by Kate Rauner
The first team to land on Titan had been built around the skills needed to set up the domes. That made sense of course, but it also meant that most of his barracks mates, his real mates from the Kin's compound on Earth, were still in stasis.
When they awakened, they'd know nothing about the splits between Kin. There'd be no reason for them to ban him from their Village unit. If he joined them, that might rehabilitate Fynn or it might create a new faction.
Fynn snuggled close to Rica. A sleeping bin was his best choice. Maybe he'd never be a proper Kin again.
***
Fynn flew back to the furnace dome's airlock with his crew, tired and frustrated. Pumping methane from the lake to the depot's supply tank went smoothly enough, but they'd barely produced a cup of water for the electrolysis unit. Chopping at the ice quarry trench with hand tools was pointless. The ice was hard as granite. It would take forever to chip enough loose to produce oxygen, and without oxygen, methane won't burn.
As he approached the dock, Fynn banked around the plume of ice fog, tinted yellow by sky glow as it coiled up from the furnace exhaust stack. While adding CO2 to the greenhouse was necessary to maximize food production, most of it, along with combustion water, was vented. Today, in calm air with no sign of a storm, the steam flash-froze to tiny crystals and floated up, gradually spreading out and disappearing against the orange sky.
If only he could pipe that water to the electrolysis unit, all his troubles would be over. But the depot was too far away. There was no way to keep the water liquid in Titan's overwhelming cold.
Fynn jerked his flier up, cut the blower, and wafted down through the fog. Sparkling crystals bounced off his faceplate, frozen too hard to stick. A bucket of this fluffy snow would be perfect feed for the electrolysis system.
He dove for the dock apron. "Guys, I have an idea."
Inside the dome, they cut down empty bins to form a long, narrow collection chamber. Ben used a patch kit welder to form tabs and slots to make the rig easy to assemble outside and added several removable cleanout panels.
Fynn stood back, admiring their work. "Now all we need is a vent for excess air."
"How about a small hole at the end?" Ben said. "Maybe add a baffle."
Fynn grinned as others joined in with suggestions.
"We could make a venturi."
"At these particle sizes? That won't work."
"Suppose Ben makes a funnel shaped outlet?"
"Good enough, but how will we attach this thing to the stack?"
"Rotate the stack down to aim at the ground and then rig something."
This was the happiest Fynn had been in a long time, as if he was back at university, discussing a problem with his lab mates and planning experiments to find the best solution.
He stood back while the crew surrounded their collection chamber, tugging on it in places to test the seams. They'd need buckets to transport snow to the depot, with lids since the crystals were so fluffy.
Max would give him what he needed. The farming cohort collected every empty meal bucket and, while he wouldn't say so openly, he sympathized with Fynn's crew.
Liam would get his shuttle fuel so Kin could be awakened. His mother was happy with the Gravitron, and Fynn kept the furnaces cobbled together well enough to produce all the power the colony needed. Maybe Maliah would forget about the algae cake edict.
His father would be pleased.
Chap ter 6
T he Gravitron spun with a full load of forty-five Kin on this run, and Greta administered a centrifugal treatment equivalent to half Earth gravity for an hour. Now she gradually reduced the rotational rate, allowing ten minutes to bring the machine to a stop, and left the operator's console to evaluate her patients.
Her three medics moved to slots holding Kin most sensitive to a scrambled sense of motion as inner ears, eyes, and skin told different stories to their brains. Waves of nausea would pass quickly if they lay still. All the Mechanics available hopped to other slots, catching people as they rolled over a lip to drop slowly to the floor. Several Kin, proud of their ability to withstand the long spin, grinned as Greta walked past.
She hurried to Maliah, climbed onto the foot rail, and unlatched her slot's safety bar. "Lie still for a moment." Of course, she wouldn't listen.
Maliah grabbed two handholds and pulled herself into a sitting position. She waved to Kin in nearby slots and to a group on the floor who'd stopped to watch her. They straightened their shoulders and beamed back.
