by Kate Rauner
"You've still got tea?"
"Yeah. Some. But not to worry. You should see the lab manifest. It's the best collection of engineered microbes I've ever seen. Couldn't be better if anyone had actually asked me what to bring. Once I get some bioreactors running, the little guys will be making cotton fibers, cooking oil, and that lovely alkaloid toxin known as coffee.
"I think there's more to coffee than caffeine."
"Piffle. Mere details. I'll work it all out."
"Aren't those bioreactors supposed to produce drugs first? My mom says she's running low on supplies."
Drew heaved an exaggerated sigh. "It's a shame you're so responsible. Yes, I suppose drugs will be my top priority."
"That and feed for the 3D printers."
"Hey, you're right. And you need repair parts for your furnaces. Another excellent reason for you to shuttle up. The bots are installing those printers now, but none of the manufacturing crew is onboard yet."
There was a long pause. Fynn was thinking. Drew chewed on his lip, waiting for his friend.
"You do have a point. I'll look up who's assigned to the lab and ask Mom when she plans to send them."
Drew spun on his heel in celebration, and then Fynn abruptly signed off to go chasing after his flying school club.
There was plenty of work to do in the lab. From where he stood in the far spinward corner by the cryochamber, the entire space spread before him in one open room. The lab was wide enough for four rows of workbenches with a row of tanks in the middle. Cabinets hung on the curved bulkheads, waiting to be filled from storage boxes that cluttered the counters.
Almost everything was plastic. It would all need to be repaired someday, and plastic was a material his microbes could produce from the hydrocarbons on Titan. Stainless steel glinted here and there. Sometimes metal was the only answer for equipment.
Drew snuffled and wiped his nose. Most of the surfaces here were fairly hard, which meant less plasticizers than were used in the domes. That meant less volatiles so it didn't smell as rank and didn't give him headaches. But still... he'd been working all day and deserved a break.
"Orpheus, where's Tyra?"
"Sorry, Drew." The AI replied using its apology voice. "My internal smart tracking isn't running yet, so I don't know."
Drew snorted. Civilization hadn't arrived totally yet. It wasn't lunchtime, so she was probably hanging out in the Herschel's dock.
He strode down the long aisle and through the partially open accordion door to the vestibule. The space was wide-open all the way to the top of the ring where it joined a spoke. He climbed a ladder to the upper deck where a walkway bridged the vestibule. Throughout the ring, the upper level was public space, though right now cargo containers were nested and stacked above Drew's lab, storing valuable raw material for the 3D printers in the other half of the segment.
He swung onto a second ladder that continued through the spoke barrier's doggie door. As the station's centrifugal force lessened, Drew climbed faster until he was gliding along as easily as he had in zero-g.
Drew slid through the core-side doggie door into the part of the Herschel he'd called home for months, and he clambered up rungs on the wall like a monkey. The pods were all below him, stacked like giant atoms in an oversized crystal to take up as little space in the aft end as possible. They contained a lot of metal for the printers, sort of the colony's mine.
No one was in crew quarters, which wasn't surprising since they'd moved all the galley equipment and supplies to the green residential segment. He paused to scan the room anyway as he drifted slowly upward to the dock. He gripped the lip of the opening and peeked over, hoping to surprise Tyra as she worked at a console.
Instead, he saw Knut. He checked the rest of the dock's perimeter with a spin, but Knut was the only one there. Drew's pale mustache pulled down on one side as he frowned. She must be at lunch already in the ring. He could have just walked across the vestibule bridge to find her.
Fortunately, Knut hunkered over a console, so Drew wouldn't get stuck talking to the grim psychologist.
He snatched at the lip again, stopping his descent. There was no reason for Knut to be working at that console. Drew held his breath, trying to hear over the hum of ventilation. Knut was giving voice commands and sounded frustrated. Orpheus answered with its apology voice. Drew held his breath.
Knut slapped the console and grabbed for a handhold. "But you can't refuse access. What if no pilot is available?"
"Sorry, Knut. The pilots' passcode system is exclusive."
