by Ginger Booth
“Hugo, tell Cupid to restore normal gravity.”
“I can’t from out here.”
Sass looked back. She considered the challenge of explaining to Hugo how to go about this safely.
She got on her comms instead. “Porter, Zelda. How are we doing on water barrels?”
“Only two left to fill!” Zelda reported proudly.
“Excellent work! Be sure to put all the spaceport equipment back exactly as you found it,” Sass encouraged, feeling like a rego hypocrite.
No. She shouldn’t leave Cupid in this condition. She sighed.
“OK, Hugo. You stand here, and yell at the computer once I have the inner lock open. Ready?”
She entered the door lock and told Hugo to order the computer to set gravity to 180 degrees upward from the centerline. As soon as she felt the shift, she flipped to the ceiling, rolling with the ship’s current gravity. A cacophony of crashing robots came from inside the hold as she cringed by the outer door, upside-down from Hugo. When the clattering and whirring died down a little, she peeked in. Good. The trapdoor was clear. The robots probably weren’t in good health.
But hey, that was the life of a mining robot, right? How would I know? Sagamore miners used men and tools. Mahina Actual robots tended toward manufacturing, with less intelligence than a turnip.
Relayed through Hugo, Sass told Cupid to close the trapdoor, then restore gravity to ship normal. The door airlock she closed for herself.
“Barrels full!” Porter relayed in triumph.
“Well done!” Sass assured him. “And is the hose put away neatly?” Utter hypocrite… Gee, she’d closed the doors and restored gravity. She’d also left the ship’s hold full of broken robots. Uh, I was just looking around. Granted, fixing the robots was Shiva’s problem, and Shiva’s fault. Somehow she doubted the mayors would see it that way, let alone Clay.
She and Hugo strolled to the barrels. In an excess of paranoia, Sass stood well back while Hugo tested a couple barrel caps at random for a good seal. Two didn’t even have caps on.
“Zelda? Here. Now.” Sass made her go though the water barrels, systematically, in order, and tighten every cap. “It’s such a blessing to see you happy! And thinking! Now picture yourself this scatter-brained and defending your dissertation.”
“I’ll do better!” Zelda vowed. “I’ll calm down, I will!”
“An excellent ambition! I’m cutting off your Farmer’s Joy supply.”
Sass also strolled – not too close – to check on Porter’s handiwork. She made him adjust one loop of the hose, then gave him a thumb’s-up. She quite liked this pair. She couldn’t trust them out of her sight yet, but that was normal for space newbies. Testament to the bone-dry air, the hard-top was almost dry again.
“How much spillage?” she asked Porter. She pointed him toward the meter.
He checked and reported they’d spilled 20% of what went into the barrels. Sass considered this more-or-less par for their skill level. “Next time, don’t waste a life-giving resource, OK? If that were star drive fuel, this whole town would be a gaping crater.” Not accurate, but it made them think.
“Yes, sar!” they barked, intimidated.
“Well done. Get aboard.”
Sass walked Hugo back to his three-wheeler. They switched him back onto that air supply, and Sass tucked her spare air canister under her arm.
“About your civil disobedience. I owe you, Hugo. Call me if things get too hot for you in the city. You and your kids are welcome on Thrive.”
134
Sass dolefully doodled on her desktop, waiting for Copeland to come to the ansible. After she spoke to Teke on Cupid, he’d apparently told Cope. Who called back and left a message while Sass battled robots, rendezvoused with Thrive, argued with Clay, relocated Thrive, ate supper, and fought with Clay some more.
“Sass!” Cope greeted her, and took his seat facing the ansible, perched on Teke’s bed. “Whoa. Who died?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Just a rough day with Clay. And complications with Sanctuary. No biggie.”
“Not buying it, Sass,” he replied. “Want to talk? About Clay?”
She shook her head. “I keep thinking we can change, you know? We appreciate each other. We’re both from Earth. Got gobs in common, lots of history, live on a cozy spaceship.”
