by Jim Proctor
When the room was cleared out, he began to push the bin to the door when something shiny caught his eye. On the floor in the corner was a necklace. He picked it up and held it as a lump grew in his throat. The silver had been crafted into beautiful, flowing letters—Rebecca—a gift from her sister, Becca had said. She always wore it, except when working in her pressure suit. In microgravity, the necklace would float up, getting in her face, blocking her vision. It could even float off over her head and become loose, floating around inside her suit. On those occasions, she always hung it on the bedpost. The ship’s gravgen had been off for months while in orbit around Caldon, so it had floated around until he powered up the gravgen again. He stared at it resting in his palm, thinking about Rebecca, and also about Ronnie. She would want this, he knew.
“Let it go, Nolan,” Boo said.
He turned around to find her standing in the doorway. “I can’t—not this.”
“Is it really worth it?” she asked.
He looked at it again, and he knew there was no choice. “Yes, it is,” he said. He slipped the chain over his head and tucked the necklace inside his shirt. “There’s someone on Caldon who will want this, and I’ll risk everything to deliver it.”
She nodded. “I’d try to talk some sense into you, but I guess we all have our own priorities, and some things are too important to play it safe. Oh… and you owe me five hundred credits.”
Nolan smiled. “That’s a bargain.”
“I’m giving you my discount rate,” she said. “Find Carl and make sure he’s safe. Bring him here if he needs to hide out for a while.”
“Thanks, Boo. It’s good of you to be so generous.”
“I have reason to be. You know, Carl didn’t always bring you with him when he came here. He’d come and watch my place while I went into town for a few days. He never asked anything in return, either,” she said. “None of the other salvagers ever did that, not that I would have trusted them.”
“I didn’t know that,” Nolan said.
“When you’re done, come and get me. I’ll be in the electronics shed working on the receiver. I’ll help you haul all the stuff to the incinerator.”
* * * *
It was getting dark when the pair pushed the empty bins back into the hangar.
“It’s time for me to go,” Nolan said.
“It’s been nice having you here. Most of my visitors come in, sell or trade, and then leave.”
“After I find Carl, I’ll stop in for another visit.”
“You’ll be welcome if you do. Be careful,” Boo said. She patted him on the arm, and then walked to the hangar door and began pushing one side back. Nolan walked up the ramp and closed it. As Boo pushed back the other door, she heard the faint whine of the main power converter starting. A moment later, the Griffin rose silently and moved through the opening. Once outside, the ship rose quickly, vanishing into the night sky.
Nolan piloted the Griffin out of Pax’s atmosphere and set a course for open space. One day traveling at sub-light speed would put him far enough from Pax to risk a jump.
* * * *
The Griffin transitioned out of hyperspace near the edge of Harmony’s system. Space traffic here was even more congested than around Caldon, and it was just as tightly controlled. There would be no hyperspace jump within the system to save time. It would take three days to reach Harmony. The ship was spotless inside, and Nolan had never felt so alone. He put a hand to his chest and felt Rebecca’s necklace beneath his shirt. Three more days, and then he’d leave the ship and head home. On the starliner, he’d be surrounded by other passengers. There would be crew members to wait on him. Best of all, he wouldn’t have to run the ship. He could relax, catch up on his sleep, read a book, and eat food prepared in a real kitchen. Three days.
* * * *
Three days. For three days, Nolan had worried about his forged documents. This would be their first official scrutiny, and if they failed, everything would end here.
He had transmitted his request to land more than a day ago when he had come within comm range. Now in high orbit around Harmony, he was still waiting for clearance. Had they entered the Griffin into their traffic control system only to discover there was no such ship? Had his captain’s certificate already been flagged as suspicious? He watched the sensor screen and tracked ships leaving Harmony. So far, they had all left the planet and headed for deep space. But now… this one wasn’t leaving. It was entering high orbit and closing on the Griffin. He quickly entered a course out of orbit and was just reaching for the execute button when his comm unit chimed. He studied the screen with a mixture of relief and fright. Clearance to land had been granted, and he’d been assigned a descent corridor. He transferred the data to his navigation system before checking the position of the ship he’d been tracking. It was passing him about five thousand meters off his port side and accelerating.
This was the final stage of the journey, and there was no more time to consider his options. His landing clearance was for immediate execution, so he accepted the descent corridor and the ship began its controlled fall into Harmony.
It was nearly two hours later when the Griffin touched down gently on its assigned pad. Nolan executed the shutdown routine and waited as, one by one, the ship’s systems powered down. Soon, only the emergency lights were glowing overhead, and the ship was silent. Retrieving his bag from his cabin, he made his way to the ramp.
He stepped out onto the pad at Sherman spaceport, the busiest port on Harmony and one of the busiest in the galaxy. Without a data unit, finding the operations office would be a challenge. There was a building to the east with lights glowing in the windows, so that was where he went. Someone would direct him to the operations office.
