by Joe Vasicek
“Where are the cryo-tanks?” Jeremiah asked. “Wouldn’t it be more efficient to put the colonists in suspended animation, rather than keep them awake?”
“Yes and no,” said the captain. “Cryo is good for mass transport between established settlements, but when you’re building up a place from scratch, your people need the temporary living space that a larger starship can provide.”
Jeremiah nodded. “I see. Have you done this before?”
“Done what?”
“Colonized a new star.”
Captain Elijah nodded. “Only twice—it takes time, settling a new system. I expect this time’ll be my last.”
And my first and only.
“How long will it take to get there?” Jeremiah asked.
“Our current flight plan puts the arrival date a little more than five standard months from now. We’ll make resupply stops at Beta, Gamma, and Zeta Oriana before venturing out of the star cluster and making a straight line for the Zarmina system.”
“Can I get the detailed schedule? I plan to take the Ariadne on a couple of quick trade runs before we arrive.”
“Sure. I don’t see why that should be a problem.”
“And as for the medical facilities,” said Jeremiah, the tension evident in his voice, “do you think they’ll be enough to deliver my wife safely, or—”
Captain Elijah laughed and slapped him on the back. “Of course, of course! It’ll be our good luck baby—the first one born in the new world.”
I guess.
“Our facilities are completely at your disposal,” he added. “Our chief doctor doesn’t speak Deltan, but we have a couple of midwives who do. Of course, if you prefer to run solo and meet us at Zeta Oriana for the final stretch, that should be fine too.”
“No,” said Jeremiah, “I think we’ll spend a lot of time on board with you. We’ll probably meet up at either Beta or Gamma Oriana, depending on the schedule.”
“Fair enough,” said the captain. “While you’re out there, be sure to spread the word about our new settlement. We could use as much merchant traffic as we can get.”
“Will do.”
Captain Elijah slapped Jeremiah on the back and smiled. “There’s nothing quite like the thrill you get before setting out on a long voyage across the stars, is there?”
“No, there isn’t.”
He laughed. “Well, I’d best be getting to my post. Can’t leave without the captain, eh?”
Jeremiah grinned. “I suppose not. Take care.”
“And you too, son. We’ll see you across the heavens.”
Jeremiah watched the old starship captain walk down the terminal to his ship. He turned back to the window, staring out at the massive starship that would take them to the new world. The man is right, he thought to himself. There really isn’t anything like the thrill before setting out across the stars.
The sound of footsteps on the smooth tile floor made him turn. Mariya and Noemi walked up to him, arm in arm. As Noemi’s eyes met his own, her lips turned up in a warm smile.
“Jerem-ahra,” she said, letting go of Mariya to give him a hug. He slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close. After a brief but tender kiss, they turned to face Mariya.
“My parents are loading the last of our belongings now,” she said, her eyes a little red. “We’ve said all our goodbyes—this is it.”
“Good. We’ll make a couple of trade runs and meet back up with you in a few weeks, probably at Gamma Oriana.”
She nodded, her body tense. “You’re going to stay with us the rest of the way?”
“Probably. Is something the matter?”
“I’m fine,” she said, looking away quickly. “It’s just—I’m never going to see this place again, am I?”
Jeremiah shook his head. Mariya bit her lip and drew in a sharp breath.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “If it’s any consolation, I know how it feels to leave everything behind.”
“Thanks.”
Noemi stepped forward and put her arms around her in a warm, sisterly hug. They exchanged softly spoken words, while tears slowly traced their lines down Mariya’s cheeks. She stepped back and wiped them away, a tremulous smile on her face.
“Did you tell her we won’t be going with you for the first part of the voyage?” Jeremiah asked.
“Yes, she knows. Until we meet again, then.”
“Until then.”
They gave each other a quick parting hug. Mariya hesitated for a moment, and then walked quickly down the corridor toward the docking terminal. Noemi tensed a little as she watched her go, but when Jeremiah put his arm around her, she soon relaxed.
It’s just the two of us now, he realized, just like old times. As he thought a little more about it, he realized that the captain was wrong—there were some thrills even greater than setting out across the stars.
* * * * *
The lights on the Ariadne flickered and came to life as Jeremiah stepped into the old, familiar cabin of his ship. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, savoring the smell he knew so well. Even with the changes he’d made, he felt more at home here than at any place on Oriana Station—or anywhere else, for that matter.
Noemi walked past him and folded out one of the seats from the wall. He helped her in, fastening the restraints around her shoulders and waist. Before heading up to the cockpit, he leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss.
His heart raced as he lowered himself into the familiar contours of the pilot’s chair. The display screens, the switches and instrument panels running along the walls and ceiling, and the forward window, with its magnificent view of the swirling gas giant outside—it felt so gloriously invigorating to be back on his own ship, in his own chair. Truly, this was freedom. He leaned back and savored the moment, made all the better for knowing that he wouldn’t be making this voyage alone.
The displays and instrument panels slowly came to life as he powered up the navigational systems. The low hum reverberated through the bulkheads, telling him that the jump drive was charged and ready. Only a few minutes now, and they’d be gone from Oriana Station forever. It almost made him feel wistful—almost, but not quite.
