He sighed and turned back to the tombstone. Despite her reassurances, he didn’t think he would ever stop feeling guilty over the grief he had caused his mother. The grief his father had caused her. That was part of why he had originally become a priest. A misguided attempt at righting the wrongs his father had caused. But then as his mother had said, they all had a part in the chain of consequence that led them here. That was part of it.
So was Whitaker’s betrayal.
And his father’s alcoholism.
But his mother was somehow at peace with all of this. Maybe someday he would be too.
“I took Bishop Elias up on his offer to teach,” she said. “I’ll be staying at Antioch the next time you pass by.”
That brought a smile to his face. It was as safe a place as any in this age. “And the farm?”
“Jonas and his wife will be purchasing it, save this grove which I’ll retain. They can’t afford the land outright, of course, but I’ve been working out a finance plan with them. The land will be replanted next season and the farm will continue. Just... Without the Cole family.” As she said the last words, she began to tear up and Matthew pulled her into his arms again.
They looked at the tombstone one last time and then turned away in silence. There was nothing more to be said. Ahead of them, the sun continued to rise into the sky and the Sparrow’s engines hummed. It would lead them away from Mars, and who could tell if it would ever bear them back?
II.
IT TOOK A LONG TIME to get all of their people Home. With the loss of the Queen of Sheba, Tamru was left ferrying not only the Red Dragon but the shuttles full of personnel from the Queen, as well as the surviving members of Shotel Squadron. Thankfully, the Azure Dream volunteered to help, and between the two ships, they got the job done.
Home, of course, was what they called the old pirate asteroid base. They’d debated on names for months before eventually settling on the obvious because, more than anything, that’s exactly what it was. A Home for their families and the families of many of their employees. He disembarked from the Qolxad into the raucous noise of the busy hangar. The Red Dragon already had mechanics crawling over it like insects, and he stepped over to have a word with their chief.
“Are you the one I need to thank for this?” asked a voice from under the ship.
Tamru turned to see Ewan Hywel crawl out. His coveralls were already streaked with fresh grease. “You’ll have to thank my mother,” Tamru said, “but you and your crew are welcome here until you’re ready to go. The cafeteria is on the house. Just ask around and someone will point you in the right direction.”
Ewan looked a bit stunned, and he offered his hand before realizing he was a mess. “We’ll be out of your hair as soon as we can. I’ll let ‘Elwa know how thankful we are.”
Tamru shook his head. “Take your time. You’re our guests.” He turned and pushed his way through the crowded hangar toward the lift. Families were out in force to greet their loved ones, especially those of the Queen’s crew. He made a mental note that he’d have to check on the families of the interceptor pilots that died and make sure they weren’t lost in the bustle. Not everyone got a happy ending today.
The doors of the lift closed, insulating him from the chaos, and he punched in the code to the family’s private floor. It opened onto a lounge filled with a sea of friendly faces, but his eyes roved until he found his wife, Naomi. They met in an embrace, and soon his teenage children were clustered around him as well. Homecomings were always a relief, but this was the first time he had left looking for a fight. It changed things and the breaking of the tension was sweet.
“Have you seen mom?” he asked Naomi.
“She went straight to her office.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. Go ahead down to the caf. We’ll join you soon.”
He kissed her and opened the door to his mother’s office, knocking as he pushed it open. “Mother? Are you in here?”
“Yes, yes, come in.” She was staring out the window toward Mars. “Well what is it?” she snapped when he didn’t say anything.
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was just checking on you. We lost a lot today and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m surprised Mateo isn’t with you.”
“I sent your step-father to bring us something to eat. I’m not feeling terribly sociable at the moment.”
“I understand,” he said. As long as Mateo was coming back, Tamru would be content. He turned to leave but was stopped by a tired sigh from his mother.
“Do you remember what I said about closure, so long ago?” she asked.
So that was it. “Do you miss him right now?”
“The Queen was his idea, you know. He wrote up the business plan that was going to get us there. I just skipped most of the steps when we cashed in Captain Meriadoc’s bounty. It’s been over twenty years, but...” The moment lingered. “Watching the Queen go down felt like losing him again. The dreams we had together.” She turned around, and her eyes shone. “Am I a terrible wife for missing my late husband?”
Tamru stepped around the desk and took her hand. “Mateo knows, Mom. You’re always quiet around the anniversary of dad’s death. We all understand. You said yourself that grieving doesn’t ever truly end.”
“Is that what I said? And you listened like I knew what I was talking about.”
“I miss him too.”
“And I wish I’d had a chance to meet Kofi,” Mateo said, entering the office behind them. “Because he must have been a wonderful man to have made such an influence on you and the kids.”
Tamru smiled as his mother tried to wipe away the evidence that she’d been about to cry. “Yes. Well. This is all very embarrassing now that you’re both here to watch me cry over a ship and my first husband.”
For once, she looked her age, and very tired after a long day. If he had anything to say, she’d be spending more time at Home from now on. She’d earned that at least. “Then I’ll leave you two be,” he said. He opened the door to leave. “Get some rest.”
