by Mark Wandrey
“So why am I taking a five percent cut in my budget?”
“Research grants,” explained Dean Hurt. Minu glared at him, but with only a fraction of the animosity she reserved for the other money-grubbing bastards. After all, Ted had been her friend for a long time.
They'd been a package deal six years ago. She had come to run the new War College, and he'd become the new dean of the physical sciences department, replacing Katherine Diego who had died from, of all things, a skiing accident somewhere halfway across the galaxy. Minu had taken classes from her years ago. She'd been a fair and brilliant professor. The difference between Minu and Ted, was that Ted retired from the Chosen as an honorary four silver stars, while Minu was still active, but banished.
“For what?”
“Environmental research.”
“Oh.” That took the wind out of her sails. If there was anything worth picking her department’s pockets for it was that. Two years in a row, two record hot spells, and two major crop failures had devastated the planet. Only massive efforts led by the Chosen had saved thousands in the Peninsula tribe from starvation.
The thought of people starving to death in sight of Ft. Jovich sent chills up her spine. All over the planet, massive greenhouse construction projects were under way. The planetary leadership considered purchasing food offworld to be dealbreaker. Bad enough the planet was hooked on Concordia energy like a drug addict, without adding food to the list. “Is there anything my department can do?”
“Don't throw a fit over five percent?”
Minu blushed and nodded her head. “Sorry,” she said to them all, with a pointed glance at the sweaty face of the perpetually nervous chancellor, “I tend to be overprotective.”
“You think?” asked the bursar. Minu gave a little laugh and everyone relaxed, even the Chancellor. “Everyone knows what great work you are doing, Dean Groves, but you just have to believe there is a good reason if we cut back. All the departments contributed something when the hat went around, except yours.”
“I guess I didn't read all the details on that last budget.”
“Doesn't your assistant, Miss Beck, handle reviewing the budget?”
“Ariana has been out this month, her third baby.” A few knowing heads nodded around the room. Minu's longtime assistant who'd followed her from the Chosen was well known for her fruitful womb. “I was going to request a temp, but never got around to it.”
The meeting only lasted a few more minutes before breaking up. Minu caught Ted as the two strolled out onto the university quad. They both donned wide brimmed hats without thinking about it. The bright Julast sun, always brutal in Plateau, was much worse these last few years. Everyone knew why, but no-one wanted to talk about it.
“What's on your mind?” Ted asked her.
“Var'at asked if you could help him with the harvesting bots.”
Ted nodded and unconsciously looked up. As luck would have it, Remus was transacting the sky near the horizon so it wasn't washed out by the glaring disk of their sun. Its brilliant swirling green and blue seas of algae now held a dozen Rasa settlements, all living on floating towns that harvested the algae for off world sale.
They also did a thriving niche market in the disgusting little slimy invertebrates called squidge that fed on the algae. The Traaga and a couple other minor species considered them a delicacy. Minu though they reminded her of a shrimp covered in snot. Of course she found the Traaga equally obnoxious as well, so there was no accounting for taste.
“I can pop up there this weekend on the shuttle.” Ted scratched and shook his head. “The bots are a constant problem. The algae farms aren't affected by the solar radiation increase?'
“Not that he can tell. His scientists believe the algae evolved in these changing conditions and alter the albedo of the surface of the planet to compensate.”
“Makes sense. Those bots were a fine idea of Lilith's. She'd have been quite a good scientist herself.”
Minu nodded and then shrugged. “Problem?”
“Lilith has been kinda moody lately.”
“She is about fifteen, sixteen now, right? Even with her non-existent body fat, she's probably...becoming a woman.”
Minu gawked at him and shook her head. “As a woman you'd think that would be the first thing that came to my mind. She argues with me every chance she gets.”
“Bingo.”
“Stupid, Minu, stupid.”
She shook her head and squeezed Ted's hand. “I'll talk to her soon.”
Ted shrugged. “Why not come up with me when I go to Remus this weekend? We can bribe the pilot to stop off at the Kaatan.”
“Sure, why not? Aaron and I were going to go out, but he won't mind a chance to get some vacuum in his pants.” Ted chuckled and she shook her head.
“Is he doing okay?” he asked.
Minu turned somber and shrugged. “Retirement isn't treating him well. I think he's not really the sort to make business his life.”
“He's lucky to be alive after that crash.”
“Trust me, we know.”
* * *
Minu walked through the doors of the technology firm Groves Industries and nodded to the receptionist. The beautiful blond woman instantly recognized Minu and flashed her a huge smile. She idolized Minu and only took the usually annoying front door job because she got to chat with her from time to time. In years gone by Minu might have been annoyed by such juvenile worship, but she'd long since accepted it.
“Hello, Chosen Groves! How are you today?”
“I'm fine, Celeste.”
“You’re here early!”
“Yeah, wanted to surprise my man.”
“He’s in a design meeting, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Thanks.” Minu walked past her and through the computer controlled door. The passage recognized her ID implant and opened automatically.