Cope smiled crookedly. “That sounds like all the things I fight with Ben about. Oh, hey, did I tell you? We just got remarried. The kids are still up here at MO, Abel and Jules, the whole gang. We toasted you many times.”
“Remarried?” Sass inquired.
Cope waved that away. “Ben and I broke off when I had that third kid by Teke instead of Ben. Kind of obvious in retrospect. He thought I was in love with Teke, which is ludicrous. I just wanted a third kid. Ben didn’t, because his life was in space. He claimed there’d be plenty of time later. But there’s never a convenient time for kids. You just want them all in a clump so you’re not tied down forever. ’Cuz they take 15 years. Over 20 with Sock, my youngest.”
“I had no idea,” Sass murmured. “All of that.”
“Yeah, well. All’s forgiven. I love him more than he drives me nuts. And he’s willing to step up with the kids. Sort of. So long as I stay in space with him again, anyway.” He shook his head, and they both laughed softly.
“You are a spaceship engineer,” Sass consoled him, trying not to laugh.
“Yeah, rub it in.”
“Speaking of, how did your first probe test go to Denali? Any better on the navigation?”
“Dead on. Flawless,” Cope replied gratefully. “In fact, we can’t calculate any error bars, which makes me nervous as hell. So, next probe is Sanctuary. You game?”
“Wait, what?” Sass sat bolt upright, stunned. “You’re ready to send a probe here? When?”
“We can do it any time. I mean, tomorrow at the earliest. But tomorrow would be great. The kids want to watch – all five. Abel and Jules’ kids are with us, too. I ought to take them home to school soon.”
“Tomorrow? Yes! Please! Can I meet the kids, too?”
He laughed out loud. “Yes! But not during the probe test, please. Later.”
They bent heads to their respective tablets to calculate the right time on Sanctuary to intercept a transmission while facing away from the local star. And they set a date.
“And all I do is record the transmission and report back to you?”
“That’s it.”
“Cope, impressed as hell. Really. You’ve come so far! In so many ways. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you this past decade. But only because I missed you so. You didn’t need us.”
“Thank you,” he mouthed. Cope never did take compliments easily.
“Talk to you tomorrow.”
The next day, Sass shut herself into the office a half hour before go time on the probe. She invited a few others to join her in a few minutes, but first she wanted to confirm they were on schedule.
And sadly, she needed to inform Sanctuary Control. Whether she personally wanted to convert that rego AI to a washing machine was irrelevant. Likewise Colonel Tharsis, but he also required the courtesy of advance notice.
“Sanctuary Control, Thrive Actual, Captain Sass Collier speaking.”
Rosie completed the handshaking, her face as pleasantly bland as ever. Sass only wished they could snarl at each other. But that was pointless.
“Shiva, I’m calling to give advance notice of a navigation test which will enter Sanctuary system space in forty-two minutes. This is only a probe. It will appear, broadcast some information, and that’s all.”
“I do not understand. How is this possible? Who sent this probe?”
“I’m not at liberty to explain further at this time. But the probe is harmless science.” Sass reflected that wasn’t true. This probe would change everything for Sanctuary. Your days are numbered, AI. “This is a courtesy call. Do not be alarmed. Thrive out.”
Sass cut the comm right as Rosie beg
an to reply, then called Tharsis and repeated her briefing.
In confusion, Tharsis asked, “Why would you send a probe only a month after your starship?”
Because my old friends ran faster than I did. “Colonel, this is just a heads-up. Don’t be concerned sort of thing. Sass out.”
When no one called back immediately, she imagined the mayor called Clay to appeal her unreasonableness. May you enjoy each other.
She chatted a little with Ben, but mostly listened over the ansible. Remi and Darren slipped into the office with her for the final ten minutes, while Clay hosted the rest of the crew in the galley. She’d set up a camera to echo the ansible picture and sound out to them. The silvery image quality was terrible, but they could hear alright.
The countdown came, and – nothing. Sass checked her receivers. They seemed fine.
Teke entered the ansible screen. “Sass, the probe is taking readings. Expect a message to begin…3, 2, 1, now.”
