by Ginger Booth
Sass caved to popular demand and allowed that damned VR game to be resuscitated to celebrate the midpoint of the voyage. Cope cobbled together a carnival simulation this time, with the Roman baths and sex slaves tacked on incongruously. Abel’s wife enjoyed the ‘roller-coaster’ far more than he did. The novice Denalis found it all deeply disturbing. The renovation to combine Sass’s room with what was once Copeland and Ben’s, to build a suite for Sass and Clay to share, took over a month and frayed nerves. But Copeland and Ben were happy to swap Kassidy’s old room for Clay’s – Clay had exquisite taste, and the ventilation system provided white noise instead of the bulkhead abutting the galley.
Compared to the trip out, this leg was a cake walk. And now they were nearly home! Abel yearned to feel that ‘baby skin’ the experienced parents talked about. His twins would be learning to walk soon. He fancied the boy looked like him.
Cope slung a hip on the desk as usual. “Problem?”
“Not at all,” Sass assured him. “Today we want to discuss the future.”
“Two alternate visions for your future,” Abel clarified.
“Oh?” Cope asked guardedly.
“We’re splitting up after this voyage,” Sass began. “I think Abel still has a few odds and ends he hasn’t sold yet.”
“Our toilet paper, I hope,” the engineer suggested, his lip curled at the first mate.
“We’re headed in for resupply, chief,” Abel noted with a grin. “I can sell your bed frame if I want. We’ll be ground-side. But Sass’s point is that we’ve done well. Our profits for this journey – very well indeed.”
With pride, the Thrive’s business partner pulled up his spreadsheets and circled the bottom line. Cope boggled most gratifyingly, never having seen quite so many digits on a quantity of money.
“I believe this is your share.” Abel circled an amount he trusted the chief hadn’t imagined in his wildest dreams. “That’s your personal cut of the profits so far. Should be a little more by the time I find a buyer for the toilet paper. And of course your salary and room bonus has been paid monthly like clockwork all along to your Schuyler account. I’d like you to consider how you’d like the profit share disbursed. Not today, perhaps.”
“Good God, Abel,” Cope breathed.
The business partner grinned. He was particularly proud of their profit hero, the gut bacteria. He licensed that to an outstanding firm that offered a stunning lump sum payment rather than a royalty deal.
Sass interjected, “We wanted you to see that first. Because obviously, you have options.”
“I could rego retire on that,” Cope murmured.
“A vacation perhaps. But I hope you’ll find our proposals more interesting. Abel and I would both love to keep you. But the two of us are splitting up. Clay and I have decided to take the ship to Sanctuary.”
Cope leaned back. “Wow, Sass.”
Abel brought up another spreadsheet. “She’s buying me out.” He circled another amazing number of digits behind a credit sign. “Just FYI.”
Sass offered wistfully, “I’d love for you to come with us, John. Ask any modifications to the ship you want. We’re happy to bring Nico along and make allowances.”
Cope smiled softly and shook his head.
“I didn’t think so.” Sass stood. “It’s been an honor and a terror and a privilege, John Copeland. I’ll miss you like hell every minute we’re gone. And we will come back.” She enfolded the engineer in a warm hug. As she released him, she gave him a nod of respect. “This isn’t good-bye. Not yet.”
She exited the office, and Cope rose to follow her.
“My turn,” Abel interrupted. He closed the door and waved for Cope to take Sass’s seat. “Your masterpiece, Cope. She’s taking my ship.” He pointed at the engineer’s chest. “I want to build yours.”
The master’s piece for Copeland’s professional engineering certification was a capstone of his 2 years on the Thrive, designing the next generation. In fact, his design would be not only the latest, but the first ship designed in the Aloha system. He optimized it for the moons and rings of Pono and the occasional side jaunt to Denali, and current technology.
His mouth fell open in astonishment. Cope hadn’t expected to actually build that ship. The money necessary to – He leaned forward over the desk to retrieve those spreadsheets.
