Reckless Rescue (a barren planet romance)

by Rinelle Grey

  “Rejan!” Marlee exclaimed. “You’re kidding, right? Jenka’s baby’s only a few months old!”

  “Shh, you don’t need to tell the whole village.” In stark contrast to her happiness earlier, she now looked near tears.

  Marlee made an effort to continue hoeing as the villagers in the nearby row looked at them strangely.

  After a few moments, Jaimma joined her. “Jenka won’t ever know. We agreed on it. Jenka was home visiting her mother, and Rejan and I… well, he said he wanted to help… and…”

  Marlee shook her head, feeling for all the people involved. The rules the council made had certainly created some messy situations.

  “You’re not mad at me, are you?” Jaimma asked, her voice small.

  “No, of course not.” Marlee dropped her hoe and gave her friend a fierce hug. Was what Jaimma did any worse than what she and Tyris were doing? What choice did people have with rules so strict?

  Jaimma smiled weakly at her and both girls continued working in silence.

  When Beren came back with another load, Marlee carefully positioned herself down the opposite end of the row, attempting to give them some privacy. They glanced in her direction though. Jaimma must be telling Beren that she’d told her. She’d always thought Beren was happy enough alone, but it seemed it was an act, if he was happy enough to accept another man’s child as his own. She could only feel sympathy. For both of them.

  By mid-morning, the combination of the heavy work and rising sun was enough to make Marlee hot and sticky, and she was relieved when everyone began to down tools. As she and Jaimma walked slowly back to the village, she glanced towards the woods again. This time she was rewarded by the sight of Tyris and Nelor emerging from the trees, a bundle of saplings tied together with rope swung between them.

  When she met up with Tyris in the hall, Marlee asked, “How’d it go?”

  “We’re meeting Nelor at the ship at lunch,” he said quietly.

  Even though she filled a plate, Marlee could hardly eat anything. She tried to tell herself that there was no guarantee they’d get off the planet, it didn’t help. Going out to the Tenacity meant they were actually going to do it. Even if they failed, it was better than not trying.

  She glanced around the hall. Nerris chatted to her mother on the other side of the room. He glanced in their direction, nerves stirred Marlee’s stomach. Were they talking about her and Tyris? Were they considering splitting them up early? Or had they somehow found out about their plans?

  “Let’s go,” Tyris said quietly.

  Marlee gave her mother and Nerris one last glance, but they weren’t looking in her direction anymore. She followed Tyris out the back of the hall then cut around behind the buildings to the other side of the village. Half way there, they met up with Nelor.

  They all paused for a moment when they arrived at the landing site. Marlee hadn’t been here since seeing the Hylista, and she was struck by how different the two ships were.

  Their shape, designed to pierce the atmosphere, was similar, as was the pale grey colour, though the Hylista was far shinier. But that was where any similarity ended. For one thing, the Tenacity stood on it’s end, towering above her, reaching up above the trees. It had needed to be big to carry fifty people and their assorted belongings and livestock from the far distant Semala safely here to their new home.

  It had also been sitting here for twenty years. Vines and creepers covered the lower half and what metal remained visible showed signs of age, dirt, and the occasional patch of rust. Tyris’s expression was grim. Marlee wondered if there could possibly be anything he could use here, or were they just wasting their time?

  Her high spirits evaporated, but Nelor was pushing through the undergrowth to the stairs, calling back over his shoulder. “Come on.” The door screeched loudly as he pulled it open, and Marlee gritted her teeth. Tyris pulled out a torch, much like Karla’s one. He must have brought it from his ship, but Marlee was surprised he hadn’t used it before. The small light made little impression on the dark interior compared to the bright light of day outside.

  “The lights don’t work anymore,” Nelor explained. “No power.” Yet he walked forward confidently anyway. He’d been here many times before and knew the layout well.

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Marlee stared around her. She imagined, as she always did, the time when the villagers had called the Tenacity home for nine months. There was little left now, just a bare, empty shell. Nearly everything on board had been salvaged and used elsewhere. Her spirits sunk even further.

