by M. D. Cooper
Tanis found it ironic that the conversation was conducted via technology the Intrepid had provided. The Victoria colony would not exist at all without the colony ship’s assistance—though to hear Kim’s generation speak you’d think it existed in spite of the Edeners.
“That sure is a sour look,” Joe said as he entered the kitchen where Tanis was preparing breakfast.
“It was Kim,” Tanis replied.
“Ah, the ever-antagonistic Kim,” Joe gave Tanis a long embrace. “Just a few more years and we’ll be on our way. They can lust after our advanced technology in our absence.”
Tanis relaxed into Joe, glad for his calm and unflappable attitude.
“I’m really starting to wonder if things might get ugly before we leave the system,” Tanis said. “The original crew of the Hyperion did not pass their stoic attitudes on to their descendants. Without Markus to be the voice of reason…”
She found herself thinking back to her final conversation with Markus.
“I’ve seen enough life,” Markus had said. “I did more than any of my ancestors did, or dreamed of doing. We have a new world here, and we’re prospering. I was an old man when I met you and your doctors gave me another half century of life—the best I’ve ever had, but it’s time to pass the reins on to the next generation.”
“You’re going to be missed,” Tanis remembered a tear slipping down her face as she held a wizened Markus’s hand. “I don’t know how we’ll manage without you keeping things steady.”
Markus had given a rough laugh when she said that.
“I don’t think there is anything you can’t manage, General Richards. I’ve seen you tackle some pretty impossible odds over the years. People believe in amazing things, just because you do.”
“I could say the same thing about you,” Tanis replied.
“I’m going to rest a bit,” Markus patted her hand gently. “Can you have them find Katrina? I need to see her…”
Tanis felt a tear coming to her eye again as she thought back to that conversation. Markus was one of the strongest people she had ever known. She was going to miss him for a long time.
Markus died several hours after that conversation.
“Maybe planetside they might get unruly, but up here they have more in common with us,” Joe said, taking her hands in his. “We’ve built a good thing here. We saved a people and gave them a future they could never have dreamed of. It was never going to be perfect—not unless we decided to stay and fully integrate.”
“I know,” Tanis sighed. “The very fact that we’re leaving—even if we gave them every advanced piece of tech and knowledge we possess—would still be cause enough for unrest. The signs are there, people are jealous of us, even after we pushed their standard of living ahead by centuries. Their government isn’t doing much to smooth things over.”
Joe nodded. “I know. Every year at the academy I have to do more and more to turn cadets into team members. It’s like they’ve been brainwashed.”
Tanis shook her head and sighed. “I’ve seen it often enough; we’re skirting the edge of a conflict.”
“Surely Tom knows it’s not in his best interests to do that.”
Tom was in his third term as president of the Victoria colony. The son of Sarah and Peter, Tanis still remembered when she first saw him as a newborn baby during the celebration for the station and beanstalk.
He wasn’t nearly as agreeable now as he had been then. Tanis could see a lot of his mother’s influence in him.
Sarah had never been particularly agreeable, but when an act of sabotage had taken Peter’s life she became downright hostile. She blamed the death of her husband on Tanis and the Intrepid.
Tanis had to admit that to a certain extent Sarah was right. The threads of Myrrdan’s influence were visible in a number of events over the years. She knew that his goal was to drive a wedge between the two peoples, keep her off-balance as he searched for the location of the picotech.
Sarah knew of Myrrdan and blamed Tanis for never catching him and for bringing his blight to her people. Tanis thought that by and large the tradeoff worked in the Victorian’s favor.
“What Tom knows to be in his best interests and what he actually does often seem at odds. Even if he doesn’t start anything, I wouldn’t put it past elements of his government. Either way I’ve been planning for something like this for decades.”
“I know,” Joe laughed. “I remember reviewing your initial contingencies thirty years ago.”
“Thirt—really?” Tanis consulted her temporal calendar.
“You’re two-hundred,” Joe said before Tanis finished her conversation with Angela.
“I am?” Tanis was shocked. She knew that her bicentennial was coming up, but thought it was still a few years off. “How do you know?”
Joe laughed and embraced his wife. “Because I keep a calendar too.”
“They aren’t lying when they say life accelerates as you get older,” Tanis sighed.
Tanis and Joe wolfed down the remainder of their breakfast, checked their dress uniforms over one last time, and exited the cabin. Outside a groundcar waited and drove them to the nearest maglev station.
They entered the forward hanger with a few minutes to spare and walked up the pinnace’s ramp in companionable silence.
Commandant Brandt was speaking with two Marines at the top of the ramp. The diminutive woman stood at attention and snapped a sharp salute—mirrored by the two Marines—as Tanis approached.
“General,” she nodded a greeting.
Joe and Tanis returned the salutes.
“Commandant, men,” Tanis said. “Thank you for coming today.”
“It’s our honor,” PFC Ramos said and PFC Sarin nodded his agreement.
