The Belt: The Complete Trilogy

by Gerald M. Kilby

  “Be that as it may,” replied the avatar, “you are to return to Europa immediately.”

  “But why? What’s so important that we have to drop everything and hightail it out of here?” Dr. Stephanie Rayman, the mission’s medical doctor, stood up and gesticulated at the avatar.

  “We have a new mission that requires the Hermes. That is all I can say for the moment.”

  Scott looked around at the assembled crew. Their faces all displayed various levels of incredulity.

  “Why do they want us to go back? It doesn’t make any sense,” said Steph. She posed this question to the assembled crew members rather than the avatar.

  “It doesn’t matter—they just do. So, we might as well get on with it,” said Scott, sitting down in the commander’s chair. “Aria, how soon can we be ready to leave orbit?”

  “Approximately four hours and thirty-two minutes. We will need to execute a fifty-four-hour burn thereafter. That will bring us to Europa in approximately three weeks.”

  Scott swung his chair around to face the crew. “Okay, we need to get ready. I want everything locked down good and tight before the burn. Aria, can we get all droids to assist?”

  “Will do, Commander.”

  The assembled crew let a collective groan. Nobody relished the thought of dropping a mission that had taken so much time and work to put together. That, and the thought of such a long acceleration burn. But there was no way around it: Europa wanted them back as quickly as possible, and that was that.

  “Looks like we won’t be testing that shuttle rebuild for a while.” Cyrus glanced over at Scott. He was beside the holo-table, tapping icons.

  “No, not until we’re back in orbit around Europa. I was looking forward to taking it for a spin after all the work we put into it.”

  “Me too,” said Cyrus, as a 3D rendering of the outer solar system blossomed from the holo-table. He stepped back to see it better. “Aria, please plot our projected course.”

  The projection shifted and rotated. A thin, curved line scribed itself through the rendering, showing the proposed path of the Hermes from its current location near Enceladus, one of Saturn’s smaller moons, to Jupiter’s fourth-largest moon, Europa.

  “Three weeks,” said Miranda, looking over at the projection.

  Scott shifted in his chair, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Ah, it’ll be over before you know it.”

  “How did he know?” Miranda kept her gaze fixed on the projection.

  “How did who know?” said Scott.

  Miranda shook her head and looked up at him. “Oh, nothing. It’s not important.”

  “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She stared at the floor for a second. Yeah, I think I just have, she thought.

  3

  Fracture

  Scott grabbed a coffee from the machine and glanced around the Hermes’ canteen for a place to sit—somewhere quiet, where he could be alone with his thoughts. But the canteen was already busy; several of the science crew were eating, recovering their strength after the long deceleration burn that had taken them close to orbit around Europa. They kept to themselves, and Scott seldom engaged socially with them, mainly because, being scientists, their conversations tended to go way over his head. He sat at a table near the observation window, took a sip of his coffee, and gazed out at the expanse.

  After an uneventful three-week journey from Enceladus, they would arrive at their destination in less than five hours. And then what? he thought. The Council of Europa had provided scant information as to the reasons for their recall, and even less regarding the “new mission” alluded to in Goodchild’s initial message. Even Aria seemed to be in the dark, or maybe it just wasn’t saying. Which seemed strange, as ever since they had embarked on the mission to survey the moons of Saturn, Aria and the great mind that resided in the citadel on Europa, Solomon, had become best buddies. But either Solomon was keeping Aria in the dark, or it had instructed the ship’s QI to say nothing to the crew. The upshot of all this subterfuge was a lot of speculation, rumor, and ultimately mild paranoia.

  Scott’s musings were disrupted by Cyrus sliding himself into the seat opposite. He glanced furtively around and leaned in. “Guess what?”

  Scott cocked his head. “A black hole has opened up on the far side of Jupiter, and we’re all being sucked in?”

  Cyrus laughed. “Ah, no, nothing that dramatic.” But before he could say more, he caught sight of Steph, who stood by the coffee machine. He waved her over.

  She arrived holding a dainty expresso. Cyrus slid to give her room to sit down.

  “Did you tell him?” said Steph.

  “Not yet.” Cyrus huddled in.

  “So, what’s the big secret?” Scott was getting impatient.

  “No secret, it’s just I was checking out the ships currently in orbit around Europa, and get this: one of them is Martian.” Cyrus paused for effect.

  “So?” Scott couldn’t see where this was going.

  “So guess whose ship it is?”

  “Santa Claus?”

  “Xenon Hybrid.”

  “Who?” said Scott.

  “The president of Mars,” said Steph. “He’s quite an enigmatic character.”

  Scott searched the inner recesses of his brain, looking for any data he might have stored away. “Is that the clone guy?”

  “Seriously, Scott, do you know anything about what goes on in the System?”

  He shrugged and gave a broad smile. “I’ve been out of circulation for a while, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “They say he’s an amalgam of several clones, hence the name ‘Hybrid.’ And he’s reputed to be over 150 years old.”

  “Okay, so he’s an old, weird dude from Mars. So what?”

  “So, what’s he doing here? That’s the question,” said Cyrus. “Firstly—and you need to understand this—Xenon does not leave Mars unless it’s for something very important. The guy is a national treasure back there. When he goes somewhere, it’s a big deal.”

