by Ginger Booth
Remi had never been to Mahina. The place looked dusty. The thought of walking around outside without a pressure suit inspired him to agoraphobia. The freed Sagamore paddy slaves walking around Schuyler were a real eye-opener, though.
Abel ruefully detailed the political growing pains Mahina was currently undergoing. How the Sanks would find training and careers was anyone’s guess. Unemployment was sky-high, and the government unstable at best this year.
“To be clear,” Tharsis summed up. “Mahina offers us immigrant status. They’ve accepted immigrants recently, from the nearby world of Sagamore. So they understand the challenge of absorbing newcomers. No other world has that experience. Bringing valuable assets from here, we could start everyone with a nest egg. No roughing it, no breaking in a new planet. We can move into exiting towns, or build our own. We could afford the forever-healthy nanites they use. This is a lively, complex society, with education and plenty of niches to fill.”
Abel nodded. “Our sister moon, Sagamore, is currently in armed revolt. That’s why we accept refugees. Sagamore does not offer asylum. But Aloha’s third world, the planet Denali, is also willing to grant immigrant status.”
The Denalis joined him on the stage, though the polished businessman Abel continued to present. Remi’s eyes narrowed in disbelief at the photos of Denali jungles, bizarre ocean, and murderous wildlife. Zan explained the four genetically crafted guilds, including the nearly extinct academics like Teke. No one sugarcoated the practical challenge of living on the hostile hothouse planet.
Tharsis noted that Denali was willing to accept their entire colony. But all would go to the single city of Waterfalls, and pretty much submit themselves for retraining. They had no valuable skills to offer there, nor the right genetics.
“You’d be miserable there,” Zan assured them. “Don’t choose Denali.” Teke nodded emphatically.
Quire looked faintly homesick. But even Quire mentioned to Remi privately that he’d never return to live on Denali. His home on Prosper was far more comfortable, and safer.
Tharsis invited Hugo to the stage to help discuss the next proposal, the European-settled world of Cantons. This was a more speculative option. They had no means to ask Cantons for permission to come. Hugo’s team had surveyed the planet from orbit in detail. They landed in a remote location. He shared pictures, which looked plenty alien. At the time, the Sanks needed pressure suits, though terraforming was progressing. They hadn’t learned much about the societies. But Cantons had a number of settlements of varying sizes, with rail transport linking them.
Step one for Cantons would be to send a delegation to ask for terms. Tharsis suggested this might not delay them leaving Sanctuary, since logistics would take a while.
In Tharsis’ mind, this completed the menu of viable options.
But Ben Acosta and Elise Pointreau requested a turn. “We represent the space-based society of the Pono rings,” Ben explained. “The moons of Mahina and Sagamore feature major orbital platforms, Mahina Orbital and Sagamore Orbital.”
“And where I live, and my new friend Remi Roy,” Elise joined in, pointing him out in the crowd.
Remi stepped up to the stage to wave at the audience, then rejoined Darren. Though Rings-dweller himself, his perspective was outdated.
Elise continued, “Remi and I are from Hell’s Bells. Sagamore rebels mining in the rings, yes? And manufacturing facilities.”
Remi’s jaw dropped at the images Elise shared. In a decade, Hell’s Bells had come light years. A quarter of the residents were women now. Elise’s pictures – and Elise herself – spoke of a vibrant frontier community, with leafy corridors and a rich variety of living habitats.
Ben presented Mahina Orbital, replaced since Remi passed through the stinking death-trap of its flying pizza box days. In its wake flew a booming mining hub, a rough-and-ready hollow asteroid community like SO. Its industries now rivaled Hell’s Bells in sophistication, and surpassed it in medical nanites. Everyone on MO now enjoyed Yang-Yang nanites!
“This is a major draw on MO,” Ben explained. “Top-of-the-line nanites are expensive. A working-class settler on Mahina simply can’t afford them. But if they have skills, they can sign up for a five-year stint on MO and be 25 again and self-healing for life. Children, including mine, stay down on the moon in creche care. Parents work in space and earn the money to support them.”
