by Ginger Booth
That much they’d accomplished by now. The air quality was great, check. The cafeteria remained chilly, but the medics preferred it that way, and it was no longer dangerously cold in the star-side night. Whether the cooling would work after the sun rose… Eli made a note of that concern. But they’d be long gone by sunrise.
The sanitation facilities were inadequate for this many people once they roused. He remembered Margaux’s competence. That problem he could safely leave in their hands. He was less confident of the paddy medics on resuscitation. The security forces, he decided, callously assigning the urb cops a chore. Whether they liked it or not, they would not arrive here without rendering emergency medical assistance. Kassidy would see to that.
He paused in his walk-through and surreptitiously watched a paddy family group, mother and grandmother soothing children, the father too ill to be much use. Resilient people, accustomed to violent adversity and criminal neglect. He admired their tenacity. Flashing hex signs at everyone wasn’t the most effective form of defiance. But disciplined by asphyxiation, this was the only resistance they could afford. Psychic spirit OK.
But the food supply was not. He nodded to himself in decision, and affixed his helmet for privacy as he completed his circuit and landed back in the kitchen.
“Ben, Cope, got a minute? Eli reporting in.”
“Eli!” Ben acknowledged. “We’re getting down to the wire.”
“Understood,” Eli replied. “Potable water?”
Cope said, “Online now, just flushing the pipes. You could open the galley faucets for me.”
Eli stepped to the vast sinks and yanked on half a dozen handles. The brownish gray flow, foaming with detergent, looked repulsive. To judge by the scrunched noses of the technicians, it smelt as bad as it looked. But the initial sludge was clearing. “Done. The reason I’m calling. Top priority at this point is a soy printer.”
Ben suggested, “If all else fails, soak a protein brick in water and eat it.”
“You asked me to evaluate,” Eli reminded him. “I’m telling you. Psychologically, they need the printer. They need familiar food in outrageously strange surroundings. They cannot get it from the supplies at hand. Unless we leave them with a soy printer, I’m afraid they won’t eat what we leave them. And that’s their only option.”
“Ben?” Cope prompted.
“That’s your recommendation?” Ben objected. “Take my galley printer?”
“You guys have performed miracles on environmental,” Eli soothed. “Their technicians are surprisingly good. We’ve got vast medical needs here, and the world will be watching while the urb cops put up and shut up. But a little familiar food would go a long, long way. They have enough with the soy stock, and that’ll provide everything they need to recover and do the work on their new place. But they need to eat it.”
“Ben, we can buy a new one,” Cope suggested softly.
After another moment, Ben blew out and acquiesced. “Alright. Thank you, Eli, for a fantastic evaluation. As always. I’ll ask Teke to yank the printer for you. Make sure you demo how to use it ASAP. And program it for your emotional sustenance.” He snorted.
“Thank you,” Eli said sincerely. “And guys, truly, incredible work.”
“You too, Eli. They’ll be OK?” Cope prompted.
“They can be,” Eli judged. “Up to them. Eli out.”
He spared a moment to tell the pair of ‘techniques’ on the floor to give up and rest, then headed off at a trot. Prosper had returned to the main parking lot by this point. Thanks to his enforced daily run, the botanist made it in a few minutes. Once inside, he only paused to leave his helmet by the big cargo door.
“Eli!” Willow screamed. “Get me down from here.”
The computer donged a few notes preparatory to an announcement, and intoned, “On orders of Teke, First Mate Willow Arbuckle is to be left dangling.”
Eli smirked in appreciation. Even at 17, the stowaway had been scary thorough at revenge. He gravity-hopped up to the catwalk and strode into the galley. “What did Willow do to piss you off?”
Teke was already applying tools to the extract-the-printer problem. A top-of-the-line built-in, the contraption was about 2x1x1 meters and wedded to the cabinets. “Give me a hand?”
Eli doffed the top half of his pressure suit to dangle from his utility belt. Then he helped Teke jigger the printer out another few centimeters, still seeking access to its water and power connections. The appliance was truly not designed for their roll-out maintenance convenience. Teke slapped another grav lifter underneath to cancel out its weight and gave it another hard yank from the middle. That worked. He kneeled on the counter, draping himself over the box to get at the power connection.
