by Scott Rhine
Toby picked up the flashlight and ran before others could be attracted by the scuffle.
“I thought he couldn’t kill,” said Auckland, nervous.
“Murder. If someone attacks him, he’s allowed to respond in kind,” Risa clarified. She froze the video feed again. As Toby raced out, he didn’t notice, but his flashlight beam washed over a throne-like black chair on a dais. “Look familiar?” asked Risa.
“Part of a stasis chamber,” the doctor replied. “Did any Magi survive?”
She shrugged and resumed the video.
The chase scene cut to a garden inside the bowl of the crown. Red velvet covered every surface. The plant resembled heather with spaghetti-colored stalks and crimson tufts at the tips. His blood wouldn’t stand out there as he pinched the seams of the wound together and treated it. Once disinfected, he coated the injury with a clear Superglue patch. “Seeds from the forerunner biosphere must have landed here.” As he worked, his breathing was so labored from the run and the pain that the interior of his facemask fogged. To see, he had to lift the visor.
“What the hell did he just do?” Auckland demanded.
“Relax, he does it all the time in the jungle,” Risa explained. “Toby can go natural for up to half an hour without ill effects. He likes to remove the mask for the kill during a hunt. He says the filter mask limits his senses. A little grass never hurt anyone.”
Auckland froze the playback again. “No, but the material on the ground appears to be mold or fungus. That puff was something releasing spores. If that stuff grows in his lungs, it could be fatal. I remember a case where a patient coughed up tiny mushrooms for a week.”
Risa wrinkled her face. “Gross.”
“That’s why the pandas didn’t search in the long grass for him—the red dust is a more deadly guard than their spears.”
****
Back in Elysium, Yvette ran to the shuttle to greet Auckland. When she saw Toby hooked up to an oxygen mask, she refused to leave his side. Once the spore infection was confirmed, she promised to nurse him back to health. No one else wanted to risk contagion near Toby when he coughed up the red phlegm. Auckland couldn’t afford even a minor reduction in his lung capacity. The newcomers slept in Nadia and Rachael’s rooms while the two were away hooking up water and temporary power at the two more accessible mines. Johnny stayed on the distillery cot while Oleander was supposed to be out spying on pandas; however, Yvette suspected that those two were ‘hooking up’ in a different way.
During Rachael’s week-long absence, the others built new rooms deeper in the cave system. The plaster was still drying in places when the women returned from the mines. Nadia seemed suspicious of Oleander’s cheerfulness. The power engineer tried to solicit Yvette’s opinion as an empath. “Have you seen the two of them spending time together alone?”
Seen, no. Heard? Yes, but she hadn’t asked that. “No,” Yvette replied. “Excuse me, I have a mission in the kitchen.” Toby lost a lot of weight before he bounced back. To help him rebuild, she fixed his favorite chicken and rice dish for lunch.
Unsatisfied with the answer, Nadia lurked at the edges of the dining hall, plying others with questions. No one would tell her outright about the infidelity. With such cramped living quarters, they wanted the illusion of privacy. Plus, as a former victim of cheating, Nadia was known to overreact. Nobody wanted to be at ground zero again.
On their day off, the doctor, Pratibha, and the Herkemers played bridge at one of the tables, each side chatting about plans for the plantation and bragging about the tournaments they’d won.
Although the dish took hours to prepare, Yvette hummed as she stirred a sauce that bubbled in a pan. The wild rice was steamed to perfection, forming tiny hexagons.
The crew members were drawn into the dining room to watch and smell the air. “She’s making gourmet food again. Dios mío, that’s making me hungry.”
“Half butter,” Johnny, the cook, noted. “One of her uncle’s recipes. Definitely not on the UN diet regimen.”
Auckland whispered, “The important part is she seems to be happy again.”
The Elysium leader wandered in, cursing as she ran simulations on Sanctuary’s collapse. Rachael read the results with another policy change. “No good. Once the crops die, the air quality decreases and people can’t live there. Eventually, the water drops below the critical threshold and our ship is like a submarine that sinks in the San Marinas Trench. The whole shell implodes. The impact in the desert looks like the forerunners flew low and tried to eject just before the disaster.”