Elise nodded. “Mahina is not such a backwater. With children, Mahina is a good option. But you are Colony Corps.” She flourished a hand at their ending image of the MO docks from outside, with two PO-3’s moored and a shoal of mining skiffs heading out for their shift. “You belong in space.”
Tharsis clarified, “Are you saying these space platforms are offering us a place?”
Ben shook his head. “No, they won’t accept children. The route to the platforms is citizenship on Mahina, then apply for a job in space. Though private carriers like myself can bring our kids into space, if we want.”
Remi smirked. Captain Ben hadn’t wanted his kids here. But Nico was thriving, and Sock was fun to have around, if too shy to enjoy his Sank peers. The older boy was inseparable from Bron Silva. Voting age here was 20, so they weren’t on the soccer field. The subversive teens echoed today’s presentation for kids in the large Mars gym below. Whether they qualified to vote was moot. A vote would be taken, and delivered. Their future was on the line. Bron insisted they would be heard.
Remi quite liked the young firebrand. Nico agitated to bring Bron and Hugo to Mahina, no matter what the Sanks chose.
As the first round voting began, Remi’s thoughts kept returning to the image of the new and healthier Hell’s Bells, and the burgeoning Mahina Orbital. With a good woman beside him, and a chance to have kids. Husna was not the woman for that, grateful as he was for the good times.
Remi began to look forward to going home.
“Maybe you and Dot reconcile, back home, no?” he suggested to Darren. Their nanite testing successful, the older engineer now returned to his cheerful self, though he needed to be careful medically until his Yang-Yangs could be restored.
“No,” Darren agreed. “And you know, I’m looking forward to it! Experiencing Mahina without my wife for the first time.” He grinned. “A fresh new start. Maybe I’ll live in Schuyler. Or MO. Date, carouse at the bars. I never dated anyone but her.”
“We need a crowbar to make Teke leave,” Remi noted. With help from Nico and Sock, the physicist found the lair of his long-dead counterpart, the physicist who created the ansibles. Apparently the theoretical underpinnings of the ansible and the micro-warp gate didn’t quite align, despite the fact both clearly worked. The Denali scientist walked around mumbling to himself, distracted for days on end attempting to reconcile the theories – pig heaven.
Darren dismissed Teke with a shake of his head. “He’ll bring the databases and experimental rigs with him. He’ll take up a third of the hold. Prosper’s hold, not ours.”
The men continued chatting as the first round vote completed around them. Bron got on stage on behalf of the kids to emphatically endorse Mahina. They should leave ASAP!
Remi’s read was that the adults just weren’t ready to decide. They ruled out Sylvan and Denali easily enough. Those challenges were beyond their rusty abilities. Even running their own colony without Shiva’s control was a stretch. But they voted to send a fact-finding mission to Cantons before making a final determination. Mahina or Cantons, much preparation awaited before they could abandon Sanctuary. Mahina was simpler, but could take a year to ready the spaceships and pack. The Cantons expedition, with hired warp gate assistance from Thrive Spaceways, could add months or years.
They needed time to accept the change.
And there remained a small contingent who chose to stay here and enjoy the material advantages of their brilliant system AI. If they could buy Yang-Yang nanites, and persuade Thrive Spaceways to visit for trade every few years, they argued that even a very small colony was perfectly viabl
e. They still had a wide genetic sample supply to draw on.
“For Loki’s sake, I hope they do stay here,” Darren murmured. “Because that damned AI isn’t going anywhere. Not if I have any say.”
“Amen,” Remi concurred. “Sass and Clay would be happy today.”
56
Sass had been aware for quite some time. She didn’t like to dwell on quite how much time. She shivered in pitch darkness, far too cold. The subliminal vibration of Thrive at rest carried through the walls of her coffin, which reeked of dried blood and urine.
No one catheterized a corpse. She knew where she was. My cryo bays.
Back at turnover, after they warped in, a healthy Clay waking in cryo was funny. Waking here from death clearly required new protocols. Including someone to check up on her.
She ached from every pore. But the worst pain was the screaming urgency from her belly. Her IV was fine for water, but her healing body demanded more fuel than a cryogenic sleeper. She desperately needed to get out of here. She felt weak as a kitten, and completely unequal to the task.
