by Joe Vasicek
“Daddy?” Mariya asked, stepping out from the family room. Her voice was tinged with fear, and her eyes widened like full moons the moment she saw him. Without another word, she ran up and threw her arms around him, hugging him so tightly it made a lump rise in his throat.
“I’m so glad to see you, Mariya.”
“Me too, Daddy.”
“Jakob?”
This time, Salome stepped into view. She froze, and for a moment, Jakob wondered if they would fall into another argument. But then, her lip began to quiver, and she ran up to join him in an embrace.
“Oh, Jakob—we were worried sick about you. There’s been a spate of suicides on the news feeds, and when you didn’t come home, we feared the worst. Are you—are you all right?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
She burst into tears and buried her face in his chest. “I’m so, so sorry! Whatever I said last night, I didn’t mean it. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course,” he said, stroking her back. “Of course I can.”
“I’ve got some good news, Daddy,” said Mariya, a brightness returning to her voice that felt as warm as the rays of a sun. “Yesterday, after you left, Jeremiah and I went to visit a friend of his. Well, not exactly a friend, but—here, let him tell you.”
“Welcome back,” said Jeremiah, nodding in greeting. “It’s good to see you, sir.” Noemi stood beside him, holding his hand.
“And you as well,” said Jakob, reverting to Gaian as he gently let go of his wife. “What’s this news Mariya tells me about?”
“We found passage back to the Outworlds, sir. A private colony mission to the Zarmina system has room for all five of us, and the captain has agreed to sign us on.”
His heart leaped in his chest. “A—a colony mission?”
“That’s right: a colony mission to the Zarmina system. It’s in the Far Outworlds, but not too far from the Oriana Cluster. I have some friends at Zeta Oriana who might—”
“How did you find this?”
Jeremiah glanced at Mariya for a moment, then back to him. “A friend of a friend was able to help us out. She has a lot of connections here at Oriana Station—I know her through my old mentor, who took me under his wing when I was just starting out as a starfarer.”
“How—how much does it cost?” Jakob asked, so dumbfounded he barely knew what to say.
“The cost? It’s nothing, sir. Just a favor from a fellow outworlder—a ‘free pass,’ like the one you gave us.”
That was too much. Jakob’s legs buckled, and he fell to his knees weeping.
Chapter 10
“Where are we going, Dad?”
Jakob swallowed, hardly slowing as he led his sons down the long, narrow corridor that ran along the lower housing level of quadrant three. He exchanged glances with Isaac, who looked up at him with a single question written across his face. Should we tell him? The answer, of course, was no.
“Uh, Dad,” said Aaron, “the elevators for our section are back there.”
“I know, son,” said Jakob. “We aren’t taking those elevators.” Too much of a chance that someone might see us.
“Then … where are we going?”
“I’ll let you know when we get there.”
Aaron gave a loud, exasperated sigh, as if to let the whole station know how much of an inconvenience his father was putting him through. That was the least of Jakob’s worries, though. The corridor was empty enough—empty and drab, with so many doors like uniform prison cells—but it was only a matter of time before Salome’s suspicions arose and she started looking for them. Knowing how many arguments they’d had over this issue in the last couple months, it wouldn’t take long.
“Everything’s secure,” Isaac whispered as they rounded a corner and headed toward a parallel apartment block. “All of my things are already stowed on board the Medea.”
“And Aaron’s?”
“As many as I could sneak out.”
Jakob looked his oldest son in the eyes. He was a tall young man, though a bit lanky, no doubt from the reduced food rations at Delta Oriana in the months before they’d fled. His chin and cheeks were a bit scruffy, and his curly black hair spilled almost to his shoulders. Still, there was a gravity in his expression—a confidence that demanded to be taken seriously.
He’ll do well out there, Jakob thought, more out of hope than conviction. He himself had been a bit younger when he’d set out on the Medea, and things had turned out all right. Isaac would find his way sooner or later. Most star wanderers did.
They rounded another corner and arrived at a set of passenger elevators, identical to the ones at their own apartment block. Jakob allowed himself to relax a little as they stepped inside—once they were on the main rimside corridor, there wasn’t much that Salome could do to stop them. She could always send one of the brothers-in-law who spoke Gaian, but Svenson was out working and all the others were plugged into the dream monitors. It would take time to send someone out to stop them—time that was now on their side.
“You’re seriously not going to tell me what this is about,” said Aaron, his statement more of a complaint than a question or observation. He smirked and shook his head. “What is this, some kind of kidnapping?”
In a sense, Jakob thought to himself. Isaac gave him another questioning glance, and he shook his head. They couldn’t tell Aaron yet—not when they were still so close to the family apartment.
The elevator ride, though only a couple of levels, was the longest in Jakob’s life. He stood with his sons in a silence that felt almost deathly. Perhaps that was because Isaac knew full well where they were going, even if Aaron didn’t.
