by S. H. Jucha
Mickey was standing with Glenn in the bay’s control room when the transport traveler came to collect them. They were to be the last two humans on Daelon. As the shuttle entered the bay and the inner doors sealed, Mickey received a comm from the traveler’s pilot, and he halted Glenn from initiating the controller’s final sequence, which would allow the remote operation of the bay doors once they exited.
Glenn glanced at Mickey, who wore a huge grin. A tentative smile crossed Glenn’s face, although he hadn’t a clue why it should. Possibly, it was a reaction to the last fourteen whirlwind days. A prisoner for sixteen years, Glenn had finally accepted that he would never leave Daelon and thought he should search out a partner and have a family, anything to relieve the tedium, but it felt unfair to inflict his dark feelings on others, much less a child. Now, it was supposed to be his turn to leave — except for Mickey’s grin.
“Are you space trained, Glenn?” Mickey asked.
“Yes, I led a team constructing starship hulls,” Glenn replied.
“My friend, you now work for me,” Mickey replied, throwing a meaty arm around the slender Méridien.
“I’m pleased to contribute in any manner I can, Mickey. What will we be doing?”
“The details are a secret for now, but suffice to say, you’ll be assisting me building starships of all sorts.”
This time Glenn matched Mickey’s grin.
The two men watched the transport traveler empty of individuals ensconced in Haraken environment suits, the Méridien’s technologically advanced equivalent of New Terran extravehicular activity (EVA) suits.
Via his implant, Glenn identified it was SADEs who wore the suits. “Looks like we’re stripping this place,” he said to Mickey.
“Yep,” Mickey replied.
The two men donned the environment suits the SADEs brought, and, when everyone was ready, Glenn opened the bay to vacuum and powered down the control room. With hours of air available to them from their tanks, the two humans and the SADEs cleared the bay of every valuable component they could load. There was still a great deal of raw materials left in the bay when Mickey called a halt to the process and ordered everyone aboard.
When the ship sealed and air returned to the main cabin, Glenn, seated on a pile of equipment, turned toward a bulkhead and opened his faceplate. He wasn’t ashamed of the tears streaming down his face, but he didn’t want to talk about what he felt.
* * *
Alex and Renée stood on the Freedom’s bridge beside Cordelia. They were holding hands and watching a holo-vid, which displayed an image of the transport shuttle, the last ship to leave Daelon, exiting the landing bay. The bay doors remained open behind them.
“Who knew that our SADEs were space trained?” Alex quipped to Cordelia.
“Apologies, Ser,” Cordelia said. “We ensured that their information was quite detailed, and, as you know, we’re excellent at following instructions. Mickey considered the bay’s equipment extremely valuable and requested the possibility of using SADEs to remove it, while operating in vacuum. The risk probabilities were calculated as minimal.”
“But then disaster strikes, and it’s experience that means the difference between life and death, Captain,” Alex replied, challenging Cordelia’s analysis.
“There’s that,” Cordelia admitted. Deep in her kernel, she was pleased to hear Alex’s concern for her peers — not that she expected anything different from the man. But, she’d observed humans change over time, and some of them in disastrous ways. It was her fervent hope that Alex would never be one of those.
“Captain, I’m going to take a traveler to the orbital platform,” Alex said. “Send Mickey to that bay when he lands. We need to collect the remaining personnel and deliver our parting gift.”
* * *
Maynard Scullers and his people, who worked and lived aboard the orbital platform, were signaled when the final passenger and transport travelers lifted from the moon base.
“That’s it,” Maynard announced to his people. “It’s our turn next.” The platform’s three working shifts were crowded into the control room. No one had been capable of sleeping during the last turn of the chronometer.
Maynard’s people were holding hands or hugging one another. The last waiting hours seemed interminable to them. Then, over the control room’s speakers, they heard, “Daelon orbital platform, this is Commander Svetlana Valenko. We’re inbound for your location. Please have all personnel ready for evac.”
“Commander,” Maynard replied, “we’ve been more anxious to get off this platform for the last fourteen days than you can imagine. I highly suggest you don’t stand in the doorway when you drop the hatch.”
“Understood, Ser,” Svetlana replied, chuckling at the image of politely mannered Méridiens knocking down crew to board. “Apologies for a slight delay, Ser Scullers, but Ser Racine has a parting gift to post.”
Svetlana eased her traveler into the platform’s tiny bay. Obviously, it was built to accommodate one and only one type of shuttle, a traveler. When the bay pressurized, Svetlana signaled the hatch open, and crew disembarked to help the passengers load, as they came through the airlock. But the first group of platform personnel to reach the ship stood aside as Alex, OP, and others descended from the shuttle.
“Ser Racine,” Maynard said, “I’m ready to set the shutdown sequence when you give the order.”
“Not on the platform, Ser Scullers,” Alex replied. “Walk with us. I want you to see this.”
While the personnel climbed aboard the shuttle, Mickey and some techs went to work on the airlock’s housing, tapping into its power conduits and rigging up their equipment. When the last group of platform crew exited the airlock and boarded the shuttle, Mickey nodded to Alex.
