Reckless Rescue (a barren planet romance)

by Rinelle Grey

  He couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t worth endangering their lives for the small chance they could make it into space. He had to accept it.

  They’d failed.

  He sighed heavily and cut the booster. He used the thrusters to alter the Hylista’s angle, and hovered at their current height. “Do you want to see the village?” he asked Marlee. His mind was blank. It refused to take in the fact that they hadn’t made it.

  Marlee pushed herself up and craned her neck to see out the front view screen. Below them, the forest ended, and the fields stretched towards the village. It was such a small speck in the middle of a vast nothingness.

  Marlee stared in awe. “It’s so tiny.”

  “Do you want to land there?” he asked. At least if the Hylista was close to the village, they would always have a refuge in case they needed it. And he could keep the ship maintained. He didn’t want it to get overgrown like the Tenacity had.

  “You can do that?” Marlee asked.

  Tyris shrugged. “The only thing that’s malfunctioning is the rocket engines. I can fly us anywhere on the planet.”

  Marlee nodded. She didn’t say anything, just looked at him sideways, her expression worried.

  He passed low over the village then set the Hylista down next to the Tenacity. The larger ship dwarfed his, but size really wasn’t a good indicator of worth. He gave a short laugh. Size had nothing to do with it. Both ships were useless now. The Tenacity would never make it to the Colonies, and the Hylista wasn’t useful as anything other than a glorified taxi.

  “Are you okay?” Marlee asked quietly. She put a hand on his arm.

  Tyris shrugged. What could he say?

  He released his seatbelt and as an afterthought, he keyed in security coded access. He didn’t want anyone to mess with the Hylista. Not Nerris, not Nelor, not the council.

  Marlee fumbled with her own harness then once she was free, she threw her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, Tyris.”

  He held her tightly. Then took a deep breath. It wasn’t over yet. He may not have been able to get into orbit, but perhaps he’d proved something to the council. The Hylista worked, all except for the booster engines. Maybe they would reconsider their decision? Or, if he could get enough people to side with him, they’d have to agree.

  “We’ll work something out.” He took Marlee’s hand, and together they stepped down the stairs, the automatic door closing behind them as they walked across the fields.

  A crowd of people came running from the village, and in moments they were surrounded.

  Beren clapped him on the back. “You did it! I knew you could.”

  “It flies!” Jaimma hugged Marlee. “You’re going to get out of here!”

  Little kids jumped up and down around them, eyes bright.

  Nelor shook his hand, jealously in his expression. “Don’t forget to come back for us!”

  Tyris’s attention was claimed by the council, who walked across the field at a measured pace, their expressions grim.

  The group fell silent as they approached, other faces registering confusion at the council’s expressions. They didn’t understand the council’s disapproval any more than he did.

  “Did you fix it?” Nerris asked.

  All eyes turned to Tyris. No one said a word.

  He sighed. “No. It won’t break orbit.”

  “But you flew here? What do you mean it won’t work?” Rejan asked.

  “The anysogen engine that’s used for long distance and in atmosphere flight still works. It’s the rocket boosters that are damaged, and they’re what allows me to escape the planet’s gravitational pull.”

  There was a long silence.

  “There is one other way…” Tyris said.

  Nerris frowned a warning at him.

  Tyris ignored it.

  “The Hylista’s rocket boosters were damaged, but the ones on the Tenacity should work. There is a possibility that if I used the parts from the old ship, I could break orbit. Then my ship could make it back to the Colonies. The anysogen engine still works.”

  All eyes turned to Nerris.

  He shook his head. “It’s a novel plan, but it won’t work. You can’t get the stability you need with one large rocket booster. It will fail, just like this plan failed, and we’ll be left with two useless ships.”

  Everyone sighed. Tyris looked around him for signs of disbelief, anger, injustice, anything. But there were none. Only disappointment.

  Then Weiss caught his eye. The man watched Nerris, eyes narrowed. “I say we should listen to the boy’s plan. If it has any chance of success, we should give it a try. Anything is better than being stuck on this planet forever.”

  “Weiss!” Yasmyn said sharply. “Are you an engineer? Do you know anything about spaceships?”

  “I don’t, but Tyris obviously does,” Weiss returned. “He thinks this plan has a chance of success.”

  He may not like the man, but right now, Tyris welcomed any support. Weiss had some pull with the villagers. If he backed Tyris, others might just listen.

  Yasmyn turned to the crowd. “When the Colonies left us on Semala with no way off, Nerris took a lot of chances. He repaired a spaceship that wasn’t operational, had never been operational. He did that against all odds. Don’t you think he would take this chance too, if he thought it had any possibility of success?”

  Weiss folded his arms, frowning, but he didn’t bother to argue. The villagers nodded. There were murmurs of agreement.

  How could he ever hope to compete with the trust the villagers had in Nerris? Everything Yasmyn said was true. Nerris had taken a big chance, and he’d managed to save them from certain death. Why would the villagers trust his word over Nerris’s?

  One or two faces caught his eye. Beren exchanged a glance with Jaimma. Nelor looked worried and conflicted.