Ramos and Sarin were members of the first platoon Tanis had put together as the Intrepid left Sol. Both had seen action with Brandt and Ouri when they fought the rogue AI on the Intrepid and were in the party that boarded Yusuf’s cruiser in the battle of Victoria.
They had put their lives at risk for the mission many times, they deserved their place here.
“As you were,” she said and continued into the pinnace.
The two squad military honor guard was another thing Tom had fought Tanis on, but Katrina had come to Tanis’s defense.
“Intrepid Marines fought to save us from Yusuf. They should have representation here,” Tanis recalled her saying.
Katrina had turned into quite the diplomat over the years, though, as a former spy, it was closer to her training than it was for Tanis.
Earnest was away at the Gamma site, but Abby was present, already seated in the well-appointed passenger cabin.
Tanis gave the chief engineer a silent nod.
They got along well enough now, but their relationship had never recovered from that day beneath the annihilator. Tanis held her no ill will, but for Abby a seventy-year grudge was just the warm-up.
Terrance and Andrews were seated at the cabin’s central table and Tanis joined them. Joe moved off to poke his head into the cockpit—the pilots being graduates of his academy.
“Tanis,” Terrance said by way of greeting.
“Lieutenant Governor,” Andrews spoke with a gentle smile. “How are you?”
“As well as can be expected, I suppose,”
Tanis said. “Though I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
“You prefer General?” Terrance asked.
“I’m pretty sure she was happiest with Colonel,” Joe said as he joined them at the table. “But she needs to outrank me, so General will have to do.”
Tanis sighed. “Thanks hon, that’s just the reputation I need.”
“Governor suits you,” Terrance said. “You’ve done remarkably well—it’s hard to imagine you’re the same woman who shot up the Steel Dawn on her first day. Everyone said you’d be trouble, but look at you now.”
“You two made me wear this mantle,” Tanis wagged a finger at Terrance and Andrews as she spoke. “You made me wear it and then went to sleep for decades. I never signed on to be a politician…I never…” She stopped and gazed down at her hands for a moment.
“He was a great advisor to me…he was almost—he had a strength of character I’ve rarely seen. I’m sorry I’m testy, I’m just going to miss him.”
“I never spent as much time with him as you did, but he made a lasting impression. Just the thought of flying that mining platform between the stars. That took some serious guts,” Andrews said appreciatively.
“I’m sorry, Tanis,” Terrance said. “I didn’t mean to upset—I meant it as a compliment. I rather thought you liked being in charge.”
Tanis opened her mouth to speak and Joe put a hand on her arm.
"Choose your next words wisely, they’ll likely come back to haunt you.”
Luckily Tanis was saved from having to reply by the arrival of Jessica and Trist. The pair were out of breath and smiling far too much for the occasion.
“Sorry,” Trist said. “Took a wrong turn on the way here.”
Tanis rolled her eyes as they sat. “Somehow I find it hard to believe that you don’t know your way around the ship by now.”
“It’s each other that they’re busy mapping all the time,” Joe said quietly and received a jab from Tanis.
“Don’t elbow me, I saw that smirk.”
“I can’t help it,” Trist said with a smile. “Her new skin is so smooth and shiny; it probably needs a lot of mapping.”
Jessica flushed ever so slightly and Tanis gave her a head shake. Never before had she met such a serious and capable person who was bent on turning herself into sex object.
After the battle with the Sirian scout ships, Jessica had suffered extreme cellular damage from the radiation exposure and her skin had to be completely replaced. While new skin was being grown the doctors gave her a temporary, artificial skin.
Jessica decided she liked the artificial skin and kept it, enhancing its sheen and softness—giving it a slight lavender hue. Combined with her exaggerated figure and purple hair she really did look like a life-sized doll.
With the last passengers aboard, the pilots gained clearance and the pinnace rose above the deck and passed out of the ES shield into space.
Light chatter floated throughout the cabin as the vessel began its descent toward the surface of Victoria. Tanis found herself with nothing to say and turned to stare out a port hole.
The progress of the terraforming effort was truly remarkable. In a scant sixty years a barren rock had turned into living world with oceans, seasons, vast grasslands, and even several fledgling forests.
The industriousness of the Victorians was truly impressive. Matched with the technology and know-how the Edeners brought, it was a true wonder.
A rock passed by her window and Tanis saw on her HUD that it was one of seventy-one asteroids currently in orbit around Victoria. In various states of disassembly, most would eventually be kicked out to distant orbits or dropped onto the world below to kick up dust and increase heat capture in the atmosphere.
Some consisted entirely of ice and Tanis saw that the R21 refinery had been moved to the latest ice-ball, extracting pure H2O and dropping it to the surface of the world below. The main ocean was nearly filled and the refinery was creating a second, smaller ocean that crossed over the western side of the dusk band.