Abel blanked them. “No, buddy,” he said in a pained tone. “We invest our know-how, our time and lives and genius. We draw salary. And we make profits along the way. We find other investors to put up the capital. We rent or buy a clunker to put into the ring trade. Bottom line, Cope, my partner Sass is buying me out. I need a new partner. Team up with me. We stay on Mahina and raise our kids and build a future here. For them.”
“Yes.”
“You need time to think about it, and talk it over with –”
“No, I don’t.”
Abel’s smile grew into a blaze, then dampened slightly. “Sass is going to offer Ben your job. Chief engineer.”
“She might,” Cope allowed. “He’d be a fool to take it. If he takes third officer again, he’s still a fool. Because we’d make him a captain instead. And I plan to marry him.”
Abel rose and drew him into a manly handshake-and-hug. “Partners. We have a thousand more things to talk about. A million. For years and years!”
“You know it!”
Abel drew back and asked as an after-thought, “Third officer?”
“Clay will be Sass’s first mate. They might find a business manager to replace you. But they don’t need the money. And those two never make a decision trying to make a profit. Unlike us.”
“She has been so frustrating that way,” Abel agreed. “And I was a novice. But I’ve learned a lot. Come up with a salary figure for me, OK? Have you looked at Schuyler real estate now? Prices are skyrocketing. Factor that in.”
“Abel, I don’t know what to say. Like you’ve taken me to the top of the high mountain, and told me the kingdom was mine.”
“You said yes,” Abel reminded him.
Cope laughed. “I meant thank you. And yes!”
“Don’t tell Ben until Sass and I have our chance at him, OK? The money, the offers, they’re his in his own right. Not as your side-kick.”
“Absolutely.”
Rather than stretch Cope’s restraint to the breaking point, Sass and Abel repeated their pitches to Ben Acosta right away.
His interview with Sass lasted longer. She could see how much he longed for Sanctuary, to continue on past the limits of sad Aloha, into infinity. Cope was the Mahina revolutionary, and supplied the can-do. Ben was the starry eyed adventurer.
But as she predicted, he could not say yes.
Abel made him feel much better with his offer of a captaincy. The young man, not quite graduated from college, aped a swoon off the desk at his estimated payout on the profit share. He left happy indeed, and thrilled to invent the Thrive Company with Abel and Cope.
Sass would miss them so much her heart ached.
But not yet. They hadn’t even reached Mahina yet. Preparing for Sanctuary would take months. Though not years – Clay would growl if she dawdled. She needed to visit Hell’s Bells with the 3rd gen drive, and recruit her new crew. She’d have time to watch the birthing of Abel’s new venture and say their good byes at leisure.
She and Clay had plenty of time.
43
Aurora picked at her clothing, draped from neck to wrists and ankles. She took her place among the Denali delegation waiting in the hold for the cargo door to open. The long journey was at an end. Hundreds awaited them outside on the fused grey rock of the spaceport.
As the lead Denali, she selected Schuyler for their reception, and requested Sagamores as well as Mahinans for their welcoming committee.
That ramp would open with no airlock, no breath masks. There were no trees. The spaceport flat-top was immense, and beyond it mushroom-colored buildings on a regolith background, a dead landscape lit by an enormou
s striped planet in the dark sky. She blew out softly between pursed lips. She missed her bakkra in anxious moments.
Kassidy stepped to her side, flashing that dazzling smile. “This is it – woot! I will have camera drones on you, but so will every other news outlet. Welcome to Mahina!”
“Thank you, Kassidy,” Sass murmured, displacing her. “Ready, Aurora?”
No, Aurora thought. But Quire and Reza and Zan nodded bravely beside her. Not an official delegate, Teke would stick with Copeland and Ben today. She steeled her resolve. “Ready.”
Sass nodded to Abel, who punched the button. The ramp began to lower.
Their first waft of Mahina fresh air hit the Denalis. Whose faces crumpled in revulsion. That air was so dry Aurora could feel it suck the life from her skin. And cold! And dusty, and it reeked of something caustic. Quire bent over gagging. Reza held his nose. Zan stood stoic, but his eyes watered.