  Tyris stared around, amazement in his eyes. He turned to Nelor. “You mean this thing actually flew?”

  “Of course she flew.” Nelor bristled. “Just because she doesn’t look as fancy as your ship…”

  Tyris interrupted him, “I meant no disrespect. I’m just… amazed.”

  Seeming only partly appeased, Nelor asked, “So where do you want to start?”

  Marlee knew he adored the Tenacity and as a child had often given up his free playtime to follow his father here, or more often, bully him into coming out just so that he could sit in the pilot’s chair or peer into the inner workings of the engines.

  “Um, the engine room I guess.”

  Nelor nodded and lead them through the darkness. She’d never actually seen the engine room before, Marlee realised as she followed them. She’d always been more interested in the living quarters and storage areas.

  The engine room looked nothing like she’d expected. Mostly because there was no actual engine, only various monitoring screens covered in buttons and levers, all blank and dark now.

  “Navigation, speed, pressure,” Tyris murmured as he touched each panel.

  Finally, his hand stopped and rested on a half sized door in the wall, labelled, “Authorised Personnel Only.”

  “Access shaft down to the rocket boosters?” he asked. Nelor nodded.

  Tyris opened the door and stuck his head in, shining his torch around. “You might want to wait here, Marlee. We won’t be long.” Without waiting for a reply, he stepped through. Nelor followed him.

  Marlee waited in the large room, hearing their voices echoing strangely from inside the narrow access ways.

  “The shaft splits here. Left booster that way, right this way,” Nelor called out.

  There was a silence then Tyris swore. “They’re solid fuel, not liquid.”

  “They’re pulsed,” Nelor explained, “so you do have some control.”

  “Yes, but it’s the oxidiser pump that is damaged on the Hylista. I was hoping to be able to replace it.”

  There was silence for a while, then a few quieter murmurs that Marlee couldn’t make out. Soon both men emerged from the door. “It might work,” Tyris said, but he sounded doubtful.

  “You can’t take anything without speaking to the council first,” Nelor reminded him.

  “I know.”

  All three of them walked back across the fields after locking up the spaceship again. Once they approached the village, they split up, and Nelor returned across the field to Brenda’s house. Tyris and Marlee headed slowly back to Nerris’s.

  Tyris was quiet and Marlee guessed what he was thinking. “I’m sure the council will agree to let you use the parts you need,” she comforted.

  “I wish I could believe that.”

  Marlee patted his shoulder. “When do you want to ask them?”

  Tyris shrugged. “Tonight?”

  “Well then, there isn’t much we can do until then.”

  *****

  TYRIS WALKED OVER TO THE village hall with Marlee, butterflies in his stomach. The council had to say yes. The idea he and Nelor had discussed was a long shot, but it was their only shot. If only he didn’t have to rely on the council’s agreement to try it. He swung between being certain they’d say no, and hopeful they’d say yes.

  There was an air of business in the hall that Tyris hadn’t seen during winter. The promise of spring had given everyone a new
burst of energy.

  Tyris and Marlee were both too keyed up to join in any of the activities going on. Instead they wandered from place to place, watching people playing cards and board games, or dancing. Though they filled plates, neither did more than pick at the food.

  “There he is,” Marlee said, nodding toward Nerris who’d finally walked through the door.

  Taking a deep breath, Tyris said, “Wish me luck.”

  After looking at him for a moment, Marlee shoved both plates on a nearby table and followed him. “You didn’t think you were going without me, did you?”

  Tyris smiled. He hadn’t really expected it, no. Marlee’s hand slip into his, and he squeezed back gently and smiled down at her, almost forgetting his goal for a moment. But Marlee urged him on to where Nerris was talking to Yasmyn.

  “We’ve made a good start on the planting this year,” he said. “So long as we don’t get another snowfall, we should have an early harvest.” He turned as Marlee and Tyris came up and smiled at them. “Hello, you two. How are you both going?”

