The Gypsy Comet

by London, Lia

  This was news to me. “Faneps?”

  One of the ambassadors from the northern hemisphere of Tye pursed his lips in distaste. Gesturing with his hands, he explained, “Faneps are about this size—like a cat—but humanoid.”

  “Except not,” added another woman emphatically.

  “Of course not. Not human.” The Tye ambassador frowned. “They have sharp teeth in rows, and they live underwater.”

  I knew each of these things but feigned ignorance. “Why would they need claws if they live underwater? Wouldn’t they need fins or webbed feet of some kind?” Faneps were, in fact, the most adaptable species imaginable, able to live underwater, underground, or up in trees, but he probably didn’t know that.

  The man gave me a patronizing chuckle. “Someone paid enough attention in biology classes to know about features of aquatic species.” He shook his head as if dismissing my knowledge. “You have no idea what lives on the Surface, I’m sorry to say. Some of the creatures on Tye are horrifyingly alien.”

  He’d mistaken me for a spacey?

  My distraction misled the woman. “Ambassador,” she chided gently. “You’ve confused her.” She glanced my way. “You know an ICS dweller can’t be expected to remember anything that doesn’t pertain directly to her comfort.”

  That remark snapped me back into focus. “On the contrary, we on the Arxon are ‘expected to remember’ facts pertaining to all three worlds, not just one or two neighboring colonies at a time.”

  Jana stepped into view beyond their shoulders and gave me a warning pout, but she relaxed when the ambassador and the woman laughed warmly.

  “She’s got you there,” said the ambassador to the woman. Turning to me, he touched my elbow and directed me away from the circle. “Tell me, Miss…”

  “Artemus,” I supplied. “Brita Artemus. My husband is the second-in-command of the medical department.”

  “And she’s my best friend,” interjected Jana, sidling up to us. “Ambassador Ramon, won’t you tell us about the Surface? Which is your colony?”

  “Thaine.” His eyes took on a flirtatious slant. “Do you know anything about Thaine, Mrs. Artemus? Or is your knowledge of the Surface limited to fundamental sciences.”

  Jana shot me a warning grimace, and I countered with a confident smile. “It’s south of Arecife, isn’t it? Quite a temperate climate despite the seasonal storms.”

  They all dropped their jaws, and I took a sip of my drink to hide my amusement.

  “Mrs. Lew,” said Ambassador Ramon with mock reproach. “Where have you been hiding this treasure? A spacey who knows Tye geography!”

  Jana flushed. “Isn’t she delightful? Shall I bring the two of you some canapes while you get acquainted?” She didn’t wait for his answer, and I found myself standing alone with him.

  He drifted closer. “What else do you know about Tye? Have you ever wanted to go there?”

  I weighed my words to make sure they would leave the correct impression without lying. “Tye fascinates me. There’s such a diversity of cultures.”

  Ambassador Ramon scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Ugh. That’s the problem. Every island chain feels the need to do things completely differently.”

  This seemed a hopeful opening. “Do you wish for more unity, then?”

  His patronizing smile returned, and he brushed his hand down my bare arm. “But unity under which culture? There’s no coming together in any kind of agreement.”

  I smoothed my hair, releasing myself from his touch tactfully. “Does unity require conformity?”

  He chuckled. “Says the woman who spends all her days in a beige coversuit except when there is a special party.”

  “I see your point, Ambassador.” I summoned my most deferential tones. “The ICS system is indeed unified and uniform, but I suppose we started that way. It was the colonists who decided to make things more interesting.”

  His brow twitched, and he gave a leering grin. “You find colonists interesting?”

  My stomach churned with discomfort. He had to be almost three times my age. Jana returned then, and I adopted her flouncy tone. “Well, of course. Isn’t this fashion much more fun than the coversuits?” I flourished my hand at Jana, redirecting his gaze.

  He focused on a glimpse of Jana’s exposed thigh. “It is indeed.”

  Her laugh tinkled like vials of glass, and she passed us each a small plate of savory canapes. “Oh Ambassador, you flatter me. Now do tell us about your colony. What is the latest gossip?”

