by M. D. Cooper
Tanis didn’t hold back her laughter this time.
Tanis signed off, and Erin left the apartment to wait outside for the search team. The walkway was open, overlooking a central courtyard. Erin propped herself against the wall opposite the door and tried to contact Martin. She wasn’t too surprised when she couldn’t raise him. Martin sometimes disabled his messaging queues. He said it was when he needed to concentrate deeply on something, but Erin knew it was mostly because he didn’t feel like talking to anyone.
She was considering reaching out to Eamon when footsteps sounded nearby, and she looked up to see three police officers approaching. When they reached her, they confirmed they were there to search Max’s apartment again for any clues to the antimatter’s location. One of the officers gave Erin a pulse pistol and a holster that she could wear under her jacket. When she put on the holster and slipped the pistol inside, it felt strange and bulky, but also reassuring.
She took the elevator to the first floor and stepped out onto the sidewalk, where pedestrians were heading home from work or going out for the evening. As she navigated the busy thoroughfares, she wondered where she should go to eat. She didn’t want to return to her apartment just then.
She wished that Isa hadn’t left to go to Tyre, or that Martin wasn’t on one of his solitary kicks. She needed some cheering up after the depressing atmosphere of Max Rasner’s apartment and the discovery that he was still in the market for mayhem.
Erin decided to head to the place on the edge of the Party Field where she, Martin, and Isa had agreed to embark on their slightly unusual relationship. The happy memories would lift her mood.
After walking for twenty minutes or so through Landfall, she eventually reached a lane that led to the field. The area was much quieter than downtown.
Erin turned into the empty lane. It was pedestrians only and flanked with shops that sold souvenirs commemorating the day of the colonists’ arrival. Most out-of-town visitors went elsewhere after dark, so the shops were all closed. A handful of street lights provided dim illumination. The shop windows displayed models of the sculpture of the four inhabited planets of New Canaan that took pride of place at the center of the Party Field. Tourists could buy seeds of the wildflowers that grew there and menus of the food that was served at the party. Framed pictures of notable partiers like Tanis, Jason Andrews, and Terrence Enfield were also for sale.
Erin was halfway along the lane, when a shadow suddenly swept across the sidewalk at her feet. Someone was running up from behind, swiftly and silently. The shadow raised its arms.
Erin barely had time to react. She dodged to one side, and felt something pass by her face. She swept around, reaching for the weapon that nestled under her arm, but before she could draw it, her attacker was upon her.
Smashed downward by a blow on her back, she hit the pavement face-first. She tried to get up, but what felt like two knees pressed against her back, and hands fastened around her throat.
Erin heard Walter send a distress call. Would someone reach her in time? She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t reach her attacker with her one arm that was free. Her other arm was trapped under her.
The strangling grip tightened. Blood engorged her head, and she felt her eyes bulge. She was beginning to black out.
With a massive effort, she lifted her torso a little off the ground. She didn’t have the strength to throw her attacker off, but she created enough space to reach the pistol.
Suffocating and unable to cry out, she inched the weapon from its holster. It slipped free, but it was still under her jacket. She pushed it against the fabric so that it was pointing away from her. Where it was pointing, she didn’t know.
She fired; pulse after pulse surged out.
It made no difference. The pressure on her throat didn’t ease.
“Hey,” a voice shouted in the distance.
Miraculously, the hands left Erin’s throat. She sucked air like a hull breach. The weight on her back was gone, then feet hit the ground near her face. She struggled onto her elbows just in time to see a figure in black running down the lane.
More running footsteps came from behind her, then stopped.
“Are you okay?”
Erin watched as the black figure disappeared into the Party Field. A hand was on her shoulder, turning her over. Someone else ran past, chasing her attacker.
“I think so,” she said. Her voice came out as a whisper.
More people were running past, people who had responded to the distress call Walter had sent, or who had seen the discharge of her weapon.
