Titan Cruel Moon

by Kate Rauner

  "Maybe not," Evan said.

  "But, there's a bucket of dehydrated food under each pod, meant to go to the surface with its occupant."

  "Evan and I talked about this," Erik said. "On the surface, they have a greenhouse for food. We can't grow anything up here until the space station's spinning and the labs are operating. We need to keep enough food onboard in case there's more delays."

  "The people on Titan can take care of themselves," Evan said.

  Drew's eyes widened. "But, they're Kin."

  "... and the best way for us to help them is to get the station going," Erik said. "Best thing for us, too, because then we don't need to ever travel to the surface for Gravitron treatments. We can stay up here."

  Another pilot snorted. "I sure don't want to live in the domes, not even part time. They've gone crazy with barracks discipline, and you all know they tried to grab Evan's shuttle the last time he was on the surface. I like it fine in orbit."

  "They're the ones, down on the surface, who broke trust," Evan said. "You were plenty happy to get away from them yourself, Drew."

  Drew wasn't ready to abandon the Kin on the surface. "With Tanaka gone, things will get back to normal."

  "Maybe," Evan said. "But there's nothing we can do to help them. Except reconfigure the Herschel as quick as we can, like Erik says."

  "This may sound harsh," Erik said. "But I can't claim to be sad about Tanaka's death. He didn't accept that there are limits to his power. He thought he was elite, like all the Cohorts. Not meaning to offend you, Liam."

  Liam shook his heavy head. "No offense. I'll add my opinions to our discussions 'cause I've got experience, but the Herschel belongs to us all. If each of you is doing what you want and we talk out issues that impact the whole crew, I've done my job."

  Drew scanned the faces around him. "Then how about it? Food buckets scheduled to go to the surface with awakened Kin or not?"

  Erik passed Drew a sugar-sweetened coffee pouch. "Not. That's my vote."

  "Me too," Evan said. "Kin go down but the food buckets stay with us. And I've got some ideas on how to make sure no one tries to hijack my shuttle again."

  Liam called on each crewmate and turned to Drew last. "Okay, I'll make it unanimous," he said.

  Erik passed out more coffee pouches. "I'll start prepping for awakenings after breakfast, if that's okay. I'll need all you guys to help."

  Drew pushed away from the galley to finish his coffee while the others queued for dehydrated eggs and hash browns. He pressed the hot pouch between his tingling fingers. Erik was probably right about the greenhouse producing all the food needed on the surface.

  Drew's own permanent assignment was onboard the station, so he owed his loyalty to the Herschel's crew. If he'd stayed on the surface, the Kin's grand schedule would have sent him into orbit eventually. He'd just come up a little early. Anyone could understand that. Fynn would understand. Fynn had helped him. He pulled out his flat pad to send a text to his friend.

  ***

  Maliah closed the balcony door behind her. Her eyes were red, her face splotchy, but she used sorrow to fuel a sense of purpose. The colony had to succeed. To fulfill Tanaka's legacy as well as for the Kin's survival.

  Magnus lay a hand on her shoulder. "You did well out there."

  She gave him a curt nod and sucked in a long breath. "I will lead the burial party. Magnus, as many Kin as we have suits for must come. Strap Doctor Tanaka into a chair. I don't want him lying down like..." Like he's dead, she thought, but didn't say. "He must watch over us from the hill crest for all eternity."

  Her mother stood nearby. Maliah would have liked to find comfort there, but instead her gut tightened. "You failed the Kin. You failed him."

  Magnus stared at Greta too, with narrowed eyes and tight lips. He'd told Maliah Tanaka's death couldn't be an accident, not following so closely on the heels of Yash's death. He didn't believe in coincidence. Maliah had shouted him down, but now, with her own insides gone cold, she wasn't as sure.

  Greta's chin dropped to her chest and she shivered.

  Feeling the shame of her failure, no doubt. But when Maliah's mother looked up, her face was serene.

  "If you can manage placing Doctor Tanaka in a chair without my help," Greta said, "I should return to the clinic. I have patients who require care."

  Her mother must realize that she didn't deserve the honor of carrying Tanaka to the hill, and perhaps hoped for an acceptable excuse to be left behind in the domes. Maliah nodded and Greta left.

