by Jocelyn Han
The console in the wall logged her straight onto a ‘20th Century Playlist’ created by Nicolas Carter. She hadn’t met the man yet, but she already liked him now – there were tons of Sinatra songs she’d never heard before. At the top of the list, an artist by the name of Dean Martin was featured with a song called ‘For The Good Times’. Curiously, Lana tapped the entry and let herself be flooded by smooth and wistful piano music. Dean Martin’s voice sounded so melancholy that it touched something in her heart that she was better off hiding.
“Life goes on, this old world will keep on turning,” the singer crooned. “Let’s just be glad we had some time to spend together.”
Fresh tears pooled in her eyes as she listened to the words, speaking of a lost love. Sure, she knew she didn’t love Bruce – but she’d loved the idea of getting to know him better. She’d fallen for him. He held the power to make her fall in love with him, if only they could have more time together. He’d truly changed her world.
When Lana stepped outside, blinking against the bright sunlight, she saw Tori, Alen, and Ava sitting on the deck, accompanied by a tall, handsome, brown-haired man. Probably Nicolas Carter. Strangely enough, they were all sitting there silently, huddled around a pad the man she assumed to be Nicolas was holding in his hand, listening intently to a voice coming from the internal speakers.
“What’s going on?” she announced her presence.
“A rebellion broke out in the slums of Old London,” Ava replied breathlessly. “The commoners are revolting. It’s reported to have spread to the countryside.”
“Instigated by the Amaltheans,” Alen added, looking up at Lana. “Bruce Randall apparently sent them some pretty shocking video footage of malpractice in the Promethean mines.”
“I know,” she mumbled, a blush of shame creeping up on her face. “I’ve seen it. I know what my dad is guilty of.”
“Hold on,” Tori blurted out. “Randall showed that to you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what was in it? The British news has been awfully quiet about it. Why do the Amaltheans even care about Prometheus?”
“Because their children work there as slaves,” Lana whispered. “Or they used to, anyway. I’m guessing Bruce has set them free in the meantime?”
Alen cocked an eyebrow. “You’re on a first-name basis with this guy?”
“Just answer the question,” Lana snapped irritably. “Has he?”
Alen was silent for a moment. “Well, that explains why one of his larger ships flew back to Amalthea after the siege,” he mused. “He’s presently occupying the moon, trying to fight off the Russian Armed Forces.”
“There were abused children on board that vessel?” Nicolas wondered out loud. “Why hasn’t the British news covered this yet?”
“Because the government knew and they didn’t give a shit,” Lana exploded. “Because they were selling those kids like cattle. And now, the Amaltheans are telling everyone the truth. Well, good for them. They finally have proof.”
Tori paled visibly. “Are you serious? But your dad – I mean, he knew? And he did nothing?”
“I haven’t talked to him yet, but I will,” Lana replied, her voice flat. Absently, she stared at the pad that Nicolas was holding up. Images of a burning London suburb filled the screen of the news app. And then, the anchor announced breaking news about the war raging around Prometheus. “Public enemy number one Bruce Randall is still in possession of the emerald and tourmaline mines formerly belonging to the Ivanov family, part of the Russian Elite. Only minutes ago, he recharged the mine fields around the planet by using the defense line system he and his team hacked into, effectively destroying most of the Russian fleet,” the melodic voice told them. “Experts say it will be near impossible to retake Prometheus without many more casualties. The death toll in the Russian-Promethean war is rising rapidly. Two days ago, the laborers working in the mines were allegedly rounded up and killed by the infamous pirate.”
Lana froze as she heard the last few words, blinking away tears when an image of Bruce flashed up on screen. He wasn’t being kept out of the media any longer, apparently. They were trying to blame him for things he hadn’t done. “That’s not true,” she objected. “He released them. He wanted to help them.”
“Lana,” Alen said, his suddenly too patient voice grating on her nerves. “I don’t think you’re seeing the bigger picture here. Whatever he’s told you, his ulterior motive for seizing that moon is to get richer than anyone else and have the Elite eating out of his hand. He wants to control the economy.”
