Ice Moon 4 Return to Enceladus

by Brandon Q Morris

  Half an hour later they were crammed into the cable car, gliding downward above the treetops. About half of the people aboard also came from an exhausting hike, so the ventilation system stood no chance against the collective odor of perspiration. But the trip was short, and it was better than walking down the mountain for another hour and a half. Jiaying had linked arms with him, and Martin grabbed one of the support rails on the ceiling. He cautiously studied the people around him. Most of them were together as family groups, and the children in particular stared curiously at his companion. Tourists from the Far East were not uncommon here, but they usually traveled in groups. Would you believe it? He of all people had a beautiful woman from faraway China by his side. He felt his cheeks flushing.

  The drive by car took about 90 minutes. The electric rental car hummed along in automatic mode as they traveled the state road. Martin’s mother lived in a small village, far away from the city, where she had bought a little house. He wondered when his last visit had been—it must be almost three years now. After his return from Enceladus, his mother had visited him for a few weeks in the U.S., but he had never found the time to visit her in turn. Since her miscarriage, Jiaying had been traveling under orders of the Chinese government, and he had resumed his job as a systems analyst for NASA.

  The media siege of the first few weeks after the return landing had now segued into a pleasantly quiet normality. These days, journalists rarely asked to interview him, and even student reporters seemed to have lost interest. Martin was glad about it, although at first he wondered whether he would miss that thrilling time. He didn’t. In the light of his past adventures, he was surprised he still found it exciting to scan program code for errors others had made.

  Jiaying placed a hand on his thigh.

  “What a beautiful landscape,” she said in German. “It reminds me of a place in the mountains back home that I visited as a child.”

  Martin looked out of the window. “In spring and summer it is even nicer,” he said, “because the trees are not so bare then.”

  “Then we will come back in the spring.”

  “Your German is already quite good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But don’t be surprised if you can’t understand anyone in the village. It’s not your fault.”

  “I know—the local dialect. I know this from China, too. Even going from Beijing to Shanghai... but what about your mother?”

  “She speaks standard German. Don’t worry. We’re not from this area.”

  “And what are the people like here?”

  “They’re friendly and direct. Maybe it is the rural surroundings. You soon get the feeling you belong here. And then again, you don’t.”

  “I understand. I am familiar with it. You are accepted, but you still somehow remain a stranger. It is no different in my home country.”

  “Yes, it’s something like that,” Martin said. “It is usually great for visitors, but it’s different for people living here all the time.” He looked at the map on the display in the center console. He saw that it was another ten kilometers to their destination. Up ahead was a shortcut via a dirt road that the navigation AI did not know about. He placed his hands on the steering wheel.

  “Control, I am taking over the wheel,” he said. The software checked to see that he was looking forward and had his hands on the steering wheel. Then after a short countdown it switched to manual mode. Jiaying pulled her hand back. Martin hoped the shortcut had not become a victim of some new development. He signaled and turned right onto the dirt road. The road was bumpy, but the car’s suspension absorbed most of it. They crossed a railroad line and reached a small forest consisting mostly of fir trees. The sun cast colored dots of light on the narrow road that was now overgrown with grass.

  “Warning, dead-end ahead,” the AI navigation system announced, but Martin knew better. Jiaying once again placed a hand on his thigh.

  “Why don’t you stop for a moment?” she asked. Martin looked over at her on his right and then stopped the car. Jiaying smiled mysteriously and placed her right index finger on her lips.

  “I would like to kiss you once more before we reach your mother’s house,” she said quietly. “You know how shy I am.”

  Martin gave her a wide smile. Of course, shy—sure. Martin unbuckled his seatbelt and turned toward her. Their lips met in a lingering kiss.

  “What were you doing in the forest for such a long time?”

  Martin blushed profusely when his mother confronted them with the question. He had forgotten about the location-sharing mode of the car’s autopilot that he had activated so his mother did not have to repeatedly ask him when they were arriving.

  “We were just trying to pick some mushrooms for you, Ms. Neumaier,” Jiaying answered in almost perfect German, “but unfortunately we did not find any there.” His mother turned toward her and smiled.

  “Elizabeth. Please call me Elizabeth. I am glad you are here.”

  “I am Jiaying. I am glad to meet you, too, Ms. Neumaier.” It took the Chinese woman a moment before she realized her mistake. “Elizabeth. Of course. The German form of polite address is not easy.”

  “Nothing compared to what you have to watch out for in Chinese,” Martin interjected. During the visit to Jiaying’s parents, he had stumbled around the language so much, her father finally asked him to speak English.

  Elizabeth spread her arms and embraced her son’s girlfriend. Jiaying gave in to the affectionate greeting, and then it was Martin’s turn to do the same. At least his mother did not complain about him not visiting for such a long time. He could probably thank Jiaying’s presence for that.

  “Come on in,” his mother said as she opened the front door. Martin was the last one to enter the hallway, and he was immediately struck by a long forgotten smell. It was strange. Although he had not spent his childhood in this house, his nose told him he was home. He smelled his mother’s signature citrusy perfume and the slight chlorine smell of a strong cleaner, layered with the aroma of freshly baked cake. Could such a characteristic scent be packed and brought along when you moved from house to house, or did it occur automatically?