The large ocean was named Nautilus and the smaller had recently been christened the Atlantic. The Nautilus had warmed significantly over the decades of exposure to the Kap’s ruddy light; the thin wisps of vapor Tanis had witnessed decades ago as she rode the Excelsior to Landfall were now thick clouds, their white bands wrapped around the equator of the planet—driven by winds which often reached several hundred kilometers per hour.
As the pinnace circled around the world, a massive hurricane building in the north of the Nautilus Ocean came into view. It was easily the size of all the continents of Earth combined. Such massive storms would be the norm for many years as the world’s temperature equalized.
The new band of weather control satellites would cut down on their frequency, but even so, weather was always going to be exciting on Victoria.
Tanis found herself filling with pride at what they had built here. It was no mean feat to terraform a world like this and they would be able to leave it for generations of Victorians who would otherwise have never known the feel of a planet beneath them.
The pinnace raced above the clouds and Tanis tried to peer through them. When she finally was able to see through, massive breakers were visible, some hundreds of meters high—the result of the water pouring down from the refinery above.
A dull thud echoed through the cabin as the vessel dropped into atmosphere thick enough to create a sonic boom. The pilots began aero braking the pinnace for its approach into the Landfall spaceport.
She heard the pilots communicating with the ATC from the cockpit, the call-counter-call heralded the approach of the ocean’s eastern shores. It was a thing of beauty and wonder to see the massive waves pounding the earth, throwing spray a thousand meters into the air.
The pinnace passed over the spectacle in mere moments, a ruined landscape slowly giving way to the low scrub of the eastern desert.
Eventually the desert gave way to grasslands and then to bushland. To the north, the dark line of a forest appeared and then faded away in the distance.
It was a strange thing to see the brown plants growing and flourishing in the red sunlight. Tanis had to admit she was glad New Eden orbited a yellow primary. Something about plants that weren’t green was unnerving.
The craggy mountain range north of Landfall eased into view and Tanis pulled up a forward view over the Link, looking ahead for the domes of Landfall.
The small outpost had grown considerably over the intervening decades, its population surpassing two million inhabitants.
Tanis remembered the naïve estimations that had projected a Victorian population of a quarter million. The Victorian people bred with a passion—finally free from generations of strict population control.
The total system population was now at nearly five million. Three of which resided on Victoria, a million on the Tara colony, and another million on stations and orbital habitats.
It was quickly becoming a well-populated system.
While much of Landfall was still underground, it now sported several massive ES domes—something now feasible with the planet sporting a half-atmosphere near the equator.
The main dome covered the new government buildings, a university, thousands of homes, businesses and no small number of parks.
One of the dome’s properties was to enhance and alter the sunlight so that it took on a golden hue and plants utilizing green photosynthesis could thrive.
Refineries and manufacturing plants crouched beyond the domes, adding greenhouse gasses to the atmosphere and producing materials to expand the city.
Beyond that, east and into the deep dusk, lay the space and air ports.
The pinnace bucked as it dropped lower and passed into a crosswind. Anywhere else the winds buffeting the pinnace would be considered a navigation-blocking storm, but the pilots who dropped down into Victorian atmosphere referred to this as nothing more than a breezy day.
The final approach was swift and the pilot settled the pinna
ce gently on a landing pad, while three groundcars drove up. The passengers exited the ship and spaceport ground personnel guided the passengers to their transportation. In minutes the procession was wending its way toward the city.
The funeral was to be held at a place Markus frequented in life, the city’s first above-ground park. It would take thirty minutes to arrive and Tanis settled back in her seat, her hand clasped with Joe’s.
The streets neat the spaceport were silent and empty; but as the procession passed through the dome and neared the park, silent mourners were dotted the corners and sidewalks, clustered together in small groups. The park was only large enough for a few hundred people, and Tanis knew that other gatherings were taking place throughout Landfall.
Tanis felt their sorrow more keenly than she expected. She had lost many comrades; seen many heads of state, or great heroes of humankind pass away; but for some reason seeing the sheer number of people who felt as she did about a quiet man who did the right thing hit her the hardest.
The park’s soaring trees came into view—their tops swaying gently in the small amount of wind which passed through the ES dome. The cars stopped and the party disembarked.
The walk through the park was serene and calming. Tanis clasped Joe’s hand and few words were spoken by the Intrepid’s delegation.
They approached the glade where the funeral was being held and ushers led them to seats right behind Markus’s immediate family.
Katrina was already there and turned to clasp hands with each person as they filed in. The casket bearing Markus’s body was at the front and Tanis walked to it, gazing down at the old man she had come to know so well.
Even though Markus had not reached his one hundred and fortieth birthday she couldn’t deny what her eyes saw: the casket held the body of an old man who had lived decades fewer than her. The tragedy of it was nearly unbearable. He was so selfless, had only ever sacrificed for his people and never done evil. He was too young to die.
“Thank you for coming,” Katrina’s voice was soft beside Tanis. “I know Tom tried to control the attendees.”