Someone clearly thought she had a chance when she inserted that IV. They must have given up.
Yes, she’d waited long enough. How did Clay get out of this thing?
Whimpering from the effort, she raised her arms over her head and felt around the cabinet opening. She had to stop repeatedly and breathe to gather her strength. Finally she found a release mechanism. Remi Roy, bless him, added a little spring assist. The shelf she lay on pushed out an inch.
She breathed deep of fresher air and rested a moment. Then she brought her arms back to her sides and pushed against the walls to slowly trundle her shelf outward.
A scent of fresh-baked bread wafted from the galley. Maddening! Except it inspired her to make that last Herculean heave to push herself free of the wall and sit up. She brought her legs around and yanked out the IV tubes. Next protocol item. Dead Sass gets a bottom shelf. Corky could fashion little plaques for them, his and hers. Sighing, she scooted off the thin mattress pad, trying to lever herself gently over the side.
Her knees and then arms both buckled, spilling her to the floor on her butt. Dammit. But after yet another breather, she pulled herself back to standing. Her pressure suit was heavy and cut to ribbons. She picked off the remains and toed them away.
“Help!” a muffled voice came from the cabinet beside her. It bore a throbbing red light – occupied and in trouble, as opposed to the serene blue of the available empties around them. “Let me out!”
Clay. Steeling herself, she managed to open his shelf too, and pull it from the wall. He looked like hell, starved as she was. Her legs worked a little better now. She spared him the fall to the deck.
“I put towels up here,” Clay shared, once standing.
“But not grav generators,” Sass surmised. “Or a comm tablet?”
“That would have been smart,” her first mate conceded.
“HELP! Anybody!” Sass yelled. Clay tried too. Their voices were feeble and creaky.
“Who’s up here?” A child’s voice, followed by a child. A boy, no older than ten, scampered up the wall from the catwalk and flipped into the bay. There he stopped, aghast. “You’re naked!” he objected. “And you smell.”
“I’m the captain,” Sass attempted. “He’s the first mate. Sass Collier and Clay Rocha. Who are you?” He looked familiar.
The boy frowned. “Socrates Acosta-Copeland.” He turned and hopped down from the bay. “Corky? Corky! There’s creepy naked people in the cryo bay!”
Sass and Clay gazed at each other. “How long have we been out?”
Clay suggested, “Bad conditions for us to recover. Cold, starving. Hacked to little bits time after time.”
Sass nodded slowly. “Must have lost a lot of nanites. And blood. So much blood.” Speaking of which, she shut her cabinet to hide the stench. But she hung onto its pull-bar for support.
Corky soon came at a run. Then she ran off again to find grav generators and blankets for them. As she explained along the way, no one else was home on Thrive at the moment. She stayed behind to mind the fort, and watch Socrates during the big vote. Today the Sanks decided whether to return to Mahina with them.
“How long have we been out?” Sass demanded. Corky assisted her first, down to the catwalk and on to her bedroom. “When did Prosper get here? And why did they bring Sock along?”
Corky clucked at her. “I’ll explain everything once you’re safe and warm! First things first!” She helped Sass to a seat on her bed, then scurried off to retrieve Clay.
Sock peered in the door at her. “You’re really Sass?”
“I really am. You look so much like Teke!” She didn’t see as much of Cope in him, not on the outside.
He nodded unhappily. “We’ve been here a month. My dads came to save you. Nico and I stowed away. Do you remember living in the AI?”
“Living in the…” Sass blinked a few times. There was a glimmer, like the ghost of a memory. It flitted away before she could catch it. “I was inside the AI?”
“I don’t know,” Sock admitted. “If it was you. You said you were a copy. But you talked to us through a robot. We helped you conquer Shiva. But then you deleted yourself.”
“Shiva is gone? Is the colony safe?”
Sock nodded. “Loki is the AI now. Your friend.”
The boy shifted out of the way as Corky half-carried Clay in to settle beside Sass. “Now you just rest while I get you some food! Chicken soup? Gelatin?”
