Girl on the Moon
Page 33
But she couldn’t be sure. Of anything.
The China-Russia war had its first exchanges of nuclear missiles. Did that mean events were playing out the way Murrdip Hangzhii had predicted they would? Like Bowman implied they would? Or did the awful government in Beijing simply attack a traditional rival and enemy because it could afford to with nitrogen powering their country?
Conn didn’t know if the Pelorians were friends of humanity or not. She didn’t know if humans and Pelorians could peacefully coexist, if the Pelorians even wanted to, or if the United States even wanted to. Well, OK, that, Conn had a good idea about. Most were in favor of the war that America was supposedly fighting with the Pelorians.
Conn spent days after the incident at NewsAmerica waiting for federal agents to come get her. After a while, she figured that she had been discredited enough that they didn’t worry about her anymore.
There was one positive development: when Conn had told of how she was detained without charge for weeks, the feeds went to work verifying her and exposing other, similar cases. Public opinion favored the war, but was contentiously split on detention without charge—the supposed suspension of the writ of habeas corpus. A civil rights group wanted Conn to join their lawsuit against the federal government, alleging that the president or Congress only had the power to suspend the writ in cases of rebellion or insurrection, neither of which was happening. She wasn’t interested. She was, however, happy to read that Warden Kohler had been fired: that meant she wasn’t disappeared anymore.
When it came to the Aphelials, Conn wanted answers. There were still so many questions. Were they relatives? Ancestors? Did they mean humankind harm? Were they pursuing the Pelorians to seek justice or commit genocide? More than that, she couldn’t stop thinking about the Murrdip Hangzhii’s “gravity bursts,” the manipulation of the force of gravity. Technology like that could launch rockets without fossil fuels, power spacecraft, make the moon and Mars more like Earth, gravity-wise. There were more applications than even Conn could imagine. She smiled to herself when she realized that she was still an engineer at heart.
Laura Haskell-Lefebvre wanted Conn back at the company. Employees and executives apparently were adamant that she was important to have around. They needed a new head of the division that made and sold the SafeTfields, and many people, Jody included, thought it would be perfect for Conn. Concentrating on T-fields would also keep her away from Laura, which might turn out to be a good thing for them both. Conn said she would think about coming back. And she did think about it.
She kept coming back to how the company wasn’t sure what to do with its successful fifth-dimension-traveling spacecraft prototype. Where was there to go? What did they need that this technology delivered? It could make the journey to the moon and Mars a snap, but what was there on the moon or Mars that could do Dyna-Tech any good? That was their mindset—or at least the people running the place. Conn didn’t have to be a Dyna-Tech insider to know Skylar Reece was calling the shots.
Her friends at the company told her and Laura what they needed in person, in e-mails, and in v-mails: they needed Conn back if they couldn’t have Peo. Someone to tell the company Let’s do this bold thing. Because we can.
But coming back as the head of the SafeTfields division wouldn’t put Conn in a position to move the company to do things, and Laura wouldn’t let her near a position that would.
Conn supposed she could go back and work her way up. She had always thought that that’s how she should have done it in the first place. But Peo had trusted her. Loved her. And Conn had given Peo’s company away, to the worst recipient imaginable.
“I did it for the company,” she told Pritam, who wasn’t avoiding her anymore. “I did it to get everybody back to work and paid. If I hadn’t, they wouldn’t have finished the fifth-dimensional prototype. Who knows what that Aphelial really had in mind for me and Grant?” Pritam nodded sagely.
It was good to talk to somebody. She almost never talked about her troubles with Yongpo. They shared so many experiences, they didn’t have to remind one another about them. To Conn, losing the company, being arrested, having nothing were all part of the same adventure that sent her to the moon in the first place. Maybe they were the inevitable result of someone handing you exactly what you wanted.
She blamed herself for the country having been pro-Pelorian for so long. If they really did plan to take Russia from China and nuke the United States, that would be partially on her head because she hadn’t realized what monsters the Pelorians could be.
She was discredited, guilty. No company, no close friends or family. There was nothing tying her down, keeping her from doing...anything.
# # #
Grant. She should stick around to make sure he came out OK. But he would be in the hospital for a long time. They were convinced he would live, thanks to her and Yongpo, but he needed a great deal of work.
And so did she. She had wondered whether Grant was the answer to the question: is there anyone in the world who cares about me unconditionally? When there’s nothing in it for them? But she knew now that was the wrong question. The real question was, is there anyone in the world I care about unconditionally? When there’s nothing in it for me? When she worked so hard to rescue Grant it sure felt like...deep, unconditional affection. Maybe he was the answer.
She had no idea what to do about it, though. Penniless, a convict, a Pelorian tool—she had nothing. Love me back, she thought. You’ll get...nothing. She frowned. She imagined what it would be like, opening your door and there she is, confessing her love to you. Nobody deserved that sad spectacle. Least of all Grant.
But: nothing? She wasn’t nothing.
Grant didn’t think she was nothing.
