Change Horizons: Three Novellas

by Gun Brooke

  “I couldn’t leave her. She stopped breathing every five minutes. At least.” Uncomfortable at the praise, Meija sat down in the cleared dining area.

  Korrian placed a bowl of stew in front of her. “Utensils in the drawer under the table. What would you like to drink?”

  “Just water, please.”

  Soon they were both seated, eating in silence. Meija discovered she was actually famished and devoured her food without even looking up. She gulped down her water, and only then did she notice that Korrian had put down her spoon and regarded her with half a smile.

  “So, I was hungry after all. I had no idea.”

  “Glad you could eat.” Glowering down at her own bowl, Korrian merely drank her water and then began to clear the table. “Want more?”

  “No, no, thank you. I’m full.” Meija watched Korrian put the dishes into the cleanser unit. “I want to say something.” She looked at her laced fingers and then back up at Korrian, who had stopped what she was doing. “I realize you’re an intensely private person. I mean, I don’t know you, but it’s not like I’m totally blind. So for you to offer to share your quarters, just so this project doesn’t stall, is pretty fantastic. I appreciate it, and I’ll do my best to not get in your way.”

  Korrian avoided her eyes for a moment but then met Meija’s gaze head-on. “You don’t have to feel you’re intruding. Not at all. I’m not the easiest person to get along with, and most of my staff would agree that I’m hard to please. You, however, have some good ideas that I hadn’t allowed myself to consider quite the same way before.” Frowning, Korrian rubbed her temple. “Which is not usually how I function at work either, strangely enough.”

  “So we’re really off to a new start?” Meija hoped this was true.

  “Looks like it. The fact that neither of us has yelled at the other in hours must be a good sign.”

  Meija laughed. She had to since this was the first time she’d noticed Korrian showing any trace of a sense of humor whatsoever. “Guess we should get down to the mayhem.”

  “Yes. They should be done with the security sweeps of our part of the space-dock. As the senior officer among the engineers, I need to be there.”

  “And where you need to be, so do I.” Meija only realized how that might sound when the words left her lips. “I mean, workwise. Not on your free time. So. Well.” Stop talking! Meija adjusted her uniform and placed a new cap on her unruly hair before she looked briefly at Korrian.

  Korrian actually smiled. Not the disdainful smirk that Meija had seen countless times before, but a small, bashful, and rather endearing smile. Genuine-looking.

  “Let’s go,” Korrian said, and held open the door. “Hey, wait. Let’s get your handprint logged in for the inner door.” She opened a small door to the right of the door. “Place your palm here.” She pointed to a silvery square inside. As Meija held her hand against it, Korrian entered her code and finished by confirming the entry with her own handprint.

  The elevator was out of service, as it had to be scanned by the safety teams, so they had to hurry down the stairs and reached their offices and main engineering just in time to catch Gessley as he walked out of the conference room.

  “Good timing,” he said, looking tired. “They’re waiting to grill you. Especially you, Meija.” He shook his head.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Korrian asked before Meija had a chance.

  “Just that they’ve heard about the way Meija’s been complaining about the Exodus project.” Gessley shrugged. “I told them they’re totally off track, but from looking at them—”

  “Ms. Solimar. Perfect timing.” A tall, gangly woman stood in the doorway to the conference room. “Why don’t you join us first, and my colleague will interview Commander Heigel in the room across from here?” Her black bangs framed a face consisting of sharp planes and narrow, dark eyes.

  “Sure, why not?” Meija swallowed her sudden onset of nerves. Glancing at Korrian, she shrugged and followed the LEO officer.

  Three men sat around the table and looked at her in a non-expressive way similar to the woman’s. “I’m Inspector Nacqui. These gentlemen are on my team.” Nacqui didn’t introduce them by name but merely gestured for Meija to take a seat. Leaning against the table next to Meija, Nacqui towered above her, pursing her lips for a few moments before she spoke. “So, Ms. Solimar, we hear that you’re not a fan of the Exodus project?”

