by Matt Levin
In the back of his mind, he accepted that meant leaving Rebecca. But throwing himself into itinerary planning and recruiting drives meant he could avoid thinking about that harsh reality as long as possible.
His hand lingered over an old, raggedy shirt that had been a hand-me-down from him to Rebecca. How had it ended up back in his drawer? He thought about packing it, but left it lying there instead.
Tanner was slated to depart from a nearby spaceport two hours from now. He no longer had the luxury of pretending his time with Rebecca wasn’t coming to an abrupt close. They had been together almost every day since she’d been born, and Tanner had never so much as left Obrigan City. The thought of leaving the planet and his sister behind caused him no small measure of anxiety.
But there were things bigger than the comforts of home. As much as he wanted to stay by Rebecca’s side and watch her grow up, she had no future in a crumbling system threatened by a deluge of barbaric invaders. Real compassion for Rebecca meant doing everything in his power to stop the newars from spreading like the cancer they were.
Where even is she? Tanner thought. Normally, Rebecca would be back from school by now. In part, Tanner was grateful. If Rebecca had been here, he didn’t know if he’d have the strength to pack his things. And she’d have had a million questions.
Before long, he couldn’t fit anything else in the pack. That would have to do. Drawing the drawstring tight on top, he slung the pack over one of his shoulders and headed for the door. He donned a jacket hanging by the door and slipped the backpack over his other shoulder.
And then he paced around the entrance for another few minutes.
According to his wrist terminal, he was nearing the edge of comfort to make his flight on time. If Rebecca had been caught up at school, maybe it would be better to just leave a note.
Or maybe not. After all, what could Tanner possibly say? Rebecca wouldn’t understand. Maybe she’d get it someday, but a single written note couldn’t do justice to Tanner’s sense of duty.
No note, he finally decided, and stepped out into the brisk winter cold. Tanner checked the time on his wrist terminal once more, sighed, and locked the door to their studio. Rebecca’s studio, he told himself.
Once he had finally accepted that he wasn’t going to get the chance to say goodbye, he ran into his sister at the end of the hallway.
“Tanner!” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Sorry I’m a bit late,” she added hastily.
A rush of thoughts raced through Tanner’s brain. Part of him wanted to ask her where the hell she had been, part of him wanted to explain why he was leaving, and a third part just wanted to embrace her and cry.
“Are you...going somewhere?” Rebecca asked, cocking her head and looking at the backpack.
“There’s...not enough time to explain,” Tanner blurted out before his mind had figured out what to tell her.
“I...okay?” she said. “How long will you be gone, then?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t understand!” she said, her voice moving from confusion and sorrow to anger. “You’ve been acting so weird for months now, and I haven’t said anything. And now, you’re just packing up and leaving without even telling me where you’re going! What’s gotten into you?” She was practically shouting at him by the end.
“I can’t talk about it,” Tanner said, gritting his teeth. “But I’m doing this—all of this—for you. To make sure you’re safe.”
“I don’t want you to do whatever it is you’re doing!” Rebecca continued. “I want my brother back! I want us to go back to just living together. No more secrets and lying. How many times have you disappeared in the middle of the night recently? I know you think I don’t notice because I’ve already gone to bed, but I do. And what have you been doing the past few weeks? You’re always busy at your wrist terminal but you never talk about what you’re working on!”
Tanner worried that Rebecca’s shouting would attract unwanted attention from the neighbors. He didn’t think anyone would actually report him to the authorities, but his general sense of paranoia had been spiking recently.
“No more secrets?” he hissed. “No more lying? What do you have to say for yourself after showing up two hours late, then?”
Rebecca opened her mouth to respond, but her face fell instead. She stared at her feet for a few seconds. “I was with one of my classmates. Going on a date,” she muttered. “Honestly, it feels nice to be around someone who actually cares.”
It took Tanner’s brain—already cycling between the logistical problems of coordinating the Offspring retreat and his muddled emotions about leaving his sister behind—several seconds to process what she had told him.
It was the first time Rebecca had ever disobeyed him.
He had expressly told her several weeks ago that dating was a waste of time, that it could negatively impact the future he had painstakingly built for her. He felt a sudden spasm in his arms and a tightening in his chest. His right hand clenched into a fist before he knew what he was doing.
It was like his body was on autopilot, stepping forward until he was an arm’s length away from her. His right arm became a blur, cutting through the cold air until his knuckles slammed into Rebecca’s cheek. The words “You ungrateful bitch!” escaped his mouth in the form of a snarl.
She staggered back, pressed her hand to her quickly reddening cheek, and locked eyes with him. For a handful of fleeting seconds, the two just stared at each other, the reality of what had happened still settling.
And then Rebecca wailed. It was somewhere between weeping and shrieking. She spun away from him, her hair flapping in the wind, and sprinted for the studio door. She rushed inside and slammed the door closed without looking back.
All Tanner could do was stand there and watch. He hadn’t meant to hit her, not really. Everything that he had done—everything that he would continue to do, in his newfound role at the apex of the Offspring organization—was to protect Rebecca. To make sure she could grow up safe and happy. It horrified him that his gut reaction was to physically discipline her.