"I feel fine," she said. "Here comes Maj, so you can go find someone who needs doctoring." But Maliah did grip Greta's arm before shifting to the foot rail and let Maj steady her as she dropped to the floor.
Greta crouched below the ring. After a quick count, she estimated there was at least one person to assist every two Kin exiting the Gravitron treatment. That was enough. She could commandeer more help from the greenhouse, but Max would fret. He kept most Kin searching through the plants for any reemergence of those blasted whiteflies. How the tiny bug survived decontamination was a mystery, but not one worth puzzling over. The solution wasn't of any use because no one expected more ships from Earth to arrive. Maybe not ever.
Maliah walked past rows of benches, and Kin seated there struggled to rise and greet her. Greta frowned. On the plus side, motion sickness demonstrated that their vestibular balance systems were functional, and that could not be assumed after extended low-gravity exposure. Perhaps she should be more concerned about the Kin who boasted they suffered no effects.
Her patients would be more comfortable if they remained seated, but dragging themselves to their feet shouldn't cause any damage. Her daughter stopped often to exchange a few words and even laid a hand on one man's forehead. She was picking up a lot of the mannerisms Tanaka once used, moving ever more firmly into place as a spiritual leader.
Greta's eyes focused on the tight fabric at her daughter's midsection. Her pregnancy was starting to show. If Greta had been skeptical about Maliah's claim before, her doubts were fading. She should administer an ultrasound in another month, but Maliah resisted medical exams.
All the prenatal and obstetric supplies were stored onboard the Herschel, sealed away until the station's ring could be pressurized. Greta hated to admit it, but perhaps exams didn't matter. She had very little information on low-gravity pregnancies, and there wasn't a lot she could do.
She knew more about compassion fatigue. Kin who'd been on Titan the longest found it painful to tell their newly arrived barracks mates about deaths in the colony. They would soon resent reliving their own grief. Already, people came to the clinic more often for sleep aids now that newly awakened Kin arrived every other day. Some hid among the hydroponics instead of joining everyone in the mess hall, but there was really no place to escape.
Small groups clustered around her medics, who were leading impromptu therapy sessions. Greta and her team frequently discussed the best approach to managing chronic stress levels. During evenings in the clinic, she facilitated conversations to help the medics relieve their own burdens.
Her flat pad vibrated in a pocket and Greta pulled it out. Liam sent a private message, alerting her to the latest awakening results. After several levels where all Kin survived, today one woman was dead in her pod. They were loading the body into a shuttle now, along with eleven survivors and bags of stasis fluid for Max to recycle in the greenhouse.
I'll announce the shuttle's departure on the open channel, Liam texted. How do you want to handle the death?
Greta's peripheral vision closed in as she focused on the name Liam relayed. She'd known this woman from her days in school barracks. They hadn't worked together since, but she still felt like a personal friend.
She texted back, when you announce that the shuttle's leaving the ship's dock, I'll contact people down here.
She'd grant herself a few moments alone with the news before looking up the woman's current barracks mates in her medical file. Any of them who were awake deserved a messag
e in advance, so Greta would send medics out to find each one and deliver the news as gently as possible.
Depending on the reactions encountered, Greta might need to stay with the woman's friends. She'd hoped to meet Evan at the dock and convince the shuttle pilot to stay for a session in the Gravitron. He'd been in zero-g since the Herschel arrived at Titan. Crew on the ship suffered worse than Kin in the domes. Treatment was vital to limit damage and hopefully reverse some effects. But a few more days couldn't matter much, could it? This death reduced her plans to trivialities.
Stumbling over the rough repair in the floor, Greta turned away from Kin recovering from their treatment spin. There was time to retreat to her office, shut the door, and rest. Close her eyes. She'd talk to the woman's closest friends soon and needed her strong, professional calm to face them.
***
Fynn sat with the Mechanics on benches surrounding their little plaza, with a microwave next to him, its cord snaking to a barracks outlet. The oven dinged, Lukas removed a cup, and handed it to him with a flourish.
Fynn sniffed the fragrant steam. "Tea. Where did this come from?"
