by Kate Rauner
Greta had stopped at the exam rooms to talk with her medics about the supply of analgesics. After Tanaka's rallies, a few people always came to the clinic because stress aggravated stasis aftereffects. When she walked in, Yash all but launched himself at her.
"What just happened out there?" he said. "Tanaka's always been paranoid, but I've never seen him treat Kin that way."
Greta tented her hands against her face, making a decision. "I'm violating patient confidence, but this is an extraordinary situation. Tanaka's had headaches and insomnia since he arrived. He's been calling me more often each day. The drugs wear off faster each time."
"Stasis sickness?"
"Probably. The aftereffects I see in other patients include headaches. But Tanaka's insomnia is worse, and sleep deprivation leads to confusion and emotional instability. Even to hallucinations and paranoia."
Yash felt cold again. "He'll get better, won't he? Stasis effects wear off."
"So the protocols say. But none of the underlying research was loaded into our cybernet. I've got treatment recommendations with nothing to back them up and no way to compare individual reactions to a norm."
Yash collapsed onto the little sofa and stared at Greta wide-eyed. "Can't you give him something to make him sleep?"
"Drug-induction doesn't let the brain recuperate the way natural sleep does. He could suffer depression or nightmares on top of the paranoia."
"Then Liam's attempts to ping Earth are more important than ever."
"Should we tell Liam?" Greta asked. "Or Max?"
"Well, we definitely can't talk to Magnus. I don't know Max very well. What if he reported us to Tanaka?" Yash rubbed his neck. "Liam will keep trying to contact Earth, and right now, I have no reason to change our schedule. Let Max harvest his beans and the Herschel awaken another level of pods, just like we planned."
Greta sat next to Yash and leaned against him. "Tanaka's only been awake for a month, and most Advanced Team members seems to be recovering. Maybe it'll be okay."
Yash put an arm around her shoulder and Greta snuggled into his side. He should hold her close and let his worries float away. Greta would do whatever could be done about Tanaka's condition, and he should focus on the colony's equipment. That was his area of expertise. But his mind kept swirling.
"What if it's not okay," he said. "What if Tanaka endangers the colony."
"We'll travel that road when we come to it."
"I've already taken the first step. Liam and I have. We've set up our secret comm link."
Greta pushed far enough away to gaze into his eyes. Her expression matched his uneasiness but her voice was calm. "That's simply a reasonable arrangement between Cohorts."
"Then why are we keeping it a secret?"
Greta bit her lip. She wasn't a comfortable with the situation as she pretended.
"I don't like Magnus whispering in Tanaka's ear, either," Yash said. "Nothing he says is going to help."
Greta looked terribly grim. "There are always options."
A shiver ran through Yash. He felt certain she had something specific in mind. "What do you mean?"
Greta shook her head and her face lightened with a smile. "Nothing. Just a vague speculation to bump you out of this sour mood. Here's my professional advice. Forget about Tanaka and Magnus for tonight. Forget about pods and comm links. It's just you and me till morning."
Yash relaxed against her. "You're the doctor."
***
Fynn and Rica climbed the hydroponics frames to the top of the greenhouse and hung a portable gas analyzer. Ribs of embedded light ropes, the lights used to start work in a dome, stopped several meters short of the highest point on the dome's squat ceiling, and below them, magenta LEDs turned the hydroponic tubes purple.
"Look here." Fynn leaned far over the edge. "When we move down under the grow lights, your hair will be pink again." He smiled at her.
She wrinkled her nose in response. "All anyone had to do to stop me from coloring my hair was take me to Titan. If only our barrack chief back home had known."
She ran a hand through vibrant curls fading to soft brown. "I brought one package of hair color with me. Doesn't that sound ridiculous?"
"I don't know. I'm glad I've got my university sweatshirt, and who besides me cares about that?"
Rica gazed down through the leaves and vines. "Sometimes, I wonder."
About what, exactly, Fynn didn't know. She sounded wistful. He hadn't been given much of a choice, but Rica had worked for months on the Herschel and knew what to expect on Titan. Maybe she had regrets about the colony. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he laid a hand over hers where she balanced lightly on the frame.
