“Careful, Ricky, or your dinner will be all over the floor.” Nan chastised him with a smile on her face. “How was Rion?” she asked Ben.
“He was Rion.” Ben said it as if that was enough. “He sends his apologies, Cara, but he’s traveling back slowly with a new bull calf and won’t be here before we leave. Mmm, that smells good. What’s for dinner? Can I help?”
“It’s almost ready,” Nan said. “By the time Ricky sets the table, it will be done. You could open some wine. Last year’s elderflower is very good.”
“Rion’s?” Ben asked.
“Kai made it when he was home from university last summer.” Nan turned to Cara. “I’m sorry you won’t get to meet Kai. He’s in Arkhad City doing an agricultural course, but right now he’s on a placement on Sansoom studying hydrotropic food production.”
“Kai’s gone to the moon,” Ricky said to Cara with a mixture of pride and envy. “And he’s not even got a psi-tech implant. I want to go to the moon one day. To the moon and beyond like Uncle Ben.”
“Well, if you work hard at school . . .” Cara began, only to notice Ben give a slight shake of his head.
*Why not?* she asked. *The kid’s got psi potential. Anyone can see that.*
*Rion can’t, and he’s dead set against it. Won’t have him encouraged.*
*So the kid’s going to hit puberty and then what? He’ll get tested, right?*
*Oh, sure, Nan will see to that, but Rion doesn’t want him influenced before then. He hopes the kid will choose to turn down an implant despite psi potential, like Rion himself did. Like Kai did.*
*They turned it down?*
Ben gave the equivalent of a mental sigh. *Rion’s been terrified of the idea of crossing the Folds ever since our parents were lost. It’s colored his whole life. It was the root of all our disagreements. He wanted me to stay on the farm as well. When I didn’t, he—well—he wrote me off as already gone from his life.*
*Your brother sounds like an ass.*
*Sometimes. Anyhow, I agreed not to wind Ricky up about space travel, but the more Rion plays it down, the more fascinated Ricky becomes.*
*We always seem to want what we can’t have.* How true that was, Cara thought. Right now she might be tempted to settle for a quiet life on the farm if she could be sure Ari wouldn’t catch up with her, but that was impossible.
“I’ve learned a lot about the Trust because of Uncle Ben,” Ricky said over dinner. “I know how it’s organized, with regional headquarters in different sectors of space and I studied which ships they have in the Colony fleet and in the Militaire fleet and the Transport fleet, cargo and personnel carriers. And I know which ones are explorers and which are survey vessels. Is Alphacorp the same? Uncle Ben says you worked for Alphacorp.”
“I did.” She supposed that was an open secret, but she really didn’t want to go over everything again. Ricky was a hard kid to refuse, though. His enthusiasm was catching, and, for a nine-year-old, he asked intelligent questions. “Alphacorp has all its departmental headquarters on Earth. The main one is right in the middle of the Saharan rainforest.”
“Oh, I’d like to see that. Did Alphacorp do the terraforming?”
“Some of it. It was a joint project, back before there were so many colony planets.”
“Is that where you worked?”
“No, I went there a few times, though, and I went to an Alphacorp school in New Tamanrasset. That’s in the Sahara, too, a bubble town with climate control because it’s so hot and humid. After the Academy, I was stationed on Lukeman’s World in the Perseus Arm. There are a lot of new colonies opening up out there.”
She didn’t mention being recalled to Earth. That’s when she’d met Ari and things had started to go wrong. She’d made two bad decisions, first to get involved with Ari at all, and second to stand up to Craike on Felcon. No, that second one hadn’t been bad. It had been the only choice. Craike was out of control. Pity it turned out to have such bad consequences for both her and her team. She couldn’t tell Ricky about that.
• • •
They left the farm early the following morning with promises to keep in touch and to return after the Olyanda mission. With cryo time, it would be two and a half years for Nan and Ricky, though only a year for Cara and Ben.
“Look after each other,” Ben said. He hugged Nan and solemnly shook Ricky’s hand “I’ll be back before your twelfth birthday.”