  Chapter Four

  Korrian waited impatiently for Meija to emerge from the conference room. Her own interview had only taken twenty minutes, a mere recounting of what she remembered from the first and second explosion. It bothered her that some questions seemed to indicate an interest in Meija’s whereabouts as well as her opinions. Could they seriously suspect her of sabotaging the Exodus project? Meija was driven and convinced that her ideas about how the generational ships should be constructed had merit.

  “Looks like they think they’re onto something with Meija.” Gessley Barr showed up and handed her a cup of tea. “I mean, I like the kid, I do, but she’s been stirring things up ever since Minister Desomas commissioned her. Not smart when you want to change something from within. I tried telling her that.”

  “I thought you agreed with her?” Korrian held her mug but didn’t drink. Instead she paid attention with her entire system to the man who’d listened to her complaints regarding Meija so many times.

  “Some of her thoughts about not treating our people as cattle—her words, not mine—were correct,” he said. “She’s young, of course, and idealistic. She doesn’t know when to back off, when to compromise.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Korrian didn’t like that Barr was selling Meija short this way.

  “No, I’m not. I’m devastated that people got hurt today, and it sure pains me that someone among us would resort to such methods.”

  “I must be more exhausted than I realized. Who are you accusing, exactly?” Korrian put her mug down, untouched.

  “Oh, nobody in particular. You know, the person responsible might not have realized how severe the blast would become. She—they might just have tried to make a stand for what’s right. You know, these fools and the way they demand righteousness and sacrifice and so on. Idiots.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like this, Barr. They might oppose the project, but everyone is entitled to their opinion.” Was Barr the type that was only too ready to distance himself from someone who looked like they might drag him down? “You’re not suggesting Meija could be behind the attack, are you?”

  “I wouldn’t presume to have an opinion as to who the saboteur is.” He shrugged. “All I know is she’s the newest one here, and she’s sure brought some serious critique to the table. She’s probably nothing more than a young, idealistic do-gooder. Who knows?”

  “If she’s anything, she’s brave, bordering on foolish.” Korrian shook her head and strode over through her office to where the maintenance staff had now put back her desk. She ran some diagnostics on her equipment, relieved that everything seemed intact. “Computer. Pull up latest schematics.”

  “Affirmative.” The last blueprints lay spread over her large desk sheet. Korrian grabbed her laser pen and went to work. Her mind was still jumbled with thoughts of Meija and what might be going on behind the door to the conference room. The passionate Meija, who’d risked her life for someone she hardly knew a few hours ago, would never sabotage the Exodus project. Would she? An evil voice tried to spread doubt in the back of her mind. Would Meija go to such extremes to get her way, and the way of the minister who placed her on the space-dock?

  But when would she have placed the devices, and how? Granted, Meija could have come and gone as she pleased within the facility, but only during the times when she was logged in to be there. She had stayed in the space-station hotel nearby until today and had to take the shuttle over, which was recorded. What if surveillance cameras could place her in the places where the explosives had been placed? Granted
, lots of contractors and personnel visited several of the units in the dock, but in Meija’s case, which was already on the LEO’s radar, her presence there could be potentially very damning.

  She heard the door open down the corridor and slowly shifted so she could peer outside. Meija stepped out and closed it behind her. She stood leaning against it for a few moments, a trembling hand covering her eyes. That was enough for Korrian. She walked toward Meija, who looked up and smiled faintly, her lips tense and pale.

  “Now, that’s right on the top of my list of things to never do again, but I’ll probably have to repeat it tomorrow.” Her voice was as hollow as her eyes. “I was outraged and angry at first, but they kept going on and on, and now I’m just scared, Korrian. Looks like you’re getting rid of the thorn in your side when it comes to the design of the Exodus ships, anyway.”

  “What did they do to you? Weren’t you offered a lawyer, for heaven’s sake?”

  “They said it was just an interview—not a hearing.”