“No.” Lana jumped up from the deck chair she’d sunk down on. “You don’t know him.”
Alen’s face clouded over. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down. “Yes, I do,” he said between gritted teeth. “I wasn’t kidding when I said he was the most dangerous and volatile man I’ve ever met. Cold. Calculating. He’s a risk to everyone around him.”
“I – I know that,” she stammered, her voice wavering. “And he knows it too. But he didn’t kill any laborers. I swear he was trying to help them. It’s what started it all – his break from the Elite culture. Are you saying you can’t understand why he hates the world the way it is?”
“I can,” Nicolas piped up unexpectedly. His green eyes were sad and serious when he looked from Lana to Alen. “And I bet you can, too.”
Alen cleared his throat. “Of course I can. But come on, stealing a billion-dollar moon just to rescue poor commoner kids? I’m not buying the whole benevolent benefactor thing.”
“So you do believe there were children on that moon?” Tori spoke up.
“There must have been,” Ava said softly, pointing at the news app, now broadcasting another set of video stills showing burning buildings and bridges in South Old London. “And there must be definite proof.
Lana nodded. “Exactly. How else could the Amaltheans have revved up their sympathizers like this?”
“Sveta is right.”
It was her dad’s voice. Surprised, she whipped around in her seat and found him standing there on the deck, holding one single suitcase, dressed in plain clothes. Mr. Ivanov looked tired, but far less stressed than she was used to seeing him. “Dad,” she gasped, getting up to rush into his arms. “You’re here.”
“I’m a bit early,” he mumbled in her hair, dropping the suitcase to give her a bear hug.
“What happened, papa?” Lana dissolved into tears. “How could you? All those poor, frightened children. All those lives broken.” She clutched his sweater, then suddenly pummeled his chest with furious fists, and he let her, holding her in an embrace that told her how badly he wanted to fix this.
“My company has always been under government supervision,” he tried to explain when she finally stilled in his arms. “When profits went down twenty years ago, we had to dig deeper to get the gemstones out. I tried to find an alternative to manual labor – I really did. At some point, Bruce Randall even contacted me to offer me money so I could invest in nanobots. But I had to turn him down. The Russian Elite weren’t interested in being in debt to some British space pirate. So the fight went on. Throughout the years, he must have stolen billions of rubles from me. It never helped him to achieve his ultimate goal, though.”
Bruce had wanted to eradicate the rot at the core of their society. Part of her wondered if conquering Prometheus would truly help in doing that, but at least the children were safe now – the last group, at least. How many had died in service of the Russian Realm, never to see their parents again?
“Why didn’t you just resign?” Lana whispered.
“I wanted to make sure I’d be able to support you and your mother. We were all so used to a life of luxury – if I gave up the family business, I’d be giving up more than just our fortune. I’d be a nobody,” he finished hollowly. “Well, that happened anyway.”
“How does it feel?” she asked, a hint of bitterness in her voice.
“It’s a relief.” Her father shrugged sheepishly.
“If they ever recapture that moon, they won’t give it back to me. I’m a disgrace to the Realm, apparently. Randall should never have been able to cheat his way in. Which is true, of course – he’d never have succeeded if it weren’t for your access codes.”
Alen cleared his throat behind them. “Could you tell us what’s going on, Mr. Ivanov?” he politely asked. “We’re all eager to hear your side of the story.”
Unintentionally, they’d lapsed into speaking Russian. Of course, Alen and Tori understood, but Nicolas and Ava didn’t.
As they all sat down around the garden table, Lana’s father confessed to his crimes. He looked ashen, deflated, but also massively relieved. “I’ll have to lead a quiet life from now on,” he finished with a feeble smile. “The Russians want me in prison. Going back to Ganymede is out of the question.”
