locked ahead, jaw tense.
“Anything else you need to tell me? Is that everything?”
He’d left one thing out – the fact that there was a possibility that he’d gotten Saga pregnant. It was a particularly damning detail.
“I don’t suppose you used any protection?” Maggie asked. “Some kind of lamb gut condom or something like that?”
“No,” he said, feeling awful.
“Did you at least pull out?”
“I know I’m going to sound stupid again, but I didn’t think about it.”
“So Saga might be pregnant with your child.”
“I don’t think it’s very likely, but yes.”
“And she’s your ex, isn’t she?”
“Well, she’s the first woman I ever had sex with. I wouldn’t say we were ever in a relationship.”
“Is that why you didn’t want me to come to Happdal? Because you were planning an affair with Saga?”
Tem briefly considered opening the hovershuttle dome and jumping out. The landing would be surely be painful, injurious, and perhaps fatal. And yet an improvement over his current situation.
“I swear I had no idea she’d be in Happdal.”
Maggie sighed. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know.”
“Not because you wanted to have sex with her, but because you didn’t use any protection. But I guess I can understand where you’re coming from, not inviting me.”
“You can?”
“I feel a little awkward when you visit Ilium. It’s a collision of worlds.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s someone in Ilium – a friend of mine. It’s nothing serious, but…I guess you could say we’re sex buddies. Just once in a while, when we’re both feeling lonely.”
“Wait—what? Who?”
“Roland.”
“Roland? You had sex with Roland?” Roland was a handsome, curly-haired botanist, a friend of Maggie who Tem had never felt threatened by, until now. His gut clenched as he thought about Maggie and Roland having sex. What had it been like? Romantic? Playful? Rough and carnal?
“I’m not in love with him.”
What position had they done it in? No, multiple times…what positions?
“And I’m definitely not pregnant.”
It was Tem’s turn to be silent and look straight ahead. He tried not to sulk – what right did he have? But he knew that’s what he was doing.
“We never said we were exclusive. We never talked about it,” Maggie said.
“We’ve been together for over a year.”
“Yes, but living in two different places for most of that time.”
They’d met in Ilium. Tem had accompanied his mother there on a visit to see Lydia. He’d wanted to see the first Earth resettlement with his own eyes, not only as a Repop Council member but out of sheer curiosity. With the exception of the Shell, a meeting hall constructed of iridescent matrix-grown mollusk nacre, he’d found the place unimpressive. Ilium was a sprawling town of mostly single-story habitat domes and geodesic greenhouses, with the vast majority of space dedicated to gardens and solar panels. There were few permanent buildings and little attention to aesthetics.
But Tem had been impressed by the people and the way they lived. Ilium blended the best of ringstation life (education and access to information, modern medicine, cultural pluralism) with village life (living in proximity to nature, a smaller and more intimate community, exceptionally good food). Maggie was a medical intern working under Lydia’s tutelage at the health clinic. Tem had been curious about her work, and once Maggie had gotten over the chip on her shoulder about not having an Academy education (Tem hadn’t cared), they’d fallen into deep conversations about Earth vs. ringship life. They’d made love the last night of that first visit, and from that point on Tem had found excuses to return to Ilium. Organizing the delegation to Bosa, though it dovetailed with his Repop Council obligations, had been one of those excuses.
With each visit their feelings for each other had deepened. They’d discussed a future together. Tem had imagined moving to Ilium, having children with Maggie. Now those dreams, which had seemed as solid as steel, were dissolving into mist.
“When were you going to tell me?” he asked.
“I would have told you if you’d asked.”
“I feel as
if you lied by omission.”
“Tem – you’re taking this way too seriously. It was just sex. Roland and I know we’re not compatible with each other. And since you and I have been together, Roland and I have only…twice? Maybe three times?”
“Wait, so you and Roland were sleeping together before you and I met?” He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse, but every new piece of information was a knife to his gut. He needed to stop asking questions. Or maybe he should ask all the questions in his head, however painful the answers. Wouldn’t that be better than endlessly wondering?
“What about you and Saga?” Maggie asked. “Do you love her?”
