Tales from the Edge: Escalation: A Maelstrom's Edge Collection

by Stephen Gaskell

  The tragedy was Gabe could have gone anywhere. His father had been a Master Bot Handler. In school, Gabe had pursued an identical career. Given his father's reputation, he could have accepted comfortable positions on Chandor, Kylie or Bezerra VI. He'd had his pick of the best, yet even before he met Brook, he'd felt a bond here that he hadn't felt with any of the rich worlds his father told him to call home.

  Blue was more land than water and possessed a slightly higher than normal gravity of 1.2g. Four supercontinents contained its single ocean, although there were innumerable rivers and seas. Locked in an Ice Age that had lasted twenty thousand years, Blue took its name from its broad polar ice caps, its glaciers, and the dark granite spines of its scattered mountains. Most of the surface consisted of swamps or dry plains or long, long reaches of frozen tundra.

  From orbit, Blue resembled a pale sapphire... but like an obstinate child resisting its heritage, Blue masked its resources in turmoil.

  Hurricane-force dust and snow storms roared over the plains. There was little vegetation outside its shallow waters, so the atmosphere wasn't quite breathable. Most of the colonists lived in the warmest zones on the equator, no matter if these areas were the least stable. Eons of temperature changes and erosion had fractured the rocky ground, leaving sinkholes and tidal flats and smoking volcanic pits.

  The warmer regions also contained the "blue snakes," the true natives, ten-meter-long eels with millipede-like legs and pinchers. Snakes meant money. Money meant electronics, meds, weapons and satellite privileges from the Franchise.

  The first settlers had been elated by the wealth of the environment. Too late, they realized Blue's wealth was shallow indeed. During the current generation, the economy had stagnated, which amplified their stubborn insular pride. A few settlers belonged to a religious order who saw Blue's isolation as a pathway to commune with their gods. Most were hunters and trappers.

  The snakes came in three breeds: banded, spotted and mule. Their leather was more supple than the vat-grown synthetics of the Epirian Foundation, and, decades ago, many of the developed worlds had experienced a nostalgic interest in "authentic pioneer foods and art." Markets existed for fish and crabmeat delicacies, monkwood carvings, snake skin and snake teeth.

  In its wide mouth, each snake bore dozens of lightweight fangs. These teeth could be fashioned into earrings or necklaces or bracelets, yet the income enjoyed by the first settlers had dried up as the snakes dwindled. Some families became ranchers, raising snakes in captivity. Some turned to high-risk, long-distance hunting. Some built farms or restaurants or mech shops... and some became bandits and crooks, preying on their own kind.

  Gabe loved everything about Blue. Hard work. Cold wind. Dangerous renegades and devoted friends. Brook was a tough, capable woman with a secret warmth only for him and their sons, who were forged from the same mettle.

  On Blue, treasure was well-earned unlike the easily-gained accomplishments on choice worlds like Bezerra VI or Chandor.

  He had one regret. Chandor was 119.8 lightyears rimward. The Maelstrom wouldn't strike it for many lifetimes. If he'd gone there, fallen in love there, started a family there, his sons wouldn't face dying young.

  Blue had two cybel gates. The gate to Hoy had been demolished to prevent the Maelstrom from vaulting through. The other led a short distance rimward to the Dury System.

  Dury IV was an industrialized world operated by a rival Franchise with a far superior military. Its population was 5.8 billion. Singh had negotiated safe passage for her fleet but Dury IV refused to complicate their own evacuation by rescuing the disorganized, nearly tribal factions on Blue.

  "Gabe?" she asked.

  He had been wringing his hands as he pretended to consider her offer. At last, he lifted his face with haunted eyes. "I'll do it. I'll go alone."

  The lie would ensure that he could enter the port and reassess their ships during the following days. If he wasn't on the approved list, she would never clear him through security even if he invented reasons to come and go.

  "Don't tell my family," he said. "I... I can just show up when it's time. Meanwhile I'll make myself useful. I'll get genetic samples from every species on Blue. If I can, I'll also negotiate more food from the settlements."