Lana wiped away a few tears. No longer would she be able to visit her mother’s grave in Novi Moscow – the place would probably be under constant surveillance, what with the Russian authorities hoping to catch her father. At least her fake name and passport were still intact. Nobody knew of her whereabouts. “Maybe you can come and live with me,” she said. “On Desida One.”
Her father shook his head. “Aataaq is a good man, but he has obligations to the Realm. Plus, Yeltsin is stationed there. I’d be arrested in no time.”
“Can’t the two of you live on Desida Two?” Ava suggested, glancing over at Alen. “Can they? Commander Kelso is completely impartial, right?”
Alen tapped his chin with his index finger. “I think he might grant you asylum,” he told Mr. Ivanov. “As for you –,” he pointed at Lana, “you could be transferred from station One to Two by special request, and keep your pseudonym. With a bit of luck, no one will ever link you to your father. But I’d tell Kelso just in case. He can keep a secret.”
“Shit.” Lana veered up in her chair. “What am I gonna tell Mr. Stockton? I never made it to Nuuk, but if I tell him why not, he’ll find out who I am.”
“We took care of that,” Tori said with a little smile. “We said we were attacked by pirates and the ship was adrift due to engine and comm failure for days. It was, actually – you were just not on it. Captain Blanco swore to keep his mouth shut, too.”
Lana sagged back in her chair. “Well, that was a very short career. Are there any vacancies in the Business and Trade Department on Desida Two?”
Her friend nodded. “Actually, there’s some pretty exciting stuff going on at the station. Not trade-related, but definitely business.”
As Tori softly chattered on, Lana slipped her hand into her father’s and let her mind wander. Her life would be completely different from now on. She’d have to make sure she landed a well-paid job on Desida Two – they were no longer rich, and her father would most likely try to live the rest of his life in obscurity, hoping the Russian Elite would one day leave him alone. As long as Commander Kelso granted him asylum, nobody would touch him, but it’d be hard. Mr. Ivanov wasn’t used to being confined and poor. There was a bumpy road ahead.
Would she ever meet Bruce again? Probably not. He’d made it very clear why they shouldn’t stay in touch, and if she was completely honest with herself, he was right. Maybe she’d see his face on the news sometimes. She prayed to whatever God was listening that he wouldn’t be arrested or killed in the war he’d started to take Prometheus. Even though he’d done terrible things, she didn’t think he deserved to be in prison. Not anymore. By saving those children, he’d redeemed himself and come clean with a darker past in which he’d forgotten why he was fighting in the first place.
If only she could tell him her thoughts. She was convinced it would bring one of those rare, genuine faint smiles to his face. A smile she had come to appreciate.
18.
It took Lana a few more days to recover and feel strong enough to travel to Desida Two. As expected, Commander Kelso hadn’t hesitated granting the Ivanovs asylum. He’d gotten her a temporary job in Space Exploration, and her dad was all set to help the scientists in the brand new Geotechnology lab. If anything, he knew his soil types.
In the meantime, reports of the scandal surrounding Ivanov Mining Industries were beginning to float around the web. Somehow, the German edition of the Martian Herald had managed to get a hold of the videos Bruce had paid a fortune for, exposing the lies of the Russian and British governments. Still, the war raged on. Prometheus partly belonged to the Brits, so they had gotten involved too. Sutton was buzzing with talk about a revolution – overthrowing the current Elite government and replacing them with democratically-chosen representatives of both sides, common and Elite, was the talk of the town. Ava and Nicolas were out during the day, busying themselves with calming down some of the more belligerent Suttoners. Lana knew the townspeople were hoping Nicolas would step up and do something to call the corrupt British Elite to order and find like-minded Elitists to call for justice. Since he was married to Ava, another icon of commoner-Elite collaboration in these regions, he was the uncrowned prince of a new, Earth-focused movement crying out for change.
The evening before Lana and Anatoly Ivanov were scheduled to fly out to their new home on board a slow cruiser, Lana bumped into Ava and Tori sitting in the garden, tending a fire.
“You want some?” Tori pointed at the chestnuts she and Ava were roasting above the fire.