Rica shook her head and her eyes snapped back into focus. She pushed the air monitor along the frame, brushing through tomato leaves to an open spot. "Ready." She swatted at something near her jaw.
It wasn't an errant curl tickling her face. Tiny flies swarmed out of the tomatoes she'd disturbed. Fynn waved a hand through the cloud and then leaned closer to the plants. He hadn't noticed before, but many of the leaves were shriveled with yellow edges.
Rica turned a leaf over. White spots covered the surface. Fynn rubbed the oval splotches with a fingertip. They were sticky.
He clambered down a level. The leaves here were green, but he found white spots on their undersides. "I'm no gardener, but this can't be good."
Rica tapped at her sleeve. "I'm sending a message to Max. I hope he set his pad to alert when something calls him by name. With every message going to everyone, there're so many scrolling by he'd never notice... Oh, good." He stood on the floor below them, waving. With surprising grace for such a big man, he swung onto the frame and from level to level up to them.
He bit his lip and moved down the row, examining leaves on each plant. "Drat."
Fynn and Rica waited with growing concern as he climbed up a level, worked his way back toward them, and dropped to their side where he hung by one hand, rubbing the other on his coveralls.
"Whiteflies," he said. "It's not possible for them to survive decontamination procedures, but there they are."
"Are they bad?" Fynn asked.
"They suck juices from a plant - you can see the yellow leaves. When the infestation's severe enough, they'll kill the plant. Almost impossible to get rid of completely." He barked a humorless laugh. "As I guess I've proven."
"But, without this greenhouse..." Fynn gulped. Without the greenhouse, they'd starve.
"Oh, we can control them. Prune off the worst patches of eggs - that's those white spots. Rig up something to flush them off... may have to support each leaf with your hand as you work... If we work in pairs, a second person can catch the wash water..." He was planning a response rather than answering Fynn.
"Did you bring any bug sprays?" Rica asked.
"What?" Max focused on her. "No, not with the Advance Team. Once the Herschel's labs are operating, we can synthesize a pesticide. I'm glad you discovered this when you did." He smiled, a teacher again. "It'll take a lot of work by hand that I wasn't expecting, but we'll be fine."
Max dropped to the floor, motioning his crew to him.
Fynn pulled out his flat pad." I'm gonna tell Drew about this."
Rica gripped the frame with her legs and slapped her hands together, trying to squash a few flies. The air movement blew most of them out of harm's way. "Max has a big crew. It'll be okay."
"You're right." Fynn tried to sound confident. "We've got our own job to do."
***
Fynn pulled his flat pad from a pocket. "Ben, are you listening? Release a slug of CO2."
Rica tapped the air monitor's start button and they leaned as comfortably as possible against the hydroponics frame, careful not to raise another cloud of flies from the leaves, and watched the monitor. It would take a while for the fresh CO2 to reach them, and Fynn looked idly down. The greenhouse crew, dressed in shades of blue, was scurrying around, probably assembling whatever equipment Max requi
red to battle whiteflies. One woman hunched over, then held her arm out to her companion. He wiggled his finger across her display before passing her a strip of cloth.
Fynn stiffened. That looked peculiar. He scanned for more groups and spotted a trio passing a flat pad around.
It didn't take long to find Drew, obvious in his pale green coveralls, working at a pump station.
"Rica, can you handle the CO2 monitor?" Fynn asked. "I want to ask Drew something." He dropped from level to level, swinging like a monkey to the bottom frame, hopped over to Drew, and motioned him close to a water tank.
"There's no way I can make pesticides without the Herschel," Drew said.
"That's not my question." Fynn glanced from side to side and whispered. "How many people did you give Tyra's dumb-slate program to?"
Drew's eyes widened with innocence. "Just one guy on my maintenance crew. But he's okay. Maybe two guys. Don't worry."
"Worry? Look around." Fynn pulled in his arm halfway through a swing. "No, not so obviously."
"How am I going to look if... oh."
Across the aisle, two women leaned over a bin of tubing nozzles, but instead of pulling out parts, they passed something back and forth below the lip and giggled.