  Her father was dead, her mother a disappointment. And Fynn. Fynn had freed Drew and rebelled against Tanaka. Maliah would be alone if it weren't for the adjuncts. The original adjuncts, since she couldn't trust Magnus. Now she bore the burden of Tanaka's vision. The Kin looked to her to lead them. Her chest tightened against every breath and she wanted to curl up in the cybernet room, to get away from everyone.

  But that was impossible. She straightened her back and balled her hands into fists. Tanaka had given her a new purpose and she wouldn't let him down.

  After a few deep breaths, Maliah walked onto the balcony and raised her hands high overhead. Below her, Kin broke into hoarse cheering. Here and there, fists pumped the air.

  Magnus stood at Maliah's shoulder. "They'll follow you, Maliah. You look good standing in Tanaka's place."

  She refused to glance at him. The Kin's growing chant filled her with resolve. Magnus was unimportant.

  ***

  A message played in Fynn's ear. Maliah was calling them to retrieve surface suits and fliers from the furnace dome and join the adjuncts at the village dock.

  She lifted off from the balcony on a flier and the adjuncts followed her over the Kin's head. Maj and Magnus each carried a chair by one arm, and Tanaka sat rigidly between them. A few people around Fynn choked down giggles. The sight was crazy.

  Fynn ducked into his barracks unit. There weren't suits for all the Kin, so no one would miss him. He didn't want to go outside with three dozen sleep-deprived Kin. Although everyone had played with the fliers inside the domes, most hadn't donned a suit before today. He suspected they'd manage the trip without too much trouble, since tumbling off a flier meant a slow motion fall, but he didn't want to watch.

  He also didn't want to see Tanaka honored with a place on the highest point on their peninsula. The Black and White Hill might be a poor imitation of Olympus, but Tanaka didn't deserve even a faint reflection of godhood.

  He didn't want to see his father either, he admitted to himself, laid out and frozen. What would the extreme cold do to a human body? In museums, he'd seen ice age mammoths recovered from frozen tundra. Their bodies were preserved with burst eyes and shriveled extremities. He was afraid of losing memories of his living father and afraid of seeing a ghastly face in his dreams.

  Once he was certain the funeral procession was gone, Fynn snuggled into his bed and scanned his flat pad. He spotted the Herschel's text icon again, but this message was from his mother. She'd relayed it through the ship.

  Meet me at the shuttle dock.

  Fynn slid back into his coveralls and bounced off. A shuttle must have docked because he recognized Liam's bulky frame at the airlock where a motionless stevedore waited.

  Liam gripped Fynn's hand in greeting but his expression was strained. "Terrible loss, your father. And now Tanaka. We had differences, but he got us to Titan." Liam shook his square head.

  "Thanks, Liam. I had a message from my mother. Is she here?"

  "On her way, and we'll take off pronto when she gets here. Don't like what you heard Magnus say last time. About grabbing our pilot. Waited until they were all gone to land. Not gonna let Magnus onboard. No other adjuncts, either."

  "How will you prevent it?"

  ""Won't dock."

  "But the domes and the Herschel have to work together. We can't survive without each other."

  "Just till things are normal again," Liam said. "The Herschel's power plant will last three years, easy. Once
the station's spinning, there's a schedule for shuttling people up and down, for recovery periods in centrifugal gravity." Liam laughed without humor. "The schedule. That'll bring us together again. No worries." But he did look worried and turned away.

  Fynn's mouth felt dry, but the Herschel's commander was done talking, so Fynn joined in moving plastic-wrapped cubes out of the shuttle to the stevedore's pallet. Each was a meter on a side, light despite their size, and scented like garden soil. It was a faint smell, but reminded him of Earth. "What's in these?"

  Liam waggled his eyebrows. "My crew's contribution to fertilizing the greenhouse."

  Fynn held the cube farther away from his chest.

  Liam laughed. "Sterilized and dried. Max will soak them in water to extract nutrients, or use the bulk to build dirt gardens."

  Greta arrived carrying her medical bag and gave Fynn a quick hug. "I'm going to the Herschel to wake more Kin."

  "I know. Drew told me."

  "We have patients in the clinic, so Kumar's staying here. The other medics are coming with me."

  "But Mom, the adjuncts will return soon, and Liam says he won't land again. How will you get back in?"

  "Liam's got a plan."

