Yvonne reached her hand out to brush the stalks of wheat as they walked. “You’ll have to stop calling him a kid. When I hit sixty, in two months, I’ll be able to call all of you kids.”
“And you’ll have earned that right.”
By the time they had reached the back porch of the modern revival style farmhouse, Matthew’s mother, Elizabeth, was already trading hugs with the rest of the crew. Grace’s seemed longer than the rest. “Save some for me, please,” he said.
Elizabeth made a beeline for him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m glad you’re home,” she whispered. “After everything I heard about Ceres...”
“I’m sorry that we couldn’t come right home. Ceres was a wild ride. We’ve been running ever since.”
She pulled back and gave him a look. “I know. That’s what the news is telling me. Again. But we don’t have to talk about it right now. I’d rather not actually. How is everyone? I know there are a thousand stories to tell.”
“There always are,” Abigail agreed. “We ended a nearly century-old dictatorship while trying to rob a zoo. That was a fun one.”
Elizabeth brushed a wispy strand of hair behind her ear. “I read about Metis. The article didn’t mention the crew or ship by name, but I had a feeling it was you.”
“It was sort of an accident,” Davey said. “Abigail and Matthew got caught, so Yvonne and I had to fly to the rescue. You should have seen the maneuver Yvonne pulled.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Most women my age are praying for visits from grandchildren. I gave up on that dream when Matthew became a priest, but you all are the next best thing.” Matthew’s heart twisted in his chest. The crew was his family and his job took him far from here. But he was glad that his mother had forgiven him for his dangerous lifestyle enough to have accepted them into her life too.
“We’ll be around for a few weeks,” he said. “In and out on business.”
She opened the back screen door. “Good. Am I cooking for the whole crew tonight?”
“That’s up to you. We have to head into town for the afternoon, but we should be back by the evening.”
Abigail frowned. “Are you sure there’s time? Kyoto had us running circles until late in the evening.”
“We know people here,” Matthew said. “They might not be happy to see us, but that’s not ever slowed us down before.”
“Oh... Him.”
Matthew nodded. Elizabeth pointed at him. “Dinner is at seven. You’ll be more disappointed than I will be if you’re late.” She looked around at the other crew members and then stage whispered to him. “I have enough real bacon for everyone to have three rashers.” There was a hearty cheer all around. It was a silly and expensive treat, but Matthew could almost forgive her for splurging on his crew. After all, she wasn’t likely to get those grandchildren at this point.
GRACE YAWNED AS THE magnetic train glided down the tracks into Flagstaff. They’d taken public transportation to avoid rush hour traffic on the way back, but with how many stops the line had, she wasn’t sure this was any faster.
“No yawning, Abigail said. “Those things are contagious.” She stood in the aisle, a hand on the overhead racks.
“Can’t help it,” Grace muttered. “It confuses my brain when we land, it’s one time in one colony, get up and leave to the next and it’s another time entirely. What do you call that?”
“Jet lag is what I’ve always heard.”
She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Abigail paused for a moment. “I’m not actually sure. Matthew?”
“Archaic idiom,” he said without looking up from his tablet. “They used to use jet-engined aircraft on Earth for air travel. Kind of like skyhoppers.”
“What are you so engrossed in?” Yvonne asked from beside him.
“Local newspaper. Trying to get a feel for how Arizona is reacting to the Gilgamesh attack.”
It was hard for Grace to imagine the scale of disaster that damage to those factories meant. Humanity might have lost a decade or two. With the way things were going, that didn’t really seem like much of a change. But the hushed conversations she’d seen between the adults and the looks on their faces were enough to give her a thrill of fear. Maybe she didn’t understand things as well as she thought she did. How could the whole species hang by a thread like that?
Abigail broke her out of her thoughts. “So why did your brother stay home today?”
She looked out the window. “He likes it here. And I think he likes Ms. Elizabeth.” She lowered her voice and glanced toward Yvonne to make sure she wasn’t listening. “They had quite an adventure together the day that White Void attacked.”
“Well, it’s not like this will be a fun trip anyway. But I bet Elizabeth puts him to work.”
“He wouldn’t mind that.”
Abigail raised an eyebrow at her. Grace sighed. Abigail never really did give Davey enough credit. In her mind, he was still the angry kid with a gun that had snuck onboard over Titan. It bothered Grace, but what was she going to do about it. The train chimed and began to slow down. “This is our stop,” Matthew said, standing up. “Downtown.”
They piled off the train into the afternoon sun. Low skyscrapers, nothing like the glass and steel towers of Port Jacobson, lined the streets. The station was busy at the moment, but Abigail was easy to follow through the crowd as it parted for her. They followed her down the stairs to street level. Beside the busy street, there was an open plaza filled with food vendors and people.
“I smell tacos,” Grace said. She sniffed the air again. “And something with lots of herbs.”
“Forgotten about the bacon already?” Matthew asked.
“Never.” She didn’t mention that, as a kid growing up on the street, there was always room for a meal. Long ago, she and Davey had figured out that the adults got uncomfortable when their former lives were brought up. It was the past anyway, and there was no reason to linger on it. Either way, her mouth still watered at the wonderful smells and nothing was going to stop that.
