Migrant Thrive: Thrive Space Colony Adventures Box Set Books 7-9

by Ginger Booth

  “’Course I’ve done it!” Bron scoffed. “I had a regular girlfriend back home.”

  Nico met her on Sanctuary. He wasn’t sure he believed Bron that they’d done it. Some kids bounced back quick from their nanite AI possession. But Bron’s girl was as far gone as Minka, subject to fits of tears, and reverted to playing with dolls. “So, are you like, being faithful to her while you’re gone?” Talk about long distance relationships. He’d have to cajole grownups on two worlds to even talk to her by ansible for a minute.

  “’Course not!” Bron confirmed. “Actually she broke up with me. ’Cause I wanted to go off-planet with Dad instead of staying to cheer her up.”

  “An army of toy trolls wouldn’t cheer her up.”

  “Yeah,” Bron conceded. “Toy trolls?”

  “My sister Frazzie’s favorite,” Nico supplied. “She collects them. We should buy some.” The Denali-wannabe blonde stood by the troll store.

  “I thought you were showing me the high school.” But Bron companionably set off for the toy store.

  “Can’t get in the high school,” Nico explained. “Classes end for the day at noon. Students work half-days. If they work.” This bimbo hanging around the arcade on a dim Monday afternoon probably wasn’t gainfully employed. Unless she was a sex worker. Hm.

  Bron turned his face up to the crescent gas giant spanning the sky above. “This is wild. Walking out under an open sky. No breath mask. No adult supervision.”

  But they’d reached the blonde. Nico hung back a step to see which way Bron broke around her, then went the other way. And he sighed. Her eyes followed Bron, of course.

  “Hey, what’s with your eyes?” she demanded.

  “That’s kinda rude,” Nico countered.

  Her head pivoted to scowl at him. “Wasn’t talking to you!”

  “He’s my guest. He’s from off-world, Sanctuary,” Nico defended. “I’m showing him around Schuyler. I’m Nico.”

  “Why are his eyes puffed closed like that?” the girl pressed.

  Nico paused, head ajar, to consider Bron’s eyes. “They’re not puffy. They came from different people on Earth, is all. My uncle Clay called it Ajun.”

  “Asian,” Bron corrected. “Yeah, it’s common on Sanctuary. Hey, I’m shopping for a – what did you call them?”

  “Toy trolls,” Nico supplied.

  Bron beamed at the girl. “Help me pick out a toy troll for my little sister? She loves cute things.”

  “You’re buying a present for your sister?” The blonde beamed and accepted his elbow. “Sure! This way!”

  Nico sadly followed them into the store. Rather than crowd his friend’s style, he hung back at the dumb T-shirts. He picked out the perfect ones for Sock and Frazzie, emblazoned with the logo for the Schuyler Jailbirds softball team. And he paid for them with his first pay as starship crew.

  He explained this to the cute girl cashier. She rolled her eyes. She didn’t believe him. Then he waited outside while Bron and Sheila finished ‘shopping’ to gales of giggles. Nico scuffed his rego boots.

  Bron exploded out of the shop. “She asked me for fifty credits to go around her flop. What does that mean?”

  “She was working.” Nico set off toward the flop block where he lived, however briefly, when he moved out on his own last year.

  “So can you give me fifty?” Bron wheedled, catching up.

  “No!” Though Nico looked back. He could afford fifty. Sheila cast him a middle finger. No, even if he paid for it, he could find better than her.

  “But that’s how you do it here?” Bron asked. “The girls ask for money?”

  “No! I…maybe. No.”

  “Sex is confusing,” Bron concluded.

  “That’s for sure.”

  Bron picked out adorable trolls for their sisters.

  5

  “Hello, in there!” Ben Acosta called out, climbing the ramp into Thrive. “Anybody home?” He trusted the question was rhetorical. The place reeked of paint fumes. Anyone could walk in off the Schuyler spaceport hard-top. He stepped to the staircase to peruse a ton of new fittings piled there.

  Shiva the AI did a number on poor old Thrive at Sanctuary. Ben scuffed his shoe on the deck, cutting through grime. Yeah, this place could use a thorough scrubbing. He didn’t blame them – they lost their crew.

