Terradox Quadrilogy

by Craig A. Falconer

  Holly took several seconds to process this. “You want to buy Terradox?” she eventually asked. “From who? The TMC board is elected by national governments.”

  “National governments who will be happy to get this problem off their hands and delighted for it to be taken by a company with an exemplary record of space station management,” Rusev said. “Even without your involvement I would be fully confident of the bid succeeding, unless you were actively working against us on the side of the current TMC board’s rebrand plan.”

  “And I would be in charge?”

  “Of the day-to-day management of Terradox, yes.”

  “And I’d have input on the bigger picture,” Holly insisted. “I’d have a big say in what kind of science we do here. No offensive weapons testing, for a start.”

  “Don’t worry; a permanent block on all such testing is already a central component of our bid proposal. And as for input on the bigger picture… a corporate restructuring at Rusentra will create a new Terradox division with you as chief executive, giving you a seat on Rusentra’s board.”

  This offer of a seat on the board was a huge sign that Rusev was serious about supporting the new Terradox division and also about Holly being in charge of its operations. The answer was yes — absolutely yes — but there was no need to be too quick in delivering it.

  “There also has to be an ironclad constitution laying out what kind of things can never be done here,” Holly said, laying out her final demands. “It has to include a mission statement that our primary driver will be progress, not profit; just like on the Venus station. The allocation of resources and space to resident scientists from Earth will be above political considerations and we will always give fair residency opportunities to Earth-based scientists who propose work which is deemed worthy by a panel of non-management scientists on the station.”

  “That all sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Rusev said, extending a hand. “Welcome aboard.”

  Holly hesitated. “Shouldn’t we wait until you make an offer and they accept it?”

  Rusev withdrew her hand. “Thinking like an executive already,” she said, smiling and patting Holly on the back. “You’ll do well here, Holly. You’ll do me proud.”

  seventy

  With thirty minutes left until noon, everyone other than Robert was back in the Karrier. He remained in the bunker, insistent on keeping watch.

  Grav and Sakura were already back when Holly and Peter returned from cleaning up the area around Yury’s Memorial Garden, a euphemism for moving the bodies; there were Remy and John, of course, but also the dozens of guards who had been left under the artificial sun for four days.

  Neither made a fuss or even wanted to loop the others in on what they had been doing, but Holly was sure they must have known. Grav did, anyway, as was clear from his repeated and rueful apologies for being physically unable to not only help in the gruesome task but to take care of it on his own.

  Holly took care of John while Peter took care of Remy, saving her from what would have been the hardest part. Robert Harrington, insistent that someone should stay in the bunker at all times to prevent unforeseen intrusions, assisted Holly in lifting John up the stairs. Holly knew this wasn’t easy for Robert, even less used to such things than she was, and she appreciated his assistance.

  Peter and Holly then worked together to gently lift the loyal TMC guards into the passenger section of the TE-500 touring vehicle before flying it the short distance back to the Karrier and covering the entire vehicle with a large grey tarp-like sheet. Each victim of Boyce’s maniacal scheme would receive a fitting funeral and burial on Earth, and Peter agreed with Holly that they would take the TE-500 to New Eden after calling ahead to alert the recently liberated Terra Docs staff in the medical centre that a large number of corpses would be arriving in around two hours and would require respectful preservation until a Ferrier arrived to take them home.

  Peter Ospanov impressed Holly throughout this unpleasant task, displaying the same quiet strength he had shown during the whole trying week — all the way from the Venus station to Netherdox and ultimately Terradox. At every turn he had done whatever was asked of him well and without complaint, playing as much of a role as anyone by taking down Boyce’s accomplices and directly supporting Holly’s final takedown of the man himself.

  Above all else, Holly saw Peter as worthy of Viola, which was just about the highest esteem she could offer.

  An odd atmosphere filled the Karrier in the minutes before the group headed out towards the bunker and the Memorial Garden which lay beside it. No one felt much like celebrating and certainly not like marking the anniversary of the Terradox Resort’s grand opening, but everyone wanted to extend Yury the respect he deserved.

  The others had spent most of their morning watching news broadcasts from Earth, the most recent of which had included the breaking news that Rusentra had acquired the TMC’s assets and that the management of Terradox was to be transferred to a newly created and self-contained division with Ivy ‘Holly’ Wood as its CEO. The speed of the deal stunned her and only served to emphasise how desperate the shamed members of the TMC’s board truly were to get themselves out of the firing line.

  On-the-street interviews with various citizens played out exactly as Rusev had predicted: all were glad that the TMC would no longer administer Terradox and most were glad that Rusentra would take over. Even those who had doubts about the risk/reward trade-off inherent in maintaining such a large romosphere admitted that Holly’s involvement soothed their fears somewhat.

  As someone who had never courted the fame which came her way in early life and who had found perceived greatness thrust upon her by others following the Terradox-based exploits of recent years, Holly always felt somewhat uncomfortable when coverage like this reminded her of just how much weight her name carried on Earth.

