by Chris Hechtl
Isley was heartily sick and tired of hearing about politics and wanted out, off the planet if possible. She'd realized the previous year that the Irons family was being marginalized; either they were being brushed aside or they were being locked out of the good assignments. Adam pointed that issue out again as the meeting started. “There are so many of you and nepotism is a real concern,” Adam Irons quoted angrily. “We need to keep the position open for other people with fresh experience,” he air quoted.
“Which is true. There are only so many jobs on the planet to go around, Adam,” Jeremy Irons reminded him. “Unless you create your own by starting a new community or business,” he said.
“Which you need money to do,” Adam said. He practically sneered. The family had made it clear they wouldn't bankroll the various start-ups he'd pitched to them over the years. The last one he'd tried by wheedling it out of granddad Irons. His grandfather … his grandfather of all people had told him to look into getting a start-up loan. Like he didn't trust him, he thought with burning resentment. It was unfair. He opened his mouth to say something, but Opal was already talking.
“… is only so much one can do. Market saturation is pretty high. Coming up with something from nothing … even the service industry is saturated. You are competing with the old sweats who push you out or the new kids coming out of the schools,” she said, indicating the kids at their feet with a flick of her fingers.
Other family members recognized that was a serious problem Isley realized as she looked up at the suddenly grim faces around them. It wasn't her fault, that wasn't right. She almost forgot her standing order to listen and not interject her comments.
“What are we going to do about them? It's not just our generation but the next?” Ellen asked softly. Aunt Ellen was one of Isley's favorite aunts. She was a hands-on kind of gal, just like all the Irons. But she made no bones about drafting someone, even a “sprout” into helping her with some project around the compound that needed fixing or upgrading. Isley had learned a lot in the past year about plumbing and electrical work.
“Some of the family have gone on to become engineers on sublight ships. But even that's changing,” Jeremy said.
“They could follow you, Sydney and others into research I suppose,” Opal said, crossing her arms. “I mean, it's a thought.”
“There is always teaching too,” Sydney suggested. She winced when Mario scowled. Too late she remembered his repeated acidic statement that those that do, did. Those that couldn't taught.
Isley resented that. She was a student, the idea of being stuck in a classroom the rest of her life … gah. Pass, she thought. She wanted something bigger. Something brighter. “There has to be something for us, something more. I know we're not big on research and stuff but …” She shook her head, then remembered the injunction to be quiet.
Her father eyed her with scant favor. Before he could say anything, Mario waved a hand. “Let the kids talk. They are the future. It's their future we're talking about, right? So, what do they want to do with it?” He asked.
Jeremy paused and then frowned thoughtfully. After a moment he nodded to Isley.
Isley gulped and then stood. “I want more. More than Mars. I don't want to be stuck in a classroom,” she said wrinkling her nose. “Or behind a desk drawing stuff. I want to be there, seeing new things. I want to get my hands dirty doing it,” she said, glancing at Aunt Ellen. The older woman gave her a thumbs-up. “We're Irons, I want to make it happen, not watch others do it.”
“That's not true young lady and you know it. But we do err on the side of making an idea work. Translating the theory into reality,” Sydney Irons said in rebuke. Isley hung her head a bit. She understood the girl; she wanted desperately to step out of the family's shadow. Well, to do that she'd have to go big. She'd have to … she frowned and then nodded slowly. She'd have to go interstellar. She turned her head to look at some of the other adults. Elderly Mario Irons nodded in understanding. He of all people instantly understood she realized.
The Irons family had been involved in hyperdrive research since its inception. They had also been involved in the design of most of the inner system tugs and sublight ships and stations throughout the solar system. Adam Irons scowled bleakly. He was the family black sheep; everyone had them it seemed. In his case he was a bit of a slacker, moving from one project to the next, never settling down. The same could be said of his love life, he never settled. He'd had some spectacular break ups when he'd neglected to let one partner know he'd moved on. “I think we're a victim of our own success. We see a project and dig in. People know that. That's why a lot of us get hired, for that reputation of digging in and getting it done. Sometimes we fail. That's human, and to be expected, though others see it as not living up to expectations. It's bull.”