  I did my best to divert the ambassador’s attention to Jana while inserting a few strategic questions, always with starry-eyed innocence in my delivery. From this tortuous and degrading interview, I learned many things which only served to tangle my mind more with the complex politics of the Granbo System.

  That night, as I curled against Dag in bed, I told him of the ordeal.

  His body shook with laughter. “Brita, my beautiful comet, you’re not doing the socialite act right. You’re supposed to ask about the latest fashions and which colony celebrities are involved in salacious scandals. No one at those parties cares about politics and socio-economic injustices.”

  “They were all governors and ambassadors or their spouses.”

  He coiled his fingers through mine. “That doesn’t mean they talk about anything important when they’re together.”

  “But they’re the politicians, the leaders who can affect change.”

  Dag stroked my hair lovingly. “You assume they want change. The colonists are perfectly happy hating each other. They hate us, too, but they need the ICS system if they want to facilitate trade of natural resources and commodities. Like it or not, we’re the heartbeat of the economy.”

  I buried a heavy sigh in his chest. “So, unless it’s related to profitable commerce, they don’t care?”

  “Did you sense otherwise from anyone you talked to?”

  “No.”

  “The Granbo Charter may be a broken mess, but everyone’s ultimately happy with it.”

  “No, they’re not.”

  “Satisfied, then.”

  I leaned up on my elbow. “No, they’re not.”

  Dag regarded me with wise eyes. “The gypsies?”

  “The gypsies.”

  “They’re going to have to convince the ICS fleet and the colony governors it’s in their economic best interest to integrate the gypsies into their society. Otherwise…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head sadly.

  “What about the interest of coming together across this System. As allies. As…I don’t know. A family of humankind.”

  “That is a beautiful ideal, and I can see why it appeals to you, but it isn’t practical. As flawed as the system is, people won’t fight for change of any kind until doing something becomes easier than not doing something.” Inhaling deeply, he tucked his hands behind his head. “It reminds me of when medics had to develop vaccines for the various diseases encountered on the planets. For a while, no one wanted to invest the time and resources to solve the problem. They thought it was easier to stay isolated and hope for the best. When that became impossible because some people insisted on traveling—”

  “You mean the gypsies.”

  He nodded. “The gypsies and others. It forced the issue because people got sick, both on the planet and in space. Once it hit the ICS fleet, the urgency became real to them, and suddenly there were resources and currency allocated to solving the problem.”

  I released a bitter laugh. “So, the gypsies, by being dirty disease spreaders, ended up saving the system from communicable diseases because they forced the issue.”

  “That’s not the most favorable way to put it, but…” He shrugged.

  “Maybe it will be up to the gypsies to force the issue again.”

  “Which issue this time?”

  “The disease of hatred, of bigotry against the unknown—whether that means against gypsies or between any of the colonies or city-stations.”

  Dag stroke
d my cheeks with his thumbs before giving me a sweet, simple kiss. “That will take something much bigger than a canflu epidemic. Are you prepared to tear up this corner of the sky to reach your ends?”

  “I’m a gypsy comet.” I settled against him feeling the tug of sleep.

  “Rest now. We can untangle the web of politics in the morning light.”

  I snorted. “There’s no morning light on an ICS.”

  “No, but there is on a planet.” He paused, and I felt the air in the room thicken with anticipation. “Maybe we could make a quick drop the next time we pass Caren.”

  I squeezed him, afraid to answer in case he rescinded the offer. Quick drops cost more, requiring private transports for the return trip.

  “Don’t you have some connections in the Jammu Colony?”

  “Yes.”

  “News casts don’t show any unrest in that region. Maybe we could spend a few days there so I could try Surface life one more time.”

  Kilos of stress melted away. I wrapped myself around Dag and drifted off to sleep.

  28 ~ Jana’s Baby

  We were still almost forty days away from quick drop range, and each day wound another layer of anxiety around me. Part of me couldn’t leave the Arxon soon enough, and the other part feared losing my only other friend. Jana was frivolous but kind. As word of the Artemus family visiting Caren circulated the resident decks, a new wave of tension grew. I’d round corners or enter lifts and hear snippets of conversations that constricted my throat.