  Perhaps everyone didn’t agree with Nerris. If he could talk to them quietly, one on one, slowly build up a following, perhaps he could challenge Nerris’s statement.

  It would take time, but he wasn’t quite ready to give up yet.

  *****

  “WHAT DO WE DO NOW?” Marlee asked quietly. They’d fallen into bed last night after the failed take off, not even having the energy to talk. Marlee had fallen asleep instantly, but slumber eluded Tyris. Too many plans ran through his mind.

  Now he sighed. “I can’t believe Nerris lied to the villagers. Yet they all trust him unquestioningly, and they can’t even conceive that he might not be telling them the truth. There must be some way to get through to them.”

  “Do you really think your plan would work?” Marlee asked.

  Even she doubted him.

  Her words stung. He’d thought he could count on her. That she believed in him. “It has a better chance of success than I had with just the engines in the Hylista. And any chance is better than none.”

  “Not necessarily,” Marlee said gently. “Nerris has a point. Risking the Tenacity without a decent chance of success isn’t right. It’s not fair to everyone else here.”

  Tyris sat up on one elbow. “I don’t see Nerris giving them the actual facts and letting them have a say in the matter.” His hands curled into fists. “What do you think Beren, Jaimma, Rejan, and Nelor would say? Don’t you think they and some of the others might think it’s worth the risk? Don’t they have as much right to be involved in the decision as Nerris and the council do?”

  Marlee was silent for a long moment. “I guess so,” she said, but she didn’t sound completely convinced.

  Tyris pressed on anyway. “We should talk to some of them quietly, away from Nerris, and find out what they really think. If we can get a big enough group to agree with us, the council will have to listen.”

  “What if it doesn’t work?” Marlee asked. “What if we stir up all this discontent, this hope of getting off the planet, and we can’t? Could we ever go back to the way things are now?”

  Could life ever go back to being the same after a mutiny? He’d
seen and read enough about military coups to know that it couldn’t. Even talking to people would change the way things worked here on Zerris.

  But would that be a bad thing? “What’s the benefit of things staying the same? The rules the council have set, they’re not right, and they’re not working either. Something has to change.”

  Marlee sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Tyris. I don’t like the way things are now, and I don’t always agree with the council, but what if it causes rifts between the elders and the rest of us? We need to all work together to survive here. We barely have enough people to grow and process enough food as it is. If we split into smaller groups, it could be the end of us.”

  His conscience warred with his desires. “You can’t just expect me to sit here and accept this!” He ground his teeth.

  “Is it so bad here?” Marlee asked softly. “Why do you want to get home so much?”

  Tyris paused. Why did he? It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy here with Marlee. Why couldn’t he just be satisfied with that? He tried to imagine it, but his brain wouldn’t settle.

  “Surely you can see the problems here. I’ve been buried or trapped by snow far more than I’d liked in the last six months. And you yourself have told me there have been years when you weren’t sure if you’d have enough food to survive the winter. Life’s dangerous and uncertain. If someone’s injured, you have no equipment or medications to treat them. On Urslat, Brenda’s partner wouldn’t have died. How many more in the future are going to die unnecessarily? And that’s before we even start talking about the anysogen pollution.”

  “There are risks anywhere. You can’t tell me that people never die on Urslat. Despite the hardships, we’ve always made it through,” Marlee said. “And there are good things here too.”

  He couldn’t deny that. “True. I love the way everyone helps each other out and works together. That’s rare on Urslat. And I’ve made some real friends here. But I have friends and family on Urslat too. I’d love to introduce you to my parents, and Kerrit, my brother. I hate the thought of never seeing them again.”

  “Is it worth risking your life for?” Marlee asked, her voice tinged with sadness.

  That gave Tyris pause. He’d become so used to risking his life. Every time he was deployed, there was a chance he wouldn’t come back. He didn’t even really think about it anymore.

  Marlee continued, “Can’t you just settle here and be happy?”

  He wanted to say yes, wanted to tell her he’d rather be with her than any of them. He would rather be with her here than back on Urslat alone.

  But he couldn’t guarantee he’d get to stay with her.

  “What if we can’t have a baby? What if the council tries to split us up?” he said.

  Marlee was silent. The thought must have occurred to her as well. “That held me off from being with you for a long time,” she said finally. “I’m not ready to give you up again. Maybe we can’t have a baby, but we won’t know until we try.”

  What if he made a choice? He’d been ready to a few months ago, before he found out about the anysogen. What if he chose to be here with Marlee and leave Urslat behind him? The image of walking into the village hall with Marlee and their child reappeared in his head. He could have this life. All he had to do was make the choice. It was more real, more solid, more possible than the alternative.

  He could happily spend the next ten years, more, trying to make a baby with her.

  But they didn’t have ten years. They didn’t even have two. It all came back to that.

  And if they didn’t succeed in twelve months, it would be too late to go home. Once he removed the implant, he couldn’t return. Not without facing a prison sentence. All the trouble he’d endured due to his participation in that riot as a teenager would be nothing compared to that.

  “I can’t,” he said, “I’m sorry, Marlee.”

