Garrison strode forward. “Did you see the modules, Dale? That’ll save a year’s worth of work right from the outset, and we can build upon that. Once we show real progress, I can convince additional clans to chip in. We’ll remake Rendezvous with an even brighter future.”
The smile froze on his face when Olaf entered the chamber like a walking storm, and all hope dwindled from Garrison’s heart. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Thank you, Father.” He felt like a fool for thinking the man would welcome any change to his grandiose plan. “This is Elisa Enturi, a representative from Iswander Industries.”
“Iswander? What the—”
Garrison continued talking, intentionally ignoring his father’s reaction. “With the clan Reeves line of credit, I secured these sixteen advanced modules manufactured by Iswander Industries on Earth.”
“How did they get here from Earth?” Olaf demanded.
“We brought them,” Elisa said in a stony voice. He realized with some embarrassment that she had expected exactly this reaction, even though she didn’t even know Olaf Reeves. “Contracted and delivered. Your son came to our headquarters, negotiated with Lee Iswander to reach a mutually beneficial deal. If you wish, I can supervise the installation of these modules and instruct your clan members in their use.” Her tone held cool sarcasm.
“I do not wish,” Olaf growled. “And I do not wish you here. This is a Roamer place. Lee Iswander turned his back on his heritage, but you were never a Roamer at all, were you, woman?”
“No, sir. And I was never a bigot either.” Her eyes flared. “I am what I’ve made of myself. I rose above the disadvantages and prejudices of my upbringing.”
Olaf recoiled; no one had ever spoken to him like that before. Then she drove in the knife further. “I’m pleased to see Garrison is rising above his family prejudices as well. Visionary people can break free of the chains that hold them back. By bringing you these modules to improve your construction project, he’s demonstrated that he will be a forward-thinking clan leader.”
“We don’t want your modules,” Olaf said. “Take them back and return our money. We don’t need any favors from Earth.”
“It’s not a favor—it’s a business deal,” Garrison said.
“It’s from Earth!” Olaf roared. “The Earth Defense Forces destroyed Rendezvous, and I will not accept their help as a way of forgetting what they’ve done. Take your modules away.”
“No. I refuse.” Elisa crossed her arms over her breasts. “It was a business deal, duly executed by an authorized representative of clan Reeves. The modules are paid for, and I’ve delivered them as requested. Our business is completed.”
Garrison felt furious, on Elisa’s behalf as well as his own. “Father, how dare you treat her that way? The Roamer clans operate on a basis of honor.”
“We—she is from Earth. She has no honor!” Olaf snapped.
“Obviously, neither do you,” Elisa said. “I no longer require any further hospitality from Rendezvous. Thank you for your business, Garrison.” She returned to her ship in the landing bay, leaving Olaf Reeves defiant but impotent behind her. She hadn’t even entered the main complex. Now she sealed her ship behind her.
Sendra Detemer wore an amused smirk on her face, pleased to see the clan leader put in his place. Dale’s expression was full of horror.
When the Iswander ship’s engines roared, Elisa didn’t even request clearance. She simply departed through the atmosphere-containment field and dodged away from the broken asteroids.
Olaf looked furious enough to suffer a stroke. “We will not touch those modules. They have nothing to do with us.”
“Then you’re a fool, Father. They are viable equipment. Roamers always make use of any available resources.”
“Not resources from Earth,” Olaf said. “Earth destroyed this place.”
After Elisa’s shocking defiance, Garrison felt his own increasing anger. “You are the one destroying this place, Father. You are not focused—you’re blind.”
Olaf strode over to the wall intercom and called the chief engineer. “Bjorn, withdraw your teams and cease operations with those modules. We will not use them.”
Bjorn’s voice came back. “But they’re perfectly adequate. I’ve already figured out how we can expand asteroid number six. It’ll allow us to reopen operations within a month, and from there we can—”
Olaf shouted into the intercom. “I issued my command! Disengage the tethers and make sure the modules drift far enough from Rendezvous that they don’t pose a further navigational hazard.”