“Attention station control,” he said, speaking into the ship’s transceiver. “This is the Ariadne, requesting permission to undock and proceed to jump point alpha.”
It took a few seconds before he received the station’s response. He gripped the flight stick and held his breath.
“Ariadne, this is station control. You are cleared to undock. Proceed to jump point alpha along the designated course.”
“Copy, station control,” he said, pulling down the docking lever. “Proceeding now.”
His stomach fell as the Ariadne detached from the station, causing the outside view to turn and spin. In the cabin, Noemi gasped in surprise, but otherwise seemed all right. Taking care to be gentle, he nosed the ship down and engaged the sublight engines. A deep rumble sounded through the bulkheads, and an invisible hand pressed him gently against his seat as they accelerated.
This is it, he thought to himself, heart racing. After checking the target coordinates, he reached over and flicked the switch to initiate jump.
A great, expansive feeling swept through him, sending chills up and down his spine. Outside, the stars seemed to swim away from him—or perhaps toward him, it was difficult to tell. In the cabin, Noemi gasped again, much louder this time. He didn’t blame her—after living on the station for so long, he’d almost forgotten how it felt. But then, the feeling passed, the starfield recrystallized, and he was back in the cockpit of the Ariadne, surrounded by all the familiar controls.
For a brief moment as he stared out at the shimmering starfield of deep space, fear stabbed at him. Noemi, Mariya, the long stay at Oriana Station—what if it had all been a dream? What if none of it had been real?
He tore off the seat restraints and scrambled back into the cabin, his heart beating like a nuclear engine in his chest. When
his eyes fell on Noemi, however, sitting in her loose-fitting jumpsuit and vest, relief turned his legs to water. She looked up and gave him a quizzical smile, as if to ask what was the matter.
“Thank the stars, you’re here,” he said, helping her out of the chair. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her another kiss—firmer this time, as if to confirm that she was still real. She ran her fingers through his hair and laughed a little, making him blush and feel silly.
After a few moments, she walked past him and stepped into the cockpit. He followed her, standing by her side as she gazed out at the myriad stars.
“Home,” she said, pointing out the window. He smiled and slipped his hand around her waist, pulling her close.
“Yes,” he said, pointing with her. “Home.”
Part III: Sacrifice
Chapter 11
The dome of Ebitha City stretched overhead like a shimmering ceiling, held up by giant pylons of steel. The dim red sun shone down through the rippling surface of the planet’s hydrosphere, only twenty meters above the glass. For a water world, the ocean was fairly shallow, especially on the vast underwater shelf where most of the settlements were located. Blue-green glowlamps lined the city’s wide boulevards, giving the place a warm, inviting feel, but the lack of vegetation put Jeremiah on edge.
This colony isn’t at all like Edenia, he thought to himself. Even though only a few standard years had passed since he’d left the domed gardens of his birth world to seek his fortune among the stars, it took an extra effort to remember the tall, shady redwoods that he’d left behind forever. He hadn’t realized that such things were a rarity in the rest of the universe—that most people lived out their lives without seeing a single tree or setting foot on a natural surface.
His wife, Noemi, held tightly to his hand as they walked down the crowded thoroughfare. Her stomach had swollen considerably in the past few weeks, indicating that her pregnancy was already well into the second trimester. She pulled back a strand of light brown hair behind her ear, glancing nervously over her shoulder at the strangely dressed men and women all around them. It was clear she felt uneasy, so he squeezed her hand and walked a little faster.
“Sa’ad m’divart?” she asked. Where are we going?
He tried to answer in her language but couldn’t find the words. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “You’ll see.”
At length, he found what he was looking for: a multipurpose robotics shop. Inside, bots of all shapes and sizes hung on racks, their polished surfaces gleaming in the warm fluorescent light. With their spindly arms and probes splayed out, they looked like crabs at the city’s bustling fish market.
“Bot,” said Noemi in her charmingly foreign accent, staring wide-eyed around her. “Many bot.”
“Yes,” said Jeremiah. “I’m getting one for you.”
“For me?” she asked, giving him a puzzled look.
“Yes, for you.”
He patted her belly, but comprehension failed to dawn on her face. She smiled curiously at him, then turned back to browsing all the high tech gear around them.
“May I help you?”
Jeremiah turned and saw a middle-aged man with an apron around his waist—no doubt one of the salesmen.
“Yes,” said Jeremiah. “We’re looking for a good compact medibot for my wife. She’s about twenty weeks pregnant.”
“A medibot, eh?” said the salesman. He turned down the aisle and motioned for them to come with him. Noemi seemed a bit reluctant, but Jeremiah put his arm around her waist and she came along.
“That’s right. What do you have?”
“You’re in luck—we received a shipment of medibots from a Coreward trader not three standard days ago. I think we have just what you’re looking for.”
He held out a smooth white disk a little wider than his hand, with a bulbous protrusion underneath it in the center. As Jeremiah reached out to lift it, the device whirred and hovered above his hand, unfolding three spindly arms. It pointed its robotic eye at Noemi, and she jumped back in fright.