Yvette shaved curls from a fragrant block of pale cheese onto Toby’s plate.
Johnny asked, “So, do you think the pandas came from the crash?”
Auckland shook his head. “From what we could tell, only seeds survived.”
“Why do pandas even have fur in this heat?” Johnny asked. “Everything else is almost bald.”
The team debated, and Auckland shared Olympus theories. “In caves and at night the planet is cool enough to need fur. Red insists the reason is probably waterproofing. The natives stay outdoors in the rain and swim frequently. Sojiro believes the L pandas are modified Earth stock and evolution hasn’t bred the old traits out of them yet.”
Rachael glanced up from her computer as Nadia whispered something in her ear.
“How did Zeiss take the news about the shuttle staying?” asked Johnny.
“He didn’t mind,” the leader relayed, “but Snowflake made two of the control couches disappear soon after you left. Only four planners are left. None of you are allowed back into the ecosphere until we pass the test.”
Risa said, “With the environment degradation in Sanctuary, we’re adding another gift per year. Since Zeiss wanted numerals before copper, I slipped that one in. That way, we can have addition next year.”
“They have numbers,” Johnny said. “I’ve heard them. They count up to twenty, and that’s a person’s worth. Twenty people are a village, and twenty villages are a tribe. They can count up to 8000 that way.”
Risa said, “Trust me, math will be easier with Arabic numerals instead of tick marks. Although, we may also need to change the names for each digit place so they can conceptualize larger values. We’re also giving them a zero, which will blow their minds.”
After she pulled the dessert out of the oven, Yvette announced, “There. I made enough for everyone. I’ll be back when this cools. Please leave a slice of the soufflé for Toby.” There was loud approval as people grabbed plates. “But since I did Johnny’s chore for today, he should do mine.”
Herk chuckled. “Repainting the camouflage on the distillery? Johnny was the one sleeping there most recently. Sounds fair.”
Rachael glanced from her boyfriend to Oleander, the tall blonde who he had allowed to slip in front of him in line.
“Wait,” Johnny said. “We already painted it a couple times.”
Risa nodded. “Yeah. It wears off in the sandstorms and has to be reapplied every so often. We’ve all painted at least once. You’ve just been skipped because you’re dating the woman making up the schedule.”
“I think that would be a good idea,” Rachael said, frostily. “It might build a little character. Does anyone want to volunteer to help him?” No one raised a hand. “I didn’t think so.”
Chapter 39 – The Fall
On Mercy’s third wedding anniversary, she woke at six in the morning. She didn’t want to, but she had to report the air and ground moisture measurements along with a hundred other pointless values. She didn’t need the numbers because she could tell the low humidity by the static around the house. Zeiss should be thawing in three hours. She had just enough time to walk to Olympus, shower the sweat off, and change before the meeting. Glancing out the window at the brown of the dying trees and grass beyond the Hollow made her cover her head with the pillow.
Ever in tune to her moods, Lou stirred. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”
“We’re dying. Everyone i
s dying: us and the pandas. Toby’s study proves the outer tribes aren’t having enough births to grow at a healthy rate. They still lose half the babies, which explains why they adapted to have twins so often. Their population should be surging by now from all the extra food. Instead, the independent tribes are like the bees on earth—one bad winter and they could be gone. Toby thinks it’s because the females are only fertile 1 or 2 percent of the time. For humans, that’s the condom failure rate.”
“We’re making a difference,” Lou said, kissing her forehead.
“Not enough.”
“Hear about the man who jumped off a hundred-floor building and lived to tell about it?”
“No,” she replied.
“He told the people on floor 98, 97, 96 . . .”
She giggled, and his next kiss caressed the warm spot under her right ear. His beard tickled her neck and shoulder. Oh, yes. When she stroked his side affectionately, she discovered he had nothing on but his Speedo. His abs still felt like Tarzan’s. Just as she stirred to return his affections, Mercy felt like someone was watching her.