And it did. Sass furiously scribbled coordinates, bearing, and speed as backup to the signal Teke could hear for himself over the ansible.
Darren leaned over the desk and fixed a camera on the small probe, barely bigger than a basketball and about two diameters of the planet away. “My word, I think they got it. The probe is entering orbit!”
On the screen, Teke was tackled by an ecstatic Elise Pointreau, shrieking in triumph.
“Congratulations! That was the plan?” Sass inquired. “High Sanctuary orbit?”
She had to wait through a thorough kiss, plus Cope and Teke also hugging. Then they reported in to Ben that he was brilliant. Apparently Nico pressed the go button, and his baby brother Sock was unbearably jealous. She heard cheering out on the catwalk on Thrive as well, and probably Prosper. The distant celebration let it sink in. Instantaneously, that probe traveled the distance her crew lost eleven objective years to traverse.
Finally, Cope ducked into the ansible pickup to answer. “Yeah, if we got it right, the probe will orbit 10 times, then decay and burn up on atmospheric entry.”
Sass calculated it out. “I get an expected 42 minutes per orbit? And a fiery finale in 7 hours.”
Cope laughed. “Wrong team-mate. Ben?” On the warp gate generating shuttle – with ‘help’ from his sons – Ben corroborated her math.
“Damn,” said Sass, shaking her head. “So when do you put Prosper through it?”
“Tomorrow!” Ben’s voice came through weakly.
“Day after tomorrow!” was Teke’s vote.
Cope shook his head in disbelief at his scientific partner. “Open for debate. Guys, get real. It takes more than a day to refuel and provision for anywhere we’d want to go.” He turned back to Sass. “I assumed the next trip was to Denali. And we’ve got a Denali envoy here who’d be pissed as hell if it isn’t Denali. But now Abel’s agitating for Sanctuary.”
Sass’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No. He’s after that gift shop you were telling us about. Spare spaceships in the asteroid belt? Thing is, he wants another courier ship to serve as the warp gate to transfer cargo between Pono and Denali. And then jump through the warp itself to the destination. So Denali could stage an arbitrary number of containers into orbit. Then the courier warps in, warps the containers to Pono orbit, then warps itself to join them. Then the courier and PO-3’s collect the containers and distribute them before orbital decay.”
Sass boggled. “Why is that better than the courier ship carrying it surface to surface?”
“Fuel dominates the cost, generating the warp pattern. That and lifting and landing anything in Denali’s gravity well. But once the gate is open, you can throw unlimited mass through it.”
“For 23 minutes maybe,” Teke quibbled from offscreen.
Cope shot him a look. “Yeah, well, at the moment, we got a limited armada. Not to mention stuff worth sending across space.”
“Farmer’s Joy,” Teke quibbled. “Tourists.”
“Bakkra,” Cope added. “Microbes are a sticking point, from Denali. Every shipment needs to be rendered dead. Except Farmer’s Joy drugs include live bacteria. How to kill one and not the other is a challenge. Any noxious substances on Sanctuary?”
“Yes, in fact,” Darren supplied. “We have a nanite-murdering compound.”
Cope recoiled. “That’s fun.”
“Not a problem to Denali,” Teke argued from his right. Denali didn’t use nanites. “You could start a triangle trade route.”
Cope offered him a friendly backhand punch for that suggestion. “You’re talking to the geeks, Sass. We don’t make the business decisions. Fortunately. I suck at it, and Teke is worse.” He ignored Ben’s protestations that Prosper operated at a profit.
Sass clarified, “The nanite-murdering compound is isolated in a lake. Should be safe for cargo transport. I’m still floored. This is an actual possibility? You’re considering coming to Sanctuary?”
“I’m not,” Cope admitted, and received a revenge backhand from Teke, and a Boo! from Ben on the shuttle. “It would be great to see you, though. What?” he snarled at Teke. “She understands. I’ve got three kids. Abel has two. Sass, tell him you understand!”
“I understand,” she intoned piously, followed by a grin.