Just as they were turning to the copter Ricky raced up, flung his arms around Ben’s chest and gave him a desperate hug, then, wordless, but with shining eyes, ran back to Nan.
“The boy loves you,” Cara said as they rose into the air, still waving through the copter’s bubble.
“That’s only because I’m the exciting one who arrives for short visits with a few tall tales. He thinks it’s all excitement out there. His dad has a point about staying on the farm.”
“You don’t really mean that.”
He grinned. “No way! Rion’s welcome to it.”
• • •
Max Constant stood behind his fellow settlers, on the edge of the crowd, taking in, but not taken in by, Director Lorient’s performance.
The director was a charismatic speaker. His resonant voice held the promise of a better life to come. He had inspired a generation of Ecolibrians through his massively popular telecasts, and now his followers, those who had believed enough to give up everything and exchange all their savings for the promise of a new world, were with him in body as well as spirit.
Max just didn’t get their rapture. The faces of those around him shone with some kind of inner light. He wished he had that light. It would make being here so much easier.
He could watch the performance quite objectively while appreciating the quality of the rhetoric. He’d studied Victor Lorient’s way of winning over the crowd many times, but still he couldn’t pin it down. What made him so loved? Why him and not any one of a dozen Ecolibrian politicians?
A young Asiatic woman in the crowd turned to leave as the light on the podium faded. She bumped into his chest and smiled at him. “Sorry,” she said. “My fault.” She was startlingly beautiful. He was sure he’d not seen her in the settler compound before—he’d certainly have remembered.
“It’s these double-length days on Chenon,” Max said. “Having darkness throughout every other day-cycle takes a bit of getting used to, and the humidity . . . Whew! Makes me misstep all the time. Olyanda will be better, though. Twenty-six-hour days and a cool temperate climate. We can handle that.”
“There’s a lot to think about, isn’t there?”
Max nodded as he picked his way down the grassy bank and offered the woman his hand, which she ignored.
“I’m going down to the lake,” she said. “Do you want to come?”
Did he? He didn’t have anything better to do. He fell into step beside her.
They walked without speaking, through the compound, between dormer blocks and the dining hall where they all ate in shifts. The lake, one of the saving graces of this place, was barely a hundred meters from the nearest bunkhouse, but it was like another world. As they left the crowd behind, Max broke the silence. “I’m Max. Max Constant.”
“Pleased to meet you, Max. Genevieve.” She didn’t offer her surname.
“Do you think everyone’s ready for the trip?” she asked.
Max shrugged. “Those who aren’t are mostly keeping it to themselves, though someone in my bunkhouse was talking about having his parents buy him out of the expedition.”
“I guess it’s better to change your mind now rather than wish you had later.”
Had he made the right decision? “Do you ever look back at what you’ve left behind?” Max asked.
She shook her head. That was either a no or she didn’t want to talk about it.
He wondered how many people were running away, rather than toward something.
“How about you?” she asked.
“I used to be an accountant. I know,
boring, right?”
Most people saw it as boring, but Max had ambitions to end up in colony administration. Once they got to Olyanda, he’d try to make the move to admin. Until then he had to play the dedicated settler. “I’ve done a course in woodworking.”
“You’ll be an independent artisan.”
“Something like that.” Woodworking was a very satisfying hobby, but he couldn’t see himself making furniture for the rest of his life.
“How do you feel about psi-techs?” she asked.
“Oh, they’re just people. They don’t frighten me. I used to work with them.” He didn’t mention Leila. “You’re not worried about them, are you?”
She shook her head, but he took her silence for nervousness.
“They never let new colonies loose without backup.” He tried to sound reassuring. “There were too many disasters in the early days. Too many lives lost. Using psi-techs cut down on the colony failures.”
She stepped away from him slightly. “You know a lot about psi-techs.”
“I’ve done my research. Did you know they originally developed psi-tech implants for Navigators, to make flying through the Folds safer?”