Eli checked his side, and found he could reach the water hose. “You shut these off?”
“Yeah, I cut power and water first. Willow tried to steal the ship,” the physicist replied belatedly. “You think maybe a white board underneath? Take crew suggestions on what to do with her.”
“Steal the ship?” Eli echoed. “Space her. But I wanted to do that already, so. A shame you didn’t gag her.”
“No,” Teke argued. “She’s her own worst enemy. The more she talks, the more people agree to space her.” Both chuckled. “Done on my side. Want me to…no, you’re doing fine.”
Eli brained himself on the cabinet hole. There was a screw sticking out there to stab him, too. A bit of blood showed on his palm after he rubbed the spot. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I build my own instruments. There, got it.”
“I know,” Teke agreed. “You’re one of the scientists I admire and emulate. Thank you, Professor.”
“Too kind,” Eli acknowledged, but crimped his lip in enjoyment. “Good work, Professor. Teaching anything good lately?” They guided the levitating printer to a grav lifter awaiting in the dining area.
“Freshman E&M,” Teke admitted grimly. “Five hundred students. So sorry to walk out on that.”
Eli barked a laugh. “I caught Terraforming 101 this semester. Eight hundred. Damned shame.” They traded high-fives. “Clean it?”
“No time.” Teke retrieved the grav generator from the underside of the printer, and slapped the grav lifter power on. “I’ll get you as far as the ramp. I’m ship security today.”
“I can relate,” Eli breathed. Conversation lapsed as they guided the bulky machine downstairs. Before they reached the door, Zan and Wilder burst in. Wilder dove for the ladder access to the shuttle. Zan took a flying leap on gravity from mid cargo-hold toward the bridge.
“Computer,” Teke noted, “I grant full navigational access, shuttle only, to Sergeant…”
“Isfahan,” Eli supplied.
“Sergeant Isfahan Wilder.”
Ding-dong. “Access confirmed,” replied the computer.
Teke hung at the ramp, torn. “Stay,” Eli told him.
“Hurry,” Teke exhorted. “If they’re back…”
“I know. Time’s run out.”
One last round surveying the cameras – check. Kassidy had a live feed from above the KM-2 entrance, pointed at the ships. Two angles on the paddies in the main cafeteria. And one closeup camera for personal conversations with the immense display she’d installed facing the whole room.
Kassidy was especially proud of her installation job on the display. Anyone who touched the power button would get mildly electrocuted, and the display wouldn’t turn off. Likewise the volume slider, purely under remote control. She was hardly Cope’s favorite assistant back on the Thrive – in fact, mostly he gave her to Jules for housekeeping – but she learned, and she specialized in comms.
Now it was time, and past time. But fresh from her humiliating sales performance on Mahina Orbital, she took a moment to prepare her inner game. She wasn’t selling to asteroid miners today. No, today she bonded with her old avatars from her starlet days, bored Alice and overworked Josh the settlers, and the sophisticated urbs Beauregard and secretly girly Eliza.
&nb
sp; Plus the paddies and Saggies of Saggytown, she allowed. She’d have to channel the bustling crew still around her for their reaction. Lavelle’s people were carrying in the final racks of refugees from their containers. Denali too would watch from afar, but they had no agency around distant Pono. No, the crucial opinions today were those of Alice and Josh. Who lately had been taught to hate her, as a symbol of urb superiority and undeserved wealth, and paddies, as creepy thieves out to steal their jobs. Help me, Beau and Eliza. You get me.
Kassidy checked her makeup and hair – perfect. She breathed deep into her navel and flopped forward in a rag doll. She bent knees to the floor and straightened her legs, feeling the satisfying burn of the stretch in her hamstrings. She rolled her torso up one vertebra at a time.
“Excuse me, Kassidy,” Quire interrupted gently. “Ben says we need to be out of here in 5 minutes max. You’ll still be broadcasting from the ship.”