  “Good,” Tyris replied politely. “You?”

  “Can’t complain,” Nerris said.

  “Um, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment?” Tyris asked, suddenly nervous.

  Nerris and Yasmyn exchanged glances, and Tyris wondered if they knew what he was going to ask.

  “Sure, son,” Nerris agreed. He nodded to Yasmyn, who gave Marlee a smile and headed off to talk to someone else.

  “What’s the problem?” Nerris asked.

  “Well, Sir, I’ve been giving a great deal of thought to the problems with the Hylista, and I think I have some ideas on how they can be overcome.”

  Nerris raised an eyebrow. “I thought you agreed that it’s unrepairable?”

  “Yes, that was my initial thought,” Tyris agreed, “but I think I’ve come up with an idea that just might work.”

  Nerris nodded, listening. Tyris felt a spark of hope. “The biggest problem I’m having is the damage to the rocket boosters. The oxidiser pump on the left booster was damaged in the crash. I was hoping that perhaps there would be parts on the Tenacity that could replace it.”

  “The Tenacity has a solid fuel booster,” Nerris said.

  Tyris pretended to frown, as though he didn’t already know this information. “Parts substitution isn’t going to be possible then. But if they’re still operational, they’d have more than powerful enough to lift the Hylista. If I could attach one…”

  He trailed off as Nerris frowned. “Not possible,” he said definitively. “The Tenacity is our only safety net if anything happens here. There is an asteroid belt not much past our planet, and there is always a risk of one hitting us. You should know, having had one hit your ship.”

  “I understand,” Tyris said, “but really, how far could the Tenacity get you? It might make it into orbit, but if a meteor hit, this planet would be uninhabitable. The Tenacity can’t make it to another planet.”

  He watched Nerris closely, looking for any signs that might tell him why they didn’t want to leave. “If this planet became uninhabitable, we have another one nearby.”

  Nerris’s answer left Tyris’s mouth hanging open.

  He recovered quickly. “It’s no better,” he said frankly. “I checked it on my way through. The atmosphere might be breathable, but it’s in the later stages of impact winter. Six months of winter is harsh. Permanent winter is worse.”

  “I’m sure it’s more uncomfortable than this one,” Nerris agreed. “But it’s better than dying.”

  Tyris ground his teeth. “If I can get the Hylista working I could bring a ship big enough to rescue everyone. You won’t have to worry about struggling to survive ever again.”

  Nerris nodded. “If it works like that, sure. But what if it doesn’t work? We’d never be able to put the Tenacity back together again. Or what if you make it off the planet, but not back to the Colonies?”

  “We have to try!” Marlee interrupted. “We can’t just sit here forever, not doing anything for fear of something going wrong!”

  Nerris looked at her sternly. “I understand how you feel, but if we make rash decisions, then everyone suffers, not just you. Staying here is still the safest option. I’m sorry.” His words were final.

  Tyris wanted to punch something. “Why are you so determined to stay here?”

  Nerris raised an eyebrow. “I have no wish to stay here at all. But I’m not ready to risk everything on a plan that has no guarantee of success. You need to accept that.”

  His words sounded reasonable, but Tyris wasn’t convinced. Strapping the rocket booster from the Tenacity onto the Hylista wasn’t a brilliant plan, but it did have a reasonable chance of success. Nerris had some other reason for refusing to even consider it. If he could work out what the reason was, perhaps he could work out a way to overcome it.

  He swallowed his natural instinct to continue the argument, but he couldn’t make himself come up with a polite acceptance. He spun around on his heel and stalked out of the room.

  MARLEE LOOKED UP FROM THE preserves she and Jaimma were sorting through as Tyris came into the kitchen, followed by Beren. “The roof’s done,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag and giving Marlee the first real smile she’d seen from him in the last two weeks. “We can sleep here tonight.”

  Marlee’s stomach warmed at the words. Tonight they would finally be alone. Perhaps they’d have a chance to talk now, away from the others. Or perhaps they would have no time for words. That thought warmed her as well. She turned away, busying herself with putting the last of the edible preserves on the shelf.