  “…she’s half gypsy, but that’s half too much if you ask me…”

  “…can’t trust a doctor who lives with a dirty gypsy…”

  “…their poor daughter will be exposed to all that…”

  “…she’s definitely corrupted Dag Artemus…”

  Dag sat with me and Felly in the cafeteria one morning when a heated conversation behind us revealed a faction developing on the resident decks that wanted Dag barred from practicing medicine anywhere but the Quarantine Deck.

  “My husband is Council Chair.” Jana Lew’s voice rang out, her fists on her hips. “And he says he wouldn’t trust anyone but Dr. Artemus to deliver my baby. I agree. He’s done years’ worth of research more than any other medic on board. We’re incredibly lucky to have him.”

  My face flushed, and my eyes locked on Dag’s across the table from me. If the speakers knew we sat nearby, they showed no sign. Felly was too young to heed their words as she fingered the powdered eggs.

  “Well, when the mighty Mr. Lew is stationmaster someday, he can promote the gypsy lover to Chief Medical Officer, but until then, I’ll go to Dr. Gene or Dr. Richart.”

  Jana stormed past us towards the exit, red-faced and breathing hard.

  Dag watched her go, his brows furrowed. “I need to follow her.”

  “Dag, no,” I hissed, clamping his hand down to the table with my palm. “Don’t make a scene. She just defended you.”

  “It’s not that. Something’s wrong.”

  Startled by his expression, I bolted into motion, picking up Felly and racing Dag to the door. We’d no doubt receive demerits for leaving our trays at the table.

  In the hall outside, Jana still moved quickly, but a few meters away, she suddenly gasped and leaned heavily into the wall.

  “Jana!” I called.

  “Mrs. Lew, are you all right?” Dag beat me to her side and steadied her on her feet.

  “I think something’s wrong. Could the baby be coming this soon?”

  “No,” I assured her, adjusting Felly on my hip. “It’s two month’s early. You just—”

  “Come with me.” Dag took her by the hand. “There’s no time to get to the medic ward. Can you make it to our suite?”

  Shocked, I watched the two of them discuss issues with her pregnancy neither had ever told me. Before they cleared the next corner, I rushed on ahead to our quarters. Setting Felly down in her enclosed play area, I cleared the bright pillows off our sofa. I’d covered them in the cloth from my gypsy skirts.

  “Get the pearl powder!” called Dag, now carrying Jana into our quarters. “Hurry.”

  “But the stationmaster said—”

  “Hurry!”

  I scrambled into our bedroom and opened the drawer with our valuables. Chief among these was the large vial of pearl powder serum, a potent regenerative and healing elixir, especially as it reacted with the natural adrenaline of a body in distress.

  Kneeling beside Jana, I fumbled with a spoon. “Jana? Open your eyes, Jana.”

  She groaned and turned to me, sweat dripping from her brow.

  “Jana, I need you to drink this from the spoon. Don’t spill. Here, I’ll hold it for you.”

  Dag helped direct her head, and I placed the liquid in her mouth. While I pinched her lips shut, he worked to unzip her coversuit.

  “These stupid things were not designed with birthing in mind,” he grumbled. “Quick, go grab her a blanket. We’ll need one under her and one to keep her warm.”

  I returned moments later to see my best friend naked on the couch, my husband bent over her, dispassionate and professional, coaxing answers from her about contractions and symptoms. Together we worked her onto the blanket and found a comfortable position for her, and then Dag began issuing orders for me to bring various supplies to him. Water, his spare surgical bag, sanitizers, and more. I stopped listening for more than an action required because if I tried to understand what was happening, I’d panic. Dag, however, remained calm and cool.

  At one point, he told me to summon Jana’s husband. “Go bring him here.” I moved to the communication console, but Dag raised his voice.

  “No, don’t call. Go get him.”

  “But…”

  “Go!”