Alex requested everyone back up, and Mickey signaled the bay lights out and activated the equipment.
“Perrin, Ophelia, and Maynard, if you would be so good as to step forward two paces,” Alex requested.
When the three did so, two bright lights suddenly illuminated a small area on the airlock’s front wall. A monitor scrolled a text message across its face. It read, “We’ve grown tired of this moon and have decided to find a new vacation spot.” It was signed, “The Independents.”
The text message repeated, and Alex’s voice issued from the monitor’s speaker, saying, “Greetings to the Council of Leaders. I grow tired of rescuing those you deem unworthy of your society. It means I have to start another new world … one that will probably hold your vaunted Confederation in disfavor for years, if not decades. Please allow the next batch of Independents to live in a comfortable establishment, and I’ll be happy to pick them up on a semiannual basis. May the stars protect you.”
Maynard couldn’t resist taking out a marker and signing his name at the edge of the monitor. Perrin and Ophelia crowded in to take their turns in leaving the Confederation a final message.
“You ready to say goodbye to your humble abode, Sers?” Alex asked.
The three Independents smiled, and, before they hurried to board, the two men touched Alex on the shoulder as they passed. Ophelia stopped to give him a hug, whispering, “From all of us, thank you. We’re your people, as long as you need us.”
Mickey looked at Alex’s face after Ophelia hugged him. Sadness was written there, as if what she’d said made his heart heavy.
“Freeing them doesn’t make you responsible for them,” Mickey said to Alex, clasping his friend’s shoulder. “In the future, we’ll help many more people, aliens, and who knows what with their problems. After that, they’ll have to take what we’ve given them and make their own way in this universe.
”
Alex nodded his agreement, and Mickey and the techs joined the Independents scrambling aboard the ship. Alex’s mind agreed with Mickey’s logic, but his heart couldn’t shake the impression that he was responsible for those he helped. He sighed and strode toward the traveler.
A quarter annual later, a Confederation liner would dock at Daelon’s orbital platform. A traveler full of newly denounced Independents would be transported to its bay. The doors would open on the pilot’s signal, close behind him, and the bay would pressurize, although the lights would remain inexplicably dimmed.
At the age of 186, the pilot, who would soon be seeking retirement, kept his passengers seated while he exited the ship and sought the bay personnel. The message left by Alex lit at his approach, and it scrolled many times before he commed his captain and shared his view of the display. The delay was necessary because the aging pilot was laughing so hard that he needed time to compose himself. His captain was a strict observer of decorum.
The passenger liner returned to Méridien with the Independents still aboard, and the captain was galled to be the one to stand in front of the Council of Leaders and report he’d failed to complete his duties. “The Independents were gone,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Alex Racine took them again.”
Council Leader Gino Diamanté found himself in the same predicament as the aging pilot. He was forced to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, but there was no mistaking his reaction. While a minority of Leaders expressed outrage, the majority were secretly relieved that Alex had rescued their citizens.
-4-
Experiments
As the passenger travelers unloaded the Independents aboard the Freedom, they were met by Renée and a few crew she tasked to assist her. She instituted the old identification and interview process used twenty years ago on Libre. Bio IDs were recorded; interviews were conducted searching for skills and experiences; and then the newly liberated were taken on a tour of the city-ship.
The Freedom’s spaciousness overpowered the Independents, who marveled at the wide corridors, the enormous meal rooms, the size and conveniences of their cabins, and, most of all, the grand parks with the potential entertainment centers. The refit crews had been careful to ensure the parks with their water filtration systems were in top working order.
Within days of the city-ship’s refit start, Cordelia confirmed the operational capability of her holo-vid center. Then she transferred her Haraken company’s entire database of shows and upgraded the equipment from her own credit reserves. She installed a menu monitor inside the door. A sensor would detect the bio ID of an adult or a child’s motion, as they entered the room. The monitor would activate, welcome the guest, and offer a list of shows with brief descriptions. Cordelia deliberately made no announcement about the holo-vid suite. She waited and watched to see who would be the first to discover her gift to the Independents. Her credits rested on an exploring teenager or child.
Renée stored the interviews of engineers, techs, construction specialists, medical personnel, and other highly qualified individuals on the ship’s controller. Cordelia, Mickey, Emile, Claude, and Pia would scroll through their specific batch of names when they had time and contact the individuals. But there were many people whose skills weren’t immediately relevant and Renée took them under her wing, seeking to acquaint them with the opportunities aboard a city-ship. And not to let the young remain idle, Renée drafted them to help prepare cabins and manage meal service.
Some of the Daelon Independents didn’t have the specialized skills they sought. Those people Renée turned over to Alex, who walked them through the enormous amounts of materials and equipment stripped from Daelon. Because the materials had accumulated during a period of two decades, as the levels in the moon were expanded, it wasn’t readily apparent to the Independents the immense quantity the SADEs transported to the Freedom.
“Sers, this is Edmas, an engineer who works with Mickey Brandon, and he’s the adopted son of Captain Cordelia and Julien,” Alex said, standing next to a 13-meter-high pile of recovered supplies.
