I boarded the Q-Zone line, same as I did every day, and the vehicle rose up through twenty meters of rock toward the bright surface. The entire ride to the lonely plateau housing the Q-Zone, I stared through a window in hopes that I might see the silhouette of Saturn through Titan’s cloudy sky. I never did. Dazzling strings of lightning flickered in the distance and a storm gathered to obscure my view.
The line at the quarantine lobby was shorter than the day before, though security was even tighter. It made sense considering what had happened after Director Sodervall made his address, but it also meant it took just as long as ever for me to reach the reception window. When I finally got there, the same crotchety receptionist croaked: “Name and ID.”
I already had it out and ready to hand over. She studied it the same way she always did, as if it were her first time seeing it.
“Visiting?” she asked after she returned it to me.
“Katrina Drayton.”
She typed into her computer. “Hand-term—” She stopped herself. “One moment.” She leaned in closer and stroked the keys more aggressively. My fingers were tapping on the counter by the time she finally looked up again. The expression on her creased face was the same as usual, but I knew something was wrong.
“My apologies, Mr. Drayton,” she said. “Update just came in. According to the nurses, she’s not seeing any visitors today.”
“Is she all right?” I questioned.
“No changes in conditions. Note just says she wasn’t able to get much sleep last night and is under sedation.”
The image M showed me of her sprawled out on her bed filled my mind. “Can you tell her it’s me?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow.” The woman looked past me toward the rest of the line, as if I wasn’t even there. “Next!”
I didn’t move. After the shittiest day I’d had since I discovered my mom’s condition, I needed to see her. I needed to know what to do. “No,” I grumbled, a harsh edge creeping into my tone.
“Sir. Please step aside.”
Something snapped in me. I lunged at her window, my hands wrapping around the sill so tight that my pasty knuckles somehow went even whiter. “Tell her I need to see her!” I shouted.
A security officer seized me by the shoulders. He may have been shorter than I was, but his Earther brawn allowed him to easily tear me away from the window. I managed to squirm out of his thick arms, however, and leapt back at the window.
“Tell her!” I roared, pounding on the glass.
Suddenly, I felt like I was struck in my side by a bolt of lightning. I collapsed, drooling as my body convulsed from ten thousand volts of electricity surging through it. I’d been beaten plenty in my life, but this was the first time any officer had ever got me directly with the lit end of a shock-baton. My bones chattered, my organs felt like they were going to burst, and I think that at some point I vomited. It didn’t last long, but once I regained control of my body I was as sore as if I’d just put in a full day cleaning the Piccolo at High G. The officer heaved me against the wall and sat me up.
“Next time you’ll be locked up, Ringer!” he growled, waving his charged shock-baton. “Now get out of here!”
He kicked me in the leg and then returned to his post outside of the decon-chamber. There was no mistaking the pride in his expression as he and another officer exchanged a smirk.
The Q-Zone lobby was beginning to become a source of too much pain in my life. None of the Ringers waiting on line were foolish enough to try to help me up. I had to take my time and use the wall to haul myself back onto my feet because my fingers and toes were still twitching from the shock.
As I struggled to steady my shaking legs, the same woman I’d seen leaving visiting room C-7 the day before stepped up to the counter. She was beside an older man who looked like he could be her father. She had a quiet exchange with the receptionist, but then her face contorted and tears formed in her eyes.
“No!” she yelled. “No, he can’t be!”
She stumbled backward, no longer silent and somber but hysterical. She repeated “No!” over and over again as her father ran his fingers through her hair and attempted to comfort her. It was obvious he didn’t know what to say.
“Yesterday he was fine and now…” She broke down. Her father squeezed her and tried to hush her, but it didn’t work.
I felt bad for staring, but the entire line of Ringers joined me. Similar thoughts were probably running through all of their minds. My mother was wrong about what she said. It could get worse. At least she was still alive. Maybe it was the recent jolt to my system that made me realize it, but I couldn’t just wait around wondering what I should do next.