  The ship’s engineer Remi Roy ducked out of a hole in the wall where the crew showers should be. “Oh! Allo, Ben. Sass and Clay are not home.” Judging by the tools in his hands, he was jointing wallboard.

  “You’re working alone?” Ben trotted up the staircase. “These guys don’t treat you right, Remi. Gimme a scraper.”

  Remi shrugged and pointed toward the tools, then indicated a seam for Ben’s sealing enjoyment. “You are good at this? A captain?”

  “Spaceways is all engineer, all the time,” Ben claimed. He tossed the engineer a quick grin. “Say, Remi. Have you left the ship yet?”

  “No, too busy.” The Saggy strategically scooped the right amount of goop, and positioned himself just so. His hand hesitated at the top of the bulkhead, then completed the seam down to the deck in one smooth swipe.

  “Whoa. I am outclassed.” Ben tried to mimic Remi’s feat, and gave up in mid-wall.

  The Sagamore ducked in and completed his swipe. “I’m lazy. One stroke per seam.”

  “You’re rego good,” Ben praised. He plonked to the floor to seal the shorter joins under the sink supports. “When are you headed back to Hell’s Bells? Or do you plan to stick with Sass?”

  Sass would roast him alive for attempted poaching. But Ben spoke truth. Thrive Spaceways was an engineer’s dream company, founded by and for space mechanics.

  Remi sighed. “Lots to do. Thrive, Merchant. Hull needs work, new crew quarters. Engine nozzles, refit the kitchen, flush the systems. Add downstairs bathroom like yours. Merchant needs everything. Thrive needs washing.”

  Most of that could be under the chief’s supervision, but not his personal workload, in Ben’s opinion. Cleaning ought to be the first mate’s problem. Step one, hire a housekeeper.

  “I’m hoping you’ll stick with us. Just so you know. Cope and I need an engineer. We love your work. I mean, I understand if you want to head home for a bit. Hell’s Bells has changed a lot.”

  Remi squatted down beside him to see under the future wash counter. “How changed? Elise showed pictures.” He sounded thoughtful.

  “Since you left? Everything. Drugs are controlled. No one’s stoned on the job. Some still get high at the beginning of their off shift, so long as they can get straight by the time they’re back on duty. Two whole new platforms. Busy place. Plenty of shared ‘workday wives,’ mostly paddies. Usually four guys to a housekeeper. Real families down on Mahina in Saggytown. Revolution in full tilt these days on Sagamore. They might finish off the aristocrats any year now.” He paused and studied Remi’s face. “I think you’d approve of the changes.”

  “I don’t know,” Remi confessed. “The revolution. I lose either way. My family owned Roy Dome, a hundred clicks from Sagamore Landing. We keep slaves because they are paddies. They need an owner to protect them. Or another aristocrat steals them. But we treat them well.”

  Ben pursed his lips. “Treat them well?”

  “Educated. Same school as me,” Remi elaborated. “Homes, jobs, lives. We live well. Did. I spoke to my sisters. The Roys lost Roy Dome in the revolution. Our paddies are true slaves now.”

  “Stranger in your own land,” Ben acknowledged. “So have you seen Saggytown? The bars? Mahina Actual to see how the upper crust live? Check out the engineering faculty?”

  Remi cast his eyes down and began to rise.

  Ben halted him, speaking softly. “Remi, you know Quire. My Denali gardener. He has agoraphobia. Scared to walk out in the fresh air under the open sky. I think maybe Sass and Clay, they forget.”

  He swung out from under the counter and stood. “Let me show you around. You’re safe with me. I get it.”


  “I don’t know where I belong now,” Remi confessed.

  Ben shook his head. “You belong with us. Until you find something better. Then we part friends. C’mon. Take a night off.”

  Yeah, he was poaching.

  As they headed out, Ben kept an arm around the Saggy’s shoulders to help him across the horrifyingly open spaceport. Even on the city streets, Remi had to stop and breathe a couple times in a doorway to fight down a panic attack. To the dome-bred, facing the vast sky without a spacesuit took some getting used to.

  But cheerful Ben talked him through it. He used the opportunity to get to know the man better.

