Spaceship Thrive (Thrive Space Colony Adventures Book 2)

by Ginger Booth

  He nodded slowly. “I’d like to see Nico before we break orbit. You think that’s possible?”

  Sass pulled out her comm and made a note of it. “We have 8 days here. We figure out what needs to happen before then, and we do it. Nico is a priority. We OK?”

  He sighed deeply. “We’re good. Speaking of dumping stuff on you, I have no idea if we’re ready to go.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s ask Pollan’s advice tomorrow. Rest up today and don’t worry about it.”

  She rose from the bench. Clay stood above them on the catwalk, arms on the railing, staring down at her. She flipped him the bird, but took the hint and headed for the med bay.

  Sass leaned back in the auto-doc in relief. She’d never admit it, but Clay was right, this needed to be checked. Judging by her deep breaths and the tension releasing from her shoulders, she’d worried.

  She’d refused to look at it, but in the back of her mind, the concern niggled away at her. Maybe this time she’d gone too far. The radiation overdose might have been the end of her magical life, age 25 forever.

  Nope. She had as many nanites as she ever did. The display assured her she was in exuberant health. Muscle tone, weight, metabolism, organ function, blood counts, oxygen – perfect. She drank hard last night. Not a trace remained.

  Clay let himself in. She pointed to the screen, then unclamped the sensor from her finger. She squeezed it to chomp like an alligator coming to bite him. He presented his finger and leaned against the bed. Another perfect score.

  “It isn’t a given, Sass.” Clay unlatched himself and slipped the sensor back into its bedside receptacle. “Tom stayed with me his last couple months. Set up an auto-doc for him in my living room. Looked out over the botanical gardens until he died.”

  “We still have the original fabricator nanites,” Sass replied. “Hiding inside somewhere. Too tiny to find. That’s my theory.”

  “Agreed.” The thought seemed to depress him.

  “Nice of you to take care of Tom at the end. How did Sandman die?”

  “Surrounded by family. I visited once. Went to the funeral, of course. We never got on that well.”

  “No. Guy was a lech. The four of us never would have been friends back on Earth.”

  “Perhaps not. But we’ve seen a lot together since then. By now we have more in common than with anyone else in the system.”

  Sass pursed her lips judiciously. “About me impersonating an investigator. You know I’m better at people than data. What do you need help with?”

  “Found a bunch of diaries from the Ganymede crew. Video, audio, even handwritten text. I can transcribe it all, search for keywords. Usual strategy is to watch and listen first. Evolve that keyword list.”

  “Goldmine disguised as a haystack, huh? Any struggling engineers?”

  Clay blinked. “One struck me. Son of the chief engineer, maybe seventeen when he left Ganymede. Hugely pissed off that his parents dragged him off on their quest to save humanity. He spoke as though to his friends back home, explained things. Why do you ask?”

  “Copeland might enjoy it, is all. A friend for moral support. He likes to listen to books while he works.”

  “Good idea. You’ve been a help already.”

  Sass reflected that encouraging her was never his strong suit. It still came off as patronizing. “I teach EVA this afternoon. I have a crew with morale issues. A ship getting ready to cross the rings. Business to negotiate.” She paused to frown. “You put together a TO yet for the Ganymede crew? Table of organization. Who works in what department, supervisors, friends and relations?”

  Clay nodded a half-smile. “Good idea.”

  “I’ll try to find an hour a day. Somehow.”

  “I’ll offer that diary to Copeland. Thanks, Sass. For this.” He waved at the auto-doc display.

  “You were right. Maybe someday a stray gamma ray will zap my last fabricator nanite. And I’ll turn back into Cinderella. But not today.”

  14

  Some even postulate that CO2 poisoning was one of the feedback loops that led to the downfall of Earth. They knew they were destroying the planet, but judgment was too impaired to change course. Others dismiss this theory as simplistic.

  Abel cleared the hatch, first into the stars. Or into the gap between the Thrive and the station, at least – more like a back alley than the vastness of space. Kassidy stepped forward to follow him. She fully expected to excel, as with every other gymnastic challenge.

