Decision Point (ARC)

by Bryan Thomas Schmidt

  arced up and caught sunlight, glittering with a spray of rocks

  where the tightly knit group of Worthies had built habitation

  modules, storage depots, greenhouse domes. All those artificial

  structures should have formed the backbone of a carefully

  engineered society. A magnificent colony. Standing alone, Rex

  considered the grand aspirations of visionary Ardet Hollings,

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  who had founded the Worthies.

  Now there were three empty seats at the dinner table. All

  families had suffered similar losses in the recent space battle.

  As the emotional currents moved around him, Rex imagined

  himself as a rock in a fast-flowing stream, as in the library images

  he liked to view. Images of natural beauty were the only parts of

  Earth that Ardet had allowed them to see, claiming that

  everything else was too corrupt. He found the lovely landscape

  scenes very soothing, the rushing waters, the crashing ocean

  waves, the silvery waterfalls. Rex had never visited Earth, and

  he never would, especially not now.

  Though he could not personally experience extreme moods,

  he still recognized the agitation from his mother and his two

  sisters-in-law. It was like learning a foreign language. Even little

  Max was affected by the tension; the boy clung fussily to his

  Uncle Rex, who was two years younger than his father. Rex

  picked up his unsettled nephew, whispering soft words that

  soothed him. Max stopped crying, giggled once, then played with

  his uncle’s hair. They both looked out the window. “See the

  planet? Isn’t it pretty?” As a first-born, Max would never be

  subjected to the implant, or the operation. If Rex hadn’t been so

  calm, he might have envied the little boy.

  Mother emerged from the kitchen unit, forcing a bright smile.

  She looked wrung-out and pale, overworked, overwhelmed, but

  not willing to surrender any ground to Fate. She would keep

  doing what she must, regardless of the circumstances. As the

  wife of Ardet Hollings, she had always been an excellent

  example for other Worthy women to emulate, filling her role,

  doing her tasks, never overstepping the boundaries. Rex thought

  she was perfect. Even knowing the terrible things that had

  happened to the colony, and what they could expect from the

  Earth military forces, her job was to manage their home and keep

  the family unit intact. Mother would die before she gave up any

  of those tasks, no matter what outside threat might be coming

  their way.

  “Today is our special day, so we have a feast. Twenty-one

  years ago today Ardet led us away from Earth and brought us

  here to form our model society.” She said the phrases she had

  memorized. Her husband had written the original Independence

  Day speech, and the words had become canon. “We came here

  to find peace, despite the hardships we knew we would have to

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  face and without interference from outsiders.”

  Rex intoned the benediction along with his two sisters-in-

  law, “Peace despite hardship.” He handed the now-happy toddler

  back to Ann, tapping Max on the nose and making him giggle

  one last time before the meal.

  Mother brought out platters of fresh vegetables grown in the

  greenhouse domes. At the end of his shift that day, Rex had

  brought home the best from the harvest, far more than they really

  needed to eat. There were ears of bright yellow corn, bowls of

  green beans, leafy salads dressed with spicy herbed sauces.

  Tofumeat added extra protein.

  With all greenhouse systems perfectly functional, at last, the

  productivity in the domes was enough to feed a population

  beyond even Ardet’s greatest dreams—and now that so many

  colonists had died, there was extra food for the table. Silver

  linings. Rex smiled at the thought. He served himself sliced

  tomatoes so red they made the eyes ache.

  “There isn’t much reason to celebrate,” grumbled Ann as she

  took her seat next to one of the empty spots. When Max fussed,

  she set the toddler on her knee and absently shushed him. Rex

  offered to take the boy, but Ann shook her head.

  Mother would not let anything derail her purpose. “It is still

  our Independence Day. We have always celebrated it, and we’ll

  do so again this year. Our men would want it that way.”

  “Who knows what will happen next year?” Rex said,

  meaning to be optimistic. He let events flow toward him and

  accepted whatever came. He, like so many others of his

  generation, was kept on an even keel, cooperative, causing no

  trouble. Ardet had wanted it that way.

  Instead, his comment stung the others there. Rex could see

  expressions fall and felt their turbulent anxiety: grief for lost

  husbands, fear of the inevitable end of their way of life, anger at

  the enemy that had robbed the Worthies of their future. No matter

  how brave their deaths had been while standing against the

  invaders, the men were still dead.

  “I’m … sorry for what I said. It was insensitive.”

  “That’s all right, Rex. You can’t help it,” Mother said.