Erin sat up, rubbing her throat.
“Medics are on their way,” said the man in a suit who knelt next to her.
“Thanks,” Erin whispered.
Her pulse was beginning to slow, and as she calmed down, confusion began to replace her panic. Though the lane was dark and she hadn’t seen much more than a glimpse of her attacker, the person had been stocky…not a willowy Noctus like Max.
A NEW HAND
STELLAR DATE: 03.17.8937 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Marine Eco Station #14, Knossos Island
REGION: Carthage, New Canaan System
Martin pushed his boat off the shore. A wave slapped the bow, lifting it up. He guided the boat over the swell and waded in after it, jumping inside as it reached deeper water. The sun was an orange semi-circle on the horizon, and the stars had nearly faded from sight. Yawning as he started up the engine, he input the destination coordinates, settled down, and opened the packet he’d just received from Isa.
‘Martin, Tyre is amazing. Have you been here yet? I forgot to ask you. I already rode the chute down through Mount Athos. It was unbelievable. And I’m just about to explore the cave system at Mount Ida. When I get back to the hotel, I’ll send you the recordings. I might send you my commentary, too, and you can let me know what I should keep or add to it. I’ll probably forget something important.
It was a pity we had to leave Athens early, wasn’t it? But you were right. It wouldn’t have been the same without Erin there. Maybe when she’s finished working on her investigation, we can persuade her to take some more vacation time. Then you two can come and visit me out here. What do you think?
Anyway, let me know what you’re doing. I’m always interested to hear about your job. How’s the coral reef doing? I’m going to hold you to your promise to show it to me one day. I’m really looking forward to it.
But I’m also really looking forward to the next couple of months working on this project. It suits me perfectly. I get to see the most spectacular places, and I don’t have to deal with people complaining all the time—not like when I was at Placement Services. I can’t believe I’m being paid to do it.
I miss you already. Write soon. Love you.’
Martin smiled to himself.
Martin took a moment to assess this comment, wondering if he’d heard it right.
Martin was certain that Eamon’s wry remark was intended to get a rise out of him.
He told himself the same.
Martin began to feel a little uncomfortable.
When he didn’t reply, Eamon asked,
Martin winced.
Martin chuckled.
Martin checked the current maps and the weather reports, ensuring that everything was still favorable for the trip.
Martin laughed.
They were well out to sea now, and Knossos’ coastline had disappeared behind them. Martin considered recording a reply to Isa’s message while he had some time to spare. He’d been hard at work ever since returning from Athens, only stopping to eat and sleep. The animals required more checks as they grew larger, and he was constantly starting off more species. Getting the balance right was delicate work. Timing was vital too. He stressed over each release because the animals were on their own from that point on. If he hadn’t laid the groundwork properly, they would starve to death or be hunted to extinction by other predators.
Martin forced himself to stop thinking about work. Perhaps he could send Isa a vid of the new island when he reached it. She might like that, and it would be something he could offer in return for the recordings she’d promised to send of the sights of Tyre.
Isa remained somewhat of a puzzle to him. He got along with her better than he did with Erin, yet that was strange because of the two of them, Erin was the one he felt he understood best. It was probably because they were both from Sol, they both had AIs, and they both had demanding jobs that they loved. By contrast, Isa’s background and upbringing were something he could barely imagine. And what made her harder to understand was the fact that she rarely spoke about her past before her time on Victoria. Her days enslaved by the Lumins were almost a taboo subject.
Martin regretted it, because he thought that if she would tell him more about her former life, he would understand her better.
Isa was far more vulnerable than Erin, and more willing to bend to keep the peace. She would always intervene when he and Erin bickered. She didn’t seem to understand that their little arguments were only an aspect of how they related to each other, and entirely harmless. Playing peacekeeper between himself and Erin wasn’t necessary, but it touched him that Isa cared and was doing her best to protect their little family.