“But you did it here on Mars, Gramps,” little four-year-old Amelia reminded the elderly Mario. Personally she was amazed the old patriarch was still alive. He'd outlived his brother Luigi, both of their spouses, and one of his own children and two grandchildren. This despite getting an unhealthy dose of radiation in the initial colonization phases of the planet. He'd survived testicle, skin and prostate cancer; he'd had his liver, bladder, and kidneys each replaced twice, one lung, part of his trachea, cataracts, had two bone marrow transplants, and was checked every three months for aggressive tumors that occasionally popped up on his heart, skin, and in his brain. But despite all that he was still lively and spry. It was a testament not just to the advances in geriatric medicine and cloning technology but also to the human spirit and will to survive.
He looked over to her and tugged on a wrinkled earlobe thoughtfully. “True, but a lot of factors were involved there,” his gravel voice said. His eyes were a bit cloudy, but there was kind wisdom there in the recesses.
“What bothers me is when they get us in on the ground floor or when they run into problems, pick our brains, then kick us to the curb,” Adam grumbled. “I've had that happen to me twice.” He looked away, thoroughly disgusted.
“That's because you take those consult jobs dummy. You should invest what you've got into a project and stick with it,” Sydney retorted. Opal nodded.
“Like what?” Adam demanded. “All the good stuff is taken,” he grumbled, now disgusted with them all. “Or too expensive. We're high risk investment too. I can't get a loan,” he said, shaking his head. “And the family won't give me one,” he growled darkly.
“Quit whining,” Mario muttered. “There are ways to get around any problem. Over, under, through. Luigi was great at that,” he said, then closed his eyes and leaned back to relax. He fought the urge to go down memory lane, the trap of missing his brother and family. God he missed them.
“I think we need to take a break for a bit,” Sydney Irons said, looking at her father-in-law knowing the signs. Other adults nodded as they got up or stretched. Isley bit her lip, looking at her gramps. Amelia hugged him, and he patted her arm and softly told her he was okay. Isley nodded in relief.
“The problem with wanting glory is it's blinding. I don't think either of the Mario brothers were focused on that when they came here to Mars,” Sydney said slowly. She glanced at the old patriarch as he stared off into space, lost in his memories. He was doing that increasingly more and more as his body slowed down. It bothered her. Her own father and grandparents hadn't lived as long as Mario had so advanced geriatric care wasn't something she was familiar with. She made a note to look into it. She made another note to keep Mario in the loop. He seemed to focus more when his experience was drawn on.
“No, no they didn't,” Adam admitted. He frowned. He had to admit he had been interested in glory, in the shortcut. Mario had tried to warn him that he couldn't trade on the family name; he had to earn respect on his own as an individual. Now he was struggling to deal with his own reputation. He shook his head. “I think they saw it not really as a great adventure, but as a problem that needed a resolution. They saw it,” he smiled a bit, “from an engineer's
perspective.”
“You mean an engineering problem that could be solved. Yes, they did that,” Opal murmured thoughtfully. “Luigi was great with people and theory. Mario was the hands-on man. I know that frustrates him now,” she said, indicating Mario. Sydney looked over to Opal and then nodded.
“You kids need to find your own paths. We're going to help, but it's too … easy for us to try to steer you in a direction we think is right. It's natural. Sometimes it's a safe occupation but …” Ellen shrugged. “Sometimes not.”
“True, miss fusion reactor tech,” Opal teased.
“That's assistant power chief now,” Ellen said with a slight smile. Opal's eyes widened as Ellen grinned. “I passed the tests last month. It doesn't become official until Asura transfers to the plant on Deimos.”
“Wow. She got a promotion?” Opal asked.
Ellen nodded. “An overdue one, but not in-house. She was hired by Lagroose Industries. I think she wants to get to their Mars skyhook, but I don't know if she'll make it.”
