“Hmm. Me neither.” She went back to her tomatoes.
He stood for a minute, awkward and unsure of what to do. He could probably go back to the house to wash up his produce, but something in Elizabeth’s last question held him in place. “Do you worry about him much?”
“Always. That’s been my job for three and a half decades. And now, oh Davey, he’s making enemies. The cartels of Europa. The syndicates. This Whitaker scares the daylights out of me. And now these Abrogationists. Of course, I worry.” Her voice grew sharper as the list went on before ending with a note of bitterness.
“At least this guild will give us more allies,” Davey said slowly, feeling he was on a crumbling cliffside.
“Of that, I’m glad. He was alone for so many years. I was... I was relieved when he took on a crew.” Davey saw the glisten of moisture in her eyes. “And now his crew is family. Let’s go clean up. Just leave the weed bucket here. I’ll have more to do in the morning before the farmhands show up.”
He followed her back to the house and through the back door into the kitchen. They emptied their buckets of produce, carrots, asparagus, and fresh lettuce onto the counter. “I’ll wash,” she said. “If you would, dry for me, please.”
They quietly went about their task. Elizabeth broke the silence after several minutes. “Sorry to lay that on you. I really am glad you’re with him on the Sparrow. All of you. I’m just afraid he’s burning too much fuel. That he’ll burn up before he’s content to stay in one place. I don’t know what put this wanderlust in his heart, but if it isn’t satisfied eventually, he’ll never have roots. The job of the freelancer is a young man’s game.”
What would Matthew do when he was done being the captain of the Sparrow? Did freelancers ever retire for that matter? Or would he be like ‘Elwa and man his ship till he was old and gray, a grizzled captain wise to all the solar system? “All I know is, I’ll be there with him till the end.”
She placed a head of lettuce on the counter beside him to dry. “Go ahead and break the leaves off like this and dry them individually. We’ll use this one tonight. And that’s a bold declaration to make Davey. The solar system is a dangerous place. Neither you nor Matthew may live to see his retirement.”
“Is it really getting worse out there?”
She looked thoughtfully out the small window above the sink. “I think so. Would that I had the Shield of Aeneas to read the fates of Rome and know what is to come. Is there victory ahead or is everything vanity?”
He frowned. “Shield of what now?”
She laughed. “The Shield of Aeneas. It’s an artifact in the Aeneid, an epic poem about the founding of Rome. It was made by the god Vulcan and engraved with future events as a token and proof of the coming victory.”
“That sounds pretty cool.”
“The Aeneid is one of my favorites.”
Davey pursued his lips. “Do you... Do you have a copy I could borrow? Maybe?” He felt his cheeks warm. It was a stupid question.
Beside him, Elizabeth stood back and gave him a look. “Yes. But you can’t start with the Aeneid.”
Now he felt really stupid. “Why not?”
“You need to read the Iliad and the Odyssey first.”
“Are those about Rome too?”
“No they are much older Greek works, by the poet Homer. Virgil took inspiration and wrote the Aeneid almost as a continuation.” She laughed as she turned off the water. “Almost like a work of fan fiction.”
Davey remembered the collection of weird unofficial Splendid Sam stories he and Grace had found on the Titan network. Most were pretty terrible, and quite a few he’d forbidden Grace from opening, but they’d managed to find a few gems amongst the garbage. “So do you have a copy of the first one I can borrow?”
“Of course. I’m going to warn you, though. It’ll be hard. You’ll have to look up a lot of words and names and places. And it’s set on Earth, so there’s a lot of context you’ll need to learn to understand what’s going on.”
The easy thing would have been to abandon ship. Take the escape pod and get out of there before he got in over his head. But then he remembered his conversation with Yvonne. Maybe it wasn’t too late to learn a little bit about the world. “If I run into something I don’t get, can I send you a message?”
She put a hand on her hip. “I would love nothing more.” She dried her hands. “Come. Let’s go find my copy.”