But there was some part of him that enjoyed it. That was part of the message Owen had instilled in him: sometimes, violence was useful to maintain order. Enact discipline. Keep control.
A shudder flickered through his body. Maybe if this was the person he was becoming, he had done Rebecca a favor by removing himself from her life. In that moment, when he let his anger take control of him, he had failed her. And he feared that the look of shock and betrayal on her face would haunt him forever.
He turned and headed for the spaceport.
. . .
In nearly every way, Tanner had accomplished a massive success. By his count, hundreds of Offspring had already left Obrigan and boarded a variety of transports headed for the outer rim. Hopefully, he’d have over a thousand by the start of the Union crackdown that was surely coming.
Maybe someday he’d be able to relish in his triumph. For now, the look Rebecca had given him was still raw. He resolved to do for her in absentia what he had failed to do in person.
Rather than looking out the window of the spaceliner at the fading marble-shaped Obrigan, he instead turned his attention to the other passengers. None of them knew who he was, nor had probably given much thought to the Offspring or their titanic crusade.
It was better that way.
Tanner felt an intrinsic duty to protect all these people around him, so innocent and childlike, oblivious to the threat posed by the newars. They needed someone like him and the Offspring to watch out for them. To do the things they were unwilling to do, think the things they were unwilling to think, all to make sure they had a future worth living for.
Just like Rebecca. He’d protect everyone, even if they weren’t aware of what he was sacrificing to keep them safe. Even if they hated him. The look in Rebecca’s eyes flashed through his mind once more.
He had to distract himself, so he thought about the future. He wasn’t su
re what to do once he had gotten as many Offspring beyond the arm of the Union state as possible. All he knew was that the core worlds were not safe for them any longer.
The mistake Owen had made, Tanner reflected, was that he had believed working through the political system could yield his desired outcomes. Owen had thought he could manipulate the prime minister into carrying out the Offspring’s agenda for them. Tanner was increasingly glad he hadn’t sent anyone to search the general’s residence. They would do things Tanner’s way from now on.
They would strike from the shadows. They would hit the newars wherever they could, whenever they could, working alongside whoever they could. But the Union was a lost cause. The Offspring would operate beyond the bounds of the system’s law. Someday, history would justify that choice.
He turned around and walked to the other side of the spaceliner, facing out toward the outer rim and away from the receding Obrigan. Somewhere out there, invisible but dangerous, were 40 million invaders threatening to tear apart everything he had ever known. He would do whatever it took to stop them.
The war to defend the homeland was about to begin.
CHAPTER 43
* * *
It was as though New Arcena had blossomed back to life. The Union fleet had just departed, and under Riley’s demobilization orders, workers were putting away their guns and picking back up their shovels. Isadora had made sure Morris was back in charge.
She passed two dock workers on the way to the colony’s hangar bay. The familiar silhouette of the Exemplar was just inside. A handful of maintenance workers were looking over the vessel. Two men she didn’t recognize—she figured they were Boyd Makrum and Derek Hozan, based on Nadia’s impassioned message—were directing the crews to the various nicks and dents on the Exemplar’s hull.
And at the center, in her teal-and-charcoal enviro-suit, and her black curls parted off to the side, was Nadia herself. She looked up, saw Isadora, and the two women grinned in unison. Nadia broke into a light jog, heading straight for Isadora.
When she reached her, Nadia wrapped her arms around Isadora in a tight embrace. Isadora felt Nadia’s fingers dig gently into her back. “Thank you,” Nadia whispered, her voice wavering in gratitude. “Thank you.”
Isadora took a deep breath as they stayed locked in their embrace. She gave Nadia a light pat on her back. “You did good,” Isadora told her.
Finally, they broke apart. “I heard about Russ,” Nadia said, her tone sobering.
“He’ll have to find his own way,” Isadora said. She wished Russ had stayed, but he had disappeared right after she had stripped him of his position. No one knew where he had gone, not even Riley. Isadora just hoped he would find his way back into the fold someday. She already missed him.
The two of them stood in solemn silence for another few moments. “Isn’t this planet amazing?” Nadia asked, perking up.
“It’s hard to imagine what it must have looked like when your crew first arrived,” Isadora said.
“This is all a sign of things to come,” Nadia said. “We’ll find new settlement sites, work hard, and make lives worth living. And we’ll make sure we do it with our hands stretched out to the people of this system.”
“That’s beautiful,” Isadora said, an edge of sadness in her voice. She knew it wouldn’t always work out that well, but their success on New Arcena showed that a better future was possible. She’d hold on to that hope for as long as she could.
“I can’t stay,” Nadia said. “I’ve already been in contact with a group called the Solar Park Foundation. They own a lot of territory on the planet Bitanu, territory we could use to build more colonies. They’re technically owned by the Union, but they’re autonomous, so they could lease out land to us and it would still be legal despite the charter referenda.”
“I can tell you’ve got a plan,” Isadora said. Nadia had always seemed like she was bursting with energy. As much as Isadora wanted to slow down and enjoy colonial life, she figured Nadia might get stir crazy if she stayed too long. Isadora would miss her, but she knew Nadia belonged on the road. “Make sure to keep me updated,” Isadora added.