“This doesn’t require a breath mask?” Aurora demanded.
“You get used to it,” Sass consoled her. “Don’t forget your sunscreen. You did ask for Schuyler instead of the domes of Mahina Actual.”
The ramp settled. Wilder and Cortez exited first, armed, and fanned out to its bottom front corners to make clear that the ship was off-limits to the crowd. Local security forces squared off against them. Then Kassidy took a running start and somersaulted, then cartwheeled, to land in a deep split curtsy. “I’m back, Mahina! Come on, Dad!” She laughed aloud. “My father, Dr. Michael Yang, pre-eminent medical nanite engineer, recently of Denali!”
Kassidy continued as announcer as they exited the ship. The crowd cheered for the two scientists, then Ben and Copeland and the young stowaway. Copeland swooped up and swung his young child high through the air, to peals of giggles. Ben took a turn hurling the infant as well.
Abel and Jules strode out to take their bows and were swallowed by a family reunion. They hastened off to meet their babies, who awaited in a creche. Too young to expose to the awful air, no doubt.
Sass turned and nodded respect to Aurora. “Time.”
Kassidy called out, “Our beloved Captain Sassafras Collier, and Clay Rocha!” Sass and Clay strode out. They gave a dignified nod, to enthusiastic applause. They parted to either side, each extending an arm to beckon forth the Denalis.
Aurora raised her chin and stepped forth. She forgot her grav generator, and bounced at the threshold. Mahina would take some getting used to. At least she had friends.
“Come in, come in!” Jules met Ben and Cope at the door of a huge house in an upscale neighborhood, only a 10 minute walk from the Schuyler trucking docks. She clapped her hands in excitement and bounced on her toes. “What do you think?”
Copeland laughed out loud. “A bit out of our price range, I think.” They’d been looking all day. They hadn’t accomplished much beyond sore feet. Cope hated to rely on one of Schuyler’s planned radial rails, sure that most nights he’d miss the last train. And those weren’t even running yet, so he’d miss the last hayride.
But they despaired of finding anything better than a flophouse within a reasonable walk of the spaceport. Now they were talking powered bicycles, the kind with balloon tires for the outer regolith gravel roads, with a wagon for Nico and shopping.
Schuyler was growing like crazy. The housing supply couldn’t keep up. Ben quipped that maybe they should drop engineering and build an apartment high-rise.
Cope hoped he was joking. Of all the things the revolutionary aspired to, landlord rated down there with prison guard and urb militia – traitor to his cause. But his partner’s idealism veered in other directions.
“How are you going to fill all this, Jules?” Ben asked. The living room floor seemed bigger than Thrive’s cargo hold. Though perhaps that was simply a lack of furniture.
Jules drew them around the corner to find Abel measuring in the kitchen. He turned with a grin. “How are you finding the housing market?”
“Overpriced,” said Ben. “Almost tempted to switch our plans to Mahina Actual.”
Copeland growled, “Schuyler is my home town!”
Jules snuggled under Abel’s arm, eyebrows raised. Abel pointedly looked around his mansion. “Cheaper with two families.”
“Work together and live together?” Ben asked.
Jules started bouncing again in excitement. “That’s the perfect part! We’ve been living and working together since I was 15!”
She was a sophisticated 17 now, and the mother of two. A brochure for a Basics of Infant Care class lay on the kitchen island. Cope picked it up to glance at the syllabus. He and his wife never had that.
Abel pointed out, “Could share one company shuttle.”
“Come see the back yard for the kids!” Jules tugged Copeland out to a yard of posh proportions, already sporting mature hay grass, spruce, and aspen, all three available species of landscape plant.
Or no – Eli’s scrubber trees made it out into the wild. Copeland investigated and picked a sticky fig in wonder, from a very young tree. He bit into it. Yes, every bit as awful as Sass’s olives and grapefruit. He spit it out and laughed.
“OK, Abel’s going to buy this house no matter what,” Cope joked. “Financial ruin be damned.”