  “You think this has something to do with us being recalled?” said Scott, sipping his coffee.

  “It has to be.” Cyrus leaned in. “Apparently, he and Goodchild have been deep in discussions for the last month.”

  “Mars, eh?” Scott mused. “Maybe they want to contract Europa to do some scientific research for them, and somehow that involves us and the Hermes.”

  “That would seem to be the case,” said Steph. “After all, since the refit two years ago, the Hermes is one of the top research vessels in operation in the System.”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Cyrus, “but then I checked out all the other ships in orbit. One is from Ceres, and one is from Neo City. Both of these ships brought high-level government types.”

  “So, there’s a big pow-wow going on,” said Scott.

  “Looks like it. But the strange thing is, there’s also a privately-owned ship from the VanHeilding family in orbit.”

  “Who are they?” said Scott.

  “You really do need to get out more, Scott,” said Steph. “They are one of the Seven.”

  Cyrus nodded. “Yeah.”

  Scott looked blank. He was beginning to feel very inadequate in this conversation with Cyrus and Steph, as they seemed to know way more than he did about the comings and goings of the rich and powerful in the solar system. “The Seven?”

  Steph gave Scott a look of incredulity before turning to Cyrus, who shook his head in amazement. “The Seven?” He gestured, as if this simple act was all Scott’s brain needed to finally recognize the name. “As in, the seven most powerful corporations on Earth. Your friends at Dyrell Labs are one of them.”

  Scott glared. “They are not my friends, Cyrus. Never say that again.”

  “Hey, just saying, Scott. Anyway, it makes for a very intriguing situation. A lot of important people getting together, and then we get recalled.”

  Scott sat back. “Well, we’ll know soon enough.
In another few hours, we’ll be in orbit, so after that I presume they’ll finally tell us what the new mission is.”

  “I’m still baffled by the VanHeilding ship. I mean, they’re a long way from their usual hunting grounds. To my knowledge, the last time a ship from any of the Seven was out this way, it was the Dyrell,” said Cyrus. “That would be the one you blew up.” A broad grin materialized across his face.

  Scott let a thin smile escape as he remembered the events surrounding the destruction of the Dyrell. He had breached its cargo hull with the dexterous use of a crate of high explosives. He waved a dismissive hand in the air, “That’s history, let’s leave it there,” and went back to sipping his coffee. “Anyway, all I’ve been hearing from you guys for the last three weeks is nothing but conspiracy theories. We’ll know the real reason soon enough.”

  Cyrus gazed out the observation window. “Yeah, but it’s fun to speculate. Let’s face it: there hasn’t been much to do for the last three weeks.” He turned back to Scott. “Say, if you don’t mind my asking, do you get the feeling that Miranda seems a bit out of sorts?”

  Scott nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s bothering her, but we’re… taking a break at the moment. You know, giving each other some space.”

  “She’s not pregnant, is she?” said Steph very directly, as was her style.

  Scott nearly spat out his coffee. This was not something he’d thought about. But now that Steph mentioned it… No way, he thought. Then again, maybe…

  He looked from Steph to Cyrus and back again. “You think it’s possible?”

  Steph waved her arms. “Hey, you know more about what’s possible than I do. But it’s just a thought. It would explain her sudden need to withdraw. She hasn’t said anything to you, has she?”

  Scott shook his head as the possibility of Miranda being pregnant—and him being a father—began to sink in. He found himself staring wide-eyed at Steph.

  Cyrus slapped the table and threw his head back, laughing. The others in the canteen looked over.

  “What’s so funny?” said Scott in a hushed tone.

  Cyrus was laughing so much he was almost in tears, but he managed to regain enough composure to speak. “The look on your face, buddy—it’s priceless.” This seemed to set him off again. Scott looked at Steph, who was also chuckling. And now he couldn’t help it—the laughter was infectious, and Scott found himself letting out a laugh.

  “You should go and talk to her,” said Steph when they had finally settled down.

  Scott shook his head. “She’s shut me out. Ever since we were recalled.”

  “Just talk to her, Scott.”

  He pursed his lips. “Why don’t you go and talk to her? You’re the medical doctor.”

  Steph didn’t reply, just held Scott’s eye.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll try.”

  It should have been easy, a straightforward task. Go find Miranda, sit down together, and talk. Simple. Except for two things: one, the Hermes was about to park in orbit, and all hands were on the bridge—including Miranda—so there was no way he could have a private conversation with her. They had briefly exchanged some words on the bridge while the crew performed the orbital injection procedure. But the conversation was formal and professional, and he got the distinct feeling she was keeping her distance. Then again, maybe it was just him.

  The second thing was an inexplicable sense of panic welling inside him. It was ridiculous—what was he worried about? He needed to get a grip.

  He finally got his chance after the maneuver was complete. Miranda had left the bridge as soon as her duties as flight officer were finished. She signed off to Aria and rose from her console. “I think I’m done here,” she said. “I’m going to get some rest while I still have the chance.”

  “Hey, wait up Miranda,” said Scott. “I’ll walk out with you. “

  She hesitated for a beat. “Okay, sure.”