Celeste watched the Chosen go and sighed. She’d tried twice to join, first in the Chosen Trials and again in a Rangers’ recruiting course. When neither of those worked out, she was forced to settle for being as close to them as she could. Working for Groves Industries was about as close as you could get without having to live by one of their far flung remote facilities.
Minu walked down the hallway, richly appointed with native hardwoods and digital images of projects finished, underway, or dreamed of. One wall was a long window overlooking the panoramic boardroom.
Inside were a dozen men and women along both sides of the huge table, all watching her husband Aaron give a presentation. The four walls of the long boardroom (even the window she looked through) were active displays that could be made transparent if desired. She could see the other three showing technical schematics and all sorts of figures. Aaron looked up from a chart he was explaining to see her standing there and cracked a big smile before turning back to his work. She let herself in as quietly as possible.
“The statistics are promising on the second generation drive adaptations,” he was explaining to the group of investors. “We anticipate going into production inside of six months.”
“Some of us believe you are being overconfident,” one man spoke up.
“The Chosen don't think so,” Minu said and all heads turned to see her there. To the last they all stood and bowed, offering their respects to arguably the most famous Chosen in history. She gave a small bow in return and gestured them back to their seats. “The council plans to purchase the first five off the assembly line.”
She was not entirely being truthful. Their purchase was contingent on a number of factors, sufficient investment being one of them. So she stretched things a bit, all for a good cause.
At her words many of them turned to talk to each other, some nodding in appreciation of this news, others still looking skeptical. “You are the last group to be invited in on this venture,” Aaron said, pushing to close the deal, “so please consider carefully and then make your decisions. Elizabeth, my associate, will talk to you all when you
are ready. Thank you for your time.”
The room broke out in polite applause as Aaron turned, picking up his cane from the boardroom table, and walking towards Minu at the exit. His gait was unchanged, a quick left step followed by a slower right. Each step etched pain on his face as he leaned on the crutch, but he still smiled as he approached. Minu leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “Tough room,” she said.
“Your timing was impeccable, as always.” Minu slipped an arm around his waist, not to help him, but just to enjoy the contact. She knew better than to help him. “I was losing that group from New Jerusalem.”
“I thought we'd made the budget goals?”
“I thought so too, but that audit we had last week found a shortfall. Of course the damn bank instantly started to balk, so we had to go back to the well for another helping. We've cut this pie so many times I don't think the firm will make one percent profit. But the project is the start we need to complete the shuttles into production.”
They reached the end of the hallway where his office was. “Aaron Groves, CEO, Groves Industries” resided there in gold.
The tiny company they'd inherited years ago when his father died had grown into the preeminent aerospace industrial concern on Bellatrix under his management and inventiveness, and Minu's money raising ability. It chagrined her that somehow she'd become not only a competent public speaker, but an accomplished one who was regularly in demand. Years of lecturing to students and speaking at building dedications (often named after her) had done their magic.
The source of the business was a surprise to Aaron. Their family business was olives when he was growing up, and he hadn't even known his father had started the small aerospace company while his son served in the Chosen. She'd only met the elder Groves at their wedding five years earlier.
Aaron opened the door with his free left hand and went straight for the overstuffed couch, forgoing the expensive kloth leather office chair behind the modest oak desk. He sank gratefully into the upholstery and sighed in relief. “God, I was almost at my end in there.”
“Not feeling any better?”
“No,” he admitted as he relaxed.
Minu closed the door and locked it before sitting next to him. Without being asked she removed his shoes, carefully and one at a time, and rolled up his pant legs. Where the flesh ended and the cybernetics began, was evident on both legs by angry red swelling.
A year was gone since the accident and still his body hadn't adapted to the prosthetics like hers had. The codex data had helped, for sure. Without it they would have had to remove the artificial limbs months ago or risk losing him to catastrophic rejection. “Maybe it’s a little better.” His body was fighting the nano-tailored dualloy fusions between his body and the limbs. It was a rare and painful side effect.
Minu gently massaged the flesh at his mid left thigh, just above where that leg ended. The muscles underneath were just as strong as before, but the skin was a mishmash of scar tissue and inflammation. The other was the same where it ended, just above his knee.
It was ironic that he'd healed from the repairs that had saved his right arm, while the replacements to his severed and melted limbs which should have had him walking and running in weeks were still struggling to heal. The doctors said they thought they would eventually succeed, it was just taking a long time.
“How was the meeting with the board of governors?” he asked, changing the subject.
“They cut me by five percent.”
“What? Why?” he asked.
“Realigned some research grants. Environmental sciences.”
“Oh.”
“Ted says hello,” she said. “He was wondering how you were.”
“Offering his pity?”
“Don't be like that.” He snorted and got to his feet, heedless of the pain. She tried to cut off his mood. “He just hopes you’re getting better, that's all. People care about you, Aaron.”
“That's why the fucking council forced me into retirement?” She sighed, it was too late. “They'll wait two years for Pip, and don't even make him retire when he comes back as a sexual deviant with a metal plate in his head.”
“Aaron!”