  Fynn clutched her arm before she could turn away. He wasn't sure he truly wanted to know, but had to ask. "Mom. Did you... Tanaka's death..."

  "Shush. We'll talk later."

  Liam waved once Greta was inside and pulled the airlock door closed behind him.

  Fynn wondered if Maliah had any way to monitor the shuttles. Even if she didn't, he doubted Kumar could hide Greta's absence if Maliah became suspicious. Fynn hugged himself. He was getting used to carrying a knot in his belly.

  Fynn changed into his jeans and red sweatshirt. His Earth clothes. The hum of ventilation and pulsing from the nearby recycling systems were so familiar that he only heard them when he tried to listen.

  He hopped into the washroom and activated the cleaning bot. Its whirs and bumps made the barracks feel less empty. Fynn returned to his bed, pulled his pillow against his chest, and curled around it.

  He rubbed the letters on the sweatshirt's sleeve. It hadn't been as hard as he expected to leave his PhD program behind. That was surprising. He'd enjoyed studying thermodynamics even if it was the major his father chose for him. But he would have studied whatever courses he'd been assigned. As a barracks-raised Kin, he was used to accepting discipline.

  Maybe he'd adjusted to the domes because working with his father was better than any university. Titan was the greatest challenge, just like Yash said. That's what he'd enjoyed. He'd never been dedicated to Kin mythology the way Maliah was.

  Maliah. His big sister. On Earth, in school, he'd been happy to join her adventures. If she could pull the Kin back together, maybe he'd forgive her for turning on their father.

  He hugged the pillow tighter. Maybe he wouldn't forgive her. Maybe he couldn't. With Dad gone, everything good about the colony was gone too.

  He squeezed the earthly cotton of his shirt between his fingers. Soft, comfortable, and safe. And very far away.

  Fynn rolled onto his back and tossed the pillow. He had a crew behind him, and they produced heat and power for the colony, and carbon dioxide for the greenhouse. He'd solved a lot of problems and the colony was going to survive.

  His dad would be proud.

  A sigh caught in Fynn's throat, part of a wave of sorrow. But he knew it would soften its grip and pass. Nothing would ever be the same again, but he had work to do.

  Chapter 23

  F ynn walked across the spot where his father had been killed, but the blood stains were gone. Just a spot on the floor, he told himself as he marched past. He planned to spend the morning outside. One of the decabots had a tool tip stuck on an appendage. The other bot couldn't disconnect it, and that stopped both of them. After a few years on Titan, they needed maintenance. Too bad the Robotics Cohort was dead and all his files were sealed behind passcodes.

  Fynn planned a very human approach to the bot's problem. He hefted a hammer to take with him. It looked big, but seemed to float in his hand. He's swing hard.

  The hammer idea worked, and after a few good smacks, the bots got back to their task of filling methane cylinders using their own submersible pump. Liam had refueled on his last trip and an empty cylinder apparently triggered one of their imbedded programs. No one ever interfered with the bots. Perhaps Maliah didn't know, or didn't care, about operations on the surface.

  Being outside was a good way to avoid questions about Greta's absence. Surely, the crew saw cubes of recycled waste stacked in the greenhouse and knew they'd come from the Herschel. But there'd been no chatter about it over the cybernet. Everyone wanted to dodge trouble.

  Fynn puttered around the domes, lingering outside as long as possible. He examined the ground at the fission dome's shielding wall. It seemed lumpy, but maybe no different from the last time he'd checked. He really should store some high-resolution images so he could compare over time. There was a zigzag of ice walls at the dome's bot entrance, on the far side from the village dome, placed to block any straight line of escaping radiation. The path looked hollowed out, but it was a spot where the bot's tracks were concentrated, so maybe that made sense.

  He circled the fission dome and paused to watch the air tunnel undulating where it arched over the shield wall on its way to the village dome. He couldn't see the top of the fission dome, buoyed by warmth inside.

  He bounced across the level shuttle-landing zone and stopped to examine the airlock's docking rings and clamps, then ambled on to the laydown area. Empty bins, pallets, and bundles of packaging were stacked for Liam to retrieve once the Herschel's 3-D printers were activated and needed feedstock.