He only wished that he could help her too. He sensed that there was a deep, old sorrow in Isa that was difficult, if not impossible, to heal.
Clouds of gas were erupting from the ocean all across the horizon, cooling Carthage’s interior. A gust of sea breeze parted them for a moment, revealing a large black hill. Lava oozed down its side like a waterfall, only composed of molten rock.
Martin stopped the boat and threw out the anchor. He had to keep a safe distance from the island. The water around it seethed and bubbled, and steam rose from the spot where the orange-white lava hit the ocean. He recorded his sight of the new patch of land for a while as his boat bobbed on the waves.
I’ll look into seeding the surrounding area with tropical fish, he decided. They would thrive in the warm water.
But time was pressing. He had a lot to do that day. He lifted the anchor and started up the boat, inputting a new destination. That morning would be taken up with checking that the animals in artificial wombs were growing well. He was a little concerned about the blue whales.
Mammals were always tricky. When they were finally born, he would face the challenge of supplying enormous volumes of specially formulated, high-fat milk for six months, and then teaching them how to feed themselves before he could wean them. Compared to that gargantuan task, everything he’d done up until now was simple and easy.
In the end, it was well after lunchtime before Martin completed his tasks. Bone-tired and hungry, he headed home. He decided he would grab some food to take out with him that afternoon, when he was traveling offshore again to add some more coral species to the reef he was building.
A few meters from the shoreline, he hopped out of the boat and pushed it up onto the sand. After washing off the sand that clung to him in his outdoor shower, Martin walked into his home.
He stopped dead.
There was sand on the floor. A whole trail of it. Martin’s gaze followed the outrageous messiness until he found its source: a man was sitting in his armchair.
The man’s feet and calves were coated in sand. He shifted position as Martin’s gaze met his, and an avalanche of grains fell from his legs, adding to the pool of sand he’d already created.
“Hi,” the man said cheerfully. “I arrived a while ago. I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in. There was nowhere to sit down and wait for you outside. I tried to tell you I was here, but you’d disabled your message queues.”
Words whirled through Martin’s mind but refused to come out of his mouth.
All he could think to say was, “You couldn’t find anywhere to sit? On a beach?”
“Yeah, well, I guess I could have sat on the sand, you know, but I didn’t want to get dirty.”
Martin stared at the man’s sand-coated legs and then at his face and then at his legs again. Nothing in his expression indicated that he was speaking ironically.
“Huh?” The young man stood up. Martin flinched as more sand fell. “I’m sorry. I thought you were the scientist in charge of this site. I must have made a mistake. I’m looking for Dr. Ryland.”
Eamon was right. As soon as he’d returned from Athens, Martin had gone to check on his animals. In his urgency to reassure himself that all his projects hadn’t been affected by his absence, he’d entirely forgotten to read his friend’s note. And then when Eamon had reminded him, he’d put it off; he’d seen with his own eyes that everything was fine with his site, what else did he need to know?
The man was waiting for him to reply.
“I’m Dr. Ryland,” said Martin. “Uh, I forgot to, uh…. Wait here a minute, please.”
He about-faced and stepped quickly outside, then closed the door and leaned on the exterior wall while he read Cameron’s message.
‘Hey buddy
Sweet site you have. I did everything you asked; boy, that was some list you left me. I checked every nursery, hatchery, and artificial womb, but I have to say, it nearly killed me. I was certainly glad when you said you were coming home early. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you.
It looks like you’re having the same problems as me…. Now that the organisms we’re nurturing are growing bigger it’s becoming more challenging to keep on top of everything, right? I realized this weeks ago at my site, which is smaller than yours. The days just aren’t long enough to get everything done.
The only reason I could help you out was because I asked Murry if he could find me a young biologist to take on some of my workload. He was happy to oblige, and now I have Gemma to do the grunt work while I do the more specialized stuff. She learns on the job, and I get to concentrate on the things that really matter. It’s a win-win.