  Viola was initially sad that Holly’s work would mean that she would live on Terradox rather than the station as she had hoped might be the case, even though Holly had never vocalised her persistent desire to live on the station. Rusev cheered Viola up by saying that there would be a lot of planning before Holly or anyone else moved to Terradox permanently — “at least a year, and probably more” — and Holly took that opportunity to confirm that she would remain on the station for that period.

  “There’s so much on the station that you haven’t seen,” Viola said, her smile turning into a wide-eyed beam as she remembered something in particular. “The dogs! You didn’t get a chance to see them, did you? Remember the puppies that a family brought on one of your chaperoning trips to the station when the GU had banned pets on Earth? All four are still there… not puppies anymore, but they’re still cute. One of them lives in the childcare centre.”

  Holly smiled, more in reaction to Viola’s giddy excitement than to the news of the dogs themselves.

  Dimitar, who Ekaterina Rusev had looped in shortly after offering the new Terradox division’s leadership position to Holly, also appeared genuinely glad to have her on board. “There’s no one I’d rather have on my team,” he said, shaking her hand, and Holly could tell that he meant it.

  Sakura was perhaps the most excited, positively glowing at the research opportunities that such an enormous controlled environment would provide. Peter Ospanov was pleased for Holly but fairly indifferent about the scientific considerations.

  Bo Harrington, perhaps unsurprisingly, focused first on a new angle. “People are going to say this was a setup, you know,” he said, talking to Rusev but happy enough for the whole group to hear. “People are going to say that you set this whole thing up so you could throw the TMC into disarray then swoop in to buy Terradox at a crisis price.”

  “Let them say it,” Holly said. “People believe all kinds of crazy stuff.”

  Bo shrugged. “I know. I’m not saying it’s something to worry about, I just think it’s an accusation we should be prepared for. Anyway, what I want to know on the science side is whether we’ll be all
owed to test and use new romotech here? The argument for the moratorium on Earth is that it’s not safe because of all the people it could kill if something goes wrong, but all the way out here we’re pretty much—”

  “No new romotech,” Holly interrupted. “There’s a reason new romotech creations and adaptions are banned, and we saw that reason on Netherdox. From now on, Terradox itself… this romosphere and its existing features… that’s the only romotech that’s going to be involved in anything we do. We’re going to treat this romosphere like what it is: the best possible site for developing new non-romotech technologies and doing all kinds of observational science.”

  Bo accepted the answer. “What are you laughing at?” he then asked, turning to Grav.

  “You want to play with fucking romotech!” Grav blurted out between deep laughs. “After everything we have seen, here and on Netherdox, you still want to play with it! Never change, junior. Never change.”

  On the way to her destination, Holly couldn’t help but look around and imagine the new building developments which would soon house scientists and their families.

  While Terradox wasn’t strictly a planet, the prospect of benevolent human colonisers settling a barren landscape and building a new society stirred memories of the countless science fiction stories she’d fallen asleep reading as a child. Whatever its past, Terradox had a positive role to play in humanity’s future and Holly was humbled to be a part of it.

  The short journey passed in no time with the group divided across both VUVs. Holly drove with Grav in the passenger seat and Peter and Viola behind. Robert, conservative as ever, had remained in the bunker all morning in case… well, he didn’t quite know what he was guarding against, but he had been insistent on guarding against it nonetheless and remained inside until the others arrived for the nearby ceremony.

  Before she knew it, Holly was standing by a red ribbon at the entrance to the Yury Gardev Memorial Garden with eight friendly faces looking at her from a few metres away. Ekaterina Rusev tightly held the urn containing Yury’s ashes, which were to be scattered at the entrance.

  “The last thing Spaceman would have wanted was a long speech,” Holly said, drawing nods from those who had known him best, “but there’s not a lot he can do to stop me.”

  Grav’s smile turned into an open-mouthed beam as he let out a roaring belly laugh and clapped his hands.

  Holly had borrowed that line from a eulogy her father once delivered, and she was glad to see it go down just as well among her audience as his had back then.

  “But seriously,” she went on, “given how humble he always was, he would have been glad there are no cameras here today. By now he’d probably be telling me to shut up and cut the ribbon so everyone could go into the garden and look around, so I guess that’s what I’ll do.”

  Holly turned towards the ribbon and cut it at the centre, sending its two halves twisting and dancing towards the ground.

  “I hereby declare the Yury Gardev Memorial Garden open for visitors.”

  Most of the group applauded and stepped forward in turn. Ekaterina Rusev, wearing a brave expression, crouched to the ground and opened the urn to scatter Yury’s ashes in the light breeze.

  The group then split in two directions around the main circular path, with Holly walking slowly behind the Harringtons while Peter helped Grav in the other direction.

  The garden was immaculately landscaped and just as immaculately designed, to Holly’s admittedly untrained eye, and she particularly liked the short colourful flowers around the main centrepieces. Small information cards displayed the names of the flowers in several languages, and Holly was touched to see that she was looking at a brilliant patch of violas in front of a thick berry-covered holly bush. Rusev had been extensively involved in the garden’s planning, and Holly knew that this layout couldn’t be a coincidence.