The other end of the comm remained quiet for a long moment. “You certain, Olaf? It seems such a waste.”
“It’s for our own protection. I’m the clan leader. Do as I say.” He switched off the intercom without waiting for a response.
Garrison stood simmering, so angry he couldn’t speak. Olaf gave him a haughty glare, as if he had just achieved some kind of victory. Those efficient and expensive Iswander modules would soon be drifting loose, wasted, a symbol of Iswander’s innovation as well as the stubborn ignorance of clan Reeves.
At the breaking point, Garrison stepped forward. “That was a stupid thing to do, Father. I’m trying to lead this clan, to show the rest of the Roamers that we aren’t as foolhardy as they all say we are. Now we won’t achieve success because of your stubborn arrogance.”
Olaf didn’t speak. He simply reached out and struck Garrison across the face, slapping him hard. Garrison stood strong, felt the pain burning on his skin, but he would not back down. His father had tried to grind him under his heel too many times, had stifled him again and again. This time, Garrison responded. He slapped his father back.
Astonished, Olaf’s eyes flared wide. Dale gasped out loud.
Garrison stepped away. “Don’t treat me like a fool, Father, when you’re an even bigger one.”
Without another word, Garrison climbed back inside the Workhorse and activated the engines. He felt no regrets as he flew away from Rendezvous.
Chapter Nine
Rlinda Kett
With good grace, Rlinda let Tasia and Robb fly the Voracious Curiosity off to Newstation. Although she wouldn’t admit it, she was perfectly happy to let someone else do the piloting, so long as they agreed to take care of the maintenance and paperwork once they docked at the Roamer station.
Though he was only eight years old, Xander seemed intensely interested in the controls of the piloting deck. He was no rambunctious child; rather, he seemed ready to become a pilot in a year or two.
“We’re going to make a detour on our way to Newstation,” Rlinda announced. When Robb looked up in surprise from the navigation console, she made a calming gesture. “It’ll be less than a day. I do have an actual job as Trade Minister, you know. I can’t just fly wherever I like.”
Tasia laughed. “Shizz, I thought that’s exactly what your job was.”
“I suppose it is, but Peter and Estarra want me to check out the new Roamer skymining operations at Belliros. Clan Duquesne put two cloud harvesters into service, and they’ve been at it for six months without incident. I want to applaud them.”
“We can report to Speaker Kellum, too.” Tasia lounged back in the too-wide pilot’s seat as Robb plotted the alternate course. “Where did clan Duquesne get the financing for two skymines? When my brother Ross built a new one he stretched our clan finances to the breaking point.” She scowled. “And then the damn hydrogues blasted it out of the clouds within the first months.”
“The Duquesnes aren’t a wealthy family?” Robb asked.
Tasia laughed. “They don’t have much money or much good will.”
Rlinda drew a breath. “They got the financing to buy two mothballed skymines through a special grant from the Confederation, and in return they promised to deliver eighty percent of their production to the CDF for ten years. We need the stardrive fuel, and not many clans are willing to risk skymining again. Even though the hydrogues
haven’t shown themselves in nine years, we all know they’re still down there, probably angry.”
Robb swallowed hard. “Nobody likes angry hydrogues.” He and a small group of prisoners had been held hostage deep within a gas giant, prodded and tortured by the liquid-crystal aliens as well as the evil Klikiss robots. “I hoped they were completely defeated.”
“Defeated may just be another word for plotting revenge,” Rlinda said. “I wouldn’t bet my life that we’ve seen the last of them.”
“Sounds like clan Duquesne is making exactly that bet,” Tasia said.
* * *
The equatorial bands of Belliros were habitable, though frequently plagued by moon-sized storms. As the Curiosity approached the swirling soup of gray-green clouds, Rlinda watched several ekti tank arrays racing off.
“That’s a lot of stardrive fuel,” Robb said. “I thought they were supposed to sell most of it to the CDF.”