“Maybe,” Opal mused. “If she can hack it …” she shrugged, setting the thought aside. She made a note to send Asura Smythe Tennison a congratulations letter. She wondered how Bill and Fargo were going to handle it. Would they move with Asura to Deimos? Or would she commute? She was curious. Fargo was a bright kid, borderline autistic, which was a concern. The Tennisons hadn't screened for that when Fargo had been conceived; fortunately they'd skated by, just under the threshold when he'd been tested. It was frightening though. Today's generation of kids were incredibly intelligent. Gifted, beyond anything an ordinary parent from years ago would think was possible.
“We're not really suited for the terraforming projects,” Adam murmured.
“We're Irons, we can do anything we put our minds too,” Ellen said. He looked her way. “Okay, I admit, I'm not at all interested in terraforming myself. The mechanics …” she shrugged. “Maybe. But the Mars government banned nanotech and some of the harsher methods of terraforming, so it's down to bioengineering plants and animals while working on other means.”
“I'd love to move a comet or asteroid,” Adam said.
“You mean you'd love to see it hit,” Opal teased. He shrugged. Jeremy, Sydney's husband, grinned. She eyed him as well. “Men,” she said in disgust, shaking her head as she eyed her fellow ladies. “Not far from the fire and throwing rock level of evolution even now,” she said in mock disgust.
“Oh, I don't know,” Ellen replied, playing with her lower lip. “I wouldn't mind seeing it myself.” Opal shot her a wide eyed “et tu” look that made her chuckle. “Seriously. I saw the first one Luigi managed to do, and the follow-ups they did later on.”
“And you want in on that when they hit Venus?”
“No, that's not going to happen. The rocks are already in motion. The first hit a decade ago, remember? No, pass.” There were several hundred rocks of many sizes lined up to hit Venus over the next fifty years. Each was on a course to hit the planet to help move it from its current orbit outward just as the ones that had hit Mars had been carefully plotted out to move the planet's orbit further inward, closer to the sun. There was quite the scandal from people on Earth who were terrified of a mistake that would put Venus and Earth on a collision course. Since Mars hadn't hit Earth, they didn't have much to worry about in Ellen's opinion.
Mars was shaping up to be a nice place to live. Not quite Earth, at least not yet, but getting there. When it did get to the loose water stage, things would happen quickly. Another two decades and the terraforming board assured the public that it would happen. When it did their home world would turn into a gorgeous paradise.
“Then …”
“Well, Europa is off limits, Titan's a mess of politics and jurisdiction; I'm not sure,” Ellen said.
“You'd give up your career … your advancing career …” Sydney looked at her.
Ellen waved that thought aside. “No, I said I wouldn't mind seeing it.”
“Well, I for one wouldn't mind having a hand in doing it,” Adam said.
“Well, you could always apply to Lagroose or one of the other outfits. They are eventually going to need terraformers,” Sydney said. “When we go interstellar.”
“Which will be in a century from now,” Adam said in disgust. “I'll look like him when they are ready,” he said.
“Oh, I wouldn't bet on that,” Sydney said, shooting her husband a smile. He chuckled.
Adam eyed them both as Opal got up to deal with an issue with the kids. “What aren't you telling us?” he asked.
“Just that … it might be smart to take a long hard look at Lagroose. And maybe get your foot in the door, even if you have to start at the bottom as a tech.”
“That … is interesting to know,” Ellen murmured thoughtfully. Sydney turned to stare at her. Ellen shrugged. “Hey, I'm interested in seeing the stars too. And like I said, the idea of seeing a rock hit …”
Jeremy nodded. “You might get your chance. We all might,” he rumbled.
-*-*-^-*-*-
The kids talked after the meeting as they did their chores and got ready for bed. They filled in some of the cousins who'd missed the meeting … really there wasn't much to tell. But the gossip was something to talk about. When they were done, Amelia, Isley, and Reno all fell on the kitchen and the last of their assigned chores.