Oops, ready or not… She enabled her mikes. “Sharon! Kassidy Yang. I’m ready to begin!” She only found a single network to commit to carry her first broadcast, the lowest ranked of the urb news outlets. Settler news backed Carmack.
“About rego time,” Sharon grumbled. “Live in 3, 2, 1.”
“Hello, Mahina!” she belted to her closeup camera drone. “I’m speaking to you from KM-2 on the mysterious star side.” Her own enormous face took up the display behind her, showing every nose pore. Paddies recoiled, then peered in wonder, heads shifting between the live woman and the giant on the wall.
She edged her drone back, and panned around, showing the refugees. “The site of a new Mahina community of Sagamore refugees. Not long ago, these unfortunates were agricultural slaves. Genetically modified to live their lives in small underground tunnels, growing fish and rice for their abusive overlords.
“Brave Captain Pierre Lavelle and his ship Gossamer extracted these poor souls from Mahina’s sister moon. Lifted to the rings, they were placed in cold sleep for storage. Like our ancestors were, on the colony ships Vitality and Manatee.” The earlier Manatee brought her own ancestors, the urbs, the first wave of terraformers. “Today, like our frozen and frightened forbears, they begin life anew on Mahina.”
Quire shot her another urgent neck-cutting gesture. Eli trotted from the galley. Presumably he’d finished his lightning lessons on how to render soy printer stock edible. Kassidy belatedly noticed that Lavelle’s crew had split already. Oops.
She reeled in her closeup drone again, and enacted listening, anxious, to an approaching sound. She leaned into the camera. “I have to go now. Urb security is arriving.” She allowed herself another wide-eyed turn of the head. “I’ll tell you more soon. For now, watch these gentle souls for me, would you? You, simply by watching, are their protection, their salvation. MA Security will not harm them, not before your very eyes. I’ll contact you again soon from orbit. Kassidy Yang out.”
“That’s it?” Sharon grumbled. “A couple minutes and webcams trained on sick people?”
But Kassidy swooped up her helmet and ran through the door Eli held open for her, impatiently tapping his foot. “You’re only mad because you could have used two more minutes if you knew you had it.”
“Run!” Eli countered.
69
After hauling in the engineering tools with Cope, Ben’s first order of business was Willow. Well, I don’t have to solve Willow, he consoled himself. No, he only needed to decide whether to kick her ass out the door now, or in the rings. With or without benefit of space station or p-suit – that choice could wait.
He was in a tearing hurry right now.
He bounded up on grav-assist and caught one of the guylines they used for zero-g EVA ball games in the hold. He grinned at the bungee cord. Nice touch, Teke! He reached out and gave it a good yank to start her bouncing. Willow remained silent until then, trying to get on his good side, no doubt. She squawked as the lurching yo-yo motion resumed.
“Tell me why I should let you stay and help these paddies,” Ben demanded. “Make it quick.”
“You can’t,” Teke responded before Willow got a chance. Ben glanced up to find the physicist leaning over the catwalk above. “Corporate security. She’s a liability. Hunter’s presence here. Our plans. Our IP. Who knows what she learned at MO.”
Ben nodded slowly. “Well, that leaves me few options,” he confided to Willow. “A liability is something I can no longer afford. Enjoy takeoff, bitch.”
“You frill bastard!”
“Not a wise choice for last words,” Ben noted. He got moving again with a little gravity directed toward Teke, and accepted a hand over the railing. “Good work, Teke. Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her.”
“You were smart to lock out the computer. I’ll stay and guard her.”
“No. You’re too valuable. Seal up in your cabin. Now.”
Ben didn’t wait to see if the order was obeyed. With long strides, he made straight for the bridge. He clapped Zan on the shoulder in greeting and slid into the pilot seat beside him. “Wilder, you in?” Ben hailed.
“Holding off company 20 klicks out,” the sergeant replied.
Ben wondered how, exactly, but that could keep til over drinks tonight. “No longer relevant. Back to the barn as fast as you can. And seal up. You’ll remain in the shuttle until I release from takeoff.”
“Aye sar.”
“Zan, take us up a klick.”