She went to see him. He was in a Houston hospital. She winced when she thought of the Gs he had to endure on re-entry. They were mostly keeping him unconscious for the beginning, hardest, trickiest part of his recovery. That was all right, she could do without an audience anyway.
She entered his room. Intensive care. Monitors glowed and beeped. The antiseptic smell almost overwhelmed her. Peo’s room hadn’t smelled like that.
Her heart was thumping, and she tried to settle herself down and get what she had to say to him out. Once it was out, once it was no longer in her, it would be easier to leave. She thought. Now she thought twice.
As she was thinking, a nurse bustled into the room and barked something about it being time to wake him up. Conn thought about making a run for it. Instead she sidled closer to the bed and took his hand in hers. That was noncommittal, right? Good friends did that.
The nurse removed an IV bag, and Grant groggily bobbed to the surface. Conn smiled at him, and hoped she didn’t look like a psycho.
“Hey,” he said. Conn barely heard him.
“Hey.” She was at a loss. Did she still say what she came there to say? Did she come back later, when he was unconscious again?
Did she just say screw the whole thing and leave?
“I asked them...I wanted them... ”
“Easy, big guy.”
“I asked them to wake me up if you came by. And you’re here.”
Another gesture by Grant that put her paltry efforts to shame. She smiled again. She realized she still had his hand. She carefully put it down, and withdrew hers.
“I just came by—” she began. She swallowed. Her voice sounded dry and distant. “I just came by to tell you—um.”
She looked up, and around, stalling. Grant just lay there, looking at her through heavy-lidded eyes. She supposed he couldn’t do much else.
“I’m leaving,” she said. “For a while.” This was the small talk, right? She’d muster the courage yet.
Grant’s expression didn’t change, but he probably couldn’t change it, anyway. “Do you...have to go?”
Conn nodded, vigorously. “Yep,” she said. “That’s why I’m going. I have to.”
“Chances are...I’ll be right here when you get back.”
“I may be here for a while.”
She looked around. She should have gotten him flowers, or something. But with what? Yongpo’s money?
“Anyway,” she said. “I just wanted to tell you that.” Her heart was pumping hard enough to make her teeth rattle.
“OK.”
“I’ll be back,” she said.
“And you’ll tell me all about it.”
“Everything.” She stammered. “I wish you could go,” she blurted. “With me. With us.”
Grant smiled, just a little. “Maybe next time.”
“Maybe.”
She smiled and then her feet were backing her up the first couple steps toward the door. She realized what she was doing, chuckled nervously. She waved at him, thinking how stupid she must look. She turned to go.
“Conn?” He was making himself heard across the room, probably with great effort.
She stopped, but didn’t look back.
“I’ll be right here when you get back,” he said. She left.
# # #
The hardest part was talking Yongpo into it. But the man had defected from China. He had an adventurous spirit Conn could tap into. And he wanted many of the same answers she did.
They made arrangements. Among them were his borrowing the fifth-dimensional prototype—the company certainly wasn’t using it.
They boarded with a large kitbag each. Everything they truly needed fit inside. They had food enough for a long journey, and a full water tank this time. Conn couldn’t manage enough medication for all of a long trip, but she would be with somebody supportive, who understood, and would help her stay as level as possible.
Yongpo wondered if anyone in the company would even realize the spacecraft was gone. The fact that he wondered that made them both sad. It truly wasn’t Peo’s company anymore.
They got over it enough to set a forty-nine-week course (on their fourteenth try) for Mizar and Alcor, home system of the Aphelials, eighty-three light years distant.
Off they went, not knowing what they would find, not even knowing if they would be able to return. They went because the future of the human race might depend on what they learned. But they also did this bold thing because they could.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Without Leah, most good things would be missing from my life, certainly including this novel. I’ve done so many things I wouldn’t otherwise have done without her. I owe so much to her love and encouragement. This is hers, too.
I’m grateful to everyone else who encouraged me to write and finish this manuscript, and I’m especially indebted to several beta readers, and those who read and critiqued the story Lost Moon, which was sort of the springboard for all this. They all had tons of valuable feedback and suggestions to improve the story and the novel. And Lost Moon: a Girl on the Moon Story is available in the Kindle Store and on Kindle Unlimited.
My Google+ friends as a whole were unbelievably supportive, particularly as the novel was being considered for publication by Kindle Press. I owe a debt to everybody who “nominated” the book during its Kindle Scout campaign, and a double debt to everybody who encouraged others to do so.
Kelley Eskridge at Sterling Editing line-edited the manuscript, and made it better by orders of magnitude. And she didn’t just catch me a fish, she taught me about narrative time and narrative grammar and how often I get reckless with them in first drafts. I’m a better author now because of her hard work and patience.
After I was done mangling Kelley’s work, Ty Johnson line-edited the manuscript for Kindle Scout, and he had a couple really great developmental ideas that improved the book. He also got me to stop using the word “presently” so much. I’m equally grateful for his attention and suggestions.
My parents always knew I had it in me, and I’ve been blessed to have their support and love. I miss my mom. She would have been proud.