“Of course.” Lana sat down next to Ava, picking up a few chestnuts from the plate in her lap. “Thanks.”
As the fire hissed and popped, the girls fell silent. In the past few days, they’d all talked so much about the state of the world and what was to be done that Lana had been able to dodge the subject of her and Bruce, but she knew Tori would bring it up again sooner or later.
Surprisingly enough, Ava was the one with the opening move. “So, you and that rebel pirate, huh?” she said quietly.
Lana gulped down the cotton ball stuck in her throat. “It’s nothing,” she deflected.
“Is that why you watch every news item with him in it?” Tori commented, munching on a chestnut. “Or why you keep that old smart phone charged and next to your bed every night?”
Lana turned red. Nothing got by her friend – she was keeping the phone close by because it reminded her of her time at the Randall house, and because Bruce knew how to contact her on that phone. “I don’t have my pad,” she mumbled.
“Sure.”
With a frustrated sigh, Lana threw the shells of her peeled chestnuts in the brazier, watching the flames licking them slowly away. “I don’t want to talk about this. Bruce told me I would never see him again. Besides, he’s dangerous, and the whole thing is impossible.”
“You like him?” Tori asked, gently putting a hand on Lana’s shoulder.
Once upon a time, she’d been too scared of him to truly like him, but things were different now. “Yes.” The word was out, and there was no way to undo it.
“I know all about impossible love,” Ava chimed in calmly. “And I’ll be the last one to judge you for liking someone you’re not supposed to like.”
Tori sighed. “Well said, Ava. Ditto for me. Besides, Bruce may be a dangerous criminal, but thanks to him we’ve seen some long-overdue changes in the upper echelons of society.”
“Well, according to Alen, Bruce never meant to do that,” Lana said a bit sourly. “He’s only interested in money, remember?”
Tori chuckled. “Alen can be pigheaded sometimes.”
“Ooh, is the glow of love wearing off?”
“No. I’m just being realistic.” Tori patted her back. “And so should you. It’s pretty hard to love a man on the run from the authorities in the entire solar system. You’ve gotta keep that in mind.”
“I’m not in love with him,” Lana objected. “I just – miss him.”
Tori’s face turned serious. “Didn’t he hurt you?”
“Yes, he did. But most of that was not against my will, Vitusya.” Lana bit her lip. “In a way, I seduced him. Not the other way around.”
“Wow. That’s brave.”
“Funny. That’s what he said.” Lana smiled faintly.
They all stared into the flames, contemplating the things that would happen in the near future. Ava was trying to get the commoners from Sutton organized into more than just a riot-instigating group of loudmouths, assisted by her husband and her best friend Georgie. Tori and Alen would be going back to Desida Two on the same cruiser, both of them involved in a project set up by some Desidan officials to investigate the Saturnian wormhole. And Lana was going to assist them, making sure representatives from all countries and alliances had equal opportunities to access the black hole as a portal once they’d established it was safe to use for travel.
There’d be plenty of work to keep her mind off Bruce.
“Well, here we go,” Lana said as she boarded the cruiser docked at the spaceport near Old London the next morning. She shot her dad an anxious smile.
“Still nervous about traveling through space?” he laughed. “We’ll be fine.”
“To be fair, Mr. Ivanov, last time she traveled by spaceship, she was kidnapped,” Tori remarked drily.
“That won’t happen now. Mr. Randall has got his hands full.”
This morning’s headlines had screamed VICTORY FOR REBELS in every newspaper. Apparently, more commoner rebels from Amalthea and Mimas had joined Bruce’s war effort, keeping the Russian and British armies at bay in the Promethean region. As a result, Desida Two had left its usual orbit because it was too close to Prometheus. Commander Kelso had used the on-board thrusters to move the space station away from the war zone and closer to Saturn’s G-ring.
“I’m not worried about being kidnapped,” Lana reassured her father. “Just – flying does.”
“You should take flying lessons,” Alen said with a smile. “You might feel more comfortable when you’re at the helm.”