  The hallway was small. They took off their shoes.

  “Do you want slippers?” offered Elizabeth.

  Jiaying shook her head.

  “No,” Martin said, but then remembered the hike they had just finished, and what his socks might now look like. “Actually, yes,” he corrected himself.

  Elizabeth pointed downward, and below the coat rack stood his old slippers. She had really kept them all these years. He put them on, since they at least protected his feet somewhat from the outside world.

  There were three doors off the hallway.

  “This is the bedroom,” his mother said, pointing to the right. “Back there is the bathroom. The trip was long, wasn’t it?”

  Jiaying nodded and disappeared behind the door.

  The remaining door led to the living room.

  “Come along, or do you want to wait outside the bathroom door for your girlfriend?”

  Martin shook his head. Elizabeth opened the living room door and invited him in. “After you,” he said.

  His mother just smiled, so he stepped across the threshold. The room appeared surprisingly small, but maybe the impression was caused by the three crammed bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. Another door, on the narrow side of the room and leading to the kitchen, was framed by more shelves. Only one wall was entirely free of books, and there a large window let in daylight. It was the western side. The sun still shone into the room even though it was almost evening. Martin walked along the bookshelves and saw his old favorites. As a child he had read almost all of his mother’s books, and only a few seemed to have been added since then.

  His mother gave an almost sheepish nod when she saw him looking at the shelves. “Yes, I hardly buy any new books, and I’ve started rereading the old ones. It’s been so long... I can hardly remember the plots.”


  Martin smiled. He hoped she had not stopped buying books because of a lack of money. He was a bit ashamed that he had never asked her about her financial circumstances, and by now he was making enough money to easily support her. Back in his childhood, she had bought him any book in which he showed an interest.

  At first he was fascinated by archeology—Schliemann had been his hero. Martin soon learned, though, that archeological digs were very different now, and each discovery required years of systematic work by a large team. Then his mother had bought him an illustrated book about space, and from that point onward he was awe-struck by the universe. That book might have been the key factor for him eventually taking a position with NASA.

  He took a look out the window. The sun already was very low for this time of day, but after all, it was winter. Next to the window there were pictures hanging on the wall. They showed him, his sister, and his sister’s children, but neither his mother nor his father was visible anywhere. To the very left he saw ancient-looking portraits of his aunts, who had died a long time ago, and below them a wedding picture of his grandparents, which was already quite faded. This would be a good idea for a birthday present, he thought—long ago, before he moved out, he had digitized all the family photos. If he printed out copies and had them framed, his mother would definitely appreciate the effort.

  The door hinges creaked as Jiaying entered the room. Martin noticed his mother getting nervous and acting rather tense.

  “Do sit down,” Elizabeth said, pointing at the table in the middle of the room. Her gestures appeared as if she was trying to usher a flock of lambs into a meadow. Then she turned around and went through the door between the shelves to get to the kitchen.

  “I am getting the coffee,” she called out to them. Martin sat down and Jiaying briefly inspected the room, just like Martin had done earlier. He wondered what his girlfriend might be thinking. On the table he saw a round marble cake with a hole in the middle. A wire mesh cover protected it against flies, though he had not noticed any.

  “Very cozy,” Jiaying said. “Was it like this where you grew up?”

  “The books, yes,” he replied. “I was always surrounded by lots and lots of books.”

  “That must have been great. We could never afford that many books, even though they were much cheaper in my country.”

  That was right—even during his own youth books had become a luxury item, particularly in printed form. But he never had that impression, because there seemed to be an infinite number of them available.

  “As a child, I never considered it a luxury,” he said. “The books were simply there. Like the grass covering the meadow behind the house, or the many trees in the forest.”

  Jiaying sat down and placed her hand on his. The kitchen door opened, and his mother carried a glass coffee pot. They could smell the freshly brewed coffee.

  “Does anyone want milk or sugar?” asked Elizabeth.

  “No thank you,” Jiaying said politely.

  Martin shook his head. “You know I don’t,” he said.

  “Well, I thought maybe you would like it with milk by now.”

  He laughed out loud at his mother’s comment. “Milk? No. You can bet I’ll never drink it with milk.”

  “Many Chinese people do not like milk,” Jiaying added. “Maybe you are half Chinese.”

  His mother poured the coffee. Then she took the wire mesh cover off the cake and placed a piece on each of their plates.

  “Thank you,” Jiaying said with a smile.

  “Marble cake,” Martin said. “What a strange name. The brown color is caused by cocoa. But marble isn’t brown.”

  “As a kid you really liked marble cake, but only the brown parts,” Elizabeth said.

  “Then you took the white parts, which you preferred.”

  His mother smiled. Martin suddenly understood. Could he have been that stupid as a child?

  “You didn’t really prefer the white parts of the cake, did you?”