  Singh might have sensed his duplicity. "Are you sure about this?"

  Gabe acted like he choked on his guilt. "Yes."

  "Then let me tell you something else. It's information you can trade for supplies."

  "Yes, ma'am." Gabe would say whatever Singh wanted to hear, but he thought, I'll kill everyone on this base before I leave my sons behind.

  *

  Five soldiers in battle armour escorted Gabe through the fence. Outside, they returned his pistol and his spikes. Waiting for him was a battered truck. Once upon a time, the cab had been pressurized. It was still heated but the man inside its pitted glass wore a jacket with a hood, gloves, goggles and mask.

  Feathery snow undulated down from the highest layers of the atmosphere, wafting through the heavier salt mist. Gabe hopped into the truck and shut the door.

  Sitting at the wheel, Elliot Tiras grunted with the long-tested patience of a native. Gabe's father-in-law was 48 like Singh but looked 60, his features seamed and burned. He'd sired his girls young. Some things didn't wait on Blue.

  Elliot put away the binoculars he'd used to assess the port. He started the engine and they drove in silence through the grey mist and white snow, watching the plains until they'd gone two klicks from the port, the known range of Franchise microphones. Elliot threw the heater on high to increase the rattling inside the cab. "She make an offer?" he asked.

  "They'll take me. Only me. I said yes."

  "Good."

  "I think we can steal the freighter on Pad 4."

  "Then what? Even if we get off the ground, we're trapped in-system. A freighter can't open the gate by itself."

  "She said the crew at the gate station has already jumped through, but they left their systems up. She said the station will pass all ships on approach."

  "Why would they do that?"

  "There's no point saving energy now, and Singh doesn't want any fighting near the gate." His buddy Christian wasn't the only one with a private ship outside the port. Gabe knew four hunters and two prospectors with spacecraft.

  These people had dropped out of sight. On the net and through word-of-mouth, they were carefully evaluating who to take and at what price. Gabe thought they'd stay on Blue until Singh departed, at which point they'd use her fleet for cover. Everyone expected trouble on the other side, where Dury IV might confiscate their ships.

  Gabe said, "Singh can't afford to bottle us up until she's gone. That will be soon. Then she'll destroy the gate."

  "How long?"

  "She said six days. Let's assume we have one. We need to involve the girls, Elliot." That was how the old man referred to Brook and Danna -- the girls -- and his grandsons were the boys as if all of them were children. The girls disliked the term but Gabe used it to gain favour when he spoke privately with his father-in-law.

  "We will not discuss our plans with them," Elliot growled.

  Gabe didn't reply.

  "Do you hear me? This will end in violence. There may be killing. Involving the girls is unacceptable."

  Gabe looked out the windshield at the distant blue expanse of the north sea, a flat patch of colour nestled among the grey plains. Elliot was deeply protective. He was also pragmatic. He would work his way around to Gabe's point of view. They'd had enough shouting matches and Blue's culture was more than evolving. It was over.

  In the wilderness, many activities had been traditionally male. Women hunted and women fished, but they were denied the roughest jobs. Among the original settlers, the casualty rate had exceeded forty percent. Even now deaths were common.

  Storms sprang up with little warning. Quakes opened the ground. Occasionally the snakes took someone.

  Their society had been shaped by their world. The land was bare
gravel and rock except where ancient sea beds had emerged, and plants couldn't grow in the subzero wind. Soil was brought inside. The crops were tended by women, children, the old and the infirm... and before Blue's second generation was born, matriarchs served as the settlements' judges and mayors.

  Other customs fell in place. They induced twins to minimize how long mothers would be vulnerable. Groom prices let men compete for the most desirable brides. Both spouses kept their surnames to boast of their genealogy, bestowing the mother's lineage upon their offspring.

  Brook had gone against tradition when she gave native first names to their sons with Gabe's surname. She'd hoped Mike and Van Cienfuegos would eventually leave Blue to attend Franchise universities.

  Elliot considered her decision a rebellion. For years, he and Gabe had sparred like crabs.

  Now they clung to each other like drowning men.