Jakob remembered how difficult the moment of parting had been for him back on his birth world. For those first couple of days alone on the Medea, it really had felt like death. But looking back, he had no regrets. For Isaac and Aaron, it was bound to be the same—though perhaps they would regret not being able to tell their mother goodbye. But there was nothing Jakob could do to change that now. If Salome had had her way, their sons would be stuck here, trapped in this cesspit of humanity. Better to leave now, when they still had their whole lives ahead of them.
They stepped out onto the wide rimside corridor. As usual, the place was bustling with activity. Pilots and passengers from all across the local sector came and went from the docking gates, their starships visible through the windows that stretched along the floor and walls. Many of them wore strange and exotic clothing: robes and headscarves, skinsuits and sarongs. Several dark-skinned women with shaved heads and cybernetic eye implants passed them in the opposite direction, while a group of men clustered around a hookah pipe eyed the crowds from a hole-in-the-bulkhead café. After living at Megiddo Station for so many years, Jakob still found himself disoriented by the wide diversity of cultures at this major Outworld hub. From the way his sons stiffened, it was clear they felt the same way.
They’ll get used to it soon, he told himself. After a couple of trade runs, they won’t think anything of it.
“We’re going to the Medea, aren’t we?” Aaron stated more than asked. Jakob didn’t answer, but kept walking.
“I said, are we going to the Medea?”
Isaac took a deep breath. “Yeah. That’s where we’re going.”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you when we get there,” said Jakob. He didn’t raise his voice, but thankfully, Aaron kept to himself until they arrived.
They opened the airlock and stepped onto the ship. A lump rose in Jakob’s throat as he entered the familiar cabin, with its double bunks and wall compartments. The beds were already made—as usual, Isaac had been very thorough in following through with his instructions. A couple of the compartments were open, revealing vacuum-sealed food stores and carefully folded clothing.
“Hey, what’s with all the stuff in here?” Aaron asked. “Is someone getting ready to go?”
“Yes,” said Isaac. “We both are.”
Aaron’s eyes widene
d, and his lips curled up in a nervous smile. “Nuh-uh.”
“He’s right,” said Jakob. “I brought you here to see you both off. Coming here in secret was the only way to get past your mother.”
“Wait—both of us?”
“That’s right.”
Aaron’s smile fell sharply. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was the only way to make sure that you didn’t go tell Mom,” said Isaac. “I mean, the only way to make sure she wouldn’t find out and stop us.”
“It’s your choice, of course, whether to stay or go,” said Jakob.
“My choice? Wait—what about my things? My clothes, my—”
“I already brought them on board,” said Isaac. “The important things, anyway. They’re stowed in the footlocker under the bunks.”
“You mean you went through my things without asking me?”
“That’s not important,” said Jakob, stepping between them. “Look, boys—look at me.”
He placed his hands on their shoulders and looked them each in the eye. A somber silence fell over them. Isaac bit his lower lip, while Aaron started trembling.
“I know this isn’t easy for either of you,” Jakob began. “It certainly wasn’t easy for me when I was your age. It’s a vast and lonely universe out there, full of dangers and risk. Once you leave, you’ll probably never see me or the rest of your family again.”
“Then why are you sending us out?” Aaron asked in a shaky voice.
“Because it’s the only way to give you both a chance at a better future. You remember how hard it was to leave Megiddo Station, don’t you? How much we sacrificed just to get here? Well, the prospects aren’t going to get any better if you stay. The Deltan community is just too small and too poor. If you’re going to build a future for yourselves, you’ll have to do it the same way I did—by seeking your fortunes across the stars.”
Isaac nodded, his eyes dark and his jaw set. Aaron, on the other hand, looked as if he was about to have a breakdown. He shrugged off Jakob’s hand and turned to face the wall, burying his head in his hands.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he said. “You want me to leave everything behind? Just go, and never see you or Mom or Mariya ever again?”
“You won’t be leaving everything,” said Isaac. “Whatever happens, we’ll be in it together—we’ll still have each other.”
“Yeah. Right.”
“Like I said, the choice is yours,” said Jakob. “If you don’t want to go, you can take back your things and return to the apartment. I’m not going to force you.”
“But Aaron—do you really want to stay?”
Aaron looked up at his brother, his cheeks red and his eyes puffy. He took a deep breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“You’re going, then?”
“Of course I’m going. Dad was younger than me when he left, wasn’t he? The only reason I haven’t gone already is because of all the problems getting the rest of the family to Alpha Oriana.”
“But it’s different for you. You’re the oldest—it’s expected of you.”
“Perhaps,” said Jakob. “That is the tradition. But there’s nothing to say that the both of you can’t go together. The traditions exist to keep the Outworlds strong—to bring in new blood, and to prevent inbreeding and isolation. There’s space on the Medea for both of you, so as long as you can get along with each other and work together, I don’t see anything wrong with sending you both out.”
Aaron nodded. He took another long breath, and his eyes began to clear.
“Think of it as an adventure,” said Isaac. “You don’t want to spend the rest of your life at Alpha Oriana, do you? Ten standard years from now, what are you going to regret more?”
“I don’t know,” Aaron muttered. “It’s just so heavy …”
“You’ve got to make a decision one way or another. This isn’t the sort of thing to let drift away.”
