Penumbra

by Dan Ackerman

  Holly pushed the tiles into a pile in the center of the table. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Might as well.”

  “You said you were made in a lab. What does that mean?”

  “Oh. Uh. Well.” He decided not to delve into the extent to which his mother had used designer genetics and explained instead, “My mother was older when she decided to have kids. A lot older. She found a sperm donor and a surrogate, and you know…” He waved his hand.

  Holly shook her head. “No. I don’t.”

  “She’d had some of her eggs preserved when she was younger. She’d never been interested in dating or families or anything like that. But, uh, you know, someone had to be Autarch after her so she picked a man to donate his half and she found another woman to carry the baby…to carry me once the doctors had put her half and his half together.” Arden smiled. He wondered if Mother had been excited to have him. He didn’t know how lonely his childhood would have been without Mama. “It worked out that she fell for her surrogate.”

  “She fell for her?”

  “You know, they fell in love,” Arden clarified.

  “So, your mother. She was the queen before you were king. And she had a woman?”

  Arden pointed out, “You aren’t unfamiliar with the concept of two women getting together.”

  Holly said, “No one in our tribe has paired up in a long time. All the pairs I can remember were never like that. Or you two.”

  “We’d have a hard time making that next generation you all want so much,” Oggie pointed out. He had his chin tilted up and a smug little smile on his lips. “You’re going to have a great time on Eden.”

  Holly flushed.

  Arden chided, “Og, be nice.”

  “I am being nice!”

  “Be civil, how about that?”

  “Utterly impossible, I was raised by dust bunnies, screens, and wandering visitors. You’re lucky I even know how to use a fork.”

  Holly looked horrified.

  Oggie casually waved his hand. “Listen, it doesn’t sound as bad after a few drinks.”

  Arden held his tongue. What he wanted to say didn’t need an audience.

  He drafted a few people into rehydrating food, struggled to figure out how to recline the seats into a more comfortable sleeping position, and checked the control panel six or seven times before bed.

  Not that he’d wanted anything bad to happen to himself or Oggie, but the stakes had skyrocketed.

  Holly kept him company when Oggie slept, then slept on the couch when Oggie took his turn to watch the control panel.

  About thirty minutes after Arden laid down, someone crept past him up toward the cockpit. He remained perfectly still until he heard a woman greet Oggie.

  He nearly went back to the cockpit.

  “Where’s your little friend?” she asked.

  Arden sat up.

  Oggie answered, “Sleeping. You didn’t see him on your way in?”

  “Guess not,” she said. “You didn’t want to get in bed with him?”

  “Someone’s got to keep an eye on things.”

  She purred, “I can think of a few things for you to keep an eye on.”

  Oggie sighed loud enough that Arden could hear it from beside the bed. He’d climbed out and started toward the door. “Can I be really upfront with you, Tyl?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve spent almost half of my life fucking people I don’t really want to fuck. Or trying to impress people I did want to fuck by doing whatever they wanted. I mean, it was fun, I guess, when I got off, but I’m trying really hard not to ruin this.”

  “Ruin what?”

  Arden retreated to the bed, ducking out of Oggie’s line of sight just in time.

  “I don’t think you can understand. I don’t think you have any frame of reference for who he is and what I am and how fucking impossible what I want is.”

  Tyl said, “Well, you’re gorgeous and he’s…I mean. I guess he’s king, right? That must count for something.”

  Oggie groaned. Arden imagined him slumped in his seat. “I’m trying to tell you I’m not interested.”

  “Oh.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Could have said something sooner,” she grumbled.

  “You’re about to meet more guys than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ll get over it,” he assured dismissively.

  She stomped back through the cockpit.

  Oggie groaned again.

  Holly stirred on the couch. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. She yawned, then went still again.

  Arden wondered if he should check on him. He wondered about it for too long and fell asleep.

  He woke to the sensation of a hand on his arm and Oggie softly saying, “Shug, it’s time to get up.”

  “Hmm?”

  “We’ll be home in a few hours.”

  “Ten more minutes.”

  “How could I say no to that?” Oggie asked. He took a seat on the bed.

  Arden rested his head on his lap. “I’m not ready.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “I know.” Oggie smoothed his fingers through Arden’s hair.

  “I mean. I certainly didn’t want to stay on Terra.”

  “I understand.”

  The enormity of what lay before him terrified him. He’d done the unthinkable, something wildly reckless not once but twice in hardly any time at all. They’d spent a month or so on Terra and he’d only received three updates from Rhys.

  He couldn’t guess the true state of Eden.

  The idea that he should not have trusted Rhys hovered on the edge of his fears. He’d always made his loyalties clear. Maybe he wouldn’t return power as easily as Arden had given it.

  Maybe they’d killed all the peers.

  Fuck.

  “I really understand,” Oggie said.

  Arden rolled onto his back and gazed up at Oggie. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

  “I wouldn’t know the right thing if it crawled down my throat and lived in my small intestine.”

  Arden took a moment to process that. “That’s not true.”

  “You have no idea who I am, Arden. Not a single clue.”

  “That’s not true, either.” They hadn’t known each other for years and he still had things to learn, of course, but he felt safe saying, “I see you, Ogden Nielsen.”