Several people grinned, but Lukas answered. "While everyone was either riding the Gravitron or occupied on the hydroponics frames, someone - I'm not saying who - swiped a couple of the kitchen's microwaves and a handful of teabags."
"Tea from the tower storeroom?"
"Yup. The trustees were either aboard the Gravitron themselves or watching Maliah's spin. You'd be surprised at the supplies they've hidden there. Maybe someone will make another run sometime to look for sugar tubs."
Lukas lifted out the microwave's tray and carried it around until all the cups were claimed. People disappeared behind a line of bins and pallets to return with more. They heated batches until everyone held a hot drink.
"I've been outside," Lukas said. "There's plenty of snow built up in the collection chamber, so we took some for our barracks. No more begging buckets of water from the greenhouse. We'll charge all our recycling tanks and have fresh water too."
Everyone stared at him steadily, and Fynn realized they were waiting for approval. No one ever paid so much attention to what he thought before. He sipped his tea. The fragrance cleared his sinuses and the warmth comforted his soul. Fynn beamed. "Great idea, guys."
A sudden worry struck Fynn, and he looked over the barracks to the dome wall.
Rica read his mind. "The stevedores moved all the dome cameras and focused them on the furnaces. Not on us. No one can see us..." A sneer entered her voice. "As we break curfew."
Approval rippled through the group.
Their leisurely tea break ended when a message pinged in their ear gels. Awakened Kin were shuttling down from the Herschel.
Cheers cut off abruptly as Greta's voice began a second message. Her tone was grim. "I must share some unfortunate news with you. Sadly, this awakening was not entirely successful. We have suffered the loss of one person."
Everyone froze. The names of Kin in each stasis level were posted on the cybernet, so anyone expecting to greet a friend dreaded the next words.
Greta continued. "Hedda Stenson did not awaken. Her barracks mates have been notified and I ask each of you to offer your support."
Fynn's coveralls snapped to blue. He flinched as always, and a few curses floated through the group. But Maliah's voice in his ear was sympathetic. "All Kin, I invite you to come to the playing field. Let's join together to wait for eleven newly awakened Kin, and for Hedda, who will join our martyrs on Black and White Hill."
Mika, whose lemon yellow coveralls had also flipped to blue, shook her head. "Hedda was in the barracks unit next to mine, back on Earth. Sometimes we'd practice morning Qigong together."
"I miss the old barracks," a nearby man said. "Remember how the units would spread over the playing field for their chosen morning exercises? When we had a full Council of Cohorts, barracks rights were respected."
"I'll never see some of my barracks mates," Mika said. "The ones with children younger than barracks age, younger than seven. They're Kin, but we left them behind on Earth."
Rica stared into her cup as she spoke. "It was necessary to leave the youngest and oldest on Earth. The stasis process is too dangerous for them."
"No one asked them, or me. What's happening to them now?" Tears built in Mika's eyes. "Tanaka brought us here to escape the mongrels, but those we left behind are surrounded. Did the Herschel's creditors seize the old compound? Do my friends have anywhere to live?"
"Tanaka told us he'd protected the compound, that he'd severed the property as an asset so no one could seize it for debts. Someday..." Rica's voice trailed off.
When people talked about Kin left behind, someone always wondered if there might, someday, be a second colony ship. Another stasis death made that seem more impossible than ever. Mika mourned her abandoned friends as deeply as anyone mourned Hedda's death.
Fynn sipped his tea, hoping to ease the ache in his throat. Rica caught his eye and raised her brows in a silent appeal. He should say something comforting, but couldn't think of a single word, and shook his head.
Olsen's freckles stood out plainly on his pale face. "I didn't know Hedda very well, but I want to honor her. All of us belong together right now."
Olsen gazed at Fynn. So did Mika and others. They looked miserable.
Fynn knew equipment. Technology. But he felt the emptiness too, a void that he couldn't fill. "Then let's go to the Village. Anyone who wants to."