"Well..." Drew shrugged. "I'm sure everyone's being careful."
Drew's coveralls flipped to blue. He jumped and stared down at his legs, his pale face blanching even whiter.
Fynn shushed him and watched his own sleeve as Adjunct Shun's voice played in his ear. "Doctor Tanaka will address the Kin before supper. Assemble in the playing field in fifteen minutes."
People swung out of the frames and headed to the village dome. Rica dropped down next to Fynn. "I left the monitor recording. At least we'll collect data from one point in the dome."
Kin assembled beneath swaying orange banners and Tanaka, flanked by his adjuncts, stepped to the balcony rail. "The Herschel's delay in landing the Gravitron is allowing our muscles to atrophy. Their failure threatens to make us weak. So before each meal we will perform one hour of calisthenics."
Grumbles ran through the team, muffled sounds rather than clear words of complaint, and people glanced at their neighbors. No one tipped a chin up in defiance.
Tanaka raised an arm. "I understand this may be uncomfortable. So each of you will first remove your coveralls and fold them neatly on the floor in front of you. Spread out now."
More confused looks were exchanged, but individuals took a few sidesteps and unzipped. Coverall legs slipped easily over thin-soled shoes and in a moment, everyone was folding their clothes.
Except for Drew. He wore his ankle brace under his coveralls and the fabric caught on the straps. He hopped once, and then plopped down, trying to untangle his cuff.
"You." Tanaka stretched an arm and pointed. "Drew Beck. Do you mock me?"
Shun leaped over the balcony and for a moment Fynn thought he was falling. But he towed a flier, swung onboard, and dove at Drew.
The adjunct grabbed Drew's loose coveralls and rose swiftly, lifting him a few meters off the floor before the fabric tore. The slow motion fall gave Drew time to thrash in the air before landing on his knees.
"You don't want to join our exercises?" Tanaka screeched. "Perhaps you'd rather be alone?"
Magnus plunged over the rail on a flier, straight toward Drew, hauled him across the field to a trash bin by the men's barracks, and pitched him inside. Shun tossed in the torn coveralls and settled a lid on top. The click-click-click of racket straps cut through the hum of ventilation. The adjuncts mounted their fliers and hovered over the stunned crowd low enough to blast them with the blowers' downdraft.
Fynn spread his arms wide, and people near him shied away as he yelled. "You don't understand. His brace got caught. Drew didn't mean anything."
Shun dropped to Fynn's side and grabbed his arm. Yash bounded through the crowd to grab his other arm. He twisted toward Tanaka and shouted. "It's a stasis effect. The boys mean no impertinence."
Tanaka gripped the rail with both hands. "Ah, my Archetype engineer. Get back in formation or join the boy in the trash."
Yash laid a hand on Shun's arm and glared at him. He released Fynn and raised both hands with his fingers spread wide. It seemed that Fynn's father still commanded respect, or at least inspired caution.
Stiff with anger, Fynn leaned close to Shun's face. "You can't leave Drew in the trash."
Apparently, Fynn wasn't very intimidating because Shun smirked. "You both spent your share of time-outs in barracks back home."
"We're not back home, and we're not children. You can't treat us this way."
Magnus dropped his flier to the floor, so close that Fynn and Yash hopped backwards. He reached to grab Fynn's collar and Yash swung an open hand, blocking his arm.
Fynn's pulse pounded in his ears, blotting out the whir of ventilation fans. Shun shifted a wary gaze from Yash to Magnus.
Emily pushed her way into the tight group. A smile plumped her cheeks but her eyes were hard as diamond and the men each took a step or two back.
Maj's call for the first exercise rang in Fynn's ear and Kin around him jumped. When he looked up, Tanaka was gone. Magnus launched his flier and Shun followed. Around them, Kin hopped high in jumping jacks. Yash jerked his chin sharply at Fynn and jumped. There was nothing else to do. Fynn fell in step with the next jump.
***
Maliah sat with the adjuncts as Doctor Tanaka worked at his desk. It was an honor to be included, to know Tanaka wanted her close to him. She was settling down to watch an entertainment on her flat pad when the door rattled with a knock.