  Dark-eyed Jen, the widow of his brother Ian, took a seat

  across from Rex, moving as if in a daze. She had full lips, a lush

  figure, and a once-sparkling personality that had made her an

  extremely desirable mate. Ian had been the envy of many

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  Worthies when she’d accepted his proposal of marriage, and

  Ardet himself had blessed the union. Rex had been very pleased

  for both of them, hoping they would have many children … but

  there hadn’t been time. He could sense Jen’s sorrow at that now,

  the suffocating weight of lost opportunities.

  It all flowed past him. He was a rock in a stream. That was

  as much as the implant, and his altered body, allowed him to be.

  Since Rex was the only “man” there, Mother asked him to

  say a brief prayer for Lee and Ian, as well as their father and all

  of the fallen heroes. Rex mouthed the memorized words in his

  thin, piping voice. Then they all joined in an uninspired but

  adequate recitation of Ardet’s traditional Independence Day

  benediction. When he finished speaking, everyone murmured,

  “As Ardet said.”

  Giving him a shy smile, Jen served Rex one of the ears of

  corn, took a smaller one for herself, then passed the plate down

  to where Ann was struggling with Max while scooping up some

  beans. Ann had a round face and curly brown hair. When her

  husband was still alive, she had kept herself beautiful for him,

  but in the months since Lee had fallen, she’d had little

  opportunity to do so, especially with caring for Max.

  Rex knew that Ann struggled to be strong, to follow Mother’s

  example; Worthy women were groomed to be exceptionally

  competent in their well-defined areas of responsibility, and to

  rely on the men to
fulfill their own duties. But not even Ardet,

  with his grand dreams and detailed societal models, had

  envisioned the possibility of an entire stratum vanishing

  practically overnight.

  Ann asked, “How soon do you suppose the DPs will be

  here?” She spoke as if it were casual mealtime conversation,

  though Rex could hear the tension, like brittle glass in her voice.

  “I’ll have no such talk at the table.” Mother passed the salad

  bowl around again and urged them to eat. “This isn’t the time for

  it.” “I’m afraid,” Jen said in a small voice, looking directly at

  Rex. He glanced away, knowing what she wanted from him but

  unable to give it. He felt so sorry for her.

  The Democratic Progressives had dispatched a retaliatory

  force to crush them, and everyone knew it was only a matter of

  time. The Worthies had already sacrificed all their fighting men

  against the first small exploratory force that had come to Saturn.

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  Ardet, Lee, Ian, and the other men in the Worthy settlement had

  defeated the enemy that day, but at incredible cost to themselves.

  The remaining colonists would have no chance when Earth’s

  reinforcements arrived at Saturn. For months now, Rex had felt

  the uneasy panic wafting among the colony survivors like the

  wind from a laboring air recycler.

  But he remained calm. All newts remained calm. Ardet had

  thought it for the best.

  After the meal, his belly full, Rex helped out in the kitchen

  unit, cleaning dishes, recycling scraps. Though Worthy men did

  not do such work, newts were allowed to perform some duties

  traditionally reserved for women. Besides, Rex had designed or

  refined some of the household recycling systems himself, and he

  knew how to keep them functioning at peak efficiency.

  Jen offered to help him while Ann and Mother played with

  Max in the main living area. One of Ardet’s old recorded

  speeches played on the screen; crowds of exuberant new

  colonists cheered, giddy with their recent separation from Earth

  and assured of a bright future if only they followed the rigid

  Worthy plan.

  Jen stood uncomfortably close to Rex in the cramped kitchen

  unit. He used a squeegee to scrape food into a compost-recycler

  and stored the serving plates in the sanitizer, which used water

  reclaimed from the abundant ice in Saturn’s rings. For a while,

  she made light conversation, though he could hear a deep and

  desperate huskiness to her voice, a longing and a need. After a

  long pause, Jen said in a very low whisper, “Rex, I ache every

  time I see you. Do you know how much you remind me of Ian?

  You look so much like him.”

  “I am his brother. We’ve always looked a lot alike.”

  She slipped her arms around his waist. “Face me.”

  He felt awkward, interrupted in his work, but he dutifully

  turned. He looked at Jen’s oval face, her delicate chin. Both of

  his brothers’ wives were beautiful women, yet Rex felt no desire

  for his sisters-in-law. Still, he loved them deeply. Jen must have

  seen it on his face. He stroked her hair, trying to calm her, as he

  had done with Max.

  Growing bolder, she pressed her soft breasts against his

  chest, then tilted her face. She kissed him, at first tentatively, then

  ferociously. Her lips were moist and pleasant, warm, wanting

  more than he was capable of giving. “I miss him so much, Rex.

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  I’m so lonely.”

  “We’re all lonely.” He gently extricated himself, patted her

  on the shoulder, as a brother would, and reminded her of what

  she already knew. “I’m not entirely like Ian. I’m missing some

  of my parts.”