Amelia was still too young and short to unload the dishwashers so Sydney had assigned that part of the task to Reno and Isley since they were taller. Amelia had to fill the machines since she could easily reach into the sink with a handy step stool. She had also figured out the controls after Isley had shown her so she could turn the ultrasonic machines on.
Isley had no problem with the assignment; she'd had her time handling the dirty dishes up until a year ago. She'd hated it until Aunt Ellen had told her it was a lesson. She'd wondered about it until Ellen had clued her in by getting her hands filthy tearing down a grungy air plant and not complaining about it. That had driven the point home enough to stop her from complaining. And she'd found, once she'd accepted the task she'd done it for a while before they'd given her more responsibility.
“It's not fair that I have to load the dishwashers,” Amelia grumbled. Reno tugged one of her pigtails in response to the whining. She turned and kicked him in the shin. Isley tisked tisked as Reno chased her out. At least it got her out of her hair long enough for Isley to clear the lower level of two of the three machines. Honestly, having them all lined up in a row and having three kids on them was stupid. They were tripping over themselves trying to get the machines loaded and unloaded.
Reno came back with Amelia under one arm. He set her down after swatting her bum and then steered her back to work. She scowled, but then snuffled and looked at Isley. Isley snorted in lordly disdain. “Don't look at me. I'm busy. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we get to go play,” she said.
“Yeah, a whole hour until we have to get ready for bed,” Amelia muttered.
“It's better than a half hour,” Reno reminded her, swinging back into action. He took the plates Isley had thoughtfully stacked in front of the cabinet they were supposed to go into and put them away. Isley nodded and kept moving. Once she had the last lower deck done she straightened and then moved on to the uppers. The uppers were easier, just cups.
“What are we going to do?” Amelia asked thoughtfully. “I mean, career wise. I've already decided I want to get into medicine. What about you two?” She asked, looking from Reno to Isley.
“You are pretty young to figure that out so quickly,” Reno said, sounding like he didn't believe her. She glowered at him. He spread his hands. “Just saying. Remember how you change your mind about ice cream?”
She snorted. “This is different,” she said. “And it's not like we can't change our minds like you said. Even when we have a career going, no one said we can't stop learning and exploring other things! Look at Uncle Adam! Or Aunt Ellen! Or my mom!”
“True,” Isley muse
d, taking little Amelia's thoughts at face value. She didn't like how Uncle Adam was being compared to Aunt Ellen, but they were siblings. They had to have something in common after all.
“I want to help people. Make them well. I'm not sure what sub-field, but the idea of being a doctor like great-great-auntie Han.”
“She's not really our aunt. She's not related to us by blood,” Isley said.
“I know that,” Amelia said testily as they finished with the first machine. “I don't think we have enough for a full load on the third machine,” she warned.
“Cool,” Reno said.
“What about you? What are you going to get into?” Amelia asked, eying the sturdy ten-year-old male. Reno had black hair and yellow eyes. The eye color was due to some random gene swap, or so Reno said. “Engineer, medic …”
“Not a whole lot of options there,” Reno said. “I'm going my own way. I'm looking into being an interior designer. I thought about an architect, but …” He shrugged.
“An …” Amelia sputtered, doubling over with hilarity as she covered her mouth with a tiny hand. “You can't be serious!” she giggled.
“Go on with you,” Reno growled, pushing her onto her rump. She fell, then rolled, kicking her feet in the air laughing. “It's not funny!” he raged.
“It's fine, Reno, whatever you want to do. At least it's different.”
“You know, some of us were scientists at one time. Great granny Betsy. Wanda too. We can do other things if we put our minds to it,” Reno said hotly.
“I get it, power down,” Isley said, one hand up to restrain her cousin. He glowered at the still snickering Amelia as she got to her feet. “Something tells me it's not the entire picture though,” she said. He looked at her. She spread her hands. “Somehow I haven't seen you arranging furniture or researching fung shui techniques,” she said mildly.