Drew pushed off with both hands and popped up like a jack-in-the-box. "Hey, Knut. I was looking for Tyra." He smiled innocently. "Whatcha doing?"
Knut let go with both hands and smoothed his coveralls across his chest. "Watching some assembly videos, but I'm done now. Everyone went to lunch. I was about to join them."
"Yeah," Drew said. "Me, too." He caught himself against the overhead and twisted around, leaving room for Knut to dive through the opening first. The back of his neck prickled as Drew gazed at the console screen, now dark. Maybe he could bring up a transcript of Knut's session. And maybe he was overreacting. He could mention this to Tyra, since she handled programming for the shuttles. Yes, he'd do that.
Having decided, Drew immediately felt better, stretched his arms, and kicked off from the overhead, aiming for the center of the opening to quarters.
***
Mechanics crowded around Evan, wishing him a safe trip. The pilot extended his hand to Fynn. "Thanks for your hospitality."
"Thanks should go to our unit leader." Fynn nodded at Lukas. "I thought, since there's a bed opening up, maybe you wouldn't mind if I move in."
Lukas grinned. "You've always been welcome. Just don't try to throw your weight as a cohort around in my unit."
Fynn offered an exaggerated bow. He was happy to join Lukas' unit in barracks and snagged his yellow personal bag from a nearby bench. It would be a relief to follow someone else's lead part of the time.
"The Hera will be landing in a minute," Evan said. "Orpheus piloted it down and Liam followed in his shuttle to be sure everything went smoothly. While my passengers board, he'll take on a load of water."
"That's what I'd expect from Liam," Fynn said. "He'd never waste a trip. Before you go, Evan, do you mind leaving your wrist comm with me?"
"Not at all." He pulled off the C-shaped band. "We've got enough on the Herschel for every Kin and then some."
Fynn pushed through the barracks' door panel and dropped his bag on the bed Evan had vacated. He was about to go looking for Rica when she stepped inside and threw her arms around his neck.
"You finally joined a barracks," she said, pulling away to smile into his face. "About time. This is where Kin belong."
Fynn shrugged a shoulder, turning to straighten his small duffle on the bed. It had taken time for him to admit it, but he was lonely in his cargo bin. He thought he'd gotten used to that at university, but he'd felt homesick sleeping steps away from the barracks.
Fynn held up Evan's wrist comm. "I've got something for you." He pried at a narrow panel on the band with a fingernail. "There's a chip inside that can be transferred to your flat pad." He explained the secret text channel to the Herschel.
Rica swatted his arm. "You've had comms with the Herschel all along and didn't tell me?"
Fynn's broad mouth widened in a grin. "I'm telling you now. It just takes a minute to install." He plopped down on the bed, and she handed him her pad.
"Come on, barracks mate." Lukas pushed open the door. "Our unit is escorting Evan to the dock."
"My women's unit is going too," Rica said.
Fynn fell into the middle of the group, lightly bouncing along with the others. Once in the Village, he dropped back, preparing to join the cohorts. Maliah was already there, enveloped in the red sweatshirt, her yellow personal bag on the floor at her feet. She and the baby she carried were going to the station, and Maj stood at her side.
The Council
had agreed to supervise the shuttle loading and since today's curfew didn't apply to mornings, people crowded around the airlock. The dome rang with cheerful voices as buckets from the greenhouse were stacked onboard. It seemed that every Kin had turned out.
From across the busy playing field, Greta led the passengers. Each man and woman carried their yellow personal bag as eagerly as anyone embarking on holiday. During negotiations, Liam had continued to charge station systems with water, so the station was ready to receive a full complement of thirty-six Kin, including one trustee. As usual, Greta kept her face composed, but her blue eyes sparkled. She'd worked hard to include that trustee, Fynn knew, to prove Kin were united.
Fynn swung wide behind the approaching passengers so as not to break through their line, and saw the cohorts clumped at the hatch. Maliah stood a short distance away with only Maj at her side. That was odd, because Magnus usually hovered at her shoulder like a pale gray vulture.
Fynn took a high hop, scanning the crowd. No sign of Magnus.