“Ice cream!” Clay demanded. “Then steaks and bread and vegetables, plus a gallon of water apiece!”
“Sock!” Corky barked on the way out. “Aren’t you coming to help?”
“I am helping. I’m telling them what happened.”
“Please, Corky, leave him with us.” Sass brought Clay up to date, then turned back to the boy to grill him for more details. Which left them with a peculiar view of the happenings of the month they were dead. Sass was happy to hear that the local adults finally made an effort to raise their own children, however little the kids appreciated it.
Clay was right. The first serving of ice cream worked wonders. Sock enjoyed a bowl, too.
Corky shooed the boy out when she returned with a vast tray of food for their main course. “I spoke to the captains. Ben and Abel need to stay where they are to cement our deal –”
“Abel?” Sass interrupted in surprise.
“Abel Greer, he’s our captain now,” Corky supplied. “Poor Remi was a little overwhelmed when you died all grisly like that. Anyway, Abel said he’ll send Remi and Dot to look after you. Just so you know, we plan to leave within the week –”
“Leave!” Sass cried.
“– With a new PO-3 like Thrive as payment. Maybe it’s an SO-3, since they built it here. That’ll serve as Cope’s new warp gate in the home system. For Denali service and such.”
“Home system,” Clay echoed numbly.
Sass frowned. “Payment?” Denali service?
Corky threw her hands up in frustration. “You missed so much, I don’t know where to start! Oh, yes I do. Once you eat, you sure could use a bath.” She held her nose in illustration. “Do you need my help to wash?” She clearly wasn’t eager.
Sass let her off the hook. “We can wait for the nurse.”
“And the shower,” Clay muttered.
“Good! I’ll let you eat in peace. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything!”
Corky hustled out. Their appetites barely whetted by the ice cream, the couple fell on their suppers with gusto.
Once she’d cleared half her plate, Sass took a break from chewing. “Our big mission. To save Sanctuary. We missed it.”
Clay nodded thoughtfully. “Though apparently we did something heroic while we were dead.” Sock’s explanation on that point didn’t make much sense.
“Good thing we trained the kids well,” Sass agreed. “To carry on.”
They fell asleep before they finished their
plates. Now with warmth and fuel, their newly minted nanites could work in earnest to restore them to perfect health. They slept for days.
57
Four days later, Clay ventured out of their cabin with Sass at breakfast to declare themselves fit for duty. Morning workout quickly disabused them of that notion. They spent half the day back in bed napping. But Captain Abel set up a bonus Mahina sunset drinks party in the evening nonetheless.
Ship’s time deemed it Wednesday. And Sanctuary’s sun blazed late morning outside. But no matter. Jules played a Mahina sunset video on the galley display, a cocktail party recorded at the ‘Thrive mansion’ backyard her family shared with the Acosta-Copelands in Schuyler. She turned the sound on low for extra party noises and a thread of music.
At Sass’s elbow, Clay worked the room trading hugs with friends eleven years parted, and with their newer crew as well. Then Sass, Jules, and Wilder fell to dissecting the elapsed love lives of their old friends Kassidy Yang and Aurora, the Denali envoy.
Clay escaped to get to know young Nico and Socrates by asking them how they helped overthrow Shiva. Both diffident kids, he was amused by the way Sock hid behind his big brother. Until Nico, who actually understood this stuff, got flustered and his baby brother proudly stepped forward as translator.
“Sass did the talking,” Nico explained. “Through a polebot. But I think you did most of the analysis on your side. You and Loki. And isolated a subsystem of –”
This droned on a while before Sock cut through. “I simplify the graph. The rules get all tangled.”
“Yeah,” Nico agreed gratefully. “It’s like spaghetti, makes no sense at all, until Sock cleans it up for me.” He hesitated, having lost the thread of how he reached this point.
Cope took the opportunity to step in. He and Ben had naturally drifted over to listen. “What do you remember, Clay? Between,” he spared a cautious glance at his sons, “uh, Beagle’s med-bay, and coming to in cryo. Hey, boys? Give me a turn with Clay.”