“No. I’m impressed by her, and I admire her. But I’ve only fallen in love once. With you.”
They were silent as the hovershuttle veered south toward the Mediterranean. Maggie took his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back and held her hand, but after a while it felt awkward and he pulled away.
He needed time to process everything. All his organs felt cinched together, caught in a viselike grip of anger, guilt, and resentment.
But Maggie hadn’t broken any promises or betrayed his trust, not really. And maybe his own actions, while foolish, might also be forgivable.
Chapter Eighteen
Tem and Maggie arrived at dusk, meeting Lydia on a cliff-sheltered beach.
“Jana told me about this place,” Lydia said. “The hovershuttle should be safe here.”
“I’ll activate security measures just in case,” Tem said before anyone could make a hovershuttle heist joke. He’d have some words for his aunt. “Is Katja okay?” he asked Lydia. “She didn’t try anything stupid, did she?”
“No. She’s been by Jana’s side during her recovery.”
“And how is Jana? Is there any sign of…Sperancia?”
“You’ll have to determine that for yourself when you see her. Which will be soon – Jana has requested a meeting in the town hall. Just her, Katja, Ingrid, and the three of us.”
“Any other news?”
Lydia met Tem’s eyes with a look he could not quite interpret, some mixture of longing and fear. “Yes, but I’ll tell everyone at once.”
The hike back to Bosa took twenty minutes, during which the sun dipped below the horizon. Tem had to focus on the rocky trail to keep his balance, but was glad of the distraction from his own thoughts. Lydia, if she noticed the silence between him and Maggie, said nothing of it.
Bosa was quiet when they arrived, so much so that the town felt deserted. Approaching the town hall, they saw lantern light flickering through the windows. Inside they found Jana, Katja, and Ingrid seated at a long table. Katja rose immediately and embraced Tem.
“I’m sorry for stealing your flying boat, nephew,” she said in Norse. “I know it must have caused you some trouble. But I needed to see for myself if there was another gast.”
All Tem’s plans for scolding his aunt evaporated as he hugged her back. “I was worried about you.”
“All I have done is make new friends.”
“Here, you must be hungry and thirsty from your journey,” Jana said in English, offering them a platter of figs and cheese along with a pitcher of water.
“Thank you,” Tem said, taking a seat. He filled a mug with water and popped a whole fig into his mouth.
“You can speak English now?” Maggie asked Jana.
“English, and all the languages of my previous hosts,” Jana explained, glancing at Katja. “You all know about the Crucible?”
“More or less,” said Maggie.
“I’ll answer your questions later, if you want. But for now, know that you’re speaking to me, Jana. Sperancia is here with me, as are some of the others. But I’m not giving any of them direct control, for now. Sperancia’s advice.”
“And I agree,” Katja added.
Jana was different, Tem realized. The Crucible hadn’t yet affected her appearance, but she seemed more solid, heavier. Maybe it was simply confidence.
“Thank you for joining me,” Jana continued. “I know it’s late. But we have some decisions to make. Decisions that can’t wait. Two of our young townsfolk, Filumena and Cristo, left Bosa several days ago with Maro and Livia from the Michelangelo. We believe they’ve returned to the worldship, and that they are in danger.”
“Did they go voluntarily?” Tem asked.
“Yes. But we think that Maro lied about what was in store for them.”
“What can we do to help?” Maggie asked.
Lydia raised her hand. “Yes – we’re here to help. But before we have that discussion, I have some information from the Stanford to share.”
Tem’s mind immediately leapt to worst-case scenarios. Had there been some sort of accident, a major breach or collision? A widespread systems failure? Were his parents all right? What about Shol? His grandfather had been hearty and hale the last time he’d seen him, but Shol was getting old.
“Don’t worry, Tem,” Lydia said, noting his distress. “Everything’s fine at home. One of the Stanford’s observational arrays picked up a gamma-ray burst in the outer solar system. We think it might be the Iarudi.”