  She went silent, not moving, and Tyris rolled over to face her. “I know how important it is to you, Marlee, but while there is any chance I might be able to return to Urslat one day…” He trailed off, hoping she’d understand. He reached for her.

  She stiffened under his touch. “I understand,” she said dully. “Going home is important to you.”

  It was. But it was what she left unsaid that hurt the most. She thought going home was more important to him than she was. “It’s not like that.” He struggled to find the words to explain. “I care about you …”

  “But you don’t love me.” Her simple statement felt like a punch in the gut.

  Where had that come from? Neither of them had even mentioned the word love up until that point. Why was she bringing it up now?

  He had a family back on Urslat. A family who probably thought he was dead. Wanting to go back there wasn’t selfish.

  “This isn’t about love,” he said flatly. “Why should I have to choose between you and the chance to return home one day? To my family? Why am I not good enough for you the way I am? If I can’t father a child, suddenly I’m worthless. You’re just the same as Milandra.”

  He’d thought she was different. He thought she could look past his inability to have children, but in the end, she was just the same as everybody else. The implant chip marked him as damaged goods, not good enough to be a parent, not good enough to be a partner.

  Marlee stared at him, confusion written in her eyes. “Tyris, I don’t think you’re worthless. I want to stay with you, be with you, not just for the next year, but forever. But if we can’t have a child, they won’t let us stay together!”

  “Oh right. You’re ready to blindly obey when your council lays down a rule, but when I want to abide by the rules on my planet, it’s unfair and means I don’t love you. It doesn’t only work one way.”

  “But we’re not on Urslat, and we may never get there. You could try to fix the Hylista for years and still be stuck here!” Marlee sat up in bed and reached for his hands, but he pulled back. She kept talking. “Is it really so important? I thought we had something special here, something worth trying to keep. I thought you agreed. But now you’re ready to throw it all away for such a small chance to get back to Urslat. Is it this ‘Milandra’? Is she the reason you’re so desperate to get home? Did you ever really care about me, or were you just pretending?” Tears glistened in Marlee’s eyes.

  “Why do I have to make a choice? If the council would let me have the parts for my ship, then we could leave here. We could be together even if we couldn’t have a baby.” A sudden thought hit him. “Or is that the problem? On Urslat, I can’t have children. Is that all I am, just a way to have a baby?”

  “Of course not!” Marlee denied, but Tyris couldn’t quite believe her. Why did having a baby matter so much? He would never feel right having a baby here, without the Colonies permission. The only way to get the chip removed, legally, was to get back to Urslat with the anysogen find.

  He threw back the covers. “I need to be alone,” he mumbled. He stumbled out of the house blindly, not even thinking where he might go. Marlee called out something behind him, but he didn’t want to hear it.

  MARLEE FLINCHED AS THE DOOR slammed behind Tyris.

  He was gone.

  Tears slid down her cheeks. It was all such a mess. If only she hadn’t brouth up the topic of a baby.

  He’d swung from hope to desperation so much in the last couple of weeks. Of course he needed time to process it. If only she didn’t feel the pressure so intently. Yes, their time was limited, but another week, even another month, wouldn’t have hurt. Not much anyway.

  But would the conversation have gone any differently in a few weeks? Tyris seemed set on fighting the council. Set on one solution to their problems—getting off the planet. He didn’t want a baby. In fact, he’d rather give up their relationship than remove his contraceptive chip.

  She understood his reluctance to break the rules on his home planet. But they couldn’t obey both sets of rules, not if they wanted to stay together. Right now, they were here on Zerris. T
hey had no choice but to obey the council’s rules.

  It was so unfair that it came down to this. When did it become their choice? When did she get to choose if she had a baby or not? Or how long she wanted to be with someone.

  When did she get to live her life?

  The council’s rules weren’t working anymore. She could see that. Everyone was starting to feel it. All of the younger generation anyway, those who hadn’t been part of the decision making. Jaimma and Beren’s decision to make sure they could have a baby—even if it wasn’t with each other—was evidence of that. And she’d felt she had no other choice than to stop caring for anyone, because it hurt too much.

  These were the choices they shouldn’t have to make. Choices that weren’t helping them live better lives.

  But what could she do about it? Would talking to the council do any good? She’d been ready to defy them to choose to be with no one. Was it any different to defy them and insist on staying with Tyris even when they said it was over?

  Marlee sat up in bed and hugged her knees.

  Could she do it? Could she just tell the council she wasn’t going to leave Tyris? She’d decided to defy them after her breakup with Nelor, but that was different. Then, she’d only planned on not getting involved again. And if she admitted the truth to herself, she hadn’t expected to hold out for long. This was different. This time, she wasn’t going to let anyone convince her to change her mind.

  Before fear could talk her out of it, Marlee jumped out of bed and marched across to the village hall. Everyone gathered there, discussing what needed to be done for the day. Marlee ignored all of them and walked straight up to Kalim.

  “I want to speak to the council, in private,” she said before her courage could desert her.

  The council members exchanged looks. No one ever requested a private meeting with the council. Problems were solved informally through general discussion.

  “Of course, Marlee,” Kalim’s voice was steady, despite his surprise. He and the other council members followed Marlee into the back room.