  And at the second bar of their pub crawl, Remi recognized an old friend from Hell’s Bells. True, he’d experienced eleven years to Remi’s three. But their nanites made both men look 25. That eased the strangeness. The first guy called some old classmates from Remi’s days at the technical institute at SO, down on Mahina visiting wives and kids. Or often husbands and kids – in the years before women on Hell’s Bells, many lifelong relationships were established. They had kids, too, same as Ben and Cope. Ben’s circle of acquaintance of Sagamore engineers expanded. And a grand time was had by all – on Spaceways’ tab.

  Mission accomplished, Ben decided in satisfaction. Remi Roy didn’t need to ‘go home’ to Hell’s Bells. Home and old friends were right here, free paddies included. He could still use one more ship’s engineer. Darren Markley, Sass’s chief for the Sanctuary expedition, made it clear he’d never leave Mahina again. Losing his health-granting nanites for a month on Sanctuary gave a harrowing preview of his mortality.

  Spaceways was still understaffed for Denali. Including – ha! – the first mate who ought to handle recruiting instead of the lead captain. But Ben could make this work somehow.

  “When are you coming down to Mahina?” A week later, Clay Rocha called his beloved Sass. He was staying with Nathan Acosta, Ben’s dad, in his old apartment in Mahina Actual. Her video feed sparkled with static from ring-dust interference. She appeared to be sitting on the beginnings of a counter in the barren galley.

  This whole time, Sass remained in the rings, shaking down Merchant Thrive. While Clay caught up with his son and grandkids, and supervised repairs on the newly re-dubbed Thrive One. For the most part, that amounted to consulting interior decorators and paying the tab. Originally Remi did the work, but now he was back with Sass. So Clay hired contractors.

  “We just reached Hell’s Bells yesterday,” Sass deflected. “They’re running behind on the fuel converter for this new star drive. Just as well. Remi’s earned some downtime at home. Is Ben trying to poach him from us?”

  Clay sighed. “Wasn’t talking about work, Sass. We’ve been on duty for years. When do you take your downtime?”

  “I took a month off dead,” Sass retorted. “While Ben and Abel saved the day on Sanctuary.”

  “Everyone gets a chance to play hero, Sass. Wasn’t our day.”

  “Yeah? What’s our turn, Clay? Earth trivia games? Criminals and drunkards?”

  “Don’t knock it. Job security. Humanity never runs out of thieves, bullies, and escapists.” Clay pinched the bridge of his nose and switched approach. “So the botanical garden has come a long way. New animals.”

  He reached down and nabbed a tri-color tufted guinea pig to pose next to his face. “Aren’t they adorable? Nathan and the kids built a hutch for them on the lanai. They keep luring them in with daily veggies. Practically pets.”

  He turned the video pickup to show off the mission-style pig hutch, with balconies and ramps for the sleek little beasts to scurry across. Clay contributed the current pile of vegetable bribes, not the kids.

  “Cute,” Sass acknowledged. “Clay, I’m no urb.”

  “No, you’re an Earthling,” Clay suggested, reluctantly freeing his plump furry pal. “OK, work. As your first mate, I think you’re unfit to fly until you take some time off to process what you’ve been through.”

  “Screw you. And, let me see, yes! I’m already flying!”

  “Sass, something’s bugging you. Have you thought more about ‘rich Fed’?” The AI Loki passed them that clue from Sass-as-AI on Sanctuary. Clay was rich. Clay was a Fed. But not ‘Clay is a rich Fed.’ Clay figured this meant that Sass never got past her first impression of him as a dirty cop, gaining wealth off his power.

  “You’re still rich,” Sass pointed out. “Urb marshal is like a Fed. Jurisdiction over the lowly settler cops.”

  “For crying out loud! You were a marshal, too! And I was born rich. And Sass? We reached Mahina with the exact same bank balance – zilch. Sue me if I put money away instead of buying rounds at the bar!”

  “Fine, sure, you’re better with money. I never cared for fancy stuff like you do.”

  And still she refused to look at the message her AI copy sent her. Dammit. “Well, you’ll be happy to hear they’ve screwed up the economy royally here. My money should have doubled or more by now. Instead, I’m down to a third of what I had when I left. Sass… Talk to me. Come home to me.”

  She scowled at him. “Clay, I’m working toward the Denali trip. You could work harder yourself. Remi was doing everything on Thrive, while you goofed off.”