He shut the door and left the office behind. It was going to be a long day ahead, dealing with the fallout, and an even longer few months. There was no way they could replace the Queen anytime soon. Perhaps they could purchase a couple smaller ships in the meantime to cover the lost business. But that sort of planning was for a later day.
Today was a day to rest and mourn those that had been lost. That was how he found himself in the cafeteria with his own family, telling his kids stories about the grandfather they’d never known and the father he’d lost over twenty years ago.
III.
ABIGAIL DIDN’T DARE leave Medvedev’s manor, or what remained of it. Despite Milena’s assurances that the government of Doch Rossiya had no interest in arresting Abigail, she wasn’t going to take any chances. The sooner they could deal with the estate and be done with it, the sooner she could catch a flight off Mars and rejoin Matthew and the others.
And what a mess that estate was. And worse, it was all over Abigail’s head.
Tatiyana Medvedev left no will, no instructions on what was to be done with her property, her businesses, her assets, her fortune. She had no family or partners in business. She’d never had much interest in paperwork, let alone the peculiarities of Doch Rossiyan law, but Abigail, Natalya, and Milena were left to protect the interests of the freelancers that used Medvedev as their broker.
Over a two-week period, Milena became the unofficial face of the Medvedev estate to the Rossiyan government, despite lacking official standing. Knowing the corruption in the judicial system, she was able to push for a hasty resolution that favored all involved. After receiving an enormous bribe, a judge made a quick ruling and closed the case. The businesses were given to the employees. All unrelated assets were to be sold, except for the manor. The vast majority of the proceeds and fortune were seized by the government, with the fraction that remained to be divided among the freelancers, who were known to be the mistress’ fav
orites.
Milena began the work of transitioning from freelancer to broker. The manor would remain the property of the new management business to be helmed by Natalya and herself.
“Someone has to look out for the girls since Medvedev couldn’t be bothered to,” she said during yet another late evening in which they waded neck-deep through paperwork.
“You’re sure this is the career you want?” Abigail asked, setting aside her tablet.
“Well, I’m not going to be able to run field operations forever, and given the opportunity that’s presented itself, I can’t turn it down. You might keep your own options in mind.”
Abigail turned away so as not to show the nerve she’d struck. That wasn’t a line of thought that she wanted to contemplate. Pretending it wasn’t going to happen someday wouldn’t stave off that eventuality, but it kept her sanity in check. “I’m going to catch one of the flights out tomorrow if you can get me an exit voucher.”
“Easily. Rossiya’s border is only locked down if you don’t know who to approach. For someone that knows the bureaucrats, it’s as porous as can be.” She put down her papers and looked up to meet Abigail’s eyes. “I do appreciate you coming.”
“I didn’t do much. You and Natalya took care of everything.”
“Maybe I just needed a friendly face.” She took on a somber expression. “I’m sorry about what the mistress did.”
They’d found the records where Medvedev had hired Stein among a dozen other serious crimes. She hadn’t even tried to conceal them. She’d never expected anyone to look through her files.
“She failed, or Stein did.” Abigail tried not to imagine a world without Matthew Cole. “And in the end, her crimes found her out.” She thought about the slender old woman that had died in her arms and couldn’t help but shudder. Medvedev had had every worldly power and had died a beggar, desperate for what her money could never purchase. It was only as her freelancers compared notes that they all realized how deeply subversive the old woman had been. Perhaps that was why there always seemed to be a revolving door of new recruits joining and veterans leaving.
She hated how it put everything she knew about her old mentor in a new light. Without Medvedev, she might have never become a freelancer and likely would have never met Matthew. For that alone, she could be thankful to the old woman, at least on an intellectual level. But in her heart? Tatiyana Medvedev had sown only bitterness, and Abigail struggled not to turn it back upon the dead woman. She tried to pity her and remember that her actions had led her to an ignoble, if still just, ending.
“They found her out indeed,” Milena said. “And because of what she did to you, the other freelancers voted you into the cut.”
Abigail looked at her in surprise as she held out an envelope. “Medvedev hasn’t been my broker for over two years. I don’t have any stake.”
“None of us do, legally, but the court ruled otherwise, and we voted to include you.” She pushed the envelope into Abigail’s hands, and she hesitantly opened it. “Inside are details on how to access the account with your share.”
“How much?” She was almost afraid of the answer.
“Over half a million.”
“Holy... I can’t—”
“It’s already done,” Milena said. “You guys may need it anyway. The Sparrow’s going to have hard times ahead. Consider this an apology from the Medvedev estate and a thank you for being among the good guys.” She grinned. “Also, every one of our freelancers wants membership in the guild now.”
Abigail tore her eyes off the envelope. “Even with Matthew labeled as an enemy of the state?”
“Are you kidding? He’s practically going to be a folk hero to the masses after this. The tabloids are already comparing him to Robin Hood for destroying the Phobos Platform.” Abigail shook her head but couldn’t help but smile in pride. Matthew wasn’t going to approve of this at all. Something she took great delight in. “Further,” Milena said, “I thought that you should keep this. You’re more likely to find use. And it’s safer in your hands than with someone who doesn’t appreciate how dangerous it is.” She passed Abigail a small, sealed container housing a smooth metal cube.
