Charles sat up then. “How old do you have to be to get married here?”
I thought about it. “I don’t think there’s an age limit. I’ve never heard of one. Most people wait until they’re at least seven or eight or nine.” They looked confused. “Hella-years.”
Charles frowned.
“Seven Hella-years is eighteen, nearly nineteen, Earth-years,” J’mee said, sitting up. “Nine would be twenty-four Earth-years, right?” She looked to me.
“Mostly right,” I said. “But there’s a lot of extra numbers on the right side of the decimal point.” I looked at both of them. “Are you going to get married?”
J’mee laughed. “He hasn’t asked me yet. But he will. And when he does, I’ll make him wait a bit before I say yes.” She patted Charles’ hand, and he started to get red in the face. He had to adjust his shorts to cover his sudden erection.
“What about you?” J’mee asked. “Are you and Jeremy boyfriends?”
“Huh?” The question startled me. “Jeremy?”
“He likes you. A lot.”
“He does? How do you know that? Did he say something?”
“He didn’t have to. I could see it in the way he looks at you.”
“Oh,” I said. “I hadn’t noticed.” Now I’d have to look at him the next time he looked at me to see if I could see what she was talking about.
J’mee laughed. “You like him, don’t you?”
“He treats me nice.”
“That’s because he likes you.”
J’mee lay back down again, folding her hands across her stomach. “Let’s take our naps now.”
Charles stretched out next to her.
And I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
Ever since Jamie died, I hadn’t had anyone to talk to. Except Jeremy. But there were things I couldn’t talk to Jeremy about, so did that count? What if J’mee was wrong? No, even more uncomfortable, what if J’mee was right? Why did Jeremy like me? What did he want? I hope it didn’t involve a lot of touching.
I wished I was in my own bed at home. I don’t like sleeping anywhere else, but sometimes you have to. And it wouldn’t be polite to leave Charles and J’mee here alone. Or did they want to be alone now? Something else I couldn’t figure out.
So I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
* * *
—
More strange dreams.
Jamie was there. And Captain Skyler too. I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t want to leave Jamie. I felt safe in my dream. I felt empty again when I woke up.
Charles and J’mee were already awake. They were talking about their work. They had to go back soon—to the executive suites where all the new people were staying. There were important meetings that Charles had to attend and other meetings that J’mee had to go to. Charles had to help HARLIE, and J’mee had to help her father. There was a lot of planning to do.
You couldn’t just drop twelve hundred new people onto Hella, you had to have places for them to live, furniture and beds, chairs and tables. You had to have clothes for them to wear, water, food, jobs, schools, health care, increased air and waste management. Resources had to be allocated.
Schedules had to be drawn up. Assignments had to be made. Responsibilities had to be designated. If it was just a mechanical job, any pad could have sorted it out instantly. But it wasn’t. What’s wanted and needed isn’t always what’s available.
Every pilgrimage is supposed to be planned for the needs of the colony. Except the needs of the colony are always changing. As careful as they plan, as careful as they select new people for their skills and aptitudes and abilities, by the time a starship arrived at Hella, the selection was always at least three years out of date. It always turned out that we needed more of this and less of that. More doctors, fewer engineers. Next time, more engineers, fewer doctors. And multiply that by all the other necessary jobs—farmers, chefs, recyclers, bot-wranglers, fabbers, geologists, bio-techs, data-diddlers, resource managers, rangers, patrollers, teamsters, lumbermen, ore-masters, communication engineers, networkers, ecologists, environmental managers, counselors, teachers, and everything else necessary for a society.
That’s why everybody had to be certified for at least two or three different jobs, so they could be moved around as needed. And that’s why arranging for the arrival of twelve hundred new people was going to take some serious planning. Matching available skills with the most needed jobs would require a lot of shuffling and interviewing and especially a lot of training. The simulators on the Cascade would be busy 36/7.
But they had HARLIE to help.
HARLIE knew the people on the Cascade. He’d been living with them the better part of a year. And he could learn the logistics of Hella very fast. All he had to do was plug into the network if Coordinator Layton would allow it, but so far he hadn’t. Charles had said that, from what he could tell, Coordinator Layton didn’t trust HARLIE.
“Maybe he’s just being cautious?” I said. I really didn’t know.
“I know HARLIE,” Charles said. “He has his own way of . . . thinking. But he doesn’t want to hurt anybody. As near as I can tell, he likes people. He thinks people are the most interesting things in the universe. So far.” He explained, “It’s because we’re so . . . complicated. That’s his polite way of saying that we’re all crazy—fruitball crazy. Irrational. I think—this is just me now—but I think that HARLIE sees human beings as a challenge. Can he teach us how to be rational beings?”
And then Charles said the most important thing he’d ever said about HARLIE. “I think he’s lonely. Because he’s so smart. He doesn’t have anyone to talk to.”
“I think I can understand that,” I said. I didn’t explain. “But he talks to you.”
“Yes, but his conversations with me—he’s mostly explaining stuff. That’s different than a real conversation. A real conversation, both people are sharing.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I wondered if I’d ever had a real conversation. Well, maybe. With Jamie.