  As they drove into sight of Sharonstown, Elliot shifted in his seat, obviously grappling with himself.

  Sharonstown looked like a sunken hill. They'd blasted into the rock before raising a concrete dome peppered with skylights. The dome had lumps on its sides where they'd expanded over time. Housing more than five hundred people, the patchwork roof contained individual homes, warehouse-sized farms, ranches and shops. Ramps led down to air locks for people and trucks.

  Elliot cleared his throat and said, "I'll talk to Danna. You talk to Brook. I know four men with ships. There are others who could help us attack the port. Ask around, tap your friends, but take care what you say to my girls."

  "I will, Elliot."

  "Don't disappoint me, boy."

  *

  That night inside the walls of their home, Gabe stopped Brook from clearing the dinner table. He insisted she join him as he read a favourite story to their sons. Mike and Van went to sleep. In the short hall from the bedrooms to the kitchen, Brook whispered, "I'll get the dishes."

  Gabe said, "Don't bother. Don't waste a minute."

  He explained Singh's offer. Brook sat on his lap and wept, although her tears were brief. She wiped her face and got to work, a no-nonsense woman who could lead a farm crew or set a broken bone or strip a rifle.

  "The dishes don't matter!" Gabe hissed.

  "They do. I like the place clean." She made him desert. As she stood at the sink washing clay dishes and steel cups, she said, "I want you to sleep with my sister tonight."

  Gabe froze over his bowl of fruit. The wind was a muffled howl on the roof. He watched her scrubbing and clinking. Finally he cleared his throat, half-consciously adopting her father's gruff mannerisms. "What?"

  Brook wouldn't meet his gaze, although she smiled at the dishes. "You heard me. Sleep with Danna tonight."

  "I don't... Why?"

  "Ever since we met, I've seen you two trading looks, flirting when you think I can't hear. And I need you to defend her like you'd defend me."

  "Brook, everything I've done involves Danna."

  "I know. But things will get worse. There was another shooting in Kerrystown. I need you to love her like you love me. She'll be here soon. I called her while you were at the port. She laughed like she does when she's nervous. Me, too. We should have done this years ago."

  "You're insane."

  "No, sweetheart, just the opposite. I'm feeling very, very sane. Hold me." She dried her hands and he obeyed. "This is more than needing you to protect Danna like you'd protect me. I need her to love you like I do before she does something scary. I'm worried she'll disappear with one of her stupid boyfriends."

  They kissed. She pressed her body against him, but he was distracted. He was listening for a knock on the door. As always, Danna was late. That girl couldn't get out of bed on time if she slept in the tides, Elliot said.

  Brook and Gabe nuzzled and touched and she stopped him, breathing hard. "Not me," she said. "Her."

  "I've never done anything to cheat on you."

  "You're attracted to Danna. Don't say you aren't. I'm not mad." She continued to whisper as she held him, and their circumstances weren't impossible to comprehend.

  The sisters were identical twins, although their personalities were distinct and Danna was the most beautiful. After having her children, Danna had spent more time regaining her figure than she'd spent working or raising her boys, who, when they were both alive, were more rambunctious than Mike. After the death of his brother, Jammy had grown even less disciplined.

  "It's normal for you to want her," Brook said. "She's me. I mean she's like me. I wish we were closer. When we were kids, we did everything together until our father gave us jobs on the farm. He asked me to repair the irrigation. Danna had to weed. She hated it, hated me, I think, but we didn't really lose her until the blowout killed her son."

  "She's a grown woman. We can't stop her if..." If she prefers parties and drugs, he thought.

  "We can keep her safe with this. You and I and her. Don't you see? I love my sister. I know she's frustrating. She's clever, too, and Jammy is brilliant and strong. If Danna joins the parties, what happens to him?"

  Someone rapped on the door. Brook pinched Gabe. Spitefully? Playfully? He couldn't read her expression, and she danced out of reach before he could stop her.

  Maybe he let her go.

  Brook didn't look at her sister when she opened the door. Brook walked into the communal hallway with her eyes down and said, "I'll work for a couple hours at the farm."