Rlinda frowned as she watched the tank array depart. “That was the arrangement, but it looks like the Duquesnes made side deals as well. Good thing this is an unannounced visit. I’ll have to … mention it to them.” She took the comm controls herself and contacted the primary skymine. “This is Trade Minister Rlinda Kett here for an inspection tour. I’d also like to meet with Clyde Duquesne at his earliest convenience.” She switched off the voice pickup and grumbled, “And it better be convenient pretty damn soon.”
The surly old clan leader was surprised to hear from her. He sputtered and made excuses, then thought better of it and welcomed them. Tasia received landing coordinates, but Rlinda took the controls. “I’ll fly her in myself.”
Two more ekti tank arrays darted off. The traders—black marketeers, presumably—had obviously eavesdropped on the transmissions.
The skymine was an old wreck, damaged in a hydrogue attack during the War, but it was now back in service. Rlinda landed smoothly on the designated open-air platform near the top of the control decks. As they emerged, Tasia held her son’s hand. “Don’t run—you might slip off the edge of the platform and then you’d fall for hours ... before the hydrogues got you.”
Xander didn’t seem impressed. “If I fell for hours, you’d have time to fly down and catch me before the hydrogues got me.”
Robb patted the boy’s shoulder. “If you were dumb enough to fall off the edge, what makes you think we’d bother to retrieve you?”
The winds whistled around the detection towers and the weather-monitoring systems. Some brave Roamers had climbed up the tall, flimsy towers, paying no attention to the heights. Others flew skimmerbikes off to raft platforms that would become satellite storage depots when clan Duquesne produced ekti faster than they could ship it to customers.
Grizzled Clyde Duquesne, wearing a faded Roamer jumpsuit and a long red scarf, strode out to meet them. In the high skies, the winds blew his thin white hair and the scarf around his face. He was accompanied by a haughty-looking young man, who sneered openly while Clyde pretended to smile. Rlinda wasn’t sure which expression she preferred. Neither, she decided.
The clan leader extended a hand. “Captain Kett, we didn’t expect you.”
“Obviously,” she muttered. “The King and Queen wanted me to check your skymining operations, and since we’re heading for Newstation, I can report to Speaker Kellum about what you’re doing here.” She frowned. “I hope all those ekti tank arrays were headed for Earth, per your financing agreement. The military needs fuel more than anyone, so we can maintain our defenses.”
“Of course.” Clyde looked embarrassed. “Some of those traders were also taking samples as a goodwill gesture to other clan operations. Potential customers, in the long term.”
Rlinda knew he was lying through his teeth. The young man at his side spoke up. “Roamers stick together. We have to make this business viable, in light of the risks we’re taking.”
“Nobody’s claiming otherwise,” Rlinda said. “I just prefer that people keep their agreements.”
“Our second skymine will be up and running within the month,” Clyde said. “And we’ll double our production. My son Aaron is impatient and ambitious—good qualities in a business manager.”
“So is reliability,” Tasia said.
Clyde brushed her concerns aside. “Let’s not dwell on the matter. I’ll give you a tour of the skymine so you can make an accurate report. We’re very proud of what we’ve accomplished.”
Clyde Duquesne led them through the operations, taking them from level to level. The huge structure drifted over Belliros, skimmed the misty clouds with dangling kilometers-long probe antennae that analyzed the atmospheric composition. Wide intake scoops drew in the chemical-laden gases, and processed them through giant, roaring reactor chambers to skim out the rare hydrogen allotrope that powered stardrives.
“The chemical composition of these cloud bands is adequate for conversion to ekti.” Clyde gestured toward his teams of Roamer engineers working at the monitoring stations. “The ekti potential is lower than in some gas giants, but we chose Belliros because it was relatively quiescent during the Elemental War. The drogues weren’t too territorial about this world.”
“Who can understand the hydrogues?” Robb asked.
Clyde Duquesne scratched the stubble on his left cheek and tossed one end of his red scarf over his shoulder. “All I understand is that we need to produce stardrive fuel, and this is our best shot. If the drogues don’t bother me, then I won’t bother them. We’ll happily harvest ekti and be good neighbors.”