I turned away from the crying woman and her father, wiped my mouth, and dragged my battered body back toward the inter-block tram. Before I could decide for sure if I wanted to do what M was asking, I’d need to reclaim my old position on the Piccolo. I wasn’t going to risk searching Captain Saunders on Solnet with my compromised hand-terminal, and without his contact number I’d have to try to locate him in the Uppers before I sweated to death. There were only fourteen hours left on M’s offer.
Fortunately, I knew the captain’s favorite place. I just hoped he wasn’t too busy preparing for the imminent departure of his next shift to be there.
Chapter 7
A round of harvester shifts was just letting out when I arrived back in Darien. Unsurprisingly, more security officers were present in the Uppers than ever before. Every Ringer in sight had one in their shadow. Passing through the checkpoints took so long I thought I was going to explode. Another hour wasted.
I knew that on most mornings Captain Saunders frequented his favorite coffee shop. The majority of Earthers did. To them it was considered a high-end beverage, though I couldn’t figure out why. I found it repulsive. The captain had bought me a cup when I first signed on with the Piccolo and it almost made me throw up. The shop apparently imported theirs all the way from Earth, making it the most expensive drink on Titan.
Despite having been there before, it was taking me longer to find the place than I’d expected. The countless ads and white walls throughout the Uppers were disorienting, and landmarks were of no use, since the lofty ceiling was masked by a uniform layer of suspended gardens for the wealthiest of Earthers to enjoy. I remembered for sure that the shop was on a side of the Uppers that the path to the docks never took me on. It’d been nestled between two of the towering residential towers, which rose fifty meters to support the gardens as well as Darien’s enclosure.
The many, many Earthers shopping and eating kept their distance from me, so I couldn’t ask for directions, as if I were the one who could infect them. I didn’t mind. My recent trip to the Q-Zone had me on edge, and I made sure my mask and gloves were on as tight as possible.
I was beginning to grow frustrated with searching when I noticed a familiar planter filled with broad, frilly leaves and purple flowers. It was located at the base of the tower the captain’s brother lived in, directly across from the biggest viewport in the sector. From the correct angle it almost seemed like the plants were growing on the surface of Titan. Of course, as I neared, I could see the moon’s barren landscape stretching for kilometers.
The coffee shop was located in a glassy pavilion across from it. A line extended from the faux-wood counter in its center and out the front door past where an officer was posted. I didn’t see Captain Saunders anywhere inside, so I took a seat by the viewport and stared out at Titan while I waited. I needed to try to keep calm.
The view may have been nothing except for barren plains and distant, rock-strewn plateaus, but I found the moon’s severity beautiful in its own way. It was the only world I’d ever known. Saturn had no surface—nothing to ground me while I was there—so it was hard to count it.
A storm brewed in the distance, and lightning bolts danced across my view as if they were part of a choreographed light show. I must have watched it for thirty minute
s. It was the only thing keeping me sane as I continually checked the ever-replenishing line at the coffee shop for Captain Saunders.
My stomach started to growl and my neck got sore from supporting my head. At some point two security officers arrived to stand nearby, trying to pretend they weren’t watching me. It appeared the captain wasn’t going to be found so easily. My next move was to knock on his clan-brother’s door—my mom’s ex-employer, whose home I’d once robbed—to see if he could help. I just had to hope that the captain hadn’t already headed up to the Piccolo’s hangar on Pervenio Station, with the shift starting in a day.
I stood, but as I did I noticed someone familiar approaching the line in the pale reflection of the viewport. I spun excitedly and spotted Captain Saunders. He had the typical pinkish skin and stocky build of humans from Earth, though his arms appeared relatively weak compared with most. A prim beard hugged his jawline, mottled on the right side by a series of faded burn scars that were common amongst harvester workers. He didn’t move with the typical delayed hop-skip that walking under Titan’s Low G caused. I’d seen an ad earlier outside of the docks for a new line of form-fitting weighted suits, and the captain was wearing one under his synthetic-leather jacket.