They crossed the plaza to an open green park surrounded by fancy looking office buildings and a white-pillared building with a dome. “That’s the capitol building,” Matthew said. “Hopefully we’ll be visiting later, but we get to pay an old friend a visit first.” He turned toward the closest office building.
They were stopped by armed security out front. “I’m sorry, sir, due to recent terrorist activity in the colonies, visitors are not allowed into any state building in groups larger than two.” He glanced at Abigail nervously. “And I’ll have to get special clearance for her to enter the building.”
“Well, get started on that,” Matthew said. He glanced at Yvonne.
She nodded. “Grace and I will find a way to entertain ourselves or else head back to the ship.”
And just like that, Grace was relegated to second-class crew member again. Figures. Going with Matthew would have been a snooze-fest anyway. Still, she rolled her eyes and made a show of crossing her arms. Just so long as everyone else knew she wasn’t pleased with being automatically excluded. “Let’s go then,” she said.
She and Yvonne walked back toward the plaza by the train station. “You’re not as mad as you’re acting,” Yvonne said.
“Nah. This will be better anyway. I guess it’s still not a girl’s day because Abigail is stuck with Matthew, but I bet we can scrape up some fun before heading home. Here. One of those tourist maps.” She stepped past a group of people to get a better look at it.
Yvonne squinted her eyes as she read down the list of nearby attractions. “Museum of the First Martians. I’ve heard they have good exhibits there.”
“Already been.”
“Really? When was that?” Yvonne side-eyed her.
“A couple of years ago. The first time Davey and I came to Mars. It was actually the day that White Void attacked the farm.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “But I can see why you might want to forget that day.”
Yvonne stared at the map. “A lot has happened since then.”
Grace mentally kicked herself. There she’d gone and accidentally picked at a scab. Better make it up to Yvonne. “I wouldn’t mind going again. That is if you want to go.”
“We don’t need to waste money on a museum you’ve already visited.”
“It was free. Stop being depressing. Let’s go see the old rusted piles of junk. It’s only two blocks away.”
Yvonne looked at her feet and then smiled weakly. “Alright. Lead the way.”
Grace peered at the map again to make sure she had it down and then turned to follow the street that led away from the square. Yvonne sure was touchy these days. Say one wrong thing, and she was either angry for no good reason or turned into a moody loner. Grace had figured getting that bounty lifted would turn her into a new woman, but this wasn’t what she had been hoping for. Maybe it would have been more fun to go with Matthew and Abigail.
ARIZONA MINISTER OF Law Ryan Thompson sat at his office desk with a permanent scowl fixed to his face. As the chief law enforcement officer of the colony, life had been a pain since the Ceres Incident. Previously the only harm Abrogationists had managed to wreak on Arizona was two days of no comms when they took a satellite offline. Now creeping rumors of terrorists were more than a nuisance. They signaled an existential threat.
“Just peachy,” he mumbled as he picked up the expensive print newspaper his secretary had delivered an hour ago. The attack on the Gilgamesh factory last week had complicated everything. Editorialists now saw a terrorist behind every politician, even going so far as accusing the Barclay administration of having Abrogationist sympathizers. That made about as much sense as a colony without an environmental shield. Politicians and bureaucrats need a society to stay in power. Radicals that want to end civilization are a threat to that way of life. It was all nonsense. Normally the press had enough healthy cynicism of the political class, but lately, they’d forgotten that power-hungry monsters weren’t liable to destroy their own kingdoms. Politics and human abrogation didn’t mix. He threw the paper into the recycle bin in frustration.
But the public was afraid, so Ryan Thompson had to look for terrorists under every rock. Oh, they were out there. They’d arrested a couple a month ago that had been digging up water mains, damaging seals so that they leaked before reburying them. Because apparently, a little wasted water would bring about the twilight of civilization.
His intercom buzzed. “Mr. Thompson, you have a visitor.”
“I don’t remember any appointments this afternoon.”
“You have one more in an hour.”
“Right. Besides that one. Well, who’s here to see me?”
Sheila went silent. Ryan frowned and felt his perpetual headache reemerging with a vengeance. She finally continued. “You remember those visitors you had that one time that you said would never under any circumstances be allowed to see you again?”
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then why are you bothering me about this if you already know my answer? Call security and have them thrown out.”
“Sir, we both know how well that works with the Shield Maiden. They claim to have credible evidence of an Abrogationist threat, and I thought that—”
“Then stop wasting all of our time and send them in.” He walked to his window and opened the blinds. The afternoon sun peeked between the buildings, lighting up the capital park grounds. When the door opened behind him, he didn’t turn to greet them. He could at least deny them that dignity since they never bothered to schedule an appointment. “What do you want?”
“Good to see you, too,” Cole said.
“I told you he would be charming as ever,” Sharon added.
Ryan turned to face them, hands at ease behind his back. He had to keep some control over this situation and look like he was the one in charge. At least it was just the two of them this time “Forgive me for not rolling out the red carpet for meddlers and mercenaries.”
Sharon snorted. “That’s an ironic accusation considering you hired us the first time.”