“Counter-indicated, sar,” Zan replied. “At the moment, we’re using a known civilian encampment as a shield. Up there, they can shoot at us if we sit still.”
“Noted, belay the order. Cope, talk to me, takeoff readiness.” Ben’s fingers flew, multitasking, selecting his trajectory out of here. Not MO, he decided. Lavelle was headed straight for Hell’s Bells. For Prosper, out of the rings would suffice for today.
“– two minutes,” Cope completed his report, most of which the captain hadn’t caught.
Ben zeroed in on his trajectory, takeoff at a low angle nearly opposite the direction of the urb security flyers. He adjusted his vector so at closest approach, the two nearest asteroid defense guns would risk damaging each other or an atmo spire if they tried to hole him. Best he could do. “All hands, takeoff is imminent. Secure yourselves. Chief, down to zero seconds yet?”
“Close enough,” the engineer allowed.
“Now,” Ben said, and pressed a button. “Wilder, you’re docking in motion, feeding you the course.”
Wilder laughed out loud. “Epic!”
“Hurry up,” Ben growled. He spotted the shuttle on sensors and debated whether to veer toward him. He concluded he didn’t trust Wilder’s piloting skills that much – better to stick to course and – “Gotcha!” He latched onto the fragile little ship with his grav grapples and yanked it in with a clang.
“Ow.” Wilder acknowledged. “That was fun.”
“Takeoff is now,” Ben reminded him. “Pressure?” He locked the shuttle in place from his console.
“Good to go!” Wilder acknowledged immediately. He must have punched the seal button at the same moment, because Ben’s display lagged half a second to confirm.
Zan spoke up, “Gun AA-37 firing at us. And AA-56. And maybe a skyship from behind.”
“Goosing it,” Ben acknowledged, goosing the thrusters until he redlined the inertial dampeners. He felt that kick like a donkey.
“Steady, Ben,” Cope urged.
“Sorry, chief, but some urbs think my skyship is dispensable.”
“I disagree,” Cope played along. “Getting warm out there, Ben.”
That was the downside of a low angle exit. Ben put on way too much speed inside the atmosphere. Sky-side, they must have looked like a rising meteor. Not that anyone sky-side gazed out their windows during the days-long night. A shame, that, because glorious stars showed above him.
Just a few more seconds, Ben judged. And – there, MO was out of his sky. He punched another button for the auto-pilot and guns to take over. A jouncing lurch escaped the inertia
l dampeners at the sudden shift upward. And Ben leaned back and breathed out.
Zan raised his hands in surrender above the gunnery console. Prosper took over the guns and blasted itself a rock-free path, rolling the ship for a better shot.
Ben suddenly leaned forward and checked for mine skiffs again. But no, he was way outside their activities today. He considered telling everyone to stand down. But that could wait until they were out of the rings. The captain quite liked these interludes with all his crew standing still, locked in place, while he communed with his ship and the stars. Like a moment poised between the past and the future, traversing the clear crystalline cold ballistics of now.
“Wilder, still alive?” he inquired belatedly.
“Got a bit toasty,” the sergeant allowed. “Nothing the auto-doc can’t fix. Hurts.”
“Go ahead to med bay, just hang on and watch your step. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be! Haven’t had that kind of fun in years!”
And the rocks thinned into clean space, and Ben’s happy frozen moment of now sublimed off into vacuum. Nothing left but to pay the piper – a bill Spaceways could truly not afford. Or the Copeland-Acosta family. His eyes winced shut.
“All hands, release from takeoff. Chief, my board says we’re OK. Yours?”
“The ship is OK,” Cope cadged his response. “Could use some quality time with the dampeners. Drive gently for a while, alright?”
“That’s affirm.” Ben cut the comms.
He gazed out the window before him, then switched the display to Mahina, shrinking away behind. He’d said this too many times. Funny, how he felt it every time, as though somewhere inside, a little boy cried. Today the sensation was stronger than usual. He gulped. “Goodbye Mahina. I’ll be back,” he vowed.
Zan intoned, “Goodbye dad. Goodbye children.”