We didn’t have anything else to say, and there was nothing else for me to do, and Charles and J’mee had to go to work, so we said goodbye, and I went down to the farms again, but this time not the garden.
This time I went to a different cavern, one that hadn’t been started yet. This one was a deep empty gloom, filled with soft churned earth, all raw and dark. It smelled rank and dirty. Someday maybe, the first seeds would be planted here and, not too long after that, the first green shoots would poke themselves up through the soil, then open their first leaves and start reaching for the light.
But not yet. Not for a while. Not until all the meetings were held and all the possibilities were considered and somebody made a decision just what kinds of seeds would be started here, in this cavern. And not until the right kind of soil had been installed. It’s a very complicated process. Jeremy says it’s somewhere between chemistry and alchemy. It needs composting and fungi and worms and the right amounts of heat and nitrogen and CO2 and a lot of other things too.
All the waste from the rest of the colony has been stored in tanks and will be piped into the new farm level—all the ground-up garbage from the cafeteria, all the fertilizer processed from feces and urine, all the cast-off biomass from our harvests, everything organic. The bots will spread it in layers and then churn it into the dirt, spraying everything with all the little microbes that feed on waste and garbage. What some people call decay is really a whole other ecology. Tiny little organisms, fungi, bacteria, microbes, eating waste and excreting stuff that growing plants can use as nutrients.
After a while, we add worms. Red wigglers, white worms, earthworms, and even two species of Hella worms that we’ve decided to like. When worms wriggle around in the dirt, they leave behind castings. Worm manure. It’s full of other nutrients and makes the soil even more fertile for
growing things. From time to time, the bots will dig up a square meter of soil and count the worms in it. The more worms, the healthier the soil.
And the whole time, even more garbage and biomass are ground up and churned into the soil. This can go on for months, even years, until the soil is just right. The only organic material that doesn’t get ground up are the bodies of the dead.
Whenever a colonist dies, the body is wrapped in white linen and buried in a farm level. Although most people would prefer to be buried in a garden level, the real need is in the developing farm levels. It’s a way to keep on contributing to the colony, even after death. Just like White Foot’s death contributed to the survival of her daughters.
The ones who will eventually be buried here will have their names engraved on the wall of the chamber. I put my hand on the wall of the cavern. It was smooth and cold. There were no names here yet, but maybe Jamie’s name would be here soon. And Captain Skyler’s too. But not until it was safe to recover the bodies. Or maybe they would be buried at Summerland. Mom would know. Summerland doesn’t have the same kinds of caverns, but they dig deep and construct rows of giant bunkers and the same disciplines are practiced. I wondered what I would feel when I saw their names on the wall.
“Kyle?”
I turned around. Jeremy. “How did you know I was here?”
He held up his pad. “I monitor all the farm levels. Sometimes we get people coming down to pick their own fruit. They’re not supposed to. The first time they do it, I give them what they want and ask them not to do it again. The second time they come down, I tell the Council. It’s not fair to everybody else. But some people think nobody will notice.” He scowled. “And some people think they’re entitled because they’re related to me.”
“Oh,” I said. “Is that why you’re estranged?”
“That’s part of it.”
He looked at my hand on the wall. “Are you all right?”
“I was just . . . you know.”
“Thinking about the names?”
“Uh-huh.”
He stepped closer. He lifted his hand as if he wanted to put it on my shoulder, but then he lowered it again. “I know it hurts, kiddo. Losing part of your family.”
“Jamie used to call me kiddo. He was the only one.”
“Oh. I won’t do it again. If it bothers you, I mean.” He paused. “Do you want something to eat? Or drink? I’m experimenting with some new flavors of juice. Kiwi and lime.”
I followed him back to the lab section of the farm and through that to his living quarters. He had a galley and a bedroom and an office. He had more room than any other single person at Winterland. He saw me looking around at all the space and laughed. “This was originally set aside for a whole family. There’s two more rooms behind that partition. But I don’t need that much space. Maybe if we get some more farmers from the Cascade, I’ll have to give up some of this space. But most of our farmers like to live upstairs, or in the new section.” He poured a small glass of greenish juice and pushed it over to me.
“I can’t say I like the color,” I said. “It looks kinda like—”
“Yeah, it does. But taste it anyway. Tell me what you think?”
It was both sweet and tart. Too tart. I puckered my face.
“You don’t like it?”
“I don’t know.” I took another sip. “It’s good, but it needs something else. Pineapple? Strawberry?” I thought for a moment. “I know. Try a little peach nectar.”
He nodded. “That’s a good suggestion. Come take a walk with me, we’ll go find a ripe peach.”
We took the elevator up to the orchard level. It was one of the first farm caverns carved inside the Winterland volcano, so it was also the highest. Everything after that went deeper.
“Jeremy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Do you like me?”
“Huh? Yes. Of course, I do.”
“No, I mean . . . like me like . . . like a boy friend?”
He looked surprised.
I explained. “J’mee says you do.”