“An orphan never had better parents,” Edmas added.
“This is a story I want to hear one day,” said a middle-aged woman, which made Edmas smile.
“And this is Jodlyne,” Alex continued, “also an adopted orphan from Sol and an engineering student. This pair will direct your efforts. The goal is to break down much of this equipment to board or component level, open conduit to get at cable, et cetera. We’ll reprocess every kilo for our purposes.”
“What will be the purpose of our efforts, Ser?” a young man asked.
“Ships, Ser. We’re going to be building ships,” Alex replied. “Edmas, Jodlyne, they’re all yours.”
* * *
“And where to now, Dassata? Celus-5?” Cordelia asked, when her crew and Captain Lumley reported the ships were ready to sail.
“Exactly, Captain,” Alex replied. His app chimed, reminding him of an appointment, and he left the bridge headed for his suite.
Julien and Cordelia took it upon themselves to prepare a generous stateroom for Alex and Renée during the refit. They merged three adjacent cabins, creating a work space for Alex with desk and conference table, an entertaining area for the couple and their guests, and sleeping quarters with an expanded refresher.
Renée shipped their personal items, which were collected throughout the years, to the Freedom. They were now displayed in cabinets, on the walls, on tables, or stood in corners. So many were unusual, one-of-a-kind pieces, and most of them were gifts.
The twins arrived precisely on time, and Alex signaled the cabin door aside for them. He met them in the suite’s comfortable salon, offering them seats on a couch, and Renée served everyone thé before she slipped out.
“I’ve been meaning to discuss something with the two of you,” Alex began. “I want to talk about what happened on Celus-5 … with the shooting, I mean. I was wondering if you have any … any concerns.”
“In what way, Ser?” Alain asked.
“Well, you might be thinking that you could have changed the outcome.”
“Would you have allowed us to search the Dischnya prior to the start of the Fissla?” Étienne asked.
“No,” Alex replied.
“Would you have allowed us to stand forward of you when you spoke to the queens?” Alain asked.
“No.”
“Would you have heeded a suggestion to wear protective material?” Étienne asked.
“Definitely not.”
The twins regarded each other for an instant, their implants at work.
“There you have it, Ser. We arrived at the only outcome available to us. Therefore, we have no concerns for our actions,” Alain stated firmly.
“Alain, you say that as if there was something else on your minds.”
“Well, if Ser were open to suggestions from us, as they pertain to his safety, we’d be pleased to advise him,” Étienne replied.
Alex regarded the twins’ faces. What bothered him was that their pleasant smiles displayed a touch of Tatia’s wolfish grin. “Thank you for your time, Sers,” Alex replied, refusing to take the bait the twins were offering. If they had their way, he’d probably never leave the ship, except to transfer to another one. “It appears the three of us are satisfied with our actions that day.”
Étienne and Alain extended a nod and a quick leader’s salute before exiting the cabin.
“I thought that went rather well,” Étienne said, while the two of them walked the city-ship’s corridor.
“But nothing’s changed,” Alain objected. “The madman will continue to risk his safety, and we’ll continue to prevent his early demise against ever-increasing odds.”
“As I said, it went well. Actually, better than expected,” Étienne replied.<
br />
In one of the rare instances, one twin had failed to understand his crèche-mate. Alain sought to do his duty, as he saw it — preventing Alex from stepping into dangerous situations.
As far as Étienne was concerned, he wouldn’t change a thing about Alex. He wanted the madman shaking up the universe, and he intended to stand beside Alex and prevent the worlds’ entities from stopping him from doing so.
* * *
It was Tatia’s turn to enjoy introducing others to Emile’s incredible invention. Only, by now, the engineering team had made significant advances.
Alex led Tatia and her senior people into the engineering lab, which had grown to occupy more of the monstrous bay. During the refit, Alex had thought Tatia and Svetlana were the only other military persons joining his expedition. Meanwhile, Renée had been busy accepting the offers of many more of Haraken’s military — four commanders: Ellie Thompson, Deirdre Canaan, Lucia Bellardo, and Darius Gaumata; and a small host of captains and lieutenants.
Once Alex, Tatia, and the five commanders were arranged in front of Mickey, the engineer rubbed his hands in anticipation of the presentation.
“What we’ll be showing you are a series of potential shell-type warships. I have to say, we’ve made incredible progress in shell designs with the SADEs aboard. It’s like we possess the most dynamic and powerful processing power in the universe when they link together to solve design problems.”
“How can the SADEs anticipate how the shells will react to gravitational waves?” Deirdre asked.
“They have access to the data collected on the travelers and the variety of sting ship models we tested,” Edmas replied. “It allowed them to extrapolate what hull shapes will maintain the harmonics.”
“Behold,” Mickey said, flourishing his arm. He activated six holo-vids, and twenty-one shell ship designs popped into the air.
“Wow,” Tatia said. It came out like the sound of a soft expulsion of air.
Meanwhile, Svetlana prowled the displays like a carnivore hunting her prey.