  For the next few minutes, wherever Holly looked she saw plants with space-related names, from various kinds of cosmos and asters to Stargazer lilies and a long row of Jupiter’s beard. An enormous and intimidating Venus fly trap was one particular highlight. All of these plants and the countless others were in beds of GrowLo, the same kind of artificial soil which also enabled decorative and agricultural cultivation within the closed environment of the Venus station.

  At quarter past the hour, Holly joined most of the others beside the functioning floral clock in the garden’s centre and smiled with the rest of them as a mechanical cuckoo popped its head out of a wooden house and chimed melodically.

  After one full loop of the main pathway, Holly found Viola sitting alone on a wooden bench. “You okay?” she asked.

  Smiling, Viola tapped her nose.

  Holly sniffed the air and quickly mirrored the smile. “Lavender?”

  Viola pointed behind her bench. “Real lavender.”

  Holly sat down and stayed there while others walked past in both directions. Viola stayed too, more than happy to sit in peaceful silence just taking in their serene surroundings.

  Grav and Peter eventually appeared, with Grav hobbling along while paying keen attention to every detail of the floral arrangements. He sat down between Viola and Holly, though Viola quickly stood up to give Grav some more space and to walk the rest of the path with Peter.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Holly said, turning to Grav. “When this place is up and running as a research station, I’m going to need a reliable head of security.”

  “And you want my advice? You cannot have Peter, that much is for sure. I have been shaping him as my successor for years.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Peter. I want you.”

  Viola, returning to collect a jacket she had accidentally left on the bench, came into earshot just in time to hear Holly’s last sentence.

  “Don’t mind me, I didn’t hear anything,” she said, grinning like a schoolgirl.

  “Oh, grow up,” Grav sighed with a smile of his own.

  “That’s not what we were talking about,” Holly insisted.

  Viola held her hands up as she walked away. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it.”

  “Rusev thinks it’ll take at least a year for anything to get moving on this,” Holly said to Grav, trying to continue as if Viola’s childish interruption hadn’t happened. “You would have plenty of time to get everything in place for Peter and the rest of your staff to take over your day-to-day responsibilities. And you’d still be working for Rusentra, with daily contact for consulting on anything that the station’s security staff need help with. Will you at least think about it?”

  “And I would have to live here? Here, Hollywood? Live here?”

  “At least wait until you see what proposals we come up with, okay? This place will be unrecognisable. It’s a blank canvas.”

  Grav’s expression softened at that, as though he was considering the possibility of at least considering the possibility. “I will take a look at what you come up with,” he said.

  “Come on, lovebirds,” Viola’s voice yelled from the entrance. “Everyone is starting to leave and it’ll take you ages to get here.”

  Grav pushed himself to his feet and insisted on hobbling unsupported. “Tell me, Hollywood, why does Viola seem to think that we…”

  “She doesn’t. But if you let her know that it annoys you, she’ll keep saying it.”

  Next to the plaque at the Garden’s entrance, which they reached relatively quickly once Grav reluctantly conceded that he couldn’t walk unsupported without risking a lasting injury, Holly stopped and looked back in through the archway. She liked to think that Yury, who had once risked his life to save everyone else’s and ended up saving Terradox at the same time, would be looking down approvingly.

  “However long it takes, I’m going to turn this place into something great,” she said out loud. “I’m going to build a community he would’ve been proud of. We’re going to build something he would’ve been proud of.”

  Grav saluted Yury’s plaque and turned away.

&n
bsp; Peter and Viola were already waiting in their rover and the other was already on its way back to the Karrier. Holly saw Dimitar walking up ahead and briefly wondered why before she remembered that there were nine of them and that each rover could only comfortably accommodate four.

  “I could get used to you driving me everywhere,” Grav joked as he hobbled to the passenger side of the rover. “To Netherdox, to Terradox, on Terradox… hell, maybe when we get back to the station you can drive me around there, too?”

  “When I make Rusev force you to take the job as head of Terradox security, I’ll be your boss,” Holly replied. “I’d bear that in mind if I were you.”

  “Well right now you are my driver, Hollywood, and I do not see much driving.”

  “Oh my God, just get inside and drive!” Viola yelled, half-joking but half-bored in the back seat.

  Grav lifted his bad leg into the rover after sitting down, then closed his door. He turned to Peter. “What is her problem?” he asked.

  “I don’t have a problem,” Viola said. “Even if this thing with you two is real, I don’t have any problem with it. Just as long as you don’t think you’re getting married before us, because I’ve been plan—”

  Three stunned faces all suddenly turning to stare at Viola was enough to cut her off.

  “Holly, drive,” Peter pleaded. “Quick, before she says anything else.”

  Viola playfully hit him in the arm. “Shut up.”

  “Say, Hollywood, there is something I have been meaning to ask you,” Grav said. He leaned forward, tilting his head upwards to look into Holly’s eyes. “Will you… hurry up and start the damn rover?”

  “Very funny,” Viola said.

  Holly grinned. “Do you, Goran Vuletic, want me, Ivy Wood, to push this pedal and drive us back to the Karrier?”

  “Oh, I do,” Grav said, his matrimonial tone making Peter roar with laughter in the back seat.

  “I just want everyone in this rover to know that I hate you all equally,” Viola said.