  I ran out into the corridor, my feet pounding faster than my heart. Jostling through clusters of slow movers and vaulting a utility bot, I slammed the lift button and continued to bang on the doors until they slid open. Passengers and bystanders gawked and complained when I flopped into the lift and jammed my thumb at the controls.

  “Hey, I was supposed to get out on—”

  “Sorry! It’s an emergency!”

  “Then call for security, stupid gypsy.”

  My fists formed, and I glared at the man, but the door opened to my destination floor, and I bolted out instead.

  By the time I’d dragged a bewildered Sid Lew back to our quarters, we were both out of breath. We entered the main room, and I collapsed to my knees with a scream. Blood soaked the blankets, the floor, and Dag’s coversuit. It took me a moment before I saw the tiny wriggling baby in his arms.

  “Brita, take him. Go wash him up and give him a couple of drops of the pearl serum. I need to close up Jana’s body.”

  OOO

  “I’ll never forget this, Dag.” Sid Lew sat stained, disheveled and beaming with relief. Little Ryon had tried to come breach, and Dag had performed an emergency C-section almost completely unaided, yet both mother and baby were going to be fine. “I’ve never seen anything—not that I’ve watched emergency surgeries performed in living quarters before, but …”

  Dag smiled and peeled off his coversuit to the waist. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go wash up.”

  “Of course.” Sid watched him leave and turned his gaze to the sleeping Jana who now lay swaddled in one of my gypsy blouses. His voice clouded with emotion. “You two saved her life. And his,” he added, holding Ryon closer.

  “Dag did all the work. I just handed him things.”

  “And the gypsy remedies.”

  I nodded, unsure of how he’d respond.

  “They helped, didn’t they?”

  I nodded again, more confident this time. “Dag found out how to use them to boost the body’s natural systems. We’ve used these cures for decades, but he has found ways to improve upon the blends.”

  “He’s a brilliant man.”

  My eyes filled with tears. “He’s the very best of men.”

  Sid
rose and spoke through the door to the washroom. “I’ll order a special cleaning of your quarters, Dag. We’ll get all the stains up and the furniture replaced. It’s the least I can do.”

  “No rush,” called Dag.

  “What do you mean? You can’t live with all this blood everywhere. We’ll put you up in one of the guest suites until it’s done.”

  The door opened and Dag emerged, his face showing weariness for the first time. “Do what you want with the room. We’ll be taking the first available transport to Caren.”

  I stiffened. “But we’re not close enough for a quick drop.”

  Dag sighed. “I think, my sweet Brita, we will not be taking a quick drop. I’d planned to talk to you about the idea soon. I only stayed on the Arxon this long to see Jana’s baby to light, and now that he came early…”

  “Dag, you’re not serious!” Sid Lew’s face shone even paler than usual.

  “It isn’t fair for Brita,” he said, casting me a sad smile. “And too many people here feel threatened by my methods.”

  “But your methods saved my family’s life!”

  “You’re welcome to testify on my behalf, Sid, but we’re going to go spend at least a rotation on the Surface. Perhaps, if I can find a place, I could practice medicine there and not have so many suspect me of traitorous crimes against health.”

  The bitterness in his tone hurt my soul even as my heart rejoiced at the idea of returning to the Surface. “Dag, do you mean it? Not a quick drop?”

  “I want to find out where we belong, and right now, that doesn’t seem to be here.”

  29 ~ Faneps

  We chose the Jammu Colony where several members of my extended family had temporarily settled for a time. It was far away from disturbances mentioned in the news, and we hoped to find a measure of peace before making further decisions about our future.

  But if Dag didn’t belong on the Arxon because he was married to a half gypsy, I wasn’t sure he belonged on Caren’s surface, either. At least not living as a gypsy. He struggled with the standards of hygiene that came with camping. Bathing in streams and waterfalls, no matter how pristine, could never match hot showers of recycled, purified water on a city-station. Food prepared over a fire, no matter how carefully cooked, worried him. He’d lived on dehydrated and processed foods so much of his life, trusting vitamin supplements to make up the difference between the synthetic food and whole, natural nutrients.