  Between the bins and the greenhouse was a large circular area, smooth and free of ice-rocks. It was the platform for the Gravitron dome, and now he realized that not all the cargo containers in the laydown area were empty. There were pallets of panels and framing bars, and bins of motors and cables. This was the contraption Greta needed to treat low gravity effects, and Fynn was intrigued.

  His suit's sleeve display had lower resolution than a flat pad, but worked well enough to view installation videos. Assembled, the Gravitron would be a big donut, filling a quarter of the dome's floor. Forty-five people would lie in forty-five slots, feet to the outside, and be spun at a centrifugal force equal to Earth's gravity, forcing bones and muscles to bear weight, sending fluids downwards from swollen brains and distended eyeballs, and generally reversing effects of Titan's low gravity.

  This piece of colony equipment Fynn knew from personal experience. Well, he knew the carnival ride it was named after. He'd gotten sick on one at an amusement park, though on Earth you rode with your back to the outside edge instead of your feet. And on Earth, it rotated faster so the spinning overcame gravity and flattened you against the wall. Maybe he wouldn't get sick at speeds his mother would prescribe.

  Remembering the amusement park brought a sour taste to Fynn's mouth. Drew was right. Once the Herschel was converted to a spinning space station, living in orbit at half Earth gravity would be pleasant, and apparently, enough to prevent the low gravity effects Greta fretted over.

  Laid against the greenhouse was the enormous, folded umbrella shape of the dome itself. Fynn hopped along, dragging one hand over the surface, wondering why the decabots hadn't glued it to an available greenhouse tunnel stub yet. Halfway along, he saw why. The dome had been sliced with a cutting torch while in orbit. The slice was ragged with melted edges, not sufficiently similar to what the bots were probably programmed to recognize.

  Setting up the dome, shoving the equipment inside, and inflating it with Titan's atmosphere - the bots handled that for the other domes. Fynn needed to view maintenance videos on a flat pad and figure out how to repair the damage.

  A familiar lump formed in Fynn's throat and he whispered out loud. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll make sure the Kin are protected. Even from Titan's low gravity."
>
  It was midday when he returned to the domes.

  He entered his barracks unit and stopped in the doorway, confused. The beds were stripped of blankets. Even his bed and Drew's were bare, and their mattress pads lay on the floor. His second pair of coveralls was missing from their hook, which sent a funny tingle into his stomach.

  In the washroom, Fynn found his yellow bag and all his personal items stuffed into a toilet. He yanked them out quickly, not that speed mattered. Everything was soaked.

  Fynn flung his sweatshirt across the room and it splatted into a sink. This was ridiculous, childish. He spun in place, looking for something to kick. His eyes settled on the cleaning bot, but at his first step toward it, a chill ran through his body.

  Now he was being childish, and there was no barrack chief on Titan to stop escalating conflicts before someone got hurt. Maybe stopping fights had never been enough. Maybe anger and resentments were buried in the Kin, ready to be tapped on Titan. What would be the next phase in a schoolyard conflict? A stone thrown, perhaps, or unnecessary roughness on the playing field?

  The chill turned to ice in his stomach, and rubbing his wet hands against the Ever-Clean coveralls didn't relieve the clamminess. Some Kin went far beyond childish pranks. His father was dead.

  Fynn retrieved his sweatshirt and carried it to the shower to rinse. If he texted Drew, Fynn knew what he'd say - come onboard the Herschel. He couldn't do that, couldn't abandon the job his father gave him with the furnaces. He couldn't talk to his mother either. Not about a barracks problem. When they had time together, he needed to ask about Tanaka's death. He knew the answer, deep inside, and that left him colder than standing in the shower in half-soaked coveralls.

  Whomp, whomp, whomp. The ceiling reverberated like a drum, flexing the roof panel enough to make Fynn duck. Barracks weren't real buildings, not like on Earth. The walls and ceiling were thin plastic panels that slotted and snapped together.

  He dashed out the door in time to see a horde of Kin running along the barracks toward the village dock, half on the floor and the other half pounding along on rooftops. They moved fast and, bizarrely, in slow motion at the same time. Long hang times between leaps allowed for acrobatics in the air. He watched them round the edge of the playing field, pass the clinic, and gallop to the women's barracks. Half the runners bounded onto those roofs, the new comers with stasis-preserved muscles propelling them effortlessly. They rounded the outside of the mess hall tables, and then came straight at him.