Turning, she saw Stu standing in the doorway wearing only his diaper. The Llewellyn men liked to run around unencumbered. Stu didn’t speak yet, partly because he could communicate most of his needs through the Collective Unconscious. “Hey, big boy. How are you doing?” she asked her toddler.
“Ready,” growled Lou.
Mercy cleared her throat. “I think I’ll fix all three of us some breakfast.”
Stu left the doorway to walk silently to the kitchen. With her eyes closed, she could sense him standing patiently beside his bowl like a pet cat.
Lou groaned from stifled foreplay. She patted her husband’s behind as she reassured, “Don’t worry, the Zeisses volunteered to watch Stu for four hours today while Sojiro compiles the reports from Labyrinth.”
“Last year our date ended at around third base,” he complained.
“Red promised no lima bean incident this year,” she said. Licking her lips, she kissed Lou on the nipple and above the navel. “That’s a sneak peek.”
He moaned and twisted the sheets. “Could we have a lunch date this time? I can’t wait till evening.”
“We’ll see,” she said with a wicked smile.
****
As it happened, Red was dying for full gravity and the sight of anything other than the gray walls of Olympus. She had been thawed every few months and always saw the same boring thing for the day. Red agreed they could escort Mercy back to the farm early for lunch.
When the Zeisses arrived at the house, Red made a point of complimenting Mercy on the décor. Her friend had taken up sewing, and every corner had some splash of color. The second thing Red did was pick up the gorgeous, blond-haired, blue-eyed toddler. Her own child might look like that some day. As she hugged the scamp, she released the scent of bubble gum through the air.
She was surprised when Stu jerked the ribbon out of her hair, causing her tresses to cascade down. The child grinned, waving the prize triumphantly.
“He likes ribbons,” Mercy explained.
“He can already open a bra,” Lou bragged. Mercy elbowed him discreetly.
The couples had a nice meal, complete with salad, soup, corn, and lasagna. Mercy seemed the chattiest. “The chickens love the lower gravity zones, I think because they can actually fly there.”
“What about other animals in the ecosphere?” asked Zeiss.
“Whenever I walk through the low-energy zones to Olympus, I just turn on the gravity generator closest to me,” Mercy said, passing a basket of rolls. If there was an empty spot on someone’s plate, she offered to fill it.
“The effect is like those energy-efficient lights in the grocery store that only turn on when you walk down that aisle,” Lou clarified.
Red wrinkled her brow. She’d never really been to a supermarket because assassins might catch her there. However, Conrad was signaling her to nod. “Sure.”
Obviously starved for adult interaction, Mercy kept talking. “The lizards always try to pounce, but they don’t expect the increased gravity.”
“Every week, one of them breaks their neck. She has a lot of lizard recipes now,” Lou said. “With enough oregano, you’d never be able to tell.”
Red stopped with the fork a centimeter from her mouth.
“Gotcha,” Mercy said with a smile. “Don’t worry. That’s turkey.”
Stu looked at her with red sauce smeared on his face. He didn’t care what his mom fixed; it was all good.
After they finished the main course, Mercy laid out cookies for the guests. Then Lou cleared the plates while Stu resisted being cleaned with a washcloth. As the child reached for a cookie with determination, Mercy put her hand on her hip. “If I give you a cookie, you promise to keep it out of your hair and go down for your nap like a good boy?”
Stu blinked his long lashes earnestly. Red handed him the biggest cookie.
“Suck up,” Mercy said. “He won’t remember that bribe an hour from now.”
Red leaned in to baby talk the happy toddler. “Tell Mommy there’s a reason Mira is your favorite aunt.”
Zeiss pushed himself away from the table and said, “You two get going on your date. I’ll do the dishes.”
“Beers are in the cooler on the back porch,” Lou said, removing his apron.
Mercy put Stu in his crib, gave Red the magic lab coat, and hugged her friend good-bye. “Thank you.”