Maj opened it and Max stepped inside. He was wearing coveralls, but still red faced and sweaty from calisthenics.
Tanaka looked up from his pad and frowned. "If you've come to argue for that boy..."
"No. No. But, honestly..." He took a deep breath, about to say more but shook his head instead. "It's about the greenhouse."
Tanaka set his elbows on the desktop, and leaned his chin on clasped hands. "Go on."
"There's an unpleasant surprise. I hadn't expected this. An infestation of whiteflies."
Tanaka shifted back in his chair. Clearly, this wasn't what he expected either, and from his expression, he was puzzled. But, from Max's lessons in the Kin's gardens on Earth, she knew that flies were trouble. She bit her lip, straining to hear every word from her seat across the room.
Max hurried on. "Whiteflies can wreak havoc in a greenhouse. They're very hard on plants and we may have lost some tomatoes..."
"What do you mean, lost?"
"If not treated, whiteflies will kill plants."
"Flies?" Tanaka rose from his chair, planted his fists on the desk, and leaned toward Max. "I brought my Kin across the solar system to colonize this moon, and you're telling me I'm defeated by flies?"
Maliah had no trouble hearing him now.
Max took a step backwards. "Oh, no. Not defeated. There's just extra work to do. A good bit of work by hand, but my crew will manage. Fynn found the whiteflies before..."
"Fynn?" Tanaka was shrill. "Chief Engineer Rupar's son?"
Maliah glanced at Magnus, who sneered. Having her father and brother mentioned right now wasn't good.
Max took another step backwards. "Yes, but he only spotted the problem. Some whitefly eggs must have made it through decontamination."
"Sabotage."
"I hardly think so. An accident. We can manage well enough for now, and I'll manufacture some pesticides once the Herschel's labs..."
It was a mistake to bring up the ship and Maliah winced. As she feared, Tanaka bared his teeth. "Those traitors."
She felt sorry for Max, who couldn't find a way out of the maelstrom he'd created. At least he'd stopped talking.
Tanaka collapsed into his chair and Maj rushed to his side. No one else seemed anxious to get close to him, and Maliah froze in place.
Emotion drained away and Tanaka turned pale. He rested his head in his hands. "Then go, Co
hort Bauer. Go away and manage your flies."
The sudden mood swing must have startled Max as much as the shouting, because he didn't move until Maj nodded to him sympathetically and he fumbled out the door.
***
At supper, the Kin huddled together at four tables and there was little conversation. Fynn sat at the end of a table with his crew, the Ever-Clean coveralls chaffing his shoulders where it trapped sweat against his skin. He caught sight of his mother crossing from the clinic to the tower stairs with a determined rebound from each step. He glanced down the tables but didn't see other medics or his father.
He spooned through mushy chicken and rice quickly, barely noticing any flavor but salt, and picked up his bowl. "I'm going to retrieve our air monitor." His words sounded overly hearty, and he hoped no one noticed, but he had to get away and think.
Rica jumped up. "There's time to enter the data before bed."
Ben followed, and, after a cautious glance at Kin eating nearby, Casper did too. Fynn balled up his fists and led them with the same determined stride he'd seen his mother use. They waited silently in the greenhouse aisle while Rica retrieved the monitor, Ben and Casper watching Fynn as if they expected him to say something.
He didn't know what to say, but he knew what he had to do. He had to get Drew out of the trash bin, and he had a plan.
In the tunnel to the furnace dome, Fynn stopped so suddenly that Ben ran into him. "I think the fans make too much noise in a tunnel for a mic to pick up voices, but let's be sure." Fynn held his flat pad up so they could see and slid the power switch to off. The others did the same. "Now we can talk."
Rica's curls whipped into her face. "What? I can't hear you. I've got a better idea." She dragged Fynn into the furnace dome, the others followed, and they crossed the empty quadrants to the furnace consoles. With a satisfied smile, she tapped a control.
The dome went black and Casper gasped.
"Relax." Rica pulled out a slender hand light and rescued them from the darkness. "I've learned how to simulate a shut-down, and they happen so often no one's going to suspect. All our dome cameras are off now, along with their audio pickups."