  “Sounds like complete garbage. If that were the case, you shouldn’t have to come out of there practically in tears.” Korrian’s blood began to heat up. If she allowed it to reach the boiling point, she’d march right in to the smug LEO officer and end up getting arrested herself. “We’re going to get you legal representation, just in case.”

  “I need to call Minister Desomas. She shouldn’t hear this from someone else. I can’t afford to lose her confidence in me.” Wiping at her eyes with furious flicks of her fingertips, Meija squared her shoulders. “I’m not taking the fall for this, just because they need someone to pin it on quickly. That means whoever is trying to sabotage the program might succeed since they can operate without—what? Ow, you’re pinching me.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Korrian hadn’t realized how firm her grip of Meija’s upper arm was. “You said whoever is trying to sabotage will be able to operate…undetected. That’s what you meant to say, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, knowing what a gossip mill this is, we can assume that the individual, or individuals, that are responsible for this have relaxed somewhat since LEO homed in on you.”

  “You say that like it’s a good thing.” Meija’s eyes darkened.

  “It is, well, not for you right now, but in the long run it can work to our advantage.” Korrian tugged at Meija. “Come on, we need to go to my office. Too many eyes and ears can spy here. My office is my domain. Nobody goes there without my say-so.”

  “I know.” Meija followed her. “Not if they value their lives. That’s the first information they gave me on my very first day here, on my introduction tour. Stay out of Heigel’s office.”

  “Seriously?” Korrian couldn’t tell if Meija was joking or not.

  “Said sort of tongue-in-cheek, but those of us on the tour knew it was true.”

  “Excellent.” Korrian pressed her palm to the sensor by her door. It opened and she motioned for Meija to step inside. She closed the door and then pulled a small, bullet-shaped scanner from her belt. Scanning the entire room, she put it back after reading the results carefully. “No sign of unauthorized surveillance equipment or explosive components.”

  “You always check for such things?”

  “Only the surveillance, since we construct sensitive technology here. I’m probably as naïve as everybody else here, because it never dawned on me that someone would dream of destroying the only chance we have to save our people.”

  “Clearly someone has a big problem with this concept. I know there’s a politically controversial force that says the Change is the natural way for our people to develop.”

  “And the scientists aren’t helping by bickering about why some people are changing and others aren’t. And why this started happening in the first place.” Korrian sat down by her drawing sheet and engaged her laser pen. “Use my private line to contact the minister. You will find the link-address to Viasan Jigher there as well.”

  “Viasan—that Viasan Jigher?” Meija stared at her. “You know her?”

  “Not privately, but in her capacity as one of Oconodos’s best lawyers.”

  “One of them? Try legendary and the best.” Meija looked dazed. “And you mean I should just call her up and say ‘Korrian Heigel told me to call you,’ just like that?”

  “Yes. When she learns what this is about, I promise you, it will take precedence over all her other work.”

  “I see.” It was clear that Meija doubted Korrian’s certainty in the matter, but she still walked over to the computer and used the communication link.

  Korrian drew the outline of the ship that the Oconodian government had approved of. They wanted each ship to harbor 200,000 people, but taking Meija’s plans and standpoint into consideration, that was impossible. Half as many was a more realistic number, and with space to accommodate new generations taken into consideration. She remembered suddenly something her mother used to say. “When someone tries to tell you that ‘life isn’t just about fun and game,’ that usually means they’ve lost the ability to play, to be joyous.” How was it she had only remembered that just now? Her mother used to say that quite often, and in a way it summed up the point Meija was trying to make. If people weren’t allowed to play, enjoy life, even fight for it, to some extent, what was the use of living? She could hear how Meija had shouted at her earlier that morning. “Merely living isn’t enough!”

  How could she have been blinded so badly by the ones panicking over the Change—the politicians that had wanted the ships as basic as possible to have them ready long before it was doable. She’d been swept away by their reasoning, and now when she understood this, she knew exactly where she needed to start. The two ships in the center of the wheel-like formation would hold the propulsion system, the government facilities, and the military installations. Each ship in the outer circle would have to be a self-contained city with backup systems to make independence possible, should they accidentally be severed.