  “About as well as Holly saw those jumble tiles.”

  “You know we never really see ourselves, right? You can’t physically. Mirrors and photos aren’t the same.”

  Oggie rolled his eyes.

  “You’re hiding things, I’m not saying you aren’t. Everyone does that. Unless you have some deep ulterior motives, though, I think I get it.”

  “What are you hiding?”

  “Incompetence, shame, insecurity, gallons of anxiety…” Arden tried to think of something else.

  “Oh, they make it in gallons now?”

  Arden remained on his back for more than the ten minutes he’d originally requested. The idea of facing anyone on Eden immobilized him.

  Oggie didn’t push him. He made a few gentle suggestions for the better part of an hour. Finally, he said, “If you don’t get up soon, sugar, we’re going to fly right into Eden.”

  Briefly, he thought of letting it happen.

  Briefly.

  Suicide was one thing. He had no intention of becoming a mass murderer.

  He dragged himself out of bed and pulled on the first clothes he found. No time for a shower, he’d dallied too long.

  His heart in his throat, he directed the shuttle through the open door of the bay. The entire time he worried the shuttle wouldn’t fit through the door. He knew it would, he’d flown the thing out, but the question of what if wouldn’t stop circling his mind.

  Oggie barely made a sound.

  A din of voices rolled forward from the passenger area. They had windows, they could
see Eden and their reactions created a mélange of wonder and terror.

  He wanted to cover his ears.

  The shuttle landed less softly than he’d hoped. His teeth clacked together with the force of it. He’d probably done it wrong because there was no way someone had designed it to land like that.

  A green light blinked on the console. An incoming transmission.

  He touched the button to open the channel. “Hi.”

  Rhys said, “Don’t open the shuttle doors.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’re sending in a medical team, then sealing the bay until we know for sure what you brought back.”

  Past the tightness in his throat, Arden said, “I brought back people.”

  A rush of familiar voices came over the channel all at once.

  “Arden!” Cole shouted, louder than the rest, preceded by the sound of a shuffle. “Arden, fuck, are you okay?”

  “I’m…Yeah. I’m fine. I am. How’s Eden?”

  Cole began, “Eden is…”

  Six or seven different voices provided an answer.

  “Adjusting.”

  “Getting used to things.”

  “A little tense.”

  “In shambles,” said one voice, one Arden recognized as a Council member who usually opposed his plans.

  Another shuffle, more forceful this time.

  “Is, uh,” Cole began, “You’re really alright, Ardi?”

  “Of course, I am.”

  “And…Nielsen? He’s with you?”

  “Where else would he be?”

  “Ah,” Cole sounded disappointed.

  Arden glanced at Oggie. “Uh. Anyway. How long are we holding for?”

  “The team will be in soon,” Rhys assured.

  “How are you!” Arden remembered to ask, too late as usual.

  “Me personally?” Rhys asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m fine, Your Eminence.”

  Arden didn’t like that answer. He asked, “How’s Darcy?”

  “Darcy is well.”

  “Good, good. She learn any new words while I was gone?”

  “Shoes. Except she says it ‘shus’ and it melts my heart every time.”

  Arden smiled. “Did she stop saying ‘fuck’ yet?”

  “No.”

  Arden grinned. He shouldn’t have. Accidentally teaching a child to swear added nothing to his reign as Autarch or his personal achievements. It did make him giggle every time she said it. He liked that she paid enough attention to him that his vocabulary had made it into her babble.

  He had to ask, “Gertie still mad about it?”

  “Pissed,” Rhys confirmed, then added, “Your Eminence.”

  He smiled even wider.

  “The team is in and the bay is sealed. You can open the doors.”

  “Did you get my last message? About setting up a few decks in the Quarters?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll resend it! Takes forever to get anything from here to Terra…” He grabbed his tablet and resent his last set of requests.

  Then he opened the doors.

  Eight people in breathing masks, scrubs, and gloves stood just outside the shuttle.

  A ninth stepped forward. “Your Eminence, my name is Margaret Steyer.”

  “Oh. Hi, Maggie. I didn’t know you were a doctor.”

  “It’s been six years.”

  He gave a sheepish smile. “I am terribly self-absorbed…”

  “Oh, no one would ever say that to your face, Your Eminence,” she joked.

  Arden ignored her.

  Behind the medical team, a short, chubby little man hurried his way toward the shuttle. He wore not protective gear but a lush purple smoking jacket and navy trousers. The tassels on his loafers swung as he hustled.

  “Winnie!” His heart clenched. “Winnie, what are you doing?” He climbed down the shuttle steps, past the team, and said, “You shouldn’t be in here.”

  Winslow hugged him hard enough to knock the air out of him. “Oh, you’re such an awful boy, Arden, making me worry like that, all these things…! Everything you did and you just go. You’re such a horrid child sometimes.”

  Arden hugged him back. “Winnie, it wasn’t that bad.”

  His uncle stepped back. “Not that bad!”

  “Don’t yell at me, I can’t come back to you yelling at me,” Arden pouted.