  He received no answer from her. Elizabeth speared a piece with her cake fork and put it in her mouth. She took a sip of coffee and chewed as she gazed somewhere, but Martin did not know where. He smiled.

  “Sure,” he said, “I understand. I would have done the same.”

  “I actually don’t like marble cake all that much,” Elizabeth blurted out, “but you were always so happy when we baked one.”

  Martin remembered visiting his grandparents. Grandma always baked a cherry cake with a pudding topping. He did not like pudding, but his mother always enjoyed that kind of cake. He made a mental note that he would have to find a recipe to make one and then get some morello cherries.

  Silence reigned for several minutes. It wasn’t an unpleasant silence, more the absence of noise, the kind of quiet that makes you sleepy. A housefly buzzed somewhere around the room. Now and then he could hear a slight clinking sound when someone put down a coffee cup.

  “So what is going to happen with the two of you? Both personally and professionally, I mean.”

  Martin had expected his mother to ask this, hoping she would avoid the topic of children. He looked at Jiaying, who was sitting next to him.

  “I am back working in my office at NASA,” he said, “I don’t need anything else. Jiaying is currently traveling all over the world, so we don’t meet very often.”

  “The Chinese space agency is very proud of our discoveries,” Jiaying said.

  Well, the Chinese are proud of the Chinese astronaut on board, Martin thought, but Jiaying would never say that.

  “Therefore I often represent my country at international conferences, trade fairs, and other events,” Jiaying continued.

  “And do you like it?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Yes, I do. I like being the representative of my country,” his girlfriend explained. She was serious about this, even though she realized she was strengthening the power of the Communist Party apparatus by doing so. A few weeks ago she and Martin had discussed this very topic. Jiaying believed it was necessary for her to thank the nation in which she was born for funding her journey to space.

  The fact that her parents had been mistreated was a completely different issue to her. Even though there never was an official indictment, those responsible certainly did not escape punishment, and probably would spend the coming years in detention camps. Nonetheless, Jiaying was a patriot, an attitude that was alien to Martin. He preferred to be his own representative, but it was also not a major issue between them. They talked about it, understood what motivated the other one, and that was enough.

  “Then that’s fine,” Elizabeth said. “The most important thing is that you enjoy what you are doing. And both of you are young and still have so much time.”

  Martin flinched when he heard those words. Back when his father wanted to do what he enjoyed, researching space with a giant radio dish, his mother had not felt the same way. She had given her former husband an ultimatum, and his father opted for his career and against his family. Thinking, Martin wiped a speck of dust from the tablecloth. This should not be a topic today.

  “Since you probably want to know whether we are going to get married… no, we are not planning to. And if we did, we would do it on our own and everyone else would only hear about it afterward.”

  “I understand, Martin,” his mother said. “Maybe it’s really better that way, being together without any external pressure. And do you want to have children?”

  He froze and gazed at Jiaying. As always, she smiled in a way he could never quite comprehend. How did she always manage to do this? Even after the miscarriage he only saw her cry a single time. At one time she had explained to him that she did not take herself too seriously. He himself was good at the art of suppressing things, but in Jiaying he had found the true master.

  “To be honest, a child does not really fit into our lives,” she said. “I am traveling so much, and I still would like to return to space several times. I just turned 40, so I could stay in the Taikonaut Corp
s for at least another decade.”

  “And then there is the issue of the radiation we were exposed to. Two years in space, that carries a high risk of damage to our genetic material,” Martin added. This, the doctors had explained to them, might have been the reason for the miscarriage. Afterward they both quickly agreed to not try it a second time. With that decision, Martin experienced a strange sense of relief, perhaps due to his latent fear of not being able to become a good father.

  Jiaying’s wish to return to space was more problematic, though, and Martin did not share it at all. Right now, his girlfriend’s face was much too valuable to China for propaganda purposes for the government to consider letting her return to active service. Space travel would always remain dangerous—how awful if this Chinese heroine were to die in an accident. But in two or three years the world would grow tired of seeing Jiaying’s face. Then, she had already explained to him, the time would come for her to throw her unquestionable merits into the balance, so the government would not be able to deny her another flight into space. Martin decided he just would not think about it until then. Who knew what could happen in two years.

  “I understand,” Elizabeth said very calmly. Martin still got the impression his mother had to struggle to keep from showing her disappointment, but maybe he was wrong.

  “Thank you very much for being so open about it,” she added. “Even though you probably think otherwise, Martin, my most important concern is that both of you are happy. I’ve got a nice home here,” she said as she looked around, “and I don’t have to become a grandmother again. I really think women who want to become grandmothers as many times as possible are trying to compensate for errors they made when raising their own children.”

  Martin suddenly had a bad feeling. He suspected—or rather feared—the direction this conversation might take now. He really did not want to talk about it.

  “I still am sorry we cannot offer you that opportunity, Ms. Neumaier… sorry, Elizabeth,” Jiaying said. “I had to explain it to my own parents a few months ago, and it was much more difficult. In our culture, having offspring is so important. My father will have to deal with his branch of the family dying out, because I have no siblings. We could never afford them.”