  She could hear Meija’s voice at their previous meetings, which she’d once viewed as hours of frustration while trying to deal with an unrealistic dreamer. Meija had insisted that the people on the ships would need shops, theaters, gyms, restaurants, coffee shops, bars, game rooms, etcetera, and that those who by default lost their profession, such as farmers, should be given the chance to work in the vast hydroponic bays where most of the oxygen would be produced. The more Korrian remembered from Meija’s lecturing, the more she was impressed, and sheepishly embarrassed, which she would never admit to, of course.

  “You were right.” Meija interrupted Korrian’s thoughts. “And, oh, look…that’s stunning. You’ve improved on that first sketch already. Look at that, will there be—are those trains?” Her exuberance had returned, which made Korrian think Viasan Jigher had accepted her case.

  “And? What did she say?” Korrian looked at Meija’s face, noting the glittering eyes, now shiny for all the right reasons, it seemed. “Meija?” She touched Meija’s arm gently.

  “Yeah. That. Yes, she’ll be here in two days. Her current case is almost over. The jury is supposed to give their verdict within twenty-four hours, and then she’ll shuttle here. Quite eager to dig into this, to quote her. She seems—feisty.”

  “Putting it mildly.” Korrian rested her head in her hand. “You seem to have regained your confidence.”

  “Not entirely. I mean, yes, of course, she was very confident and so on, but I don’t feel better just because this stellar lawyer is on my side…but because you are. For whatever reason you don’t seem to doubt my innocence. Or if you do, you don’t show it.” Meija tilted her head, her disheveled ponytail falling over her shoulder.

  “I know it’s not you.” And suddenly she did, without a doubt. One second before, she might have had a grain of uncertainty, but now, after voicing her confident trust, it was there, cemented.

  “Thank you,” Meija whispered. She looked at Korrian with eyes that seemed to fill her face, shimmering with sudden tears. “That’s q
uite the journey, isn’t it? Going from ‘you foolish, frustrating, idealistic, and unrealistic bitch’ to ‘I know you didn’t try to sabotage and kill innocent people.’”

  “Not really.” Korrian stood and cupped Meija’s shoulder. “Someone who’s frustratingly idealistic would hardly be a callous murderer, would they?”

  “Guess not.” Meija sniffled. “And even more extraordinary is that you seem to embrace some of what I’ve been trying to say. That’s incredible.”

  “Not really.” Korrian smiled at her own repetition. “Common sense.”

  “Hmm. Right.” Meija shuddered. “What time is it?”

  “Actually, it’s getting late. Usually I work till midnight or thereabout, but I think we need to get some rest. Something tells me tomorrow will be another challenging day.”

  “Yes.” Meija looked toward the large view ports overlooking the dock where the spaceship prototype was taking form. “Look. See all those security patrol shuttles? Guess we can sleep reasonably safe tonight.”

  Korrian saw small two-seat shuttles with LEO markings scurry around the dock. “Well, at least there are enough of them to disturb the saboteur. They claim to have swept the entire space-dock for explosives and similar devices. I’m not too impressed with LEO right now, so I hope they’re on top of things.”

  “Yes, me too.”

  “Ready to retire for the evening?” Korrian let go of Meija’s shoulders. She logged her entry into the draw sheet and powered off her laser pen.

  “Yes. Now that you ask, I’m exhausted and sore.”

  “I have some liniment that our old doctor on the dock gave me. It’s rather strong and makes you feel a little woozy, but it really helps.”

  “Sounds great.”

  They walked out of Korrian’s office and took the elevator to deck ten. Several other officers were doing the same, but she wasn’t interested in exchanging “who do you think…” comments. It took her less than ten seconds to notice the way the others looked at Meija. Cold disdain amd unbridled curiosity combined with skepticism radiated from several of them. Korrian shifted, making sure she stood between Meija and the other engineers and mechanics.