  As her foot passed the threshold, she tried to pivot to place her magnetic boots on the hull, at the same moment that gravity vanished. She arrested the motion and clung to the door-side grab bar with both gauntleted fists. Her ears insisted the spin continued on. Saliva began to pool in her mouth.

  “Kassidy?” Sass prompted. “Clear the door.”

  “I think I’m gonna throw up,” Kassidy returned.

  “Don’t do that. Why did you flip your boots onto the hull?”

  “Orientation maybe? Now everything is spinning.”

  “Close your eyes. Breathe out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Breathe in lightly, breathe out long and slow. Calming down?”

  “Yeah, I’m not panicking, Sass.” The stunt woman objected to the very idea that she could panic.

  “Cool. Next step. Tell yourself your feet are ‘down.’ Got that pictured? Still keep your eyes closed.”

  “Yeah, got it. Oh, that helped. The spinning sensation stopped.”

  “Good. But now we need to translate ‘down’ to an external reference. I use the bottom of the Thrive. The base of the skyship, the station, and the solar sails all form a nice plane. Can you picture that as down?”

  “Not Mahina?”

  “God no. Relative to me, Mahina is above to the left. Pono’s behind the skyship, maybe slightly down from my reference plane. You have that fixed in your head?”

  “I see it,” Kassidy agreed reluctantly. Her feet lay at a weird angle to that mental construct. “Do I open my eyes yet?”

  “Yes. Open your eyes and re-orient. Slowly. Do not set your inner ears revolving again. Every motion out here is in ultra-slow motion compared to what you’re used to. That spinning sensation is much worse when you really are spinning and can’t stop.”

  “Yeah.” Kassidy tried and failed to swallow the excess saliva. She finally gave up and spit downward as much as possible. “I thought this would be fun.”

  “Some people take to it easier than others. You’re doing fine.”

  Kassidy carefully pivoted out of Sass’s way to let her out of the hatch, one hand on the grab bar, the other to the hull to arrest any excess torque. She was lying in space at an angle to ‘down’ at this point. But Sass was right. Just defining that imaginary plane of ‘down’ helped her brain make better sense of her surroundings.

  She didn’t dare look out at the stars and moon yet, grateful for the walls of ship and station. Yeah, she could get used to this. “What are you doing?” she asked in sudden alarm.

  “Closing the hatch. Safety,” Sass replied. “If the airlock is open, no one else can come out if we need help. Not that we will. Abel, how are you coming with the guylines?”

  “Having fun,” Abel reported. “The one from you to MO is secure. Thought I’d walk to the corner of the station and try to bring another one back to the stern of the Thrive. Better starscape out of the alley.”

  “Other way,” Sass corrected him. “Zig back to the Thrive with your second line. Walk to the stern. Then zag the third line out to the station.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “I’m watching Kassidy, not you. So follow a guyline for the rest of your flying, alright?”

  “Will do.”

  “And don’t forget the cameras.” Kassidy was most disappointed when Sass advised her to leave her camera drones indoors. They didn’t have the programming to cope with a spacewalk, and Sass was afraid their lubricants would boil off without atmosphere. The vid star would have to do without closeups.

  She observed
as Abel secured the second guyline, hooked his personal tether to the first one, and zipped across in slow motion to fall against the airlock door at a crouch. He stood on the wall to her concept of ‘down’ and slowly walked away upside-down to her.

  “Your turn,” Sass prompted. “We’re just going to follow Abel’s lines for now. Clamp your D-ring onto the line. And launch yourself toward the station.”

  Kassidy underestimated how much push her legs could supply, and nearly sprained a wrist stopping herself at the other side. She cleared out of Sass’s way as best she could, then turned to watch the other woman zip across. Enviously, she noted that Sass flipped at the halfway point, to take the impact with the other ship on her boots, magnetically secure.

  “I thought you just told me not to do that,” the starlet complained.

  “I’m not a beginner,” Sass explained. “Watch Abel for an example to emulate, not me. That’s why I sent him out first. Check out the view yet?”