“Captain!” I hollered, and jogged toward him. The looming security officers mobilized to follow me.
Captain Saunders’s head whipped around to face me. His baffled expression didn’t change when he realized who I was. He wasn’t used to seeing the Ringer members of his crew back on Titan.
“Drayton, what are you doing here?” he questioned. Every single Earther on line focused on us, which I’m sure only fueled the irritation in his tone.
I offered him a salute and took a moment to gather my breath. Sitting still for so long caused me to forget how much the heat was getting to me. “I need to talk to you, Captain,” I panted.
“Well, spit it out then, boy. I don’t have time to waste.”
“Sir, I made a mistake. I know what I told you last time we spoke, but I’d like my old job back.”
The captain sneered. “Is that what you expect? You tell me you want to explore other options and then I take you right back as soon as you have a change of heart. That’s no way to run a business, boy.”
“I know, but Desmond said you were still searching for my replacement.”
“Fucking Desmond,” the captain grumbled. He scratched his scruffy chin. “He is right. This break hasn’t been much of one, thanks to you.”
“I’m sorry, sir. But if you ju—”
He cut me off. “I wish it were just you, actually. People don’t want to work on an old-model harvester anymore, even if she works fine. Earthers won’t even respond to my postings, and last week two other Ringer maintenance workers got taken into quarantine. Probably enjoyed themselves a little too much on break, as usual.”
My features darkened, and he must have noticed because he cringed and momentarily dropped his gaze toward the floor. I doubted his clan-brother had told him the truth about my mom—he and the captain weren’t close or anything—but the Q-Zones were a sore subject for any of my kind, and not to be brought up lightly.
“Right, sorry,” he muttered. “Well, you’re in luck. If we go up there unmanned, we’ll risk becoming the next Sunfire. I need all the hands I can get back on the Piccolo.”
“Are you sure?” I cursed myself for giving him the opportunity to change his mind. I was expecting to have to beg him. Getting a spot on any harvester had been difficult when I first started, since Earthers got their choice of newer ships and of every position above maintenance.
“I don’t really have much of a choice. Shift leaves in a day, and like I said, the crew is light. You’ll be in the same position, mostly maintenance, and Culver will continue seeing to it that everyone who works hard gets the occasional chance to earn some mechanical training on real repairs. Offer is as solid as ever, though I will be docking you a small fee for the trouble you’ve caused me. We’ll call it five percent. Deal?”
He was a businessman before anything else, and I knew I shouldn’t expect a promotion after almost leaving; I wasn’t that important. I thought about telling him the truth about my mom to see if he’d change his mind, but the pay was no longer relevant. Captain Saunders was fair, and while I wouldn’t consider us friends, he’d given me my first chance in the real world. That was more than most Ringers from the Lowers ever got.
“That’s fine,” I said. “Sign me back up.”
“Good. Let it be a lesson that you can’t just go quitting on a whim, boy. Work is scarce. You’re not going to find much better on the Ring unless you know something about botany, or can get picked up for a security detail.”
“I know. It was a mistake.”
“Don’t let it happen again.” He patted me on the arm with his uncovered hand before I could dodge him. “Report to the Piccolo by tomorrow. I’ve got to try and find another Ringer or two to replace those I’ve lost, and then we’ll be off.”
“Works for me,” I said, attempting to distance myself from him in a way that wasn’t noticeable.
“It’ll be another four-month-long shift inside the gas giant, so pack a few shirts. Prove to me that you’re willing to stay on for the long haul and maybe in a year I’ll have you in line to be a mechanic. Maybe the head mechanic one day. We’re all growing sick of old Culver anyway.”
“Head mechanic?” I asked, shocked. Culver, the Piccolo’s elderly head mechanic, had creases on his face so deep that it looked like he’d been working on the ship since the day it was built. The crew used to joke that he’d die curled up in one of the harvesting canisters before he retired.
