by M. D. Cooper
“Yes, I can see that.”
Isa had worked on the SK-87 mining platform too, a long time ago, in the bad old days of enslavement to the Lumins. She’d made big career changes over the years on Victoria, and now here, at what would probably be her final home.
“Did you have anything particular in mind?” she asked.
“Sorry, I’m still undecided. That’s why I asked to speak to someone.”
“OK. You mentioned doing something organic. Do you mean farming? If that’s the case, I’d suggest looking at Tyre. It’s perfect for farming, and there are billions of hectares of land still available. You’d have your pick.”
“Hmm… I’d rather remain on Carthage. This is where all the action is, right?”
“I guess so. Well, there are opportunities for farming here, too.”
“Maybe not farming. But I’d like to do something outdoors.”
“Have you considered recreational services?”
“You mean like leading groups of hikers?”
“Sure, that kind of thing. It’s a wide area. Marine, land, and air leisure activities are popular, and they’ll become more so as more colonists leave stasis. Everyone needs something to do on their days off.”
“I don’t know. The idea doesn’t appeal.”
“Right.”
Isa sensed the conversation taking a predictable turn. She would suggest a long list of possible occupations one by one, and then Hart would think up an objection to each of them. Finally, when she had nothing left to offer, he would say he’d think about it, and his case would remain frustratingly open.
She decided to try something different. “Have you been out to have a look around yet?”
“I’ve looked around Landfall, if that’s what you mean. When I first came out of stasis.”
“You haven’t been any farther? What do you say to a little excursion? We could take a shuttle to Naxos. They leave every half hour.”
“What, right now?”
“Sure. A holo can only show you so much. Maybe if you take a look at another part of Carthage, something will pique your interest. It would be a start.”
“I don’t see why not. But are you sure about this? You don’t have other people to see today?”
“I have a feeling this will save us both time.” In truth, Isa didn’t know if her idea really would help Hart figure out what he wanted to do with his new life, but it would make a change from the long-winded, circular conversations.
“I’ll get ready, then.” Hart got up and went into his bathroom.
Isa also stood. She walked to the window and looked down into the courtyard at the center of the apartment block. Crowds of children were playing on the equipment, and adults hung around the edges, watching them and chatting. Next week, probably all but a few of the people below would be replaced by others who were fresh from stasis. And another group the next week, and so on, until the Intrepid was finally empty of its millions, and New Canaan was active with human life.
Isa too wanted something new. She was always starting her clients on new adventures, but never embarking on one herself. Her days were spent talking about exciting possibilities in life, but never taking advantage of them. It was high time for her to practice what she preached.
“I’m ready,” Hart said as he emerged from the other room.
He’d removed his stubble and tamed his hair, and he’d changed from leisure wear for slopping about at home into a fitted suit in a fashion that was beginning to sweep the new colony. He was handsome.
Too bad Isa’s tastes rarely leaned toward men.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Outside, the air had turned sultry, though every so often, a cooler breeze would sweep through the boulevard that the two were following to reach Landfall’s shuttle station. An autocar would have been faster, and a call through the Link would have brought one to the apartment block within minutes, but Isa preferred to walk when she could.
In the far distance, to their right, hung the gaseous clouds that rose into space, cooling the planet’s core. They were catching the slanting rays of Canaan Prime, and glowing magnificently.
“Of course,” Isa said, “you don’t need to do anything for a while if you don’t want to. The colony will support your basic needs for as long as you like. You could take a few months to make a decision if you need the time. Though I was assigned to you, Placement Services is just that—a service. It’s not a requirement that you do anything productive immediately.”
“I understand,” Hart replied. “But if I want anything more than the basics, I have to contribute to the system. I don’t want to live in a tiny studio all my life. I want a nicer place. And I’d like to travel and visit the other planets. I can’t do that unless I earn extra credits, right?”
“That’s right. So it would suit you to come to a decision eventually. I’m just saying there’s no hurry.” The shuttle station was coming into view. A wedge-shaped craft was lifting to the skies. It looked like a surface-to-starship vessel rather than one of the domestic shuttles. “When we get to Naxos, we can take a maglev across to the second largest city, Laynesville, and you can get a good look at the landscape. Naxos is more topographically varied than Landfall. Maybe it’ll spark some ideas of what you might do outdoors.”
“Sounds good.”
Isa was glad she’d had the idea of getting Hart out of his apartment. The afternoon was turning out better than she’d hoped.
Though her client had been correct that traveling off-planet cost extra credits, domestic flights were free, and at that time of day, none of the routes were busy. They walked straight through the barriers and onto the Naxos shuttle, strapping themselves in for take-off.
Isa had taken the flight several times before. After she came out of stasis, she’d spent some time exploring Carthage before settling on Landfall as her home. There was already something historic about the place, where the first people from the Intrepid had set foot. Living there gave her a sense of having roots, of belonging, which was something she’d never experienced on Victoria. That had always felt like a temporary refuge, and the memories of Sirius had stayed strong.