  “Aria, take command.”

  “Certainly, Commander.”

  They walked together along a corridor leading to the accommodation sector. Their conversation was stilted as Scott tried to figure out how he could broach the delicate matter uppermost in his mind.

  “Now that we’re in orbit, I presume the Council of Europa will tell us what all this is about,” said Scott.

  “Yeah, it’s all a bit cloak and dagger.”

  “I wonder what the new ‘mission’ is they’re sending us on.”

  Miranda stopped, lowering her head for a moment before looking at him directly. “Listen, Scott. There’s something I need to tell you.” She looked down at the floor again. “I know I’ve been acting a bit strange recently.”

  “It’s okay, Miranda. I understand that you needed some space.”

  “No, it’s not that, Scott. The thing is... I’m leaving the ship. I’m going back to Earth.”

  “Earth?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Scott. I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to tell you for the last three weeks, but I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

  Scott paused for a moment as he began to realize his mistake. “So, you’re not, eh... pregnant, then?”

  Miranda stared wide-eyed at him for a second before breaking into laughter. “Ha, ha... You thought I was pregnant?”

  Scott looked sheepish. “Well, I—”

  “Oh, Scott. I’m sorry for laughing, it’s not funny, really. It’s just the look on your face is priceless.”

  Scott needed to sit down; he felt physically weak, like his power supply had short-circuited. This was not how he saw this conversation playing out. Not only was he not going to be a father, but now Miranda was leaving for Earth, and he realized he might never see her again.

  He looked at her. “Just so you know, it would be okay with me if you were. More than okay.”

  She said nothing for a moment. “I’m sorry, Scott. This not how I wanted this to play out.”

  “Me either.”

  “I was trying to make it easy. I think I made a mess of that.” She leaned in and touched his arm.

  Scott shrugged. “So, when did you decide all this?”

  “I received a message three weeks ago from my stepfather. This is someone I haven’t spoken to in nine years, so I knew it must be important. Anyway, it turns out my mother is very ill. She doesn’t have much time. They’re sending a ship to bring me back so I can see her again before she dies.”

  “A ship?”

  Miranda sighed. “Yes.”

  “I see.” Scott scratched his chin. “So, when were you planning to tell me all this?”

  “I was going to tell you sooner. I was just waiting for the right time.”

  “And what if I didn’t come after you? When would you have told me and the others? Cyrus, Steph?”

  She stepped back, stiffening. “I hate to break it to you, Scott, but this isn’t about you. It’s about me. This is something I have to do.”

  “It’s just... I thought... You know?”

  “Scott, I’m sorry if you got your wires crossed, but I’ve made my decision. They’re sending a shuttle to pick me up in an hour, and I’ll be heading back to Earth.”

  Scott was silent for a moment, trying to digest the sudden change in his worldview. No, he was not going to be a father. He was not about to embark on a new life. And yes, he had made a complete fool of himself. For the last while, he had imagined a different future, and the more he’d thought about it, the more he had embraced it, even relished it. But that future was now utterly crushed. It was nothing more than the delusion of a dreamer.

  “Don’t go.” Am I really going to plead? he thought.

  Miranda moved close and put her arms around him, pulling him in tight for a moment before pulling away and looking up into his face. “This is something I have to do, Scott. It’s not easy for me, either. But things need to move on.”

  “Move on?”

  She stayed silent.

  “So, when will I see you again?”

  Miranda sl
owly broke off the embrace and lowered her head. “I don’t know.” She moved back a step before looking at him again. “I think this is goodbye.”

  So, there it was. He sensed it coming, and now it was out. She was leaving—for good. “Oh,” was all he could manage to say.

  “I have to go. This may be my only chance to see my mother again... alive. It’s my chance to say some things to her I should have said a long time ago, right some wrongs. You know what families can be like.”

  Scott let out a long sigh and nodded. “So that’s it, then?”

  “I think so. The shuttle will be here soon, and then it’s nonstop back to Earth.”

  “What’s the name of your ship?”

  “The Perception.”

  “Very fancy. That’s a VanHeilding ship.”

  “Yes. He’s my stepfather.”

  Scott’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

  “My mother’s third husband. A detestable individual. I can’t stand him or his family, or what they represent.”

  “But he’s like, one of the richest men on Earth. You must be loaded, Miranda.”

  She gave a light laugh. “No, not me. It’s a long story, Scott, and I don’t have time to get into it now.”

  Scott wasn’t sure what to do, or even what to think. Was this how it would end? A snatched conversation standing in the main corridor of the Hermes? “We still have some time. Time enough for a proper goodbye.” He smiled his broadest smile, the one he kept for special occasions.

  “No, let’s just leave it here. Let’s not drag it out more than we have to, Scott.” She gave him one last embrace before breaking off and turning to go.

  She didn’t look back, and he didn’t try to follow. It was over.

  4

  Mission

  A few hours later, a very elegant and expensive-looking shuttle came to pick up Miranda and bring her over to the VanHeilding ship. Cyrus, Steph, and some of the science crew went down to the hangar of the Hermes to say their goodbyes. Scott remained alone on the bridge.