“Until they come up and attack,” Tasia said.
Rlinda shot her a glare. “We’re not trying to discourage the Roamer operations.”
“We’re realistic about the danger,” said Aaron, “but we decided to take the risk anyway, because the first Roamers back in ekti production will be rich.”
Clyde nodded at his son. “That’s what we’re counting on.”
For centuries, the Roamer clans had operated huge skymines on many gas giants, producing stardrive fuel for both the Terran Hanseatic League and the alien Ildiran Empire. The clans had made themselves indispensible and wealthy by becoming the primary providers of ekti—until the mysterious hydrogues had risen up in their crystalline warglobes to destroy one Roamer skymine after another, forcing the clans to stop harvesting ekti, even though humans and Ildirans were utterly dependent on the stardrive fuel. After years of the most devastating conflict in human history, the defeated hydrogues had retreated into gas giants, but the deep-core aliens were still there and could still pose a threat.
Rlinda understood the extreme risk that clan Duquesne was taking, and she didn’t entirely begrudge them making a profit on the side. When the second cloud harvester went online, not only would it increase production here on Belliros, it would also prove the concept and convince other clans to get into the business again.
If only the hydrogues left them alone in the meantime.
Finished with the tour, Clyde was eager to get them back to the Curiosity and on their way, and Rlinda had seen all she needed to see. Standing next to the ship, they looked out at the restless sea of mists, smelling the bitter tang of chemicals as deep storms stirred the undercurrents.
The boy Xander leaned over the rail and peered down. “Will we see any hydrogues?” Robb took hold of his collar so that he wouldn’t fall overboard.
“Let’s hope not,” Tasia said.
“We’ve seen no sign of them at all,” Clyde said in a vehement voice.
“They won’t bother us,” Aaron insisted. “They got trounced so badly we’ll never see their warglobes again.”
“I hope you’re right,” Rlinda said. “I’ll deliver my report to Speaker Kellum as well as to the King and Queen on Theroc. Keep doing what you’re doing.” She hardened her voice. “Just remember where your priorities are. The CDF needs stardrive fuel—and you’ll definitely want their Mantas and Juggernauts fully fueled if the drogues ever show themselves.”
“If we were in trouble, they’d
never get here in time,” Aaron said.
“Probably not,” Clyde added, “but Captain Kett is right. If we weren’t optimistic, we wouldn’t have taken this deal in the first place.”
“I’m sure everything will turn out just fine.” Rlinda looked down at the mysterious clouds, watched air currents make dizzying swirls below. The thick clouds of Belliros could have hidden anything. “It’s not just whistling past the graveyard.” She fervently hoped she was right.
Chapter Ten
Daniel
He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave his family, but Daniel was the only one who could accomplish this mission. He knew that.
He put on clean clothes and took the better of his two hats, while Serene packed him some cheese, smoked sausage, two apples, nuts, and half a loaf of grainy bread. Then he went to say goodbye to his children. He found them playing with other boys and girls outside the schoolhouse, since the teacher had suspended classes. Daniel called out, “Ruth, Malachi, Enoch—come here!” They ran up with worried expressions, while the other boys and girls stopped playing.
“What’s the pack for?” asked Malachi.
“I’m going away for a little while to see if I can bring help.”
“Can I go?” asked Enoch.
Daniel’s heart broke. Yes, he wanted to take them with him, all of them. He knew the doom that the colorful grieka flowers would bring. If his family followed him through the transportal wall, they would be safe from the coming spore storm—but none of the others in the community would be. These were his people now, his extended family, and he wouldn’t abandon them.
“Not this time. I have to help everyone.” He swept them up in a fierce embrace, feeling the solidity of their bodies. These children were his. He and Serene had created them. They were part of his heart and his blood. He had to save them. He had to! “Take care of your mother. Watch over her, and she’ll watch over you.”
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