  In fact, she hadn’t. The last thing Kassidy thought she needed was more vertigo-inducing panoramas. “Won’t that start the nausea again?”

  “While you’re moving, only look where you’re going,” Sass advised beside her. “While you’re sitting still, you can look anywhere. You’re oriented. Point down.”

  Kassidy pointed ‘down,’ feeling like a fool. Dammit, she never had trouble with orientation! Cautiously, in ultra-slow motion, still clutching the grav bar and the guyline for good measure, she turned to look back at the Thrive.

  Except the Thrive looked no bigger than her apartment block back in Mahina Actual. They were far enough away – perhaps a bit more than the other side of the street back home – for the enormous banded yellow face of Pono to dwarf the small craft. Pono’s yellow-green atmosphere showed clearly, and its rings swooping toward them.

  “OK,” Kassidy conceded. “That view is epic.” Belatedly, she recalled the camera dot affixed to her helmet, in the third eye spot over her forehead. Maybe that’s what she was doing wrong. She was experiencing it herself instead of standing in for her fans. She frowned.

  “Sass, I planned to wait and broadcast when I was an expert out here. Will I have time to become an expert?”

  “Before we turn back to Mahina? Maybe. Maybe not gymnastics. But Abel’s only been out a couple hours.”

  Abel was currently reeling himself back in to the stern of the Thrive, having missed the orbital on his jump across with the third guyline somehow, a bit like missing a shot at the side of a barn from 20 paces. Maybe he bounced off by mistake. Kassidy was studiously watching Sass at the time.

  In sudden decision, she turned star mode on. Alice and Josh, Beauregard and Eliza, they could identify with that feeling of being completely out of their depth. That was exactly the bridge of shared experience her audience could latch onto.

  “Hey fans! Usually I share my acrobatics with you when I’m so smooth it feels effortless. This time, I want to share my overwhelm. I’ve never done this before. The universe out here is immense, and uncaring. The consequences if my line is cut could be fatal, merciless. I’m scared. Zero gravity is making me nauseous. All my life I’ve moved like a cat. Now I’m fumbling like a toddler. Nearly broke my wrist coming across this little gap from the Thrive. Like a babe in space.

  “But the view! Just look at Pono! Its rings like the wings of an angel stretching forth to embrace us. The solar sails bigger than any machine I’ve ever seen. And the cold, cold stars. I’m in awe. Guys and gals, I can’t impress you. But I bet that view does.

  “OK, Sass. I’m oriented. We follow guyline two next?”

  “After you. Glad you got your feet under you again. So to speak.”

  Kassidy chuckled. She transfered her safety clamp and pushed off lightly, floating across. Alas, she made the mistake of stargazing along the way instead of keeping her eyes peeled on her destination.

  She managed not to vomit. But her cold excess spit dribbled down her neck.

  “More poetry?” Sass suggested. She arrived, and immediately jack-knifed herself around the corner, hanging behind the Thrive instead of between the two vessels.

  After glancing to the captain in surprise, Kassidy needed to swallow again and practice deep breathing There was nothing beyond the other woman except the pinpoint beacons of infinity.

  Surely Alice would be at least as intimidated. “Wow, fans. I am so not a natural.” She laughed, sounding a little panicked to her own ears. “OK, the view into the stars overwhelms me. Let’s look back to Abel.”

  He was there, pushed off MO on his tether. Spread-eagled at an angle to her, facing away, he spun slowly.

  Sass inquired, “You alright out there, Abel?”

  “I’m in heaven,” he replied. “This is amazing.”

  Kassidy huffed a nervous laugh. “Got any more cameras?”

  “Oh, hell, I forgot to plant the last one. Sorry.”

  “Stick it on your helmet, like mine,” she invited. “And just do whatever you’re doing.”

  His spread-eagled lazy spin sped up as his arms retracted, and took on a yaw and roll that made Kassidy gulp in discomfort again. But Abel didn’t seem worried in the least.

  Sass commented, “You’re a natural, Abel.”

  “Fantastic break from haggling and crew issues,” he replied. “I love it out here. Kassidy, I’m happy to come out with you all you want. Maybe make Jules jealous of me for a change.” The mournful note of that last harmonized with the pitiless stars and yawning black.