“I’ve already got a meeting set up,” Nadia said. “Once the Exemplar’s ready to go, I figure my crew and I are gonna get airborne.”
Isadora nodded. “Well, don’t let me keep you. Of course, I’ll want survey data for any colony sites you find. And good luck.”
By the end of the day, the Exemplar was just a speck fading from view, rising higher and higher toward the Calimor cloudline. Isadora stood at the edge of the hangar bay and watched the light of the Exemplar’s engines slowly grow dimmer and dimmer.
Later, Isadora received confirmation that the Union had released both Gabby Betam and Alexander Mettevin. Katrina and Riley left the next morning. The four of them would continue the work of overseeing the day-to-day affairs of their people’s settlement efforts.
Not Isadora. Not yet. She owed it to the people of New Arcena to spend time among them. Seeing how they lived, seeing how much would have been wiped away if they hadn’t averted war with the Union at the last moment. She began doing her work—overseeing the projections and the diplomatic plans and the legal strategies formed by her executive cabinet—remotely, all while sitting back and watching the colony develop.
Isadora watched the workers harvest spices from the giant hydroponics bays, mesmerized by the way the red-brown of the dirt contrasted with the brilliant green of the spice plants. Other times, she’d drop in on a small office of agricultural scientists and economists, looking at their projections on colony productivity and their pricing plans based on Natonus-wide market data.
She even put in more than a few hours alongside the maintenance crew: patching holes, testing energy barrier systems, ensuring the hydroponics bay facilities were secure, and running breach drills.
But the colonists’ lives went beyond their work duties. Everywhere Isadora went, people were smiling. Laughing. They looked at her and thanked her for everything she had done. Slowly, the trauma of the impending war with the Union dissipated.
The hours stretched into days, the days stretched into weeks, and the weeks stretched into almost a month. Ships came and went. Every day, it felt like there were more vessels arriving from the core worlds. Media coverage of the near-conflict with the Union had produced a massive spike in public sympathy for the refugees.
First came the journalists, eager to bring the story of Isadora’s people and the trials and tribulations of their first half-year in the Natonus System to the wider public. Their stories only encouraged many more to follow them.
Second came the aid workers. Charity organizations from Union space began sending over volunteers to help with colony construction or medical aid as New Arcena continued to grow. They brought their own tents and nutra stores, so they didn’t sap New Arcena’s scarce resources. And they also brought collected donations from thousands back in the core worlds.
Third came the Ashkagi missions from Enther. Idealistic, young Ashkagi devotees flocked to help wherever they could. Before long, Isadora couldn’t tell all the faces apart. The colony was home to so many from all corners of the system. And under New Arcena’s roofs, labels seemed to disappear. They were all just humans.
Ships came from Ikkren bearing food, from the core worlds bearing construction materials, and from Bitanu bearing melted ice to help supplement their water reservoirs. Ships left the colony bearing spices. It felt like she was inside the beating heart of the Natonus System, where all arteries of trade and human contact intersected.
Eventually, Isadora realized that it was time for her to leave. She was still in charge of making a home for her people, and the ones she had brought out of cryo only represented a small sliver of the 40 million total she was responsible for.
Her place was back on Obrigan, coordinating the efforts. Katrina had been correct: Isadora was in charge, and she would do well to remember that. The extended stay on Calimor had been necessary, but
her soul felt cleansed for a return to her people’s embassy.
But first, she had one more stop to make. She owed it to the New Arcena colonists—and to herself.
. . .
Vincent Gureh’s room aboard the Preserver was just as messy as Isadora had remembered it. It was oddly comforting: despite how much everything around her was changing, the cryo vessel looked almost exactly the same. Or at least, Vincent’s cabin did.
“As I was saying,” Vincent said, pulling up a series of holographic projections on his wrister while Isadora fixated on a crumpled nutra wrapper on the ground. Didn’t he know they had a fully functioning supply line of food now?
“I’ve been over the projections through and through with Alexander,” Vincent continued. “After the productivity gains we’ve seen in the last month, we have at last reached the point where we can afford to bring families out of cryo. Or at least, immediate family. Extended family members probably need to stay in cryo for now.”
“Sorry?” Isadora asked, distracted. Something as simple as an old wrapper on the floor seemed easier to focus on than what Vincent was telling her.
The engineer tapped a few buttons on his wrister, showing two lines that represented output over time. Both trended upward, although one rose faster than the other. “If we continue pulling people out of cryo based purely on need, productivity would rise faster,” Vincent said, indicating the fast-rising line. “But Alexander noted that any expanded labor force would still increase productivity.” This time, he nodded toward the slow-rising line.
It was one of Isadora’s first decisions: prioritizing expertise, even if that meant separating families. But they were producing enough now that they could provide for the siblings, spouses, or children of everyone they had brought out so far.
Plus, her thinking had changed. Sure, her job was to bring her people out of cryo and set up a system that could sustain them. But she couldn’t neglect the emotional needs of the people she had already brought out. She couldn’t let herself become so focused on her people making a living in the Natonus System that she forgot about them making lives.