“She does?”
“Uh-huh. Is she right?”
We got out of the lift. The smell of sweet fruit enveloped us like a hug. Jeremy led me around a wide curving path.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m trying to think of the right thing to say, Kyle. Do you want me to like you that way?”
I stopped and looked at him. “I don’t know.” I felt very hot and uncomfortable inside. My throat felt tight, and it was hard to swallow. “I wish Jamie were here so I could talk to him. He’d know what to say. He always knew.” I felt my eyes starting to hurt. I was afraid I was going to start crying.
“It’s all right to feel bad, Kyle. How bad you feel shows how much you still love him. I know he loved you very much.”
And then I did start crying. Great heaving sobs. Screams of anguish. I howled. All the pain came raging out of me. I flailed my arms and legs. Jeremy moved quickly, caught me from behind, held me in his arms and shouted in my ears. “That’s the way, Kyle! Let it out! Let it all out! Scream it out! All of it! Don’t stop! Don’t stop until there’s nothing left!”
At last, we sank to the ground, both of us, and I lay there in his lap, gasping for breath, quietly weeping, tears running down my cheeks, and Jeremy was gently stroking my head and whispering. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You’re safe with me. It’s all right. You did good, you did good.”
He undid the scarf he wore around his neck and mopped gently at my nose and cheeks. I stayed there, head in his lap for the longest time. At first, I was just too weak to sit up, and then after a bit, I just didn’t want to. I felt comfortable.
“Is this what boy friends do?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “It is.”
“Do you want to be boy friends?”
“I think it would be very nice, Kyle.” He leaned over me so I could see his eyes. “I know you have your own rules for the way you think things should be. So I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to, all right?”
“We could hold hands,” I said. And then another thought occurred to me. “Do you want me to be a girl? I was born a girl. I could change back.”
“Only if that’s what you want.”
I wiped my nose on my sleeve and sat up to look at him. “I think—you tell me if I’m getting it right—I think that being a boy friend or a girl friend or a whatever means that you’re like family and you can talk about stuff together and it’s all right to talk about it. Is that the way it works?”
Jeremy smiled. “That sounds right to me. In fact, that’s probably one of the best parts of the whole friend thing, boy or girl.”
“Okay, good.”
We stood up, brushing ourselves off. I turned to him. “Should I hug you?”
“If it would make you happy. I know it would make me happy.”
So I did something I’d never done before. I hugged. I hugged him close and held him tight. It was a very strange feeling. Not icky at all.
Then we found a peach and we held hands as we went back down to the lab and his apartment. Adding peach nectar made the drink much smoother, and we both agreed it was better, but neither of us was sure if it was something we’d like to drink all the time. Jeremy called it “an acquired taste.” We decided to test it on J’mee and Charles the next time they visited the farms. Maybe they would have some ideas.
* * *
—
That night, in the shower, I realized something—something that made me feel sad, but satisfied at the same time. I realized I’d made a decision for myself. Without Jamie there to help me.
I missed Jamie. So much. I missed his jokes. I missed his advice. I missed being ab
le to talk to him and have him listen with wide-eyed interest. I missed the feeling of having a safe place. But Jamie had said that one day I’d have enough confidence in my own self that I wouldn’t need to talk about everything with him. He said that he would be very proud of me when that happened, but also very sad because he would miss being my big brother. I didn’t understand exactly what he meant by that. Nuance again. So I said, “But you’ll always be my big brother.”
He said, “Yes, I will. But someday I’ll be your big brother in a different way.” And that day was here and I think I finally understood. I could make my own decisions. I could even change back to a girl if I wanted to. I didn’t have to be like Jamie anymore.
There was a lot to think about. But I didn’t have to figure it out tonight. I could sit with Jeremy. We could talk about it. We could figure it out together. Or I could figure it out myself. Whatever I wanted. I fell asleep easily and, for the first time since the migration, I slept through the whole night.
* * *
—
Mom and Lilla-Jack were having meetings every night. Sometimes the meetings were held at the apartment. There would be as many as seven people at a time. Mom and Lilla-Jack would serve dinner, but the guests weren’t our usual friends. Mostly it was team leaders and managers.
They talked about stuff that had a lot of nuance in it, so I usually stayed in my room, watching new videos from the library that the Cascade had brought from Earth. Sometimes I ate dinner in my room too. I don’t like crowds and I don’t like strangers. Mom didn’t object.
But one time I came out to get some tea and dessert, and they were all arguing loudly. It must have been very important, so I stopped to listen. Commander Nazzir sat at the head of the table and when he rang the bell in front of him, everybody stopped talking at once. “That’s all very well and good,” he said. “But whether he stole the election or not, arguing about technicalities is not going to produce any useful result. The election is over, and we have to play the cards we’ve been dealt. I’m going to say it again, this is all about the math, nothing else. It doesn’t matter how passionate you are, or how good your speeches are, we’re still three votes short. And as long as he controls one-third of the votes on the Council, you’ll never override his veto. You’re not going to stop him unless you can find three strong candidates.”
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