In the end, the probe orbited Sanctuary 8 times, not 10. Cope got his error bars. Sass reported each pass, and barely left her office. She enjoyed the hours to the hilt, visiting with every person on Prosper for the test and re-wedding. She even talked to each of the five kids, Cope’s three and Abel’s two. She caught up with Jules, another major surprise like Teke. Both teenagers when she lived with them, they’d grown impressive.
In the wee hours of the morning, the probe streaked briefly into the thin atmosphere near the horizon, and Sass was sorry to say goodbye.
Wish you were here.
Though by now she loved her new crew, too.
135
“Thanks for the lift, Remi!” A few days later, Sass and Clay and their picnic basket crowded into the shuttle’s compact airlock to cycle out.
Sass declared time for a holiday. Things were going well for a change. Hugo reported that he’d tested the lake water on removing Shiva’s control on people inside the colony, and the results were ‘good enough.’ With that settled, finding another way to remove the nanites was moot. Darren was freed from his unhappy lack of nanite progress to help Remi finish repairing the ship at last.
The captain and first mate could afford to take a break.
For today, Clay chose to borrow three-wheelers from the Loonies to show Sass a good time out on the range. She conceded their relationship probably needed a dose of Clay’s idea of a good time – danger sports. She hoped she didn’t die more than once today.
Poor Remi, Sass thought unrepentant. The third officer was a bit daunted at being left in command. But after this long on the ship, the captain considered it overdue. She had every confidence her creative flock would find trouble to get into. And Remi would get them back out of it.
They cycled into the Loonie garage, as Remi took off. To Sass’s surprise, Ling met them just inside the lock, looking sharp and spry.
“Ha!” the Loonie mayor said, grinning at Sass. “Clay didn’t tell you!”
Sass looked to her partner in question, annoyed.
“Your story, Petunia,” Clay invited, smiling. “You tell it.”
The elderly woman folded her arms. “Hugo Silva’s band of brats caught me with their water pistols a few days ago. Shiva’s damned nanites in my brain died within hours, and I could think straight for the first time in years. Did you realize that, captain? That the AI hadn’t released us after all?”
“No! Well, maybe. You still didn’t seem to be thinking clearly. I feared y’all were out of practice.”
Major-and-mayor Petunia Ling nodded. “Certainly that. I confiscated one of the water pistols and dosed Lumpkin and Tharsis. Then I found my old waterworks engineer and spritzed him, plus our football team for
muscle. Once their brains were back online, we contaminated the colony’s water supply with that chemical for a day to free everyone, newborn on up.”
Sass’s jaw dropped. “Just for the Loonies?”
“Hell, no. All three boroughs. Lumpkin and Tharsis would have dithered forever.”
“You did it! Congratulations! The colony must be a madhouse.”
“It is indeed,” Ling said with relish. “I don’t envy Tharsis. Lumpkin and I stuck him with setting up new communications. He’s arguing with Shiva to produce and deliver external devices like yours. And – ha! – Lumpkin has to figure out child care. She’s motivated. All three of hers moved into her one-room apartment, and they’re driving her nuts. As they should.”
“As they should,” Sass agreed, grinning. “And you?”
“Facilities,” Ling replied. “Restoring them to our control instead of Shiva’s. Putting everyone back to work. It’s good for them! I ran facilities most of my career.”
“I’m so happy for you!” Sass encouraged. “And Clay’s a rat for not telling me.”
Ling laughed. “I’ll let you enjoy your picnic. Two wheelers, extra air canisters, as promised. Have a great time! And soon, we need to talk about the future of this colony. Won’t be this week.”
“I understand completely,” Sass assured her.
The harried mayor left them with a wave. They changed from their pressure suits into the lighter navy blue uniforms the Loonies wore, compatible with the face mask air supply system of the wheelers. Then they let themselves out onto the bright yellow landscape to play.
Once outside, Sass double-checked. “You didn’t tell her where we were going, right?”
“Of course not.” Clay fished out his tablet and did a comms check, to make sure Remi could hear them if they called for help. Not that they expected to. His plan had them pitching a tent overnight and roughing it. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Clay liked sleeping on hard ground far better than she did.