He ran a hand through his dark hair. The Council had agreed to release Evan to pilot these passengers to the Herschel. Maliah and Magnus had been at the meeting, though they hadn't said much.
He was too far from Maliah to have a good look at her expression, but she was standing chin up, with her hands clasped behind her back, bouncing a little in her toes. Like she'd won a competition. A chill tightened Fynn's chest.
Mechanics surrounded Evan, and the Council stood at the airlock door. There was only one other place anyone could go to cause trouble. Fynn galloped to the tunnel, through the greenhouse, and across the Mechanics dome. He zig-zagged between cargo bins and past crewmates perched on the furnace platform. A glance told him a flier was missing. Fynn grabbed one for himself and ran straight to the airlock.
An open charging station said one of the life support packs was also missing. Magnus must be outside.
Fynn paused. What could he accomplish outside? The shuttle would back into the Village dock and set its clamps, sealing it's only hatch against the dome.
Unless he wasn't after the passenger shuttle.
Liam was picking up a load of water.
Fynn slammed a fist into his thigh. This was so stupid. Mom had worked everything out, so Magnus would get time onboard the station like everyone else. It was crazy to think he was after Liam's Poseidon.
Fynn stared at the empty charging position as his stomach turned to stone. Magnus would get a trip to the station eventually. Mom would send everyone on a rotating schedule. Maybe it didn't matter when he went. So what if he snuck onboard the Poseidon? Maybe Fynn didn't need to do anything.
There was no time to puzzle it out. If Liam didn't want Magnus onboard today, that was good enough.
He grabbed a suit.
***
The helmet's heads-up should display a signal from other suits in use. Maybe he was wrong and Magnus wasn't outside. As he streaked toward the fuel depot, Fynn hoped so.
He clenched his jaws. This was insane. He needed to warn Liam and flew one-handed, soaring upward as he tried to pull his suit's sleeve pad into view.
They all struggled to make the colony succeed, didn't they? Liam and the pilots. Max and Emily and their crews. Even Fynn after his father was killed. Not that there was much of a choice. Work together or die.
Maliah knew that as well as he did. Why attack the pilots again? Of course, why did she grab Evan? But an assault on the Herschel made less sense now, when their mom had everything arranged.
Fynn needed to talk to Liam, and Drew always monitored comms.
"Drew, can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, buddy. What are you..."
"No time. Patch me through to Liam."
The commander's gruff voice was unmistakable. "Fynn. What's up?"
"Magnus is out here, somewhere nearby."
"Only see you on my displays," Liam said.
Fynn got both hands on the flier controls and circled the depot. Far below him, the shuttle sat on the ground with both decapods creeping alongside. "Magnus could have disabled his beacon."
"Makes no sense to do such a thing." Liam didn't sound concerned.
"That's the problem." Fynn was about to panic if the commander wouldn't listen. "It's nuts. But I think he's after your shuttle."
"Nonsense. Maliah's shuttling up with Evan today. She'll be onboard in person, and the Herschel's Kin can't wait to see her. She doesn't need Magnus."
In a glint of reflected Saturn shine, a figure shot from behind an oxygen tank, straight for the Poseidon's hatch. The decapods' safety protocols kicked in and the bots froze.
"Liam, can you lock your cargo hatch?"
It was too late. The door swung open.
Liam's chuckle rattled through the channel. "You're right, Fynn. Guess I have a passenger after all. Not a comfortable ride for anyone, squeezed between tanks in the cargo bay."
"The hatch door's still open." Fynn's breath rasped in his throat. This wasn't over. He dived for the surface.
Liam shrieked. "He's opening the cabin!"
As Fynn hit the ground, the shuttle lurched to one side and the open door swung into his flier, knocking him end over end. The ship rose drunkenly off balance.
Drew's shout rang in Fynn's helmet. "Orpheus, close the cabin door."
"I'm sorry, Drew, but I cannot. That door is manually operated."
Fynn scrambled for his flier as it spiraled on the ground, pushing hard against the thick atmosphere. By the time he yanked it upright and took off, the shuttle was out of sight.