Jules agreed. “You know how much we love the scrubber trees! Especially in the city.” She made a show of sniffing the figs. “And I thought you might want to build a play scape for Nico by the greenhouse.”
Abel and Ben paused in the fancy French doors. No bugs or pseudo-pterodactyls pestered a Mahina household. Half the living room simply opened onto the back yard. They could even have pets.
“How many bedrooms?” Cope asked, drifting slowly inside through another pair of doors.
“Seven,” Abel replied, leading the way. “Four in the wing I thought of for you. The double garage in back belongs to the house, for tools and vehicles. A big enough driveway to park a flyer or two.”
Cope followed him through the proposed four rooms, one enormous and three small, each with its own bath. “Your Dad’s room,” he pointed out to Ben. “Teke. And the nursery. Unless you want the nursery in your wing, Jules?”
“You don’t want Nico to have his own room?” Jules replied in surprise.
Cope shook his head slowly. “Staying with us overnight is a holiday. The kids should bunk together for now. Family.”
“Family,” Abel agreed, with a grin. “Extra rooms are for guests. Lots of guests.”
Copeland shared a long glance with Ben, who replied, “We can split up later if we want. But if we’re having such trouble finding a place –”
“Yeah, what about our employees?” Cope asked Abel.
Jules answered. “Oh, I bought an apartment building,. A block of townhouses with a lovely courtyard in the middle. I’ll make a mint off rent, I bet!”
Abel beamed at his young wife proudly.
Copeland consoled himself that at least it wasn’t him becoming a landlord. “Alright. We’d love to. Let’s talk numbers.”
Eli wandered into his lab first thing when he reached Mahina Actual again. He hadn’t kept an apartment in the city, just a storage locker somewhere. He should find that sometime, he supposed, but his lab had a couch to sleep on.
This low-prestige lab was a good 20 minute walk from the MA front doors, banished to the outer reaches of official indifference. As the doors sighed closed behind him, Eli noted again just how claustrophobic and sterile the windowless place was, for a group dedicated to landscape plants.
A grad student, lounging at a terminal, rocketed to her feet in horror. “Sir! Dr. Rasmussen sir!” A few others lurked in side labs, but it was the weekend.
Eli frowned at the unfamiliar young woman. “You are –?”
“Ah, I’m on rotation –”
“Good.” Eli didn’t stop to chat. He continued to his office, its door hanging open for the convenience of the cleaning robots that scuttled through. He leaned on the jamb, utterly repulsed by his chair and work displays. His most cove
ted equipment had long since gone walkabout. Actually, come to think of it, his best stuff he’d stolen to take with him on Thrive.
“Uh, Ms…” he hailed the grad student.
“Trudy Gallagher,” she supplied hopefully, and scurried to join him.
“Trudy. How many trees do we have in the warehouse?”
“Only saplings are left, sir. Everything over age two years is transplanted out to settler communities.”
Eli nodded thoughtfully. “Why are we here, Ms. Gallagher?”
Trudy was sadly accustomed to philosophical pop quizzes from professors. “Our lab mission is to fill Mahina’s primary productivity niche to support a richer ecosystem.” Safe answer – the framed mission statement was by the door. “I’m very excited to –”
“Do you see any reason that mission should be located at the ass end of the MA science wing?”
Perhaps Trudy sensed this was a trick question. “We participate fully in the scientific mission and rich educational facilities of Mahina University. Um, I’m a grad student.”
“I’ve never met you before in my life, have I, Trudy?”
“No, sir. But I’m eager to –”
“Skip it, Trudy. I hate suck-ups. Not my point.” At last propelled by an intriguing question, Eli slipped into his chair – well, someone else’s broken chair swapped in, anyway. Two years, after all. If his name plate was still on the door, then no one else wanted the space.
He brought up a display which tracked progress at turning Mahina green, and zoomed into the area around Schuyler. He found another schematic of the landscape water lines, the main pipes that towns and farms tapped into. Schuyler itself was too expensive for what he had in mind, but – Yes. Halfway between the city and some ville named Castaway was a water pumping station, with no settlement.