  Kassidy’s gaze moved – slowly, she was learning – to take in the edge of Mahina, peeking around the dark bulk of the orbital. “Ready,” she said simply, and launched.

  She forgot to shift her D-ring to the next guyline first. She launched not-quite perpendicular to the previous guyline and didn’t recognize her mistake until her tether jerked her sideways. At which point she sort of went into orbit around that axle.

  “Ask if you want advice,” Sass murmured. “Better to figure it out yourself. You’re safe, though.”

  Safe, that is, except for thwacking onto the hull of Mahina Orbital while she was facing the wrong direction. And yes, she bounced, adding a whole new vector to the one she was flailing to control before. Gradually Kassidy realized what she needed most was to get back to her D-ring. Objective identified, within another couple minutes she was steady in space on a guyline halfway between ships.

  Well, not completely steady. She was still rotating around the line. She thought it through and extended one leg and one arm, to slow the spin. Then she pulled arm over arm to head back to Sass.

  “There was no way to tell me how to fix that mistake, was there?” she commented to Sass on arrival.

  “Trial and error,” Sass responded. “Eventually it’s reflex. I don’t know what I’m doing. My body does.” She unclamped Kassidy’s D-ring and placed it on the correct guyline. “Your fans want to look at home. That way. Abel? Coming through.”

  Kassidy arrived safe and sound at the far corner of Mahina Orbital. With ultra care, she clambered around the corner, still hugging her face mere centimeters from the hull. But as she stole a peek toward Mahina taking up more of the sky, she knew Sass was right. She got her magnetic boots under her, and carefully stood straight out on the wall. The added vantage opened a new swath of moon. An occasional bright twinkle spoke the death of a wayward asteroid to Mahina’s atmosphere, or to the invisible beams of the station defense guns.

  “Wow, fans. Let’s walk to the top of the station –”

  “Bottom’s closer,” Sass and Abel suggested in unison.

  Kassidy laughed out loud. “Wherever. I want to see home in all its glory.”

  Despite its alarming size, filling her field of view once the station was out of the way, the moon looked so precious and fragile before her, awe-inspiring. The brief decades that humans had labored to terraform Mahina took proper proportion from the unyielding stars and rings of rubble.

  For the first time, Kassidy shared with her fans what sh
e knew of her own family history, how her ancestors came here over a century ago. It didn’t matter that her people came in the urb wave, and Alice and Josh’s with the settlers.

  They were all damn brave.

  When the trio were safe back inside the Thrive, and the women out of their pressure suits, Kassidy threw her arms around Sass for a true hug, not a staged one.

  “Thank you. Not just the EVA. For building a new world for us. That must have been cruelly hard.”

  Sass’s expression was hard to decipher. “You’re welcome,” was all she said.

  15

  We don’t know much about the early history of Mahina. Which is interesting in itself. Some records remain. But interpreting them is a challenge.

  “Welcome aboard, come in!” Sass greeted her new borrowed crew as they reported for duty in the hold. She’d only meant to float this concept by Alohan. But the commander seized on the idea until she practically insisted.

  The quartet gazed around in surprise, clutching their weapons and pressure suits and duffel bags. One man stared at the trees, another the slide. The remaining two watched Kassidy and Abel spinning like fools around their play guylines. They’d agreed to limit their EVA to an hour or so per day, and practiced their zero g moves in here.

  Sass glanced over her shoulder at her cargo hold with fresh eyes. Perhaps she should do something about their first impression. Nah.

  “Abel? New crew is here. Our first mate, Abel Greer. I’m Captain Sassafras Collier. Call me Sass. This is our home. We don’t stand on ceremony.”

  “Sergeant Wilder,” the apparent leader of the contingent replied, posture suddenly snapping to attention. He bore an unusually rich dark complexion and black haired flat-top. “My team, Cortez,” that was the woman, petite and buffed with a jaunty short ponytail, “and Griffith.” The second trooper was clearly a fan of weight-lifting, a bulky guy with no neck.