"Drew, the shuttle didn't crash, did it?"
"Telemetry says it's gaining altitude."
"Maybe I can catch it. Which way?"
"Doesn't matter." Drew voice was harsh. "It's too high in the atmosphere. Emergency auto-return has engaged. It went up like a rocket."
"Liam." Fynn yelled, though a whisper over the comm link would have been enough if Liam was listening. If he could hear.
"Evan's taken off too," Drew said. "Says he's tracking Liam's shuttle."
If Liam had gotten the cabin door closed, he would have answered by now. He didn't have a space suit.
Liam died when Magnus cracked open the bridge hatch. Magnus must have known that attacking Liam instead of wrestling the cargo door closed would leave him in a vacuum as the shuttle climbed. Maybe he didn't realize how fast a shuttle could gain altitude. Or he'd focused on killing and didn't remember he could die too. That a surface suit was no good in space.
Fynn took a deep breath to steady his mind. No, Magnus might send someone else on a suicide mission, but he wouldn't accept death for himself. He wasn't impulsive either. The old security cohort would have planned this assault and known a surface suit's limitations. Of course, he wouldn't have expected anyone to warn Liam, but he might have contingencies if his plan went wrong. He might be alive.
Fynn had been talking to Liam, so the shuttle's comm link was still open. "Magnus, are you receiving? This is Fynn."
If he'd gotten the doors closed in time, surely, Magnus would want to gloat.
Nothing.
Fynn tried to provoke a reply. "The Herschel won't let you dock. You'll starve to death in space."
Silence.
After a long pause, Drew called. "The shuttle's on auto-pilot, so I can't change its flight path, but I can monitor life support. There's nothing but red lights, Fynn. Pressure, temperature. All red."
This couldn't be happening. Fynn gripped the flier until the gloves scraped his knuckles painfully. He forced a thumb free and cut the blower, allowing the flier to drift down.
Magnus didn't have a flier with him when he boarded the Poseidon. If he'd squeezed through the tanks in time to jump, he could have survived the fall.
Fynn opened all the suit channels. "Magnus, can you hear me? It's a long walk to the domes. Your batteries won't last."
His pulse roared in his ears and Fynn held his breath to listen. Nothing. Silence. Any sane person would call for hel
p. Not that he was sure he'd rescue Magnus if the man did respond.
Fynn flew farther along the peninsula. The suit slid roughly over sweat as he twisted, scanning the ground for a fallen body. Titan suddenly seemed like a very big moon.
"You alright, buddy?" Drew commed. "I'm watching the dome cameras. Something's going on in the Village."
Fynn swore and streaked toward the domes.
***
As soon as he stripped off the suit, Fynn felt his flat pad vibrating. It was a text from Rica.
Fynn where are you? We need you at the Village dock.
He slammed the backpack into its charger, left the suit in a pile on the floor, and headed out the airlock.
The furnace crew shouted at him, but he didn't slow down until he burst into the Village. Space between the men's barracks and mess hall was empty, but Kin swarmed at the airlock.
His coveralls grated against Fynn's skin, and his pulse raced from his run through the domes. He navigated the crowd's edge until he found the Council. Maliah was still there, gesturing angrily, obviously arguing with Greta. Several Kin clutched yellow bags to their chests, but most of his mom's patients had boarded and the hatch was sealed. The shuttle seemed to be gone.
Chap ter 18
T he airlock was packed with Mechanics. Despite their blue coveralls, Maliah knew who they were. Fynn had expected some demonstration of her authority at the Village dock and had them ready.
Chaos erupted.
That nervous pilot, Evan, leaped away from his position at the shuttle's hatch, knocked passengers to the floor, and slammed the Hera's door. The few Kin still queued to board fell back, and somehow Mechanics slid into the airlock and shoved that door closed. Maliah, who'd planned to board last, was left standing with the Council as confusion spread through the bon voyage crowd.
Maj pushed against the mob, calling for someone to open the hatch, but from the auburn glow at the door's porthole, Maliah realized the shuttle had undocked.