The building turned out to be the maintenance facility for the port’s cargo-bots. A technician gave him directions and Nolan set out once again, this time heading south. As he walked, he began to worry again about his documentation. His heart was racing, his breathing shallow and rapid. Reaching the operations office, he stood outside, closed his eyes, and held his breath. This was becoming all too common. After a while, he exhaled. Composing himself, he opened the door and strode confidently to the counter.
A young lady seated behind the counter looked up at him and smiled. “Can I help you?” she asked.
He held out a data chip. “I’d like to rent pad 95A,” he said.
The woman took the chip and slipped it into her data unit. She nodded as she reviewed his documents. “Welcome to Harmony, Captain Grumby. How long will the Griffin be parked here?”
“I don’t know. I have some business to attend to. It may be several months. Will that be a problem?” he asked.
“Oh no, not at all. I just need to know which rate plan you’d like. Our monthly rate for that pad is one hundred credits. It drops to ninety-five credits if you select our three-month plan, or eighty-five for our six-month plan. Of course, those rates are just for pad rental. If you need security monitoring or a power hookup, those are extra.”
“I just need the pad. Let’s go with the three-month plan,” he said as he handed her a payment card. Derick had given him the card, payable through an account at a small bank on Devon-3, and said that nobody would be able to trace it back to Megan’s money. Right now, he just hoped it worked.
“Thank you,” she said as she took the card. “Do you want me to set up automatic monthly payments, or would you like to pay the first three months now?”
“Does it make any difference?” he asked.
“If I set it up for automatic monthly payments, the rental agreement will automatically extend for another three months if you don’t get back here before then. If you pay it all in advance, then it’s a one-time debit and you will have to contact us in three months to extend the rental and make the next payment at that time,” she said.
“Let’s go with the automatic monthly payment, then,” he said.
“Here you are,” she said as she handed him his p
ayment card. “You’re all set.”
* * * *
Nolan arrived at the commercial terminal and checked the departure board. The next starliner to Caldon would depart in the morning. That would be about eight days since he left Caldon. It would take three days to the edge of the system, several hyperspace jumps, and three more days to Caldon. He’d arrive back at Dawson two weeks after he had left, just as they had planned.
He was getting nervous again. The transaction at the operations office was simple. This next step could go badly. If his passport in the name of Jonas Grumby didn’t pass inspection, he’d be in serious trouble. You are Jonas Grumby, he told himself. Your passport is in perfect order. Everything will go exactly as planned.
He stepped up to the ticket counter and handed the agent his passport. “One way to Caldon, tourist class, please,” he said.
The agent scanned his passport and consulted her data unit. “I’m sorry, sir, but there is a slight problem.”
For a moment, he considered running, but where would he go? The agent would certainly notify port security, and they would be looking for him at every gate. This was it. This was where it all fell apart. He’d be in a SACOM cell within hours.
Chapter 11
Ethan sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee while Miguel prepared breakfast. The smell was delightful, and he wondered how long it would take to reach Megan’s room. As if in response to his thought, she walked into the kitchen and joined him at the table. “Miguel, that smells wonderful,” she said.
“You look like a changed woman,” Ethan said over the top of his coffee cup.
“What do you mean?” she asked, turning to him suddenly.
“I mean, the week you have spent here has done wonders for you.”
The corners of her mouth turned up just a bit as she tried to hold back her smile. “It has. I feel… I don’t know… like I’ve been recharged or something. Since John passed away, I’ve been throwing myself into my work to keep busy. I guess I pushed myself too hard. I only began to notice it when I took a few days off to care for Nolan. After a week here, I see it clearly. That was my life, but I don’t miss it at all. The only thing I do miss is Nolan. Isn’t that odd? I mean, I hadn’t seen him since the funeral a few months ago. I spent a few days with him, and then I came here alone. As wonderful as this place is, and as much as I enjoy your company, I miss Nolan.”
Ethan put down his cup and looked at her. She could see that he now was holding back a smile.
“What is that look for?” she asked, her own smile broadening.
“Nothing,” he said. “So, what will it be today? Are we going to continue your equestrian training? I think I can fix all the flaws in your form and technique before you leave.”
Her smile vanished. She hadn’t thought about leaving since her first day here. Two weeks had seemed such a long time then. Now, she realized her visit was more than half over. If she pushed herself, she knew she could make the flight home in a day. She also knew it would be a lot safer to spread the trip over two days. If she was to meet Nolan when he returned, she had just five days left here.
Mistaking her change of expression, he said, “I’m just teasing you. Your equestrian skills have improved dramatically over the past week.”
“Oh, it wasn’t that,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I know I need work. You reminded me that I can’t stay here forever. It’s been wonderful and, as you said, it’s changed me. I don’t want it to end, but I know it has to. I have to go back to my life.”
Ethan shook his head. “I’ll let you in on a secret that I didn’t learn until I was long past your age. Your life is wherever you are if you are living it, and it’s somewhere else if you aren’t.”
“So I should be living here,” she said with a laugh.