“Which is what mercenaries are for. Then you proceeded to meddle. I’ll repeat my question. What do you want?”
Ryan noted the lines under Cole’s eyes and the weary expression. The last couple of years must have been hard on the freelancer. He crossed his arms. “We have a message for President Barclay. You’re going to get us in to see him.”
Not likely. “I was told you had a credible security threat. You can pass it on to me, and if it concerns the president, I’ll pass it on to him through normal briefings.”
Cole didn’t seem particularly upset by this declaration. “You know of Alexander Logan, I assume.”
“Don’t insult me. I’ve been putting his lackeys away for months.”
“And you know how he and I met during the Ceres Incident?”
“I seem to remember that you almost delivered a nuclear bomb into his hands.”
“We were one group of many that he deceived. We were also at Gilgamesh.”
That one gave Ryan a pause. The colony of Gilgamesh was keeping the details quiet for now, but there had been rumors of outside assistance. Apparently, Cole really knew how to be at the right place at the right time. Or else he was working with Logan. Doubtful considering Cole’s personality and beliefs, but it wasn’t something he was entirely willing to dismiss.
Cole continued. “We managed to contact Logan afterward. He timed the attack for us to be present and then asked us to pass on a message to President Barclay.”
“This is all pretty fishy sounding.”
“We have a record of the conversation and can present it as evidence.”
Conversations can be staged. Ryan looked at the pair of freelancers. Who was he kidding? Cole was as straight an arrow as they came, making the whole thing even stranger. And at that moment, Ryan realized he believed him. Or at least believed he had a message from Logan. He still had doubts about whether or not it had to be reported directly to the president. But Cole had been involved in the Ceres Incident and had been present for the Gilgamesh attack. Barclay would probably welcome the chance to meet Cole. He made a snap decision.
“Alright.”
Cole cocked his head and Abigail visibly started. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be cooperative.”
Ryan shrugged and returned to his desk. He hadn’t either, but this was an opportunity to get back into Barclay’s better graces after the Hawthorne Brother thing from a few years ago. Even better that Cole and Sharon should be involved. “If you end up wasting our time, you will regret it. I’m making a call. Keep your mouths shut for a minute, please.” They shuffled in annoyance, and Ryan smiled to himself. Standard protocol would be to get with the chief of staff, but he wasn’t in the mood for the delay and proper processes. He called President Barclay’s comm directly, hoping to get lucky.
Jackpot.
“Mr. President, I have a visitor in my office that you may want to see.”
DAVEY MOVED TO THE next garden row and, setting down both his buckets, knelt down in the rich brown dirt. Asparagus. Not his favorite vegetable, but he wasn’t going to turn down any fresh produce if it was offered. “Okay, what’s the procedure on asparagus?”
Elizabeth looked up from the tomatoes she’d been dealing with and joined him. “This will be the last time I harvest them this season. You’re looking for nice firm stalks just starting to purple at the tip but not yet opening like this one. It’s already gone to seed. Take your knife and cut the entire stalk about two centimeters beneath the soil, like this. Just don’t tug the roots out and you’ll be fine. Think you have it?”
He cut an asparagus stalk off as she instructed and laid it gently in his produce bucket. “I think so. Thanks.” She smiled and went back to her tomatoes. He glanced down the row. The asparagus should only take him a few minutes. Weeds seemed to be mostly under control too. Speaking of which, he grasped a s
tray offender by the top of the root and gently pulled it out of the soil, shaking the dirt off before throwing it in his second bucket.
This wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he’d decided to stay home this afternoon. No sooner had he settled into the rocking chair on the back porch for a nap than Elizabeth had thrown a pair of work gloves at him with a smirk, and that had settled things.
It was a good kind of work, though. Fun even. If Yvonne caught wind, she’d probably expect him to help tend the garden in the hold. Elizabeth’s massive garden beside the house put hers to shame.
“How did you learn all this?” he asked as he worked down the row.
“My husband, Albert, taught me a lot. Before we married, I’m not sure if I had ever touched a living plant.” She laughed softly. “A lot has changed since then.”
“Didn’t you think about going back to teaching?” he asked.
“Not even once. This farm is where my husband grew up. Where Matthew was born and raised. Where we made a life. Tilling the earth is a different kind of work and I’m not sure that I love it. But it is fulfilling and I wouldn’t trade it for a second chance at teaching literature to college students that couldn’t care one iota.” She paused. “Besides. Albert is buried here.”
There was nothing Davey could say to that, so he kept his mouth shut and went back to his asparagus. In just a few minutes, he had weeded and harvested the row. “Anything else?”
Elizabeth’s face appeared from behind one of the tomato plants she’d been putting into the ground. “That’ll be good. Thank you, Davey. I appreciate you helping me. I know you were thinking about a nap when I ambushed you.”
“There’s plenty of time to sleep when living on a ship,” he said. “Yvonne thinks there’s always work to be done, but she’s wrong.”
She gave him a look, but let it pass. “Is this guild of Matthew’s serious?”
Davey paused, startled by the change of subject. “I don’t think I’ve ever known him to not be serious.”
After Moses: Wormwood Page 10