As the celebrating couple departed, Zeiss commented on a squeak in the front door’s hinge. Together, Red and Conrad washed the dishes but couldn’t put all of them away. Red whispered, “I have no idea how she has this kitchen arranged, and Mercy is an organization freak. Just leave the rest here, and come try out the porch swing with me.”
In the quiet of the afternoon, Red rocked on the swing, staring at the extensive gardens. She worried about all the picking tomorrow, whereas Conrad paced the wooden porch. She said, “Technically, this is our first whole day off together in almost four years.”
“We’ve been inactive for too long. I feel useless,” he said. “I’m the commander. I should do something.”
“Maybe one of those beers would help,” she said, going to fetch two.
As she returned, Zeiss said, “A few of those latticework boards on the porch look loose, too. You know, Lou probably hasn’t been maintaining this place like he should. I know he’s too proud to ask for help, but it wouldn’t hurt if we fixed a few little things while he was out.”
Red sighed, sunning herself on the porch. “You want to spend your vacation oiling hinges and repairing woodwork, knock yourself out.” She handed her husband the key from the lab coat. “You know where the shed is. I need my vitamin D from sunshine or I’ll get cranky.”
Three minutes later, Zeiss called, “Mira, you need to see this!”
She ran, expecting a snake or a water leak. What she witnessed was more horrible—Yuki’s map of the mountain in blue finger paint. “Get out of there!” she told her husband. When he stepped outside, she slammed the door. “You didn’t see that.”
“What? This is important. The Magi have been hiding things from us.”
“Things that got Yuki kicked out,” she said, relocking the shed door.
“What about the oilcan?”
“Back to the porch before something sees us.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him along.
As they snuck by the toddler’s window, the tall man peeked inside. The crib was empty. “Uh-oh. Someone broke out of jail.”
Red laughed. “I’ve heard he does that sometimes. I’ll bet Stu went straight for those cookies.”
The two tiptoed to the kitchen in order to catch the culprit in the act. No toddler. They raced through the house. When they failed to find him, Red let a word slip that adults shouldn’t employ around children.
“I’ll take the front, and you take the back,” Zeiss said.
They split up, each calling loudly. Two minutes later, Zeiss hit t
he emergency broadcast button. “Sojiro, search this grid for signs of Stu. He seems to have escaped.”
“Lou, stop,” Mercy answered, with a giggle. “Hold on. We’re by the waterfall. Lou and I can locate him faster.” She paused, and then panic made her voice shrill. “Oh, God. He’s heading for the tower by the computer lab. Run.” The power lines from Park’s generators to the house were raised eight meters above the road by wooden lattice towers.
“Why?” asked Red, already on the way.
“Ribbons,” Mercy explained, panting as she jogged. Red recalled the colorful fabric strips hanging from the tops as windsocks and to warn away low-flying robots. “Hurry!”
As Red spotted the toddler climbing, she shouted, “No!” She ran all-out for the base of the tower. This was all her fault.
She heard Zeiss say, “Coming.”
Showing no fear, Stu was almost to the top. If he fell, it could be fatal. Mercy wouldn’t survive carrying another child with no doctors on board. Then Lou would off himself. Three lives were on the line.
Red clambered up the triangular support lattice so fast she developed a stitch in her side. “Don’t move,” she ordered the toddler.
He just giggled and went higher. Leaning out over the road, he reached for the flapping pennon.
With a grunt, Red grabbed his diaper from the back. Moments later, she had Stu protectively against her chest. Eight meters was a lot higher than it sounded when carrying a child in one arm. She descended as quickly as possible.
“Careful,” Zeiss warned from across the road. “That’s not a ladder—”
Red heard the crack before a piece of crosshatching the size of a paint stir-stick snapped off in her left hand. Off balance, she tipped backwards. The moment stretched out forever. Calling out to her husband, she said, “Catch us!”
Halfway down, the world stopped making sense. Her stomach flipped. Her hair floated around her for a moment like in Olympus. Zeiss cleared the last few meters in impossible bounds and leapt into the air to enfold her. His side slowly smashed into the wooden tower, splintering several more thin support sticks. Then, they slid down the sloped tower as if they were sinking through water.