  “You are spoiled—”

  Arden hugged him again. “Winnie, don’t, don’t yell at me. I can’t stand it!”

  Winslow sighed. “Stealing a shuttle—”

  “You can’t steal something if you own it,” Arden reminded. He took his uncle’s hand and pulled him along. “Come meet my friend.”

  Winslow narrowed his eyes. “What friend?”

  “His name’s Oggie.”

  “The Nielsen boy. I know all about you and him.”

  Arden nodded. “It’s not the way the news says it is between us, it was just…it was a setup. Honestly. Look at me, do I look like an addict that went through withdrawal on a planet with no medical facilities?”

  Winslow looked him over.

  “No,” Arden answered for him. “I look like I went on vacation. Look, I have a tan. When has anyone from Eden ever had a real tan?”

  Sadness flitted over Winslow’s face. “We were neighbors when he was just a little thing…Arden, that boy—”

  “Don’t tell me he’s spare parts or a bad influence, I get that enough from everyone else.”

  Winslow stopped walking. “Nothing that’s happened to him has ever been right. His life has been full of ugly things. Don’t be another one.”

  Arden swallowed. His only family, his only real family in the entire world, and that’s what Winslow thought of him?

  Oggie stood in the door of the shuttle. He watched the medical team as well as Arden and his uncle. His face stayed smooth, unreadable, his eyes most of all.

  Arden had never met anyone with eyes like his. Dead, hollow eyes that looked like someone had plucked them off a doll.

  Instead of saying anything meaningful, Arden resumed his walk back to the shuttle and said, “That’s a little rude, Winnie, I don’t think I’m that unattractive. I suppose I could lose a few pounds though. I have let myself go…” He paused in front of the medical team. “Maggie, do you want them to come out to you or do you want to go to them?”

  “Can you send them out a few at a time, Your Eminence?” she requested.

  He nodded. He climbed back into the cockpit. “Og, why don’t you go get checked out? I’m sure you’re dying to get out of here.”

  “I’ll wait with you.”

  Winnie puffed his way up the stairs. “Arden, I wasn’t done with you!”

  “Winnie, I’ve got work to do! You can scold me later.” He made his way back to the passengers and gave them a rundown of what would happen next.

  It took longer than anticipated since he had to explain everything from doctors to vaccines, including the purpose of drawing blood and letting strangers take urine samples.

  He did his best to assure them, then finally decided he’d go first to put them more at ease.

  The Terrans watched as he got a full medical workup. He’d gone to the doctor a lot and the process had acquired a soothing familiarity.

  Oggie went second. He flinched so much Arden wondered if he’d even gone to the doctor before.

  Those in the Quarters didn’t go often, but surely his mother had taken him for checkups as a child.

  The Terrans finally agreed, though not without suspicion and bellyaching.

  Arden examined the makeshift lab they’d set up in the bay.

  Good thing he hadn’t driven the shuttle into it.

  A few workers hovered uncomfortably in a small, portable kitchen.

  He hadn’t considered how long this quarantine could last.

  They’d probably have to sleep on the shuttle.

  He stopped caring about sleeping on the shuttle when he got his
first bite of real food in a month. Not rehydrated, not scavenged from the wastes of Terra, but an honest bite of warm, rich mushroom barley soup, thick with vegetables.

  The Terrans devoured what the cooks provided.

  Winslow remained quiet. Not a thoughtful kind of quiet, either. He was brooding, still mad at Arden.

  Every so often, Winslow eyed Oggie, too.

  Oggie looked away each time. He looked away any time someone from Eden looked at him. Oh, he made it seem like everyone else bored him, like he thought no one could come close to holding his interest.

  Arden saw through it. Or he saw what he wanted. He’d never know.

  Arden took Winslow’s bowl when he’d emptied it and reached his hand out for Oggie’s.

  Oggie rolled his eyes and handed it over like it was the most pedestrian come-on he’d ever endured.

  Arden collected as many bowls as he could carry. He deposited them in the vat of soapy water awaiting their arrival.

  The worker standing in front of it did not look at him.

  Arden thought he looked familiar. “Do I know you?”

  The man gave him a sour look. “Kile.”

  “Oh. Rhys’s friend. Right?”

  “No one else was stupid enough to come into a bay full of people that might be contaminated with a bunch of unknown diseases.”

  “Oh.”

  Kile shook his head. “He talks you into things. But you knew that.”

  “He’s certainly persuasive.” Arden stared into the water. “Uh. How are things out there?”

  “Peers aren’t happy.”

  “And the workers?”

  Kile hesitated. “Overwhelmed.”

  Arden appreciated that. “We’ll get there.”

  “No offense, Your Eminence, but I don’t really need platitudes.”

  Arden sucked in a breath. He didn’t know what to say. He made an awkward gesture. “Well. You know. I’m not good at those either…”

  He walked away to get more bowls.

  He didn’t stop moving until he’d gathered every last bowl.

  As long as he kept moving, he felt okay. Whenever he paused to talk with someone, he grew uncomfortable.

  He felt every set of eyes in the room. Every time someone spoke, he thought he caught his name on their lips.

  Looking at him, laughing at him, waiting for him to fuck up.