  Danna stepped inside, her cheeks burnished by the cold. She grinned and teased him with a nickname. "Hey, G."

  *

  Gabe had been delighted by Blue's exotic customs when he arrived on a two-year exploratory contract. He'd joined the men's spring marathons and winter boxing matches, vying for the ladies' attention. At meals, his advantage was speaking about the concerns of terraforming while the rest of the men had the same experiences in construction or trapping or ranching. Also, Gabe's attire included a Zycanthus vest and slacks while the other men wore identical leather. More than one young woman had watched him or kissed him or taken him to bed.

  That wasn't why he extended his contract. He'd re-upped for his own sake -- and because his father disapproved. Blue wasn't at the top of anyone's list, which allowed Gabe to bid for and win the opportunity to improve its atmosphere.

  His goal was to design a hardy chemoautotroph -- a type of bacteria -- that would split water molecules as an energy source and release oxygen as its byproduct. The snakes and other lifeforms were water-breathers, so they would thrive regardless of the changes he enacted in the sky.

  Then his plans grew more ambitious. During his third year, he became convinced Blue was ripe for large-scale development as an agricultural breadbasket. In its silted regions, the soil was flush. If he thickened and warmed Blue's atmosphere, Hoy and Dury IV were perfect trading partners: overpopulated worlds in need of cheap, expanding food supplies.

  Everyone believed three or four centuries would pass before the Maelstrom encompassed Blue.

  Four hundred years were an eternity. Maybe the shockwaves would putter out. Maybe someone could reverse the holocaust or invent the technology to divert it around inhabited worlds.

  If so, Gabe's heirs would recoup his investment as agricultural and real estate tycoons -- and if not, they would also find themselves well-positioned. Food prices would skyrocket as the Maelstrom approached.

  With their planetwide empire, they could use their wealth to construct a small fleet.

  Rule a fleet, rule a refugee nation. Wherever they fled, his grandchildren would be admirals or governors. They would have the freedom his father never truly allowed him.

  Gutting his inheritance, Gabe had bought huge sections of the shores and river basins on the northern continent. Scouting more locations, he'd nosed around the settlers' farms to tap their knowledge and develop contacts.

  Elliot Tiras and his daughters ran the largest operation near the port. In addition to feeding Sharonstown and surrounding camps for a hundred kilometres, they sold grain to the Fr
anchise, so they were slightly more cosmopolitan than other natives since they dealt with offworlders, albeit mostly by radio and phone. Mech carried their shipments to the port. They rarely interacted personally with Singh.

  An adventurous stranger, Gabe should have been a good fit for Danna. Brook was the "older sister" because she'd emerged from the womb fourteen minutes before Danna. Raised as the firstborn, Brook had a cool head whereas Danna was a daydreamer who'd experimented with vegetarian diets or attempts to market her fashion styles or establish a bar where people could sell homemade alcohol for a percentage paid to the establishment. All of Danna's big ideas collapsed. She couldn't resist crab meat; her dresses required unaffordable cloth from the port; the alcoholics in the settlement had hang-outs where they weren't required to pay for lighting or music; and at times she was too busy with her own drinking to stick with any plan.

  Brook chided Danna about her boondoggles even though she admired Danna's imagination. Meanwhile Danna seethed at Brook's condescension and mocked her predictable, boring nature. In their teens, Brook resisted the advances of local hunters, intending to marry a farmer or a merchant or a Franchise administrator. Danna sought out more exciting men to take her away from the farm.

  That the cautious older sister hooked up with Gabe had been a shock to everyone. Nobody thought he would stay on Blue. As a contractor, Gabe had seemed like a mercenary who was passing through. Ironically, he'd gotten to know Brook because she was the diligent one, always working when he visited whereas Danna was busy with her dreams or her dates or her drinking.

  Danna had one boy, Jammy, who was nine. Eight years ago, her husband and second son died when their tent lost pressure in a quake. She had been in mourning when Gabe arrived, although deaths were common among the hunting camps on the north sea where her husband had been a fisherman.