Davey followed her out of the kitchen, aware that he’d probably just bitten off more than he could chew. “Hey. Don’t tell Matthew. Yet.” He wasn’t even sure why, but the idea of Matthew watching him struggle through a hard book made him sweat.
“It’ll be our secret.” She smiled as she pulled a terrifyingly thick book off a shelf. His eyes went wide. That was the book he was borrowing?
THE MUSEUM OF THE FIRST Martians was better without Davey complaining the whole way about how dumb it was. Yvonne was far more interested than he was in the history of the early exploration of Mars, but that didn’t really surprise Grace. She’d begun to realize over the last couple years, that while Matthew was smart, especially about people and right and wrong stuff, Yvonne was brilliant. She learned new subjects and skills in a single sitting despite being the oldest member of the crew. It was no wonder she’d picked up mechanics. And piloting. And cooking. And anything else the team needed.
“Can you imagine,” Yvonne said, “living in a time when there were new things all the time. New advances and sciences. New horizons and worlds to step foot on.”
“That does sound pretty cool,” Grace admitted. They’d left the last of the exhibits, the preserved remains of the first ship that brought humans to Mars, and were passing the gift shop. It looked like it was mostly full of junk. She wasn’t sure what spaceship-shaped candy had to do with anything. “I think it would be pretty awesome to be the first to step foot on a new moon or planet.”
“There are still a few places in our backyard we haven’t been,” Yvonne said. “During Moses’ era, we visited the moons of Uranus but never settled any colonies that far out. There wasn’t any need. I’ve never heard of any expeditions to Neptune or beyond.”
“We’ve got a ship. Let’s do it.”
Yvonne tsked softly. “As the ship’s bookkeeper, I’m going to have to advise against that. The fuel cost would be beyond extreme, and the profit nonexistent.”
“Boo. You have no sense of adventure.” The automatic front doors of the museum opened and they stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. “I guess we head back to the plaza to wait for Abigail and Matthew?”
Yvonne shook her head. “We can leave them a message and catch a train home. Maybe we can help Elizabeth cook dinner and learn a thing or two from her.”
They walked down the wide stairs from the museum toward the sidewalk. That was when Grace heard him.
“Are we not then an invasive species?” a voice shouted. “A species plucked from its natural environment to disastrous consequences for itself and its new home?”
A young man in a suit stood on the sidewalk, carrying a sign over his shoulder. It read ‘Human Abrogation is the Future.’
Grace froze in her tracks and stared at him. “Isn’t that illegal?” she asked Yvonne in a voice barely above a whisper as the man droned on.
“In Arizona? No, I think it’s okay. As long as he doesn’t espouse violence or threaten anyone, he’s probably free to say what he wants.” She motioned to a pair of police officers standing nearby. “It looks like they’re keeping an eye on him.”
“But Abrogationists are known terrorists!”
Yvonne shook her head. “Human abrogation is a philosophical stance. Misguided, but its followers have a right to their terrible opinions. Some of them enact their beliefs through violence, despite the fact that the philosophy discourages such actions. If this guy can stand on the sidewalk and spout his ridiculous ideas in full view of the police, then I’m sure he’s never hurt anyone.” Suddenly she did a double ta
ke.
“Umm. You okay there?” Grace frowned and looked back and forth between Yvonne and the protester.
Yvonne’s eyes narrowed. “I... I know him.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means I’m going to have a word with him.” She marched down the sidewalk toward the man. Grace grimaced and hurried to catch up. This had gotten weird on the quick.
The man turned to face them when they were only a few feet away. “Good afternoon! Do you have questions about—”
“I remember you,” Yvonne cut him off.
He stopped short. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure I can say the same. Maybe you could refresh my memory.”
“Ever spend time in Bright Crater, Ceres?”
He nodded once. “I spent four years there. I take it that’s where we met.”
She pointed a finger at him. “You used to protest outside my clinic every Monday for nearly three months. You were incredibly frustrating.”