  “Thanks for your help, Beren. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Tyris shook his hand. “And you too, Jaimma, for helping Marlee.”

  “It was nothing.” Jaimma waved her hand dismissively. She motioned to Beren. “We’d better get home and let you get settled in. Nothing like having a place of your own again.” She winked at Marlee.

  “Why don’t you both stay for dinner?” Tyris invited.

  Marlee glanced away. She was glad he was getting along with her friends, but couldn’t he have invited them to stay on a different night?

  She silently scolded herself. There would be plenty of time for them to be alone later. She smiled at Jaimma and Beren. “Yes, do stay.”

  Jaimma sent Beren home to bring some extra supplies, and they worked side by side, preparing soup for dinner. Jaimma cut the vegetables, stopping often to absently rub her barely swelling belly, sending tendrils of longing through Marlee.

  She’d put off even thinking about what the council’s refusal meant for them. But now the house was finished, they would have more time to themselves. Had Tyris given up on getting off the planet? Her heart went cold, thinking of being stuck here, being subject to the council’s rules. She and Tyris had twelve months left. One year. Even if Tyris removed the chip that prevented him having a child, could she get pregnant in that time? Could she ever?

  The thought put a damper on her high spirits.

  When Beren returned, he and Tyris sat by the fire. “You must have been a teenager when the meteors hit Semala, right?” Tyris asked. “What was it like?”

  “I was only ten,” Beren said. “I hated it. All the adults were upset, and we spent all our time hiding. The only time they went out was to grab anything that they thought we might need here. They wouldn’t even let me go with them, because in many cases, it meant stealing. My parents spent a lot of time yelling at me to be quiet.”

  Tyris nodded. “Must not have made much sense to a kid.”

  “Yeah, everyone was very stressed out. Looking back, I can see why. It was hard to prepare for every eventuality, to think of everything we might need. It’s not like we could go back for extra supplies. And on top of all that, they were furious about the governor leaving without warning anyone.” Beren’s voice held the far off note of someone reliving past memories.

  “I’ve wondered about that,” Tyris said. “Why did
the Colonies leave people behind?”

  Marlee knew the answer to that one. “They only had one ship. And it wasn’t big enough to fit even a tenth of the population on it.”

  “Why not send more ships?”

  “We didn’t have anysogen power,” Beren said. “By the time the governor’s ship returned to Urslat and sent another ship, everyone on Semala would have been dead for months. I guess they thought there was no point.”

  Tyris shook his head. “They should have kept more ships in port, or at least told everyone what was happening. They must have been worried about riots and people rushing the ship before it left.”

  Beren shrugged. “I guess. But they could have at least sent out a message about the meteor’s impact, even if it was after they left.”

  Tyris’s eyes narrowed. “You said you were in hiding though, and making plans to leave. Obviously someone knew it was coming.”

  Beren shrugged. “Nerris did. I don’t know how. No one told me that kind of thing. And no one will talk about it now.”

  “They must have been furious. They must still be,” Tyris said slowly. “I imagine they’d find it hard to forgive the governor and the Colonies for leaving them like that. Especially when they never came back.”

  Of course. That was it! This was what Tyris had been searching for—the reason why Nerris and the others didn’t want to leave this planet. Or more accurately, why they didn’t want to return to the Colonies. She knew this story. Why hadn’t she realised?

  Beren laughed. “That’s an understatement. I remember all the adults sitting around ranting about it night after night, on the trip here, and for a few years after that.”

  “The governor didn’t have a lot of choice,” Tyris said quietly. “Even if they told everyone, what could anyone have done? Perhaps they thought it would be better for them not to know?”

  “They could have used their ship to bring everyone here while they waited for another ship to arrive from the Colonies,” Beren pointed out. “Maybe they couldn’t have saved everyone, but perhaps they could have avoided splitting up families.”

  “Splitting up families? What do you mean?” Tyris asked.