Medvedev’s miracle. It must have been found in the ruined half of the building. She carefully took the container, and its wondrous piece of technology, one last gift from her old broker. Unwilling, of course, but that was how all of her gifts came.
The next morning she left the manor, without a single glance over her shoulder, leaving the dead past to be forgotten.
IV.
IT HAD BEEN A SIMPLE request. She didn’t expect Matthew to go out of his way to fulfill it so quickly.
Yvonne climbed off the back of his new bike and looked at him expectantly. He only gave a grave shake of the head. “This is your business. I’ll be here if you need me.”
The cold dark streets of Ceres had an unavoidable familiarity. Despite only living here for five years, her life was anchored around the events that had transpired here. It was the centerpiece of her years, with one life stretching out before and another life after. She lifted her eyes to the old storefront carved into the stone tunnel.
The windows had been broken out long ago. No doubt, anything of value had been scavenged from the clinic within days of her abandoning it. When Piggy had ludicrously proposed, and Matthew Cole swept in to give her a chance at a different life. She’d walked away, walked away from the profession she and Tomas had labored in, and become someone different. A pilot, a passable mechanic, a cook, a freelancer.
A draft blew down the dark street, and trash rustled at her feet. She hugged her coat to herself and pulled a small flashlight from her pocket, and shined it into what was left of the clinic. The waiting room was stripped of furniture, the walls stained with mold and decay. The humid tunnels of Ceres quickly destroyed anything that wasn’t maintained. She pushed the broken door open, wincing as the corroded hinge whined a mournful note. It occurred to her that the clinic might not be totally abandoned. But Matthew was nearby, and after the dangers she had faced, stumbling onto a squatter held little fear for her.
So many memories assaulted her. From them scrounging funds to rent and finally purchase the location, to the hiring of an occasional employee when times were good, to the last birthdays they had shared together. And the people they saved. She pushed through the swinging double door to the back, into the open area that could be partitioned into rooms via a curtain. Those were torn down and either missing or piled in a corner.
This was the room where Tomas had died. There against the wall, he had bled out from a fatal wound while she saved Kudzu’s life. In the pool of light from the flashlight, she imagined she could still see the bloodstains creeping ever outward. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she flicked off the light to stop the spinning of the room.
It had been foolish to come here. What was she proving? That she was someone changed and different? And to whom? Tomas was certainly long gone from this place.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you both,” she said to no one in particular. Then she frowned. “I’m sorry that... That life was hard, Kudzu. That you were a damn fool and left behind a son. That you couldn’t get even that one thing right. And I’m sorry that I took away any chance you had left at that. Tomas was better than both of us, I guess.”
She flicked the light back on and turned toward the office in the back. “But it’s all wrong isn’t it. And not just with me. It’s been that way since the beginning.” The sound of her voice made the dead clinic feel a little less empty, even if it did make her sound like a crazy woman.
The office door had been pulled off and leaned against the wall. She stepped through the entryway and wasn’t surprised to find that, like everything else, it was in ruins. She looked through a twisted metal filing cabinet. Someone had used a heavy object to smash the lock apart. They were most likely disappointed to discover that it only held hard copies of medical records. But at the back was the very thing she wa
s looking for. Taped to the rear wall of the cabinet was a picture of Tomas making a goofy face. He’d hidden it there one day, hoping she’d see it and laugh. It had taken her three weeks to stumble upon it. She’d never taken the picture down.
She rubbed at the tears running down her face as she peeled the tape back and took the precious photograph into her hands. Oh, Tomas. At least now I know what’s wrong with me. That really was the mistake, thinking that there was a remarkable difference between Kudzu and herself. Maybe she hid it better, but in the end, they were both merely human.
And that realization, both in the heights and depths that simple word implied in all its mystery, made all the difference. That the image of the divine and the depravity of hell itself could be found in a single fragile vessel.
She pocketed the picture and carefully picked her way back through the clinic to the street, where Matthew sat leaning against the still running bike. He gave her an appraising look before asking, “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I did. Or at least the beginning of it.”
He smiled, perhaps understanding more than she had spoken aloud. He was good at that. “Then let’s go home.”
Epilogue
The Battle of Phobos was a way marker in the history of mankind, the end of one act in preparation for the next. Some thought that with the exit of Alexander Logan’s particular brand of Human Abrogation the state of the colonies would improve. How wrong they were in their estimates of man’s nobility. They always are.
The Highland Treaty Organization refused to withdraw from the Kyoto factory zone, despite the passing of the known threat, citing an uncertain future and the continual need for security, particularly in light of the destruction of Phobos. Kyoto’s allies, designating themselves as the Allied Forces, an astute nod to Earth history, also refused to leave and two armed camps settled into a tense watch over the divided colony. In the name of protecting an essential asset, the shadow of a cold war fell across us all.
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