She shrugged as if she didn’t really care.
He’d better watch what he said. Obviously a liberal attitude wouldn’t win him any friends. He wondered whether there were other people who felt like him. Judging by all the whooping and hollering over the director’s speech, not a lot did. The settlers were basically a nice bunch of folks until someone mentioned psi-techs, and then they got all sanctimonious.
“You want to go get a drink?” he asked. “Caff or something stronger?”
“They said no alcohol for twenty-four hours before cryo. Isn’t everyone in this sector scheduled for tomorrow?”
“They’re still serving it in the refec.”
“Take my advice, don’t.”
“You sound as though you know what you’re talking about. Have you done cryo before?”
She shook her head. “Just heard about it. Go get a good night’s sleep.”
He watched her walk down the hill alone, then turned back toward the bunkhouse he’d been sharing with a bunch of other single men. He sighed. There was nothing left at home that he wanted to go back to and no parents to buy out his contract.
“Olyanda, here I come.”
Chapter Twelve
DEPARTURE
The last leaves clinging to an ornamental tree rustled in the cold, crisp breeze. Ben fancied he could feel a touch of frost. It was the middle of the long night on Chenon, but there was so much artificial light in the city that it was almost like day. Only the drop in temperature and the faint scent of the pink turf outside the compound, sharper at night, really made it feel different. He shivered and wished he was wearing his buddysuit.
He walked briskly round the grounds twice and then took a deep breath and went back inside the building. Marta was still at her desk. He didn’t draw attention to himself, but sat down quietly next to her and activated the sound baffles.
“I need to talk to you in private.”
She was a short-range Telepath.
*This is private,* she said.
*I want you to do me a favor, a quiet one. I know that it’s not on the manifest, but I want you to find room for my Dixie Flyer in the hold. Exchange it for a flitter if you have to, but get it in there somehow, and don’t clear it with anyone, even Crowder. Understand?*
*Okay, Boss, you’ve got it.*
*You’re not going to ask me why?*
*No. I trust your hunches. You wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.*
He felt much better.
• • •
With the information assimilated, Cara settled down to do her share of the prep work, supervising, packing and loading, checking inventories, and taking her turn on long-range comms. It seemed as though there was so much to do that they’d never get through it all, and then, suddenly, it was done. The shuttles with the essential equipment and supplies to see them through the first few weeks after landing were the last to depart on the principle of last in, first out.
All that remained was to celebrate the end of the first phase and then to take their final day of personal leave before being frozen and racked alongside the settlers for the journey.
The team from HQ ate together that night in a private room at one of the city’s more exclusive restaurants.
Sitting next to Serafin, Cara noticed Ronan come in a little later than everyone else and avoid the empty place next to Wenna in favor of squeezing in between Gen and Yan Gwenn. If she hadn’t been watching closely, she might have missed Wenna’s slight headshake as he failed to make eye contact with her.
Cara bent over a plate of steamed zamberries and mopped the sweet juice with crusty bread, then licked her fingers clean.
“I can’t believe we’re so close to departure,” she said to Serafin.
“Believe it.” Serafin brushed crumbs from his chest. “Anna froze a hundred of ours in body pods today and that’s the last—apart from us. Two days from now we’ll be shipped off to the arse-end of nowhere.”
“You’re looking forward to it, Serafin, admit it,” Marta said across the table. “Me, I hate cryo.”
“What’s not to like about cryo?” Serafin said. “You go under, you come out again. Subjectively, it’s over in minutes, it saves months of talking to the inside of a cabin the size of a coffin, and you don’t even age. Besides, I love new planet work. You have a fresh page to draw on and you can make the picture exactly what you want it to be.”
“Yes, but these settlers are going to be breathing down our necks all the time.” Gen cupped both hands around a glass of spiced juice. “I slipped into one of their meetings to try and get a feel for their attitude. It was like a religious rally—all that anti-psi feeling.”
“Even with straightforward colonists there’s always that danger,” Ben said. “Always some loudmouth who thinks he, or she, knows best in a tricky situation. Sometimes, of course, they do.”