He looked back at her as he stared out the office’s lone window. Outside the sun bore down relentlessly, but the window’s UV shield and the building’s atmosphere processor made it a comfortable twenty degrees Celsius inside. “You're right, I'm sorry.”
Minu got up and came over, putting her arms around his waist from behind. They were so close to the same height it was a comfortable thing to do. He tensed then relaxed, caressing her right hand.
“You're the lucky one, you know?”
“Lucky?” she asked. “I didn't feel lucky when that kloth was gnawing on my arm, or when the Tanam tore my legs to shreds.”
He looked down at his naked cybernetic feet, both indistinguishable from his originals. “We've both been pretty fucked up, haven't we?”
“You can say that again.” Minu looked over to his desk. A model of the AX-1 sat there, and a large 3-D image was on the wall behind his desk, only slightly smaller than an artist’s mockup of the AX-2.
She'd sat in the operations center as he’d piloted the AX-1 on its first reentry. Stood there, unable to breathe as he sent his last transmission. “Controls are unresponsive.” The controllers begged him to eject, but the records showed he never once reached for the bar, even when the manual attitude control jets he’d used to ride the dying shuttle all the way down from orbit ran out of fuel, only twenty meters above the runway.
At four hundred KPH, a twenty meter fall was like being dropped in a wood chipper. For all his effort the prototype was still a complete loss, and his legs were melted in the fire while he waited for three eternal minutes as the fire crew fought through the wreckage to reach him. The fire crew chief had been in tears when he saw Minu later.
“He never once screamed,” he had told her, “just calmly led us to him asking if we could hurry but be careful. We thought he was fine!”
“Why are you pushing yourself so hard?” she asked him, as he stood there in obvious pain. She'd felt that pain as she fought to get used to prosthetic muscles in her legs after the fight with the Tanam. The cybernetic muscles in her legs were harder to adapt to than the complete replacement of her right arm. She already knew the answer.
“The AX-2 will be ready in six months,” he said. Minu tried to ignore the shiver of terror that ran up her back, but it must have reached him through her arms. “You don't think I can make it?”
“No,” she said and gently turned him to face her, “I'm terrified that you will.”
His face softened and he kissed her, with passion this time. “That massage felt real good.”
“Yeah? You want some more?” She was slowly unbuttoning the conservative blouse she wore.
His eyes sparkled as he watched the show. “Sure. Lock the door, will you?”
“I already did,” she said as his strong hands found her breasts.
Chapter 2
Julast 13th, 533 AE
Groves Industries, Tranquility, Bellatrix
Hours later, Minu was setting the table in their cabin while Aaron was putting the finishing touches on dinner; farm raised sea bass from Peninsula with new potatoes and broccoli. Minu had installed a couple strategically placed handholds in the kitchen months ago. Aaron had been furious at first but she'd raged back at him to shut up; the house was hers, not his.
He’d quietly begun using them within a few days and now they were part of their normal routine. It was difficult to cook with one hand holding a cane all the time. The extra places for him to lean and hold on gave him the little help he needed in order to make their nightly ritual a partnership.
Outside an aerocar whined overhead and Minu almost snarled unconsciously. Her secret hideaway had been public knowledge for years, and it wasn't unheard of for a reporter to make an unauthorized visit. But she glanced at the clock hanging next to the sink an
d saw what time it was.
“Gregg is here,” Aaron said by the stove where he had a view of the enlarged parking area, confirming her thoughts.
Minu's old red aerocar landed smoothly outside on the smaller of two landing pads. The second pad, added years ago and made of ceramic concrete, was nearly as big as the house. Occasionally a shuttle would arrive from orbit carrying a special visitor who would only set foot on Bellatrix in this very cabin.
She turned and glanced at the car, feeling a little pang of regret. She'd left it to Gregg after running on her rescue mission for Pip. It was only fair that after he'd used it as his own for years that he would get to keep it. Still, the hot red machine was her first love, even when the dealer who sold her that car gave her a newer, hotter one upon her return.
The codex had saved the dealer’s twin daughters when they had been born with a rare genetic defect that would have claimed their lives without the knowledge she'd found. She'd tried to refuse the gift, only to find out that he would 'set the god damn thing on fire if she didn't accept it!'
The car doors gullwinged up as Gregg unfolded his long frame from one side and his wife emerged from the other. Approaching thirty-five, he'd developed a small bald spot that he tried to cover up by letting the rest grow longer. It didn't stop Aaron from harassing him every chance he got. Aaron was five subjective years younger, his hair thick and full. The codex proved useless on hair loss, a problem that the ancient simian hominid species apparently didn’t suffer from.
The front door opened a moment later and Gregg's voice boomed out. “What's for dinner?”
“Shit sandwiches,” Aaron replied.
Faye stepped in, her face scrunched up in disgust at her husband and Aaron's usual ritual. She was just as tall as he was and with equally blond hair, cut short to her shoulders. Her own blue eyes were a little more subdued than Gregg's, but her choice of a pretty red blouse/skirt ensemble set them off brilliantly. Gregg had somehow managed to marry a woman even prettier than he was. When Minu had first met her, last year when he'd announced their engagement, she had liked Faye instantly.