“Sure. You’ve always worked hard, and nobody seems to complain about you. I know you haven’t had too many opportunities, but everything you ever repaired always ran smoother after. How many Ringers do you know that can say they’re head mechanic of a gas harvester?”
“None,” I admitted. “It’s…it’s good to be back, sir.”
“It’s not like you missed a shift, but it’s good to have you back on board, Kale. Good workers aren’t easy to find these days.” He glanced over at the coffee shop. We were nearing the counter. “You having any?”
“No, sir. Hate the stuff.”
He shook his head. “I’ll never understand you people.”
I smirked. “Well. I’m going to head back to my hollow and start preparing,” I said. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down again.”
“I hope not.” He held out his exposed hand for me to shake. I gestured to my mask. I was wearing gloves, but after seeing my mother I couldn’t bring myself to risk touching an Earther willingly, no matter how safe the Pervenio newscasts claimed it was.
He shrugged. “Right, better you not go getting sick on me too. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t be late.” He didn’t wait for a response before turning to the coffee shop’s counter and deciding on his order.
It was done.
I released a deep breath. I knew I was making the best choice for my mother’s sake, though that didn’t mean I didn’t wish there was some other way. Maybe as a mechanic I’d be able to earn enough credits to help her honestly, but I’d have to wait years.
I left behind a spate of distrustful Earther glares and walked hastily back to the central lift down to the Lowers. A little too fast, apparently, because I didn’t get far before another stout security officer was shadowing me. I slowed down as much as my eagerness would allow. I didn’t want to raise suspicion, considering what I was thinking about doing.
By the time I reached the central lift and took the plunge I was so drenched in sweat that it was difficult to peel my clothes off for the decon-chamber. When I was finally through into Level B2 I sped up to a jog, and soon after a run. I could hardly contain myself.
A few beggars solicited me outside of a food stand selling the parts of plants nobody in the Uppers wanted. Groups of men snorted foundry salts in the shadows, their ragged sanitary masks and shirts ma
king them appear guilty even if they weren’t. They stared right through me as I passed.
My hollow was located along a long tunnel branching off of the west side of the central node. Benji was cleaning the outside of his hollow’s hatch with a rag that was probably only making it dirtier. I raced by him without bothering to say hello. My thumb extended to work the print-based locking mechanism, and that was when I noticed the view-screen posted adjacent to my hatch.
The month’s rent to Pervenio Corp had come up short. Apparently paying for both our home and my mom’s upgraded stay had now depleted my account as well as hers. We had a week to come up with the credits, or the hollow would be leased out to another poor Ringer scraping along for a living. Without John’s terminal or the noodle shop, I wasn’t going to be able to raise them. Even if she got out, my mother would be homeless.
“Everything all right, Kale?” Benji asked.
“Not now, Benji,” I said, seething. “Fuck!” I punched the screen as hard as I could. It was Pervenio-made so the thing didn’t even crack, but it sure as Trass hurt my knuckles.
“Kale!” Benji approached me, his face flush with concern. I thrust my finger in his direction.
“Would you just stay out of it!”
I flung open my hatch, stormed inside, and locked it. Then I hurried over to my bed and tore the hand-terminal out of my pillow. My chest heaved as I typed a response.
IF YOU CAN REALLY HELP MY MOTHER, I’LL HELP YOU. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU NEED?
KALE
I struck “Send” before I could second-guess myself. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling a sense of relief or nausea afterward, but my response to M streamed invisibly out into the ethers of Solnet.
I sat there for a while, barely able to tear my eyes off of the bright screen. I tried switching on the Darien Newsfeed to distract myself, but again that didn’t help. Playing was a story about Pervenio Corp’s decision to ask the USF Assembly to include offworlders in the Departure Lottery. The reporters said Titan’s locals were thrilled, and depicted the scene in the Upper Ward’s atrium from an angle that made it seem like it was a celebration. On one of the clips I could see myself standing in the corner of the screen, looking bewildered.
From Ice to Ashes Page 7