During the flight, as was usual with former Victorians, neither she nor Hart mentioned their mutual background. It was an unspoken agreement not to go over the past, but to focus on the present and the future, which were much brighter topics of conversation.
After landing at Naxos, they had to traverse the shuttle station to reach the maglev. Isa was surprised to see that the automated walkway wasn’t yet operating. The structure was in place, but its insides were visible, wiring spilling out behind the safety tape.
“Looks like we’ll have to hoof it,” she said to Hart. “The platform isn’t far.”
When they arrived at the maglev, she consulted the board that displayed the routes across the island. The operational routes were lit, but they made up only half the options on the board—roughly the same number she’d seen two months earlier, on her last visit.
“Look at this,” she remarked to Hart. “Things are moving slowly around here. It’s lucky we don’t want to go anywhere more remote than the next city.”
Hart’s eyebrows lifted. “I would have expected the maglev system to be up and running by now. Maybe I should re-train as an engineer; it looks like they’re short-handed.”
“Maybe you should.”
They boarded the maglev that would take them to Laynesville. The journey time would be twenty-three minutes. Not long, but long enough for Hart to take a good look at some of what the continent had to offer. Isa recalled a wide lake for boating, jet-skiing, wind-surfing, diving, and other water sports. A deep canyon was also along the way, where speed-freaks frequently raced, and a-grav gliders flew.
“Hey,” she said to Hart as they took their seats, “I have an idea. Maybe you could go into forestry. Laynesville’s encircled by rainforest. They’ll need people to oversee it. You’d be outdoors in a beautiful environment most days, and the a
ccommodation that goes with those kinds of jobs is fabulous, I’ve heard.”
“Hmm… maybe.”
Isa turned to the window and rolled her eyes. There really is no pleasing some people.
The maglev pulled away, acceleration pushing them back into their soft, cushioned seats. As they left the station, brilliant sunlight made Isa squint momentarily before the windows quickly cut the glare. The countryside of Naxos opened around them.
Even if I don’t find Mr. Difficult something to do on Carthage, I will have had a nice excursion.
Just as she was about to suggest getting something from the buffet bar, the lights went out. Then the maglev rapidly decelerated, and Isa was thrown forward into the edge of the table in front of her. Cries and exclamations of surprise erupted in the carriage, and a hissing sound came from below, as the maglev drew to a controlled but abrupt stop.
A moment later, the lights flickered on. Conversation became noisy as the passengers reacted to the unexpected delay.
“What was that?” Hart asked. “Did we hit something?”
“No idea.” Isa peered out the window, angling her head down, but it was impossible for her to see anything more than the side of the carriage. She tried looking ahead, with the same result.
“I apologize for the interruption to this service,” the maglev NSAI said through a speaker. “A failure in the track ahead has triggered an emergency stop. As soon as the problem is fixed, we will resume our journey. Please address your inquiries through the Link or via the interfaces in your seat arms. I apologize again and assure you that we’re doing everything within our power to return to our normal service as quickly as possible.”
Isa said, “This is unbelievable.”
“You’re not kidding,” Hart replied.
“I’m sorry about this. I didn’t mean to take you on a trip back to the days of colonizing Victoria.”
“Ha. Don’t worry about it. It isn’t your fault.”
“I have a further announcement,” said the maglev’s NSAI. “I’ve received an update on the state of the track: the repair is going to take longer than anticipated. Your only option is to return to the station, where you may board a second service to take you to Laynesville via a different route, or you may book a shuttle flight.”
The maglev started to move backward, accompanied by loud comments of incredulity and frustration from the passengers.
“Stars,” said Isa with a laugh, “maybe we should both go back into stasis for a year or two. Maybe then Carthage will be operational.”
UPDATE
STELLAR DATE: 11.22.8935 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Landfall, Knossos Island
REGION: Carthage, 3rd Planet in the New Canaan System
That evening, Nathan Hart took a seat at a bar in downtown Landfall. The name of the place had been sent to his apartment while he’d been out with the woman from Placement Services. The message contained only the bar’s name and a time, but that was all he needed to know. He wasn’t in any doubt about why he’d been summoned, or who he would meet there, though he didn’t know what his contact looked like.
He ordered a craft beer, one of the many that were flooding the market as new colonists started up small-scale breweries. As a servitor brought him his drink, Hart smiled to himself. He’d had fun frustrating the woman—Isa—with his vacillations about what he wanted to do on Carthage. He’d been deliberately difficult and annoying, as instructed. He estimated that he’d done a pretty good job.
An air of excitement pervaded the drinking lounge, stronger than the usual atmosphere in places where people socialized and flirted. It was an air that permeated the new colony, a heady spirit that sprang from the hope and anticipation of the populace. Finally, they had reached their home. It was the start of the rest of their lives.