“Am I really never going to see you again?” he asked, looking Jakob in the eye. The expression on his face stabbed Jakob to the heart.
“God knows,” he said softly. “But you probably won’t.”
“And Mom? Mariya?”
He shook his head.
“But—but how can I leave them without saying goodbye?”
“We can record a message and send it to them over the planetnet before we jump out,” said Isaac.
“I can’t say goodbye in person?”
“Your mother will do everything to stop you if you do,” said Jakob. “Trust me—it’s better this way.” Better not to remember her as an emotional wreck, screaming and raving at you to stay.
“Is the cargo hold full?” asked Isaac.
“Yes,” said Jakob, sighing a little. “I had it loaded this morning. The complete inventory should be in the computer.”
“Great. Where’s the best place to sell electronics?”
“Damned if I know, son. It’s been almost twenty standard years since my last trade run. Just keep your ears open and check the prices wherever you go, and you’ll be fine.”
“This is really happening, isn’t it?” said Aaron. His cheeks weren’t quite so red anymore.
“Only if you want it to,” said Isaac.
He nodded and bit his lip. “Right. You’re leaving now?”
“As soon as we can go.”
No regrets, Jakob thought, his eyes burning and his throat beginning to constrict. Follow the path of least regret.
“I’m coming,” said Aaron, his voice low but firm.
Isaac smiled and slapped him on the back. “Then welcome aboard, brother. I knew you’d come around.”
“I just hope we don’t kill each other before this is over.”
“Over? We’re just getting started.”
They gave each other a warm, brotherly embrace that made a lump rise in Jakob’s throat.
“I suppose that settles it, then. Very well—just remember to be careful. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if my sons died less than half a dozen parsecs from here.”
“Don’t worry, Dad,” said Isaac. “We’ll be careful.”
Aaron said nothing, but instead put his arms around his father and gave him a hug. A sharp pang of sadness cut through Jakob’s heart like a knife, and he returned his son’s embrace with a fierce one of his own. Isaac joined in, and they stood in silence for several moments on the cabin of Jakob’s old ship.
“Thank you, Dad,” Aaron whispered. “Thanks for everything.”
The other goodbyes all happened in a blur. The next thing Jakob knew, he was in the airlock, waiting for the door to hiss open so that he could return to Oriana Station. He glanced over his shoulder at the cold, windowless durasteel that separated him from his sons, and felt the same pang of sadness, only sharper this time.
It never goes away, does it? he wondered to himself. Still, there was a satisfaction in knowing that he’d given them a chance at a better life. Their destiny was in their own hands now, and that was exactly as it should be.
* * * * *
Jakob gazed out the window at the massive bulk of the colony ship Hope of Oriana. Though she wasn’t much to look at compared with some of the newer models coming out from the Coreward Stars, Jakob didn’t think he’d seen a more beautiful sight in his life. Rows of portholes along the dark brown hull showed bunkrooms and corridors, living space for more than two hundred people. The massive reactors and sublight engines at the back showed signs of quality engineering, the kind that could keep a ship running for generations if maintained properly. Pockmarks and micrometeor streaks showed the ship’s age, but she was built as solidly as any that Jakob had seen. He had little doubt she would take them safely to the Far Outworlds.
“Sorry I couldn’t find a better ship,” said Jeremiah. Jakob turned—he’d been so lost in his own musings that he hadn’t heard the young star wanderer approach. He fought back the urge to throw his arms around him and offered his hand instead.
&
nbsp; “There’s nothing at all to be sorry for. So long as she takes us far away from this hellhole, I’ve got no complaints.”
“The first officer said they can only take the five of us. I tried to bargain for a couple extra spots, so at least some of the extended family could come, but he wouldn’t budge.”
“That’s okay,” said Jakob, putting a hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder. “I doubt any of them would have come anyway. You did good, kid—you did real good.”
A wave of emotion rose up suddenly and threatened to overwhelm him. Jeremiah wasn’t much older than Isaac right now—perhaps at some star not too many parsecs distant, the Medea was about to take off as well. Or maybe, just maybe, his sons had settled down already to start families of their own. His throat suddenly hoarse, Jakob bit his lip and turned back to the window before he cracked.
“Noemi and I will take the Ariadne to make a few quick trade runs,” said Jeremiah. “We’ll rendezvous at one of the ports on your schedule before heading out to Zarmina—hopefully before the pregnancy is too advanced.”
“Right,” said Jakob, slowly recomposing himself. He gripped the guardrail under the window until his knuckles turned white.
“Well, if that’s all, I’d better get going. If I don’t get to see you before you go, may the Stars of Earth watch over and protect you.”
He turned and gave Jeremiah a warm hug. If the gesture was unexpected, he recovered quickly. They held each other in silence for a few moments, two friends of unequal ages made immeasurably closer through hardship and sacrifice.
“Thank you,” Jakob whispered. He let go and took a step back.
“Hey, we outworlders have to stick together. It’s what you would have done, right?”