Gen leaned forward, across her plate. “I did speak to one guy after the rally who didn’t seem to buy into the hype, but I think he was the exception rather than the rule. The rest of them . . .”
Ben nodded. “Lorient’s got some hard-liners, prejudiced against us before they start. And Lorient himself is bordering on psi-phobic. We’re sullying their promised land with our implant technology. We’re not real humans to them.”
“Puh-lease,” Marta said. “You think you’ve got problems. I’m the one with gills. If anyone calls me a fisssh-woman, I ssswear I’ll get physssical.” She emphasized the esses deliberately. There was a momentary silence, and then she grinned and they all cracked up laughing.
“They’re especially wary because most of us don’t have gills. We don’t look any different on the outside,” Ben said. “There isn’t even a scar from the implant.” He looked around the table. “It’s bad for us, but healthy for them. They have to be in the right frame of mind to see us leave at the end of the year without panicking about being cut off from help. During that year we tread a fine line between being acceptably supportive or unacceptably overwhelming.”
Suzi Ruka arrived late, and they moved up to make room for her. She squeezed in next to Serafin, and he patted her thigh almost absentmindedly. “Anyone want my salad?” she asked. “I see so much of the damned stuff growing that sometimes I can’t face it.”
“I’ll take it.” Serafin took the proffered bowl and started to pick at greens with his fingers.
Ben reached over, picked out an olive, and ate it. “There was never any question that Lorient would lead the settlers, but I could have wished that Jack Mario had been given overall charge. Lorient’s a charismatic figurehead, but Jack’s a real solid administrator and he’s a genuinely nice guy.”
“Hello, boys and girls, just popped in to make sure you were all enjoying yourselves.” Crowder appeared in the doorway and they all turned toward him. “Don’t stop eat
ing. I just wanted to wish you luck, not that you’ll need it with all that talent.”
“Grab a plate, come and join us.” Ben moved over.
“Yeah, we were just talking about the mission anyway,” Suzi said. “Saying Lorient’s hard-liners might be a problem.”
“Well, you know you have my backing whatever happens. Mixing psi-techs with fundies is bound to cause a few awkward moments, but nothing you can’t handle.” He looked at Ben and inclined his head. “As far as I’m concerned you play it strictly by the book. If they give you too much trouble, you simply pull out ahead of time. I can send a couple of light personnel carriers through the Exan Gate within seventeen days to lift off the tech teams.”
He said all the right words, but Cara was still wary of Crowder. She turned to look at Ronan, but the young doctor, the only other Empath, was staring at the wall, lost in thought.
“I’m not planning on failure,” Ben said.
“Of course not,” Crowder said. “So I’ll leave you to it. I still have some numbers to crunch back at the office. You all enjoy yourselves this evening, and your day off tomorrow, and I’ll see you the day after for loading.”
Serafin watched Crowder leave. “He’s a good boss, Boss.”
“Yes, he is.” Ben nodded.
Cara kept her doubts to herself. The ark would take nine months to reach its destination, but though transporting passengers in cryo on an ark ship was the most economical, it wasn’t the only way to travel. Vessels pulling less mass could still make a safe journey through the much smaller Exan Gate in a matter of two to three weeks, no cryo required, but the expense was enormous, and rising all the time as platinum reserves dwindled and base rate prices increased. Crowder’s willingness to sanction that expense as an emergency backup measure made everyone feel more comfortable.
If he means it. That thought nagged at Cara.
• • •
Neither Cara nor Ben took their day’s leave and, unsurprisingly, most of the others came into the office at some point, though they didn’t spend the whole day there. Ronan came in early and left as Wenna arrived. Suzi only dropped by to persuade Serafin to take a break and that was the last anyone saw of either of them for the rest of the day. The time flew by in a blur of desk-clearing and checking. Cara had packed everything that she wouldn’t be needing into storage. All that remained now was to turn up at the med-center for cryo processing in the morning.
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