  Though he had not intended to upset her in any way, he

  experienced her reaction like whitecaps crashing against a sea

  cliff. Another library image from Earth … Rebuffed, Jen backed

  to the door of the kitchen unit. He could not experience the same

  reactions, with all the highs and lows of passion clipped from

  him, but he very much wanted to understand. “I’m sorry,” he said

  automatically, hoping it would defuse the tension simmering in

  her. “Don’t be angry.”

  Dark hair swirled around her as she tossed her head and

  looked at him with a flicker of … disgust? “How can you keep

  us safe from the DPs? They’re coming! You know what they’re

  like. They’ll destroy us all.”

  Rex blinked at her, struggling to quell the situation. Yes, he

  had heard Ardet’s speeches on the evils of Earth, the manic greed

  and violence of the Democratic Progressives. Rex, born here in

  the new colony, had never experienced Earth except through his

  father’s harsh descriptions, but he believed the stories of a

  lawless society in which no member knew his or her place. After

  great struggle and persecution, the Worthies had broken away

  from that, coming far enough out here into unclaimed territory

  that they could achieve their potential, following Ardet’s social

  map. Rex was part of that; they all were.

  “We all have our tasks, Jen. I’m a newt. You know that being

  a fighter—or a lover—is not one of my duties.” He offered a

  comforting smile. “I can do many things, Jen, just not what

  you’re looking for right now.” Rex squared his shoulders, as he

  had seen his brothers do. “But if we don’t stay the course in our

  darkest hour, then we dishonor Ardet. He gave us our

  instructions. If we cast them aside now, then we are no better

  than the people from Earth.”

  It was an intellectual argument, the kind Rex was best at, and

  he could see that it did not convince Jen’s heart. After she left

  him in a swirl of anger and fear, he went back to finish the

  kitchen chores by himself.

  *

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  The handful of intact Worthy men insisted they would go

  down fighting for their principles, their way of life. Rex was

  physically, and chemically, prevented from feeling the same

  passionate resolve, but he could admire their determination, their

  bravery, their refusal to give up. He was sure Ardet Hollings

  would have been proud.

  Shortly after their independence day, Rex and a dozen newts

  were removed from their daily assignments and sent out into the

  space rubble field with Commander Joseph Heron. Heron was

  old, scarred, and impatient, one of only twenty-three male

  survivors of the initial battle against the Democratic

  Progressives. Listening to him rail against Fate, Rex wondered if

  Heron had spent the last several months wishing that he too had

  died in the conflict. But if he had, who would defend the

  Worthies against the decadent and despicable DPs?

  From the time he was child, Rex had been trained how to suit

  up and how to perform outside functions. He was perfectly

&n
bsp; capable of performing tasks out in hard vacuum, as were his

  fellow newts. They were well-educated, even-tempered workers

  who remained unruffled in a crisis. They would complete their

  tasks as required, no matter how anxious and uptight

  Commander Heron and his desperate soldiers might be.

  Scouts had already combed the space battlefield for any

  wreckage they could salvage, but Heron insisted on trying again

  and again. The vagaries of gravity in the rings churned up new

  discoveries, like repressed emotions coming to the surface. Rex

  was sure nothing remained to be found, but the commander had

  nothing to cling to but dogged optimism. Rex was surprised, and

  pleased, when the searches paid off: Far from where anyone

  expected gravity and momentum to have carried it, they

  discovered a nearly intact DC ship.

  Leaving Heron in charge was yet another example of Ardet’s

  great wisdom: No newt would have bothered to keep searching.

  “This is our greatest break yet, men,” the commander said

  over the suit intercom as their shuttle approached. Heron allowed

  only a small touch of irony when he said “men.” His voice held

  an edge, as if anger could inspire the newts to greater dedication,

  but the implants continued to keep them controlled, calm. It was

  the most reasonable way to get a tough job done. After the

  Worthies’ early years of near-starvation, Ardet had based much

  of his plan on that basic idea …

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  Heron named the wreck Flying Dutchman after an old Earth

  ghost story. The Dutchman’s hull had been breached in several

  places, venting its atmosphere and killing the small crew. When

  their shuttle circled the derelict, Rex studied the configuration,

  making mental notes about what needed to be repaired. Decades

  ago, when leaving their tainted planet behind, Ardet’s followers

  had purchased brute-force commercial vessels to haul people and

  equipment on a one-way trip to Saturn. This DC exploratory ship

  was faster, its lines sleeker, its potential greater than anything the

  colonists had used.

  When the shuttle docked against the Dutchman’s cold hull,

  Heron addressed his men and the newts. “Inside this wreck, there

  may be energy weapons, explosive projectiles, something we can