Grace saw recognition spread across his face. “Doctor Naude. I remember now. I’m sorry I had forgotten. I hope you know I never meant you or your husband any harm. I hope you’re both doing well.”
“He’s dead, thank you.”
Grace winced. If there was one way to turn Yvonne’s mood sour, this was it. This guy was playing with fire and he didn’t know it. To his credit, he flinched and Grace thought he actually looked remorseful. “I’m sorry. He was always polite to me when we spoke.”
“That’s because he was a good man that cared about people,” Yvonne said. “Unlike followers of your degenerate philosophy.”
He took a step back and his expression fell flat. “It’s not that we don’t care. Human Abrogationists don’t wish death or harm on anyone. We believe that responsible people should do what they can to end the colonization of the solar system. We were artificially transplanted by the Great Enabler to the colonies. The current suffering of our race is entirely due to that fact. Humanity’s place is Earth. We should return to our radiation-wracked home until we are able to stand on our own two feet.”
“I’ve heard it all before,” Yvonne said. “You speak about morals and ethics. But you’ve stepped outside of every ethical framework to ever exist that wasn’t dreamed up in the philosophy department of a morally bankrupt academic institution. What about future generations? Not some hypothetical ‘we all go back to die on Earth’ future generation, but this one right here?” she gestured at Grace. “Who gave you the right to choose against her generation? Why don’t they get to live their lives? They did nothing to deserve your kind trying to steal civilization out from under them.” She’d gotten louder and louder as she’d continued. Grace noticed that the police officers nearby had taken interest and edged closer.
“Don’t doctors do the same thing?”
Yvonne’s face reddened. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t you sometimes choose who lives and who dies? You have the concept of triage, where sometimes you have to make hard decisions. You and your husband ran a trauma clinic. Have you never held another’s life in your hands and had to choose if they will live to see another day?”
Grace held her breath as every muscle in Yvonne’s face stiffened. “That’s different than being an executioner like your fellow Abrogationists. Doctors save lives. That’s something you’ll never do.”
This wasn’t good. Grace tugged on Yvonne’s arm. “Hey. Let’s go. This isn’t worth the trouble.”
“Is it different, though?” he asked. “Are you not an executioner to the one you let die? It’s all in perspective. Yes, human Abrogationists choose according to different metrics. But the concept shouldn’t be so alien to a doctor.”
“To a doctor, all life is sacred!” She was practically in his face now shouting. Grace tugged on her arm again, but Yvonne ignored her. “Even those that don’t deserve it. Even filth like you that protest things you don’t understand. Even...” Her voice cracked, and she stopped abruptly.
“Ma’am I think you should move on.” The police officers were at their side now. “This guy is out here every afternoon. He loves getting under people’s skin.”
She threw Grace’s arm off and turned to march away. The police stepped closer to the protester to talk to him, but he stepped around them and addressed Grace. “Hey kid. Tell her I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was about.”
“Me neither,” Grace mumbled and turned to catch up with Yvonne. She’d seen the shimmer of tears in her eyes as she’d turned away. She had no idea what was going on, but she was going to ask Matthew about it.
PRESIDENT NORMAN BARCLAY listened to the story of the two freelancers who stood in his office. One was all swagger. The Shield Maiden of Mars. She’d turned up in news stories and intelligence reports over the years. He was more familiar with her name and reputation than the specifics of her exploits.
The other was a man of particular interest. Matthew Cole’s name had been repeated over and over during the last few months. He was an Arizona native, though Norman doubted he had any particular loyalty to his home colony anymore. The media painted him as a hero of the people. Like some kind of cowboy that walked into town, flashed his guns, and suddenly everything was going to be okay.
But the world wasn’t that simple, and everyone in the room knew it. Including the half-dozen armed secret service agents that kept a wary eye on Sharon.
Norman sat back in his chair behind his desk tapped his fingers on the arms of his chair. “I have to take this message as a personal threat,” he said. “Logan is calling me out personally, and I can’t ignore that.”
“I understand, sir,” Cole said. “Just make sure not to fall into his hands. He’s crafty. And we nearly did that at Ceres. If he’s calling you out, he’s hoping you’ll behave in a way that benefits him.”
“I see. Hopefully, all of this comes to naught. Our entire intelligence apparatus has been bent toward capturing Logan ever since Ceres.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” Cole wrinkled his lip, almost looking unsure of himself for a moment. That was interesting. “You’re not the only one looking for him. We have a powerful... ally that’s been trying to eliminate Logan for a long time. Even he hasn’t had much luck.”
Thompson shifted at that, and Norman made a note to ask privately what that was about. The minister had more than a few shadowy sources of information. Maybe he knew something about this ally. An enemy of an enemy could also be a friend in a moment of need.
“It’s no matter. With the combined forces of the colonies hunting him, the clock is ticking. Logan’s previous successes have isolated the Abrogationists from having many political allies. We’ll find him. He’s tipped his hand in arrogance. And even if we don’t, Kyoto and Gilgamesh will have the security to protect their factories. We’ll see to that one way or the other.”
“Don’t underestimate him,” Sharon growled. “This isn’t a game.”
Norman smiled. “Ma’am I’ve served almost two full terms as president of the colony of Arizona. I’m neither a child nor naive. I thank you for your service to humanity, but I’ll take care of things from here.” He nodded his head, and the freelancers were ushered from the room by the secret service agents.
Thompson slunk over from his corner and crossed his arms. “Well, sir? What do you think?”
“I believe them. I think Prime Minister Dobashi and I need to have a conversation about updating our status of forces agreement. The Kyoto military won’t be sufficient for this threat.”
Thompson shrugged. “And now we’re outside my area of expertise. I’ll continue keeping an eye on the domestic side of things unless you need something else.”
“I may, actually. You reacted to Cole’s hesitant mention of an ally. What do you know about that?”
“Nothing for sure. But I know a broker of information and...” he hesitated. “Influence, that matches the description. Don’t ask me his name. He has a flair for the dramatic and goes by an assortment of monikers. I’ve worked with
him before on various projects. But I wasn’t aware that the crew of the Sparrow have as well.”
Norman tapped his fingers on his desk. “Would he be an asset to us?”
“Sir, he’s the type that would only help someone when it suits his own purposes.”
“And our purposes seem to have met. See if he’ll work with the Office of Colonial Intelligence.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
He waved him off. “You can go.” Norman watched as the other man left the office. Despite the previous scandal, it had paid to keep Thompson around. He kept the leash shorter than it used to be, but that was hardly a problem. It took all sorts to keep a government moving, even those that occasionally broke the rules.
Norman closed his eyes to clear his thoughts and picked up his comm. He’d better talk to Prime Minister Dobashi now before this hit official channels. A diplomatic storm was brewing, and it would be better to have it out in private before the press got wind of what was happening.
DINNER AT THE COLE farm was a hit, as always. Salad, fresh asparagus, deviled eggs, and of course, the promised bacon. Matthew watched as the crew tore into the meal like a pack of starving dogs. At least half of the bacon was gone in seconds, inhaled as though it were the last lungfuls of oxygen from an air canister, though he did notice everyone kept one of their three rashers back, probably to enjoy at the very end. Abigail and Grace laughed at a joke, happy and carefree, and his mother and Davey were in a deep discussion about whether or not asparagus was really worth all the space she had devoted to it in the garden.
Only Yvonne was quiet. Grace had quietly told him about the confrontation with the Abrogationist, relaying as much of the conversation as she could remember.
“She just blew up, Matthew.”
“It’s alright. Thanks for telling me. I’ll check and make sure she’s okay.”
He hadn’t followed through with that promise yet. She’d do as she’d done every time he tried to talk to her about Ceres and blow him off. It was a puzzle he would have to sort out soon. He’d made it a point to respect her privacy and not check the security camera’s recording of that day, but he was starting to think that might not have been the wisest course. She might be a free woman, but something had its claws in her.
After Moses: Wormwood Page 11