“I’m just saying, if one week here has done so much good for you, maybe you need to reconsider your life back in Dawson. Are you living, or are you existing?”
“Breakfast is ready,” Miguel said as he put two plates on the table. “Enjoy.”
“Join us, please,” Megan said, pulling her eyes away from the food to look imploringly at Miguel.
He smiled and said, “Perhaps another time, another meal. I sense that you two have important matters to discuss.” Turning, he went back to the stove where he served another plate and then carried it out of the kitchen.
“What do you suggest?” she asked, turning her attention back to Ethan.
“I would suggest that you ease up on the reins just a bit and let the horse have a little more freedom,” he said.
“I wasn’t talking about my equestrian skills, and you know it,” she said with a smile.
He nodded. “It was a metaphor. Oh, I guess there may be some folks who keep the reins tight and force a life in a certain direction. But I think life is where you find it when you let it run free a bit. Life is what you make as well as what it makes of you. It’s more about who you want to be and who you want to be with.”
She shook a finger at him. “Nolan and I are friends.”
He smiled. “I didn’t mention him—you did.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. He had simply raised the issue of whom she wanted to be with, and Nolan was the first person she had thought of. As she wondered what to say next, she thought that Ethan wore a knowing expression, as though he were reading her thoughts. She felt exposed and vulnerable. “So, will we ride again after breakfast?” she asked.
“Maybe a bit later in the morning. I have some business to attend to. We can ride around eleven. I know just where we’ll go,” he said.
“Is there something I can do to help out around here until then?” she asked.
“Well, if you’re looking for something to do, Kaleb is mucking out the stalls in the stable. I’m sure he would appreciate some help,” Ethan said.
“Mucking out… that would be…”
“Shoveling out their leavings and spreading fresh straw bedding,” he said. “There’s a lot more to owning horses than just riding them.”
“Yes, I imagine there is,” she said. She nodded and went on, “I’d be glad to help Kaleb. I’ll go and find him right after breakfast.”
Ethan smiled. “Good. You’re going to have to learn all about horses if you’re going to take care of your own someday.”
“I can’t imagine ever owning my own horse,” she said. “Not in Dawson.”
Ethan smiled, but he said nothing.
* * * *
Megan walked through the stable, looking for Kaleb. The air was warm, filled with a scent that was pungent, yet almost sweet, like fermenting grains. A week ago, she would have wrinkled her nose at the smell. Now, it seemed natural.
When she reached the far end without finding him, she guessed that he had already finished and moved on to something else. She smiled as she turned and headed back along the row of stalls toward the back door.
“Ah, there you are!” Kaleb shouted. “The boss said you would be helping me today.”
She stopped and turned around. Kaleb was pushing a wheelbarrow filled with tools along toward her. “Ethan told you I’d be helping you?” she asked.
“Yes, last night. He said you wanted to learn all about caring for horses.”
She smiled, knowing she had been set up. She wondered how Ethan would have maneuvered her out here if she hadn’t offered. It didn’t matter. “Yes, of course. I want to know all about caring for horses.”
“We’ll start with your horse’s stall,” Kaleb said as he pushed the barrow past her.
“What do you mean by my horse?” she asked.
“Ginger. The boss said… Didn’t he tell you?” Kaleb asked.
“Tell me what?”
“Oh, well… it’s better you hear it from the boss, I think. It’s not my place to interfere. I mean, maybe he changed his mind since last night.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Never mind. It’s nothing. My mind is slipping. I babbl
e on, not knowing what I'm saying half the time,” he said.
“Fine. Keep your secret. Show me how to muck out a stall,” she said.
Kaleb reached Ginger’s stall and opened the gate. “Grab a lead from the hook over there and take Ginger out to the paddock. She can have some fresh air while we work.”
Megan grabbed a lead and slipped it around Ginger’s neck. The horse pressed her huge muzzle into Megan’s neck, and she responded by wrapping an arm around Ginger’s head and rubbing her cheek. “That’s my girl,” she said in a soothing voice. “I love you, too.”
Kaleb smiled and nodded.
Megan led the horse to the paddock and removed the lead. When she returned to the stall, she expected to find Kaleb hard at work. Instead, he was standing there, looking at her expectantly. “What do I do?” she asked.
“First, I want you to position the wheelbarrow in the doorway of the stall. Then, take the pitchfork… no, that’s the shovel. The pitchfork is the one that looks like an overgrown fork. Yes, that’s it. Now, I want you to use the pitchfork to clear a small area by the door. Just throw the straw to the middle.” He watched as she cleared a spot. “Good. Now, use the broom to finish. You want a clean spot there so you won’t keep stepping in… you won’t make a mess that will be harder to clean.” When she had swept an area clean, he went on, “Okay, use the pitchfork and throw any clean straw up against the walls.”
“How do I know which straw is clean?” she asked.
Kaleb stared at her for a moment, wondering if she was serious. “Um… I think you’ll figure it out as you go.”