by RS McCoy
He thought the whole situation was funny.
Charlene grabbed a container of berries from cold storage and set it on the table.
To Abraham’s horror, Siya tilted the container and drained it into his mouth. He gobbled up all the berries in a single mouthful.
Those berries were supposed to be for Charlene and the children.
Abraham doubted Siya even tasted them. So much work wasted.
“Can I talk to you?” Abraham asked her, ignoring the stranger for a moment.
Charlene nodded and stepped down the corridor. Abraham followed her until they were far enough away to have a private conversation. With a straight line of sight, they could see him the entire time.
“What do you think? Is it even possible?” he asked in a whisper.
Charlene crossed her arms and clutched them tight. She kept her eyes on the floor. Abraham knew her thoughts raced. If he’d learned nothing else over the last few months, he knew Charlene.
“I don’t know. I asked them about the red soil when we first got here. They said it was just an isolated area. That they picked this part of the moon because it the geology was ideal. I mean, what do I know about it?” Her jaw clenched tight. “Dammit, I knew better than to listen to that guy!”
“What guy?”
“Uh, Parker or something. The guy that set up the colony.”
“Do you know how to contact him directly?” They hadn’t been able to reach anyone else.
“We can only do emergency transmissions once a year, to swap someone out if they’re not suited, like we did with Gregor. That’s not for months, though.”
Abraham sighed. What kind of emergency could be addressed months after the fact? Why were they so damn isolated that they couldn’t even call for help?
“What can we do with him? Can we send him back?” Abraham’s heart thumped in his chest.
“We could send him back out the airlock, but I mean, where would he go? If he could walk back to his crew, he would have already, wouldn’t he?”
“He’s not our responsibility," Abraham realized then that he didn’t care about Siya’s life. He was prepared to sentence the stranger to the surface of the planet with no resources and no chance of survival.
Given the choice between Siya’s life or the safety of Charlene and the kids, he knew the choice he would make. At the same time, he knew that it was wrong, that he was a heartless bastard, a murderer.
Abraham didn’t care.
Maybe that’s how he got here.
“We can’t just let him die. I don’t think we really have a choice here. I think he has to stay until we rendezvous with Earth.” Her jaw was set. Her mind was made up.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Abraham could never live with himself if he didn’t protest the decision. He understood—he knew her gentle heart would never condemn a life, but he had to protest.
Charlene chewed on her lip. “I know, but there’s nothing else we can do. We’re just going to have to work it out in the meantime.”
Abraham sighed and hoped she was right.
THEO
CHICAGO REGIONAL HOSPITAL, CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA
SEPTEMBER 2, 2232
Theo had never felt more useless than he did sitting in Hadley’s hospital room. This time, Arrenstein didn’t send him away, but there was nothing he could do. Theo hadn’t wanted to leave Hadley in the cave that day, but never would he have imagined seeing her again under these circumstances.
He wanted to sleep. They’d been up all night, even before their sudden departure. Somehow, Hadley was the only one able to sleep. She had some of the most graphic injuries Theo had ever personally seen, and from what he could tell, she was a genuinely good person who didn’t deserve that.
Not to mention Rowan was dead. Theo couldn’t muster up a great deal of sadness—they’d hardly been friends—but Hadley and Mable had cared about him, and in his way, Rowen had taken care of them. In that, they were alike. Theo wondered if he would ever have to give his life to keep them safe. Would he have the courage to?
Theo and Dr. Arrenstein sat in two chairs brought in from the hall, placed by the door to be out of the way. Mable sat at the foot of the bed like a mother with a sick child.
Theo realized that wasn’t too far from the truth.
Whispering so as not to wake Hadley, Theo asked, “Can I talk to you in the hall?”
“Not now.” Mable didn’t even look at him.
“Just for a minute. It’ll be quick, I promise. She’s sleeping. Dr. Arrenstein will watch her.”
Mable inhaled and climbed off the bed without moving the bedding at all. Theo walked to the door and held it open as she trudged after him. Her half head of hair was tied low on her neck, shimmering with day-old oil.
“What do you want?” she crossed her arms. Her eyes were little more than slits.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Mable’s lip quivered, and her eyes searched the corridor, like she might find the answer somewhere. “I’m fine. Just tired.” He knew for her to admit it meant she was far worse than he’d ever known her to be.
“I don’t mean that. I mean, are you okay? She looks terrible, and I know you—”
Theo didn’t say another word. Mable covered her face with both hands and lowered her head as she started to cry. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. In fact, he’d wanted to make her feel better. But now that they were here, with her crying, he didn’t know what to do.
So Theo wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He realized for the first time how small she was, how narrow her frame. It was easy to encircle her inside his arms.
And much to his shock, she gave in easily. Mable collapsed forward against his chest and cried, never moving her hands from her face. Her breath was hot against his shirt, and her shoulders shook with silent sobs, but Theo didn’t care a bit. In fact, he almost liked it. He liked to be the one she trusted with this moment.