Hart took a sip of the yeasty brew, and scanned the room. Though the evening was young, the bar was already half full. A group of men barely old enough to be drinking took up one corner, from where they watched the socializers and tried to catch the gaze of potential mates. The men were nervous and animated, downing their drinks too fast. In another corner, a couple canoodled. The largest table, which was squeezed against a wall to make room for a small dancing area, was taken by five older men and women; the group looked like co-workers, judging by their formal clothes and friendly-but-not-flirtatious behavior. Finally, a handful of men and women sat on barstools at the bar, where they were striking up shy conversations. Servitors glided between the patrons, the mild hum of their progress drowned out by music.
None of those present was Hart’s contact. He was sure of it. These were just ordinary Carthaginians. The person he was about to meet had to be someone significant in the government or military to override the security to his apartment, and leave an untraceable note. Though the person might disguise themselves to look like an average member of society, there was always something in the attitude and bearing of people high up in the hierarchy that set them apart.
Hart drank his beer, ordered another, and waited.
In the end, it was the way the figure met his gaze as soon as they entered the bar that told Hart this was the person he was there to meet. Myrrdan’s agent.
He put down his glass as the figure approached. His heart began to race. The afternoon’s events had been a frippery, a distraction compared to what was to come. Now he would learn the true purpose of his presence on Carthage.
As the person sat down, the conversation and noise of the bar became dulled and muffled, as if heard through thick wads of cloth. Hart’s view of his surroundings also became blurred and distorted.
As Hart looked about, confused, the person said, “No one will be able to hear us or read our lips.” Myrrdan’s agent had activated a privacy barrier around them.
“Won’t they notice that we look strange?”
“No. They see us as we appear. Please, listen carefully. You have been brought to New Canaan to steal the picotech technology. You are aware of it?”
“Of course. I know about it, but I don’t know much, only the same as everyone else—that it helped us win the Battle of Victoria. I should have guessed that’s what I have to do, but if that’s the case, why was I told to leave the field of security? It would have been easier for me to access the technology if I was working within my usual profession.”
“No. You’re mistaken. The cover we have for you is better. You have the perfect excuse to be in odd places at odd times, as you wander Carthage to find your role in life.”
“I understand, but wouldn’t it have been better for me to keep a low profile? Why attract attention by asking for a private consultation?”
“It’s simple. No one would expect a spy to draw attention to themselves. You will be hiding in plain sight. Listen. The picotech is somewhere on this planet, but that’s all I’ve been able to discover, despite my high security clearance. They are keeping it under extremely tight wraps. The technology could be stored anywhere. However, I don’t believe it is currently in use. Too many interested parties are watching the system; it’s safer not to flaunt it. But my guess is that, at some point, the temptation to use picotech will become too great. I will be waiting and watching for the signs. As soon as I have a lead, I’ll be in contact again to tell you where to go and what to do. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Until then…?”
“Until then, you are to continue to be a thorn in the side of Placement Services, and be ready to go wherever I tell you at a moment’s notice.”
“Understood.”
Myrrdan’s agent began to stand.
“Wait—”
“What?” Irritation suffused the figure’s tone.
“After I steal the picotech? What’s next? What can I expect?”
“What do you mean exactly?”
“Am I to remain in New Canaan forever? I was wondering…” Hart swallowed. The features of the agent were creasing into distaste. “Will I ever meet him? I have many ideas to put forward. I want
to do everything I can to…to…” He lapsed into silence.
Ambition burned within him. He wanted to be in the agent’s position. He wanted to be important to Myrrdan, valued, not just a tool to be used. Yet he feared that if he spoke his thoughts aloud, they would sound like the pipings of an ignorant child to a warrior.
The agent’s lip lifted in a sneer. “Perhaps the time may come when Myrrdan will want to know you better, if you are successful in this task.” The figure stood and strode from the bar.
As the door closed behind the agent, the barrier separating Hart from the rest of bar lifted. Sound surged in, and people became distinct to him once more.
Hart realized that he couldn’t remember the agent’s face or appearance. He didn’t even know if he’d met a man or a woman. Like the faces of the bar’s patrons while the barrier had been active, the visage of the agent in his memory was blurred.
He lifted his beer, but his hand trembled violently, and the liquid slopped out of the half-full glass. He set it down. Suddenly, the noise in the bar seemed to increase. It blared in his eardrums. The colors were too bright, the smell of his beer too strong. He fought the urge to vomit.
Somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind, the personality that had been Nathan Hart fought to free itself from Myrrdan’s control.
BLUEPRINTS
STELLAR DATE: 11.24.8935 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Landfall, Knossos Island
REGION: Carthage, 3rd Planet in the New Canaan System
The plans that detailed the building of the infrastructure of Carthage were complex, yet they were also common sense. Originally crafted to be used in New Eden, they had been altered to account for the different topography and climate of Carthage, but the principle was the same. For the colonists to be able to live, work, and play on their new planet, they needed residences, public buildings, shops, roads, maglevs, bridges, air and spaceports, seaports, space stations, and every other construction that supported a functioning society. They also needed, at a bare minimum, clean water and power.