It took Tem a moment to process the name. “Umana’s ship?” Umana, the rogue military commander from the Liu Hui, had kidnapped Tem in an attempt to draw out his mother, who had interfered in Umana’s plans to obliterate Happdal, Kaldbrek, and all villages and towns on Earth, murdering their inhabitants in cold blood. Umana, also a Crucible host, had harbored an insane vision of Earth as an ecological reserve free of all permanent human settlements. “Is she still alive?”
“We have no idea. We’ve hailed them.”
“But no answer yet?”
“No, but the gamma-ray burst occurred just a few hours ago. It takes about two hours for a message to reach the burst location, and another two to hear back, assuming an immediate response.”
“Shane was on that ship.” Ilium’s former security director, back when the settlement had simply been known as AFS-1, had befriended Tem, reassuring him when they were both captives of Umana. The Squid Woman’s goons had beaten and tortured Shane. Before his own escape, Tem had promised his friend that he would kill Umana and return to rescue Shane. He’d made good on neither promise.
Lydia nodded. “I know. But he wasn’t in great shape when you saw him last, was he?”
“He’s as tough as anyone I know,” Tem said. That wasn’t quite true – the strongest and most resilient people he knew were from Happdal – but Shane wouldn’t give up easily. And from the tremor in Lydia’s voice, she needed some comfort. Lydia and Shane had been close.
“The Iarudi is a starship?” Jana asked.
“In some senses it is the only starship,” Ingrid said. “The Iarudi can travel great distances, literally between stars, with its Natario-White drive.”
“What’s that?”
“An engine that can warp spacetime, allowing for faster-than-light travel without time dilation.”
“And whoever controls this ship – are they willing to help us?”
“We don’t know, but we might find out soon.”
For the moment there was nothing to do but wait, at least in regards to the Iarudi. Jana asked what, if anything, the Stanford could do to help Cristo and Filumena. Would those in charge be willing to interfere with the Michelangelo, to risk retribution?
“It would be a matter of discussion for the Over Council,” said Ingrid, “but they would probably delegate the decision to one of the lesser councils, Ringstation Coalition or even Repop.”
“So it could take a long time to reach a decision,” Jana said.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Ingrid admitted. “Governance on the Stanford is thorough and thoughtful, but slow.”
“It’s not just Filumena and Cristo we’re concerned for,” said Jana, “but all of Bosa. We don’t want to be their
playthings. They’re vastly more powerful than we are. They could easily overwhelm us with force if they wanted to.”
“We won’t let that happen,” said Tem instinctively.
“Then what will you do?”
“We’ll talk to the other ringships, the Liu Hui and the Alhazen and even the Hedonark. We’ll get them to insist that your people are returned safely to Bosa, and that they stay away from your town – permanently.”
Jana glared at him. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you haven’t met these people. Sending them a strongly worded message isn’t going to help.”
“Jana is right,” Ingrid said. “And getting the Coalition to agree on something – even the contents of a single message – would take even longer.”
Tem angrily ate another fig. At least it would keep his mouth busy for a few seconds so he could stop blurting out his stupid thoughts, which kept occurring in his brain; he imagined assembling an army of Five Valleys villagers to form a garrison in Bosa. But what good would Happdal steel be against the modern weapons the Michelangelo certainly possessed?
After more discussion, Ingrid agreed to work with Jana and the Bosa town council to formally apply for membership in the Ringstation Coalition. To some extent that had been the plan all along, to include the major Earth settlements in a broader coalition, probably under a new name. Full membership would include a mutual protection clause, providing a legal basis for the Stanford and other ringstations to interfere with the Michelangelo, diplomatically and even militarily, on behalf of any Bosa citizen.
It was all theoretical. There were no diplomatic relations with the Michelangelo, not yet. And as for military capability, the Stanford had almost none.
Still, it was a first step.
“You mentioned that the Ringstation Coalition has a human rights charter,” Jana said. “Can you describe that in more detail?”
“I’ll try to explain it,” said Lydia. “The Ringstation Coalition recognizes cultural differences, but all members have agreed to certain principles and standards of behavior. The HRC isn’t a shared legal code – each ringstation has its own laws, incentives, and punishments. But the charter functions as a set of shared values. It attempts to articulate what a society should try to provide for its people, and what the people should try to provide for their society.”