So he didn’t stop it. He let Mable cry as long as she needed. After a while, her hands snaked around his neck, and she buried her face in the space between her arm and his chest. He squeezed her tight against him, offering any support she needed. He knew this was hard for her.
That’s how they were when Arrenstein opened the door to say something but only stopped and stared. Theo waved him off and watched Arrenstein close the door to leave them be.
And then came the big inhale, when Mable gained control over her breathing. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stepped back and wiped at her ruined face.
“It’s fine,” he told her, and he meant it.
Her other hand smoothed over the wet smear on the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry, I—” She must have given up after that. She didn’t have anything to say.
Theo put a hand around each of her shoulders. “Hey, you don’t have to be sorry. I know you love her.”
Mable wiped at her face again. “I thought Scholars didn’t believe in love,” she said with a half-smile. Theo realized she was teasing him.
“I’m not a Scholar, remember?”
“Fair enough.” She looked up at him. “Do I look awful?”
Since when did Mable care about how she looked?
Theo smiled and nodded. “Pretty rough. I can stall Arrenstein if you want to go get cleaned up.”
Mable laughed a little. “Okay. Thanks.” She snuck off down the hall as Theo returned to his seat in Hadley’s room.
“Everything all right?” Dr. Arrenstein asked. His eyes were wide with keen interest.
“Yeah, I think so. She’s just upset. You know, we figured something out, right before we got your ecomm.”
Dr. Arrenstein nodded and listened with measured interest. Theo couldn’t decide which he was more concerned about: Mable or the bugs.
SILAS
CHICAGO REGIONAL HOSPITAL, CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA
SEPTEMBER 2, 2232
At first, Silas didn’t pay much attention to Kaufman’s rambli
ngs. A hospital room was hardly the time or place to hash out details about bugs. But the longer Kaufman talked, the more Silas heard.
“When Mable opened the jar, the bug broke down in seconds. It looked like an oxidation reaction.”
“She opened a jar?” Silas closed his eyes and sighed. Keeping Maggie in line was like herding cats. He was in no position to humor her whims.
Kaufman confirmed before continuing, telling Silas about the oxidation reaction, the metals in the bugs, the iron.
“But the bugs aren’t metal. Quincy tested their genes, which are abnormal, but still. They’re biological.” It was a ridiculous notion.
“Then why do they have thirty seven percent iron composition? Granted we could only test one that had already decomposed, so the ratio might be slightly modified, but that’s entirely too high for an organism. Humans have 0.00067 percent iron, and it’s a major component of the hemoglobin in our blood.”
Silas shot Kaufman a look, evaluating his features for any sign of humor. It had to be a joke.
As he feared, Kaufman looked dead serious.
“Could the ratio be that far off? I mean, it was dead and in a jar of liquid for years. Couldn’t—”
Kaufman shook his head. “We weighed each jar with the full bug still inside, to get an average. Then we weighed another jar of only liquid. We used the average bug mass to calculate the percentage. It’s as close as we can get without having an actual bug to weigh.”
Silas would have to think about that. Bugs made of metal? What were the implications of that? It was so preposterous they hadn’t even considered such a thing, but at this point, he couldn’t turn down viable options.
He would have liked time to think about it, but before he’d even started, Maggie opened the door.
Her eyes were red-rimmed. Her cheeks were puffy.
She’d been crying.
It killed him to see her so affected, but he understood. Hadley had done to her what she’d done to him.
And she’d discussed it with Kaufman. That was good, he knew. They needed to be close, to trust each other in dire circumstances.
That didn’t mean he liked it.
She stood in front of them and spoke softly but with conviction. “We need to take her back to CPI.”
Silas scoffed. “There’s no way.” Nick would eat him alive.
“Look what they did to her,” Maggie motioned toward the girl on the bed. “We can’t just send her back.”
“What happened, Maggie? You haven’t exactly been forthcoming with details.” Silas clasped his hands together and waited for the explanation.
Maggie crossed her arms. “I made promises that I couldn’t keep.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I had a job to do, but you came and plucked me out of the world.”
“What was the job?”
“A diode.”
“Can you give it to them?”
Maggie huffed and crossed her arms. “No, it doesn’t work like that. She’ll want me to stay. Look what she did to Hadley just to get me to come back.”
“Who wants you to come back?”
“Does it matter?”
“Matters to me.” Silas wouldn’t hear any discussion of Hadley at CPI without the full story.
“Her name’s Katherine. She’s pretty much the boss of the Root. You know, she runs everything, behind the scenes.”
Maggie’s story was starting to come together, but he was sure he didn’t like it. “So you told this Katherine you’d get this diode, and when you didn’t, she killed your friend and injured the other?”
“Right, and if you send her back there, they’ll kill her just to make a point. She has to come with us.”
It made a certain sense, as much as he hated to admit it.
“A few weeks ago, you joined up with CPI to prevent her from joining. Now you’re asking to bring her in?”
“Yes. I am.”
That didn’t change the facts. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m on thin ice as it is.”
Maggie’s mouth set firm. “You’re the director. You can do whatever you want.”
