Matthew offered her his hand, but she just reached for the suit herself, feeling the heat on her face. Something about Thompson being around made her less keen on accepting Matthew’s help.
“I’ve had an APB issued for Stein,” Thompson said, “and we’re sending it on to every colony in the solar system. Standing order is to wait on backup. I don’t want anyone else getting killed.”
Matthew spun on him. “Anyone else? The two he stabbed—”
“Will live. Probably. We’ve got emergency services meeting us at the next stop.” Thompson shook his head. “Stein killed a fellow agent in the stairwell on the way out of the office.”
Abigail closed the suit and breathed a quiet sigh of relief as her awareness shifted from her own body to her armor. “So what now?” she asked.
“We’re checking with the Department of Defense on radar records to track that skyhopper. That was one of their stealth models, so that may be a tricky affair.”
“And if that fails?” Matthew asked.
Thompson crossed his arms. “We’ll move on to satellite imaging, but that will take time. We’ll get him. Between corruption in the Department of Defense and the Abrogationists, he’s too valuable to let get away. And when we find him, I want you two on point.”
For their history, he sure was willing to throw critical missions their way. “You know,” she said, “we normally get paid for work.” Matthew gave her a quick side glance, but she just shrugged. “Just voicing Yvonne’s opinion since she can’t be here.”
“We can settle on that part later if it’s appropriate,” Matthew assured him.
Thompson nodded and left. He may be tolerating them, but it looked like he wasn’t up for unnecessary conversation. She leaned down to look out the window. Hopefully, the next stop was coming soon, for the sake of the injured. “Speaking of Yvonne, have you heard from them? They should be to Ceres by now.”
Matthew didn’t answer immediately, and she looked at him questioningly. Finally, he sighed. “This morning, she sent word that they’d arrived and were heading into town for business.” He paused briefly. “I replied with a follow-up question, but...”
“You haven’t heard back.”
“It’s been nearly six hours.”
“Time difference, maybe?”
He shook his head. “They’re only an hour off from us right now.”
“Hmm,” Abigail said, mostly because she didn’t have anything better to say. There wasn’t much they could do about it either way. They’d find out what was going on when they heard from them. Matthew was going to worry until then, no matter what she said. Still, as the only one around, it was her duty to make him stop. “Hey,” she said. “I’m sure it’s fine.” He gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her, but then she didn’t think her assurance held much water either. The Sparrow was separated from its two primary guardians. Grace and Davey were alright in a scuffle, and Yvonne was a slick pilot, but it felt wrong knowing they were millions of kilometers away.
“You’re right,” she said, feeling the lump in her throat. “It’s probably not fine.”
Chapter 12: Merely Human
The story of human civilization revolves around a single sentence, the most important ever put to paper. This one collection of words added a new idea to our collective consciousness, one that has haunted us ever since.
‘So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him.’
The idea has changed everything, and we have wrestled with ourselves, our nations, the universe, and perhaps even God himself over this foundational precept. If each and every human bears an image of the divine, then they have intrinsic and inalienable value from which they cannot be divorced. If this is only a mere collection of words, then they hold no power, and the concept of human dignity is but an illusion.
Are not all of our wars, our struggles, our hatreds, and prejudices linked to our resentment of this idea? For how would we be transformed if we could truly believe that we are each an echo, an imperfect reflection of someone beyond our collective ability to fathom?
Davignon Brault
Neurosurgeon, Churchill, Mars
Died 44 AM
DAVEY KNOCKED ON ELIZABETH’S door, book tucked under his arm.
“Come in,” she answered. He stepped into her cabin and held out her book to her. “Finished already?” she asked with a smile.
“Already,” he scoffed. “It’s been three months. You were right. It wasn’t a quick read. Or easy. I had to have a dictionary open half the time.”
Elizabeth sat on her bed and folded her hands in her lap. “And what do you say of the epics of the ancient world?”
He rubbed at the back of his head. “I think I’d have to read them a few more times to get everything. Honestly, it took me a long time to even get into the feel of things, but I think I was enjoying it by the end. And I think I understand your comment on the shield of Aeneas now, about how it filled him with hope. We don’t have that. Maybe during Moses’ time there was confidence, but look where that left us.” Another thought crossed his mind as he remembered more of the Aeneid. “Now, it’s like Juno is about to open the Gates of War.”
Elizabeth smiled sadly. “She may already have. You know, the Greeks named her Hera, and her grandson was Phobos. Phobos is mostly mentioned in the service of his father, the god of war.”
“I remember seeing that name mentioned in the Iliad,” Davey said. Given the current political situation on Mars, it had been impossible to miss.
She nodded. “Phobos represents the terror of war. The threat his father brings on mankind.”
He chewed on that thought. “That’s convenient. I wonder if they were thinking about that when they built the platform.”
Elizabeth made a humming noise. “I suspect someone along the way may have noticed. So now the god who brings the terror of war stands high above the surface of the red planet. Waiting only for his father, Mars, to give the command. If the Gates of War are not yet open, then they might soon be.” She reached out and took the book from him.