They crossed the gray floor, maneuvering among cargo and through a gap in the bin-wall to the greenhouse tunnel. On the Village playing field, Kin dressed in blue assembled to face the tower at the dome's center. Fynn led the Mechanics to the rear of the crowd like any other barracks unit.
A life-size image of Tanaka popped up on the top balcony. It shimmered before solidifying on its holographic plinth.
Maliah stood next to Tanaka's static image, and because of the pedestal's height, her head was at his chest level. The dome echoed with whirring ventilation fans, but her voice was clear in Fynn's ear. "Doctor Tanaka will never be truly gone. His wisdom continues to guide us on our new world."
She turned to the image, staring up at the round face, its jaw edged with a neat white beard. Tanaka began to move. Hundreds of his speeches had been recorded, and Maliah could doubtless manipulate a file to say exactly what she wanted. His words felt familiar, though.
"I salute you, the first Kin on Titan. You are explorers and conquerors. Wherever Kin journey, we remained true humans. On Earth, lesser societies grew around us over the centuries, devolved and debased peoples who threatened to consume us. Many of our ancestors fell and, over the centuries, our numbers dwindled. But we escaped destruction. On Titan, we seize our historic destiny.
"Hedda Stenson joins our honored martyrs, heroes of the Kin. She will be laid on Titan's surface, preserved forever in the purifying cold, an inspiration for us and our progeny."
Tanaka's image faded, and Maliah raised her fist overhead. "Kin, Kin, Kin."
Fynn didn't hesitate, and neither did his crew. They pumped their fists and chanted with the rest. "Kin, Kin, Kin." Bouncing on their feet, rows in front of them lifted off the floor in waves, rising and drifting back down.
Maliah leapt over the railing, spreading her arms and legs. A gasp ran through the crowd, and Fynn noticed she had a blue sheet of some sort across her body, stretched to her hands and feet. That would slow her fall compared to Fynn's recent dive. She somersaulted as her feet touched the floor to land standing upright. No one bothered with the sheet she'd somehow disengaged as it fluttered away.
Neat trick, but Maliah was a good gymnast. She could still take Fynn's breath away.
She raised her hands wide, and the first row of Kin swung into place on either side, arms held out straight with hands on each other's shoulders. The pattern was familiar, and more rows joined to form an inner circle facing outward. The rest encircled them, facing inward. Each circle moved
in an opposite direction with a slow, stomping gait, an endurance march they'd continue until interrupted when the shuttle landed.
The Mechanics hopped forward eagerly, tapping a person in the outer circle to break lose and let them in.
Instead, both circles broke apart, swinging wide to face Fynn and his crew. Vanja, one of the trustees, pointed straight at Fynn and shouted. "Insurgents are not welcome here. We're not wrench monkeys."
Rica planted her fists on her hips. "Without our technology, you'd all be dead."
"Yeah, and without vacuum bots the floors would be dirty, but bots aren't Kin either. Greenhouse and Village crews do proper work for true Kin."
"You're not making sense. Emily's crew maintains equipment, just like us."
"In the Village, idiot. They're Village Kin. Blue Kin." Vanja scanned the crowd triumphantly. There were many downward glances, people not meeting her eyes, but no one objected, and a few grinned, egging her on.
"Fynn's crew is more Kin than any of you," Rica said.
A flush tingled through Fynn's limbs and he twisted a hand in his hair. He should say something before things got out of control, so he stepped forward, but words caught in his throat.
"This frog face thinks he's Kin?" Vanja jumped and her hand struck Fynn's chest.
The throng surged in confused groups, some falling back while others rushed forward. Fynn caught sight of adjuncts on fliers streaking down to surround Maliah, but he tripped and lost his bearings.
Rica's curly head appeared before him. Fynn grabbed her elbow and scrambled backward toward the men's barracks and the greenhouse tunnel. "Get out of here. Get everyone out." He dove into the confusion of thrashing bodies, pulling someone off Olsen. "Back to our dome."
***
Kumar's deft fingers touched Olsen's nose. "Lean forward until the bleeding stops. After that, elevate your head. Can someone wet this compress for me?"