Silas shook his head. “No, I can’t. I’ve been cleaning up your messes and vouching for you when you break the rules. If I pull any more stunts, Nick’ll blow the whistle on me.” He knew it wasn’t fair to blame her, but it was what it was. She played her part, and now they were both stuck.
“What are you saying? You’re just going to send her back? If that’s the case, then count me out. I’m going with her.” Maggie darted away from them and returned to Hadley’s bedside. This time, she crawled into the bed and lay beside her.
Silas wasn’t finished with their discussion, but he could sense that he would get no further with Maggie until she calmed down.
“Can I say something?” Kaufman whispered.
“What?” Silas snapped back.
“Hadley’s smart, she was a Scholar. I think she would have gone Artisan, but that doesn’t mean she’s not capable of contributing. I think if she wasn’t Mable’s friend, you wouldn’t hesitate to recruit her. You already tried,” Kaufman said as he leaned back in his chair.
Trouble was, Silas couldn’t decide if he was right.
MICHAEL
LRF-AQ
SEPTEMBER 3, 2232
The galley was busy for the usual morning rush. Some three thousand Scholars all needed to eat a healthy dose of nutritional provisions before the start of their day. Maybe one of them would have a major discovery today.
“Good morning, Director. What’ll it be today?”
On the other side of the line, Michael spotted Jeremy Bruce, one of the Craftsman support staff. He didn’t have the genetically engineered features of Scholars, but by other standards, he was a good guy. “Good morning, Jim. I’ll have the peach. How’s the wife?”
“She’s great, sir. Just started helping out over at LSS. I think she’s interested in a transfer if a position becomes available, if that suits the LRF of course.” Jim handed over the bowl of peach-flavored provisions and smiled.
“I don’t see why that would be a problem. Have her put in a formal request when she’s ready, and I’ll take care of it.” Michael didn’t bother finding a seat to eat. Instead, he shoved in his provisions in heaping spoonfuls before retreating back to his office. He liked interacting with the support staff, a nice change of pace from the constantly robotic Scholars, but, nonetheless, he had work to do.
Only he couldn’t focus. Not anymore. Not since he’d learned the truth about the bugs. The more he thought about it, the more it bothered him.
Tucked behind his desk, Michael let his head fill with questions.
Parasitic bugs? Brain-eating organisms in his facility? Living amongst them and stealing their best?
How long had this been going on? Had the previous director known? Had anyone?
And why hadn’t he? Why was this kept from him?
He tried to focus on his duties, but the questions continued to pour in—he couldn’t keep them away.
Then, Abigail flew into his room. Her heels stomped as she raced toward him, hair flowing behind her. “We have an emergency. Ares Colony.” Her tone was all business.
“What kind of emergency?” All manners of things went wrong with colonies. Colonists frequently died of famine or disease or other pedestrian causes, but that was the whole point. Colonies were designed to succeed or fail based on their predetermined parameters. They were for data-collection and nothing more.
Ares was the first colony on Mars, but otherwise, it was no different. He couldn’t think of anything that would constitute an emergency.
Instead of answering, Abigail pushed his tablet to the side and planted her own at the center of the desk. A holographic display filled the air between them. The vid looked to be security footage, a green-clad man walking down the corridor of some sort of facility, one he assumed to be Ares.
“He’s a mine
r from the Martian Mining Corp.”
“How did he get there?” Michael watched the green man walk to the end of the hall where the vid switched to some sort of kitchen area. The man sat and pulled off his mask, his skin darker than even Michael’s.
“Some sort of malfunction in a nav system on a surface pod. His group got way off from the zone, and then he got separated. Details are still coming in. The point is, this is a major interference. You’ve got a meeting with PC in ten.” Abigail stood and crossed her arms.
Michael pushed from his office chair and tried to work up enough energy to be half as perturbed as she was. He didn’t have time to think about a single colony. There were bugs in the minds of his researchers, killing them one by one.
“You’re staring off again. What’s up with you?” Abigail’s heels clicked while he shuffled along.
“Just thinking.”
“Are you shook up about what Dr. Arrenstein said? About the bugs?” Her voice was a whisper over the busy corridor.
“I don’t know what I think about it. Let’s get this done first.”
What was going on with his facility? Things had been so organized until recently. He’d known every corner, every researcher, and every support staff member. LRF had been his through and through.
Now, he felt as if he didn’t know anything. As if he’d been blind for so long, he’d forgotten how to see. And this business with the colony? He didn’t need any other distractions.
The Planetary Colonies wing was located in the center of the LRF. A short walk brought Michael and Abigail to the door where Dr. Ramos waited.
“Thank you for coming so quickly, Dr. Filmore.” The researcher extended his hand. Michael shook it firmly and followed him into the conference room.
The other two PC Scholars were present, already seated and waiting. One, Dr. Travis Earhorn, had hair so white Michael doubted it had ever held color, though he looked to be somewhere in his forties. The other, Dr. Sal Perkins, had light hair and eyes. Amongst Scholars, he was one of the friendliest, though that wasn’t saying much. Still, Michael liked him better than most.