  Clay sighed. “Sass, something changed while we were dead. I’m…different. And you’re…I don’t know. It’s like you’re in denial. Doing the workaholic thing to avoid processing what happened to us.”

  She scoffed. “Not the first time we died, Clay! Not the last, either.”

  No. He often wished the last would come, but it never did. He forever looked healthy, young and gorgeous while inside he felt older than the hills, literally. They built these hills around Mahina Actual after he got here. The landscape grading made a bowl-shaped low-grade solar reflector around the city. Sass solved a serial killer mystery in the hills just south of here once, oh, sixty-some years ago. Weird case.

  “Promise me, Sass. A whole week off. Together. We talk. We play.”

  “Is this another of your ultimatums? If I don’t go sky-diving with you, you’ll refuse to go to Denali?”

  She was pissing him off now. “Abel’s talking about bringing three ships to Denali.”

  “Three! Why?”

  “My point, young lady – we don’t need to be on the same ship.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Clay!”

  He shrugged at her. “Sass, what am I supposed to think? You avoid me like the plague. You won’t talk. Won’t visit. Hide in your work instead of taking vacation. You’re captain of the Merchant now. Fine, be that way. But I’m an owner on Thrive One. I’ll stick with Captain Abel while you drive Merchant. Makes sense if you can’t stand to be around me!”

  That finally caught her attention. How he longed for her to want to talk to him without a fight. “Alright, fine! But we’re going to Denali together, on the same ship! I mean, I might have to pilot Merchant, but we live together once we get there!”

  “I’ll pencil you in for the week after next. Seven days minimum.”

  “Don’t –” Sass began, then hung her head in defeat. “Clay, promise me you won’t die during vacation. I’m not sure I can handle that again. It’s… You’re right. This time bothered me like never before.”

  Compassion broke through, and he quirked a sad smile. “I think Cope might be onto something, Sass. We changed while we were dead. Something happened to us inside that AI. Something that transfered back to our bodies.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Clay. I was never inside an AI. Shiva made a copy. My copy had fun and games, and helped overthrow the evil overlord Shiva. But I was just dead. The copy had nothing to do with me!”

  “Is that why you’re avoiding me?”

  She paused arrested, staring into the pickup. “I lost you. I don’t know. Fine. Seven long days. But if you dare die on me again, Clay Rocha, I’ll wake you in agony!”

  “It’s a date, dear. Clay out.” He reached for another guinea pig to cuddle. Why didn’t he ever seem to fall for cuddly wom
en?

  “Ow!” The guinea pig bit him, too.

  6

  “Welcome back to Waterfalls! You don’t recognize me.”

  Finally through the bio-locks on Denali, Captain Ben Acosta studied the elderly cosmo before them in puzzlement. He sat in a wheelchair, with one leg missing in mid-thigh, one arm shriveled, one eye a wreckage of scar tissue. Skin sagged from his chest and upper arms. Ben frowned into his face. Nothing looked familiar, but that voice – “Selectman Gorey?”

  The ex-hunter beamed at him. “Ben! The young third officer returns to us as commodore! This way to the reception.”

  Sass hustled forward and grabbed the back of his chair to push. “Please, Gorey, old friend! Let me visit with you!”

  Ben noted that he could have done that. Except he was never especially close with then-hunter Gorey. Why talk to the third officer when he had the captain’s ear?

  Instead he winked encouragement at Sock. Ben and Sass let the Denali crew go on ahead while they waited for him and Cope. “Do you hear what I hear?”

  Ben pointed left across the vast open dome. Air circulation from the massive fan system helped keep the grueling heat bearable. Though the dome didn’t feel as oven-like as Ben recalled the summer he left. The hinted partitions of potted bamboo or wind chimes remained, and a general dearth of furniture.

  The high squeaks repeated, closer. The boy broke into a grin. “Peeper frogs? And crickets!”

  “Sounds like!” Ben agreed.

  Cope smiled at him gratefully. Eli created the little beasts, which now infested Prosper, to add a touch of Denali home for their crew. The soundscape was an aspect of this alien world that the boy already knew and loved.

  “Here, I’ll show you a trick.” Ben walked backward in front of the child, the group easily keeping pace with Sass pushing a wheelchair. Then he touched one hand, then the other, to the opposing sides of