“It’s okay,” he said, reassuring her with a squeeze. “It’s just a medibot.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “No want.”
He frowned. “You don’t want it?”
“No.”
“It might look a little scary, but it’s perfectly safe,” said the salesman. He took hold of the medibot from behind, and the arms retracted as quickly as they’d appeared. Still, Noemi crossed her arms tight against her chest and shook her head.
“Noemi, we need this,” Jeremiah tried to explain. “The bot will help keep you and the baby healthy while we’re traveling in deep space. Do you understand? Healthy.”
“No want.”
“But Noemi, you need this.”
She shook her head, as firm and unyielding as ever. From the look in her eyes, it was clear that his words had passed right over her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, turning back to the salesman. “We, ah, need some time to discuss this in private.”
“I understand,” he said. “We’re closing in a few hours for the festival of Logan, but we should be open the dayshift after tomorrow.”
That’s too late, Jeremiah thought. By then, we’ll already be gone.
“Thank you,” he said again, leading Noemi hastily out the door. She gave him an uncertain look, as if to ask if he was angry, but he ignored it.
Outside, the steady pulse of electronic music echoed across the city. Multicolored lasers mingled with the red sunlight shining down through the glass overhead. A large crowd had gathered in a nearby square, apparently for the festival. On half a dozen pillars and stands, scantily clad priests and priestesses spun glowing balls in mesmerizing patterns, their eyes closed in religious ecstasy. The music shifted, and a large crowd began to gather in the streets, swaying rhythmically to the beat.
“Noemi,” said Jeremiah, putting both hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” she asked, giving him a puzzled look.
“Bad,” he said—then, reverting to what little he knew of her language, “Ra tsudat? Aravitisi ratom—”
She shook her head vigorously. “Ara ara—no bad, no bad.”
“Then why don’t you—I mean, ratom araginda …” he gestured to the robotics shop.
Her eyes lit up with understanding. “No need,” she said. “No need, no want.”
The electronic beat picked up, making Jeremiah’s head pound. “Are you sure?” he asked, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. “When we leave this port, it won’t be another four weeks until we get to the next one. I don’t—”
“Doctor?” she asked. “I see doctor here?”
He paused for a moment to think. “Yes, we have an appointment at the clinic later today. You still want to go, right?”
“Today?”
“Yes. Shen ginda?”
“Ki, ki,” she said, nodding. Yes.
He sighed and took her hand. “Very well—let’s go.”
At least she’s still willing to go in for a checkup, he thought as he led her through the crowded streets toward Ebitha City’s spaceport. Four solid weeks of travel through deep space before they reached Gamma Oriana—if there were any complications in the pregnancy, he wouldn’t be able to help her until after they arrived. That was enough to make the voyage positively nerve-racking.
The music rose in pitch, the electronic beat pulsating throughout the city of glass and steel. Noemi stayed close to Jeremiah as he navigated the crowd of worshipers swaying in a trance-like euphoria. With the blood red sun and the laser-lights shimmering all around them, he felt as far from home as he ever had.
* * * * *
Thick, red clouds covered the sunward hemisphere of New Ebitha, with a monstrous hurricane at its center. The storm covered almost half the planet, churning the boundless sea with thunderheads that towered more than twenty kilometers above the water’s surface. From the cockpit of the Ariadne, however, it looked as
peaceful and as tranquil as any other view from space.
Jeremiah checked the clock in the corner of his display: a little over six hours to departure. He glanced up through the ceiling porthole at the dark gray hull of Ebitha Station, only a handful of meters from his ship. The station here was much smaller than the one at Alpha Oriana, so that the only docking space lay along a perpendicular pair of arms that extended from the hub.
I’m not going to miss this place, he thought as he cycled through the Ariadne’s diagnostics. It didn’t much seem that Noemi would either. The doctor’s visit had gone fairly well, though they’d needed a translator bot to communicate. Of course, the bot’s Deltan database was hopelessly inaccurate, so Jeremiah had been pulled in to help. Eventually, they’d had to resort to hand gestures to get the information across. At least Noemi was still healthy—he didn’t know what they’d have done if the doctor had found a problem.
Sighing, he rose to his feet and ducked through the cockpit doorway, absently running his hands along the instrument panels in the wall. She needs to be among her own people, he thought as he entered the cabin.
With the hammock stowed overhead, the space was barely wide enough for two people to sit comfortably across from each other. Noemi had unfolded a chair from the wall and sat with one of the helmet-like dream monitors on her head. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, her slender arms limp against the armrests.
She looked so peaceful and untroubled—completely unlike him. As much as he worried about caring for her and the baby, she seemed to have an unwavering confidence that everything would turn out all right. Maybe that was because she’d already been forced to sacrifice everything, while he hadn’t.
He chuckled as he remembered how terrified she’d been when she’d first come onto the Ariadne. A famine had struck her home station, and her father had married them off just to save her life. As two complete strangers, they hadn’t even been able to speak the same language. How much all that had changed in the last five months! With all the feelings that they now shared for each other, it was safe to say that things had worked out pretty well for them both.