“Thank you,” he said. “I learned a lot and... I think I liked most of it.”
She hugged the book to herself and her eyes teared up. Davey felt a surge of panic. Had he said something wrong? “Are you okay?” he asked, hating the sound of his own voice in that moment.
“I lost my entire collection of books when they burned the farm,” she said simply. “Decades of collecting and they’re all gone.”
His breath hitched in his chest. He knew how much Matthew loved his small library. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to lose something so valuable. And now he had the smallest inkling about the power that such volumes could contain. They weren’t just stories, but ideas and thoughts come to life. The gods of Greece and Rome had never lived, yet they held a power to stir the imagination. Even now a century after the last statues in their honor had been blasted to dust.
Phobos would never again just be a moon to Davey, but a vengeful deity bent on the fear of death.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never realized...”
Elizabeth was on her feet and drew him into a hug before he could protest. “Don’t apologize. Your curiosity saved one of my favorite books.”
“Well. I’m glad I borrowed it then. Thanks.”
She stepped away, still clutching the volume. “Should we pick another book? I’m afraid you’ll have to get a digital copy this time.”
“Another book? I mean I hadn’t really thought that, but yeah, I guess.” He paused. “Sure. So what’s the next one?” It wouldn’t hurt.
“I was thinking Shakespeare this time. If power-mad men are threatening to open the Gates of War, perhaps we should go with a tale about soul-destroying ambition. How about Macbeth?”
He’d heard of Shakespeare, of course, but not Macbeth. “This one won’t take me three months, will it?”
“You’ll be able to finish in just a few days. I’ll send you a copy
.”
“I guess I’ll get started tonight.” He’d never been to school, but apparently homework was still a thing. He got the feeling that Elizabeth would let him bow out but would secretly be disappointed, and he didn’t think he could bear that. What was it with the Cole family that made them so hard to let down? And who was he kidding? He’d enjoyed it. “Maybe I’ll get a ways in before we get to Ceres tomorrow.”
“Read the first act,” she suggested, “to get accustomed to the style, and maybe we can talk about it at breakfast. I can answer questions about the history and setting then as well.”
“Just so long as there isn’t a test at the end,” he shrugged and let the door slide shut. When he passed by Grace’s open door, he heard a single word.
“Nerd.”
He laughed and leaned in to make a rude face at her.
Yvonne started the coffee pot on her way to the hold. Despite Matthew’s absence, his rigid way of conducting business on the Sparrow was still observed. When carrying cargo that required refrigeration, always check their temperature first thing in the morning. If something had gone wrong overnight, there might still be a chance to salvage things if you catch it at the earliest possible moment. She stepped off the ladder and crossed the open hold to the single shipping container.
“Of course, if the unit ever broke, I don’t know what I would do to fix it,” she mumbled as she pulled up the screen. Negative twenty. Still frozen hard as a rock, though she wondered if the buyers would even know if she simply refroze the container. They were carrying ice from Enceladus. The material, though, nothing more than water with a mixture of minerals, was a heavily regulated export. Not because it was rare. The moon was covered with the stuff. But forced rarity created luxury commodities, and the wealthy of the solar system would pay to have their drink chilled with ice from Saturn’s moon.
“Morons,” she said, turning her attention to her garden. She walked the aisles of plants, hands brushing the leaves. They’d never looked better and having a farmer on board wasn’t hurting at all. Yvonne probably should have been offended that Elizabeth had taken over two of her duties, cooking, and gardening, but with her extended lease on the acting-captain gig, she wasn’t going to complain. She imagined a life in which she hadn’t been a doctor, but the captain of a ship like ‘Elwa. Yvonne and Tomas would have wandered the colonies. But then there was no safety in that freedom either. Tomas may have met a fate like Kofi had.
No, there were no assurances in any life, in any stage of history.
She pushed aside the fantasy. She wouldn’t trade the life she’d had for another, though like anyone, she would edit a few moments, take back a foolish comment or adjust a poor financial decision to a wiser one. And then, of course, there was one moment in particular. She had thought enough about it to know that in a perfect world, she wouldn’t have done what she did. But then she couldn’t imagine ever doing anything different.
In the end, she was only one vengeful woman and had been an executioner cheated, and in a thousand lifetimes, she would have made the same decision in every last one of them. She had thought that reaching this conclusion would bring her some level of peace. Instead it brought her an uneasy disquiet.
She hadn’t had enough coffee yet to be having these thoughts. With a sigh, she climbed the ladder back up to the main deck just in time to claim a mug at the earliest possible moment after it was ready.
DAVEY SLID INTO THE copilot’s chair and looked down at Ceres as they orbited far above. They hadn’t been here since, well, the incident.
“It’s not the most welcoming sight anymore, is it?” Yvonne asked.
He looked at the stark gray surface broken by the lights of cities and shrugged. “We were bound to come back eventually. It’s just a place.”
“One with a lot of history.”
He nodded in concession and silently granted that she had more here than he did. “Are we still waiting on Benny?”
“Until he tells me where this hunk of ice goes, we’re just wasting time.”
It was an odd job. Normally when they picked up cargo, the ending destination was already decided, but in this case, the seller was still trying to negotiate a buyer. It felt like a big business risk to Davey, but he supposed the client would know better than he did. Ceres had millions of people, and one of them would probably be stupid enough to buy a cargo container of overpriced ice.
The console pinged an incoming message. “And speak of the devil,” he said.
Yvonne leaned forward and pulled the message up on the main display. Davey shifted to get a better look and read silently. By the time he finished, he was frowning. His eyes shifted over to Yvonne. Rather than looking annoyed or angry like he had anticipated, she was thoughtful. “At least he apologized,” she said.
He sighed. “I guess it isn’t his fault. Still, sending us to Bright Crater...”
The last time Yvonne had been there, she and Abigail got caught at an opera house between two syndicates. And before that, it was the place her husband died. She had every right to be annoyed at coming here, and given how on edge she’d been the last few months, Davey was expecting an eruption.
“It’s just a place,” she said, but he knew that there was a lot she was leaving unsaid. “I’ll record a quick confirmation.” She pulled up the comm. “Thanks, Benny. We’re already in orbit and ready to make the delivery. I appreciate your concern for my feelings. It’s sweet, but I assure you that I’m an adult and capable of handling it.”
Davey wasn’t sure if she was being passive-aggressive or just honest. He supposed if the broker was used to dealing with Matthew, he’d be more than capable of dealing with Yvonne.
“We’ll send confirmation once we’re done,” she continued. “Go ahead and dig up our next job while you’re at it. Talk to you soon.” With a few taps, she sent the message on its way before pulling up navigation and setting Bright Crater as their destination. “We’ve got about five minutes until our deorbit window. Do you want to do the honors?”
Davey chewed at his lip. “I guess. I’ll take us down, but you have to land us. This will probably be a private hangar instead of an open landing field.”
“You’ll do just fine,” she said.
He stared at the navigation chart for a long minute before grunting, “Sure. Why not?”
Ever since Matthew’s injury, Yvonne had been teaching him to fly the Sparrow. It would pay to have someone else with hours behind the helm just in case something happened to her or there was an accident. Grace had gotten a few hours behind the yoke while frame-skipping, but he’d had good practice while the crew was separated. It made sense to learn, but actually doing it always shot his nerves. Partially because of how easy it would be to screw up, especially on a tricky landing, but also because they hadn’t told Matthew yet. Yvonne thought he would be pleased. Maybe even proud. Davey wasn’t nearly as confident. The Sparrow wasn’t replaceable, and it wasn’t like teaching someone to drive a grav bike.
Learning to fly had involved a few long and very involved lessons on orbital physics. He was horrified at the outset. “I learned in my fifties,” Yvonne said curtly. “You’ll be fine.” And he had been. In the end, he’d even agreed that there was something beautiful about the delicate ballet of putting an object in perpetual freefall around a source of gravity. The computers handled all the numbers, thank God, or else he would have been totally lost, but he did have to learn the vocabulary and understand the basics of what was happening and why.
That part was actually fun, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Yvonne. He didn’t need the inevitable gloating.
“Coming up on our window,” Yvonne said.
“Right.” He took the flight yoke and began to rotate the Sparrow. “Adjusting heading to retrograde.” The Sparrow was small enough to only have one set of main engines. That meant whenever you wanted to slow down, you had to use the maneuvering thrusters to spin and face the way you had come from and burn the engines. Somewhat larger ship
s had forward-facing thrusters built in to solve that problem, and the biggest, like some of the colonial military frigates or Gebre’elwa’s super freighter, had a set of forward-facing main engines. Some of them didn’t even have a true forward or aft.
Not the case with the Sparrow. They had to ride into a planet or moon’s gravity pointed at the stars.
“Thirty seconds to burn,” Yvonne said. “It’ll be a nice and easy one. No more than twenty percent of throttle. Keep an eye on the charts, and you’ll be fine.”
Right. Ceres had low gravity, so the orbital speed they had to shed was low. When the clock ticked to zero, he eased the throttle forward, feeling the steady rumble through the deck. The Sparrow began to decelerate, and as they no longer maintained the velocity to stay in orbit, Ceres’ gravity drew them down to the surface. While he guided the ship, Yvonne called ahead to secure specific landing instructions. “You lucked out,” she said when she pulled up the coordinates to the hangar. “Top entry hangar rather than side entry.”
Davey noted that they had ever so slightly drifted off course and made the appropriate adjustments that the computer suggested. By the time they approached Bright Crater, the Sparrow had followed a graceful arc down to the surface and had killed its orbital speed. He pulled the ship out of its retrograde heading and directed it toward the hangar. The rest of the landing went without incident, save for a slightly harder than normal thump when they touched down. He winced, but Yvonne didn’t seem concerned. He couldn’t figure out how she and Matthew set down a few thousand tons of metal so gently.
“Whoa. When did you start flying?”
Davey groaned as Grace pushed her way into the cockpit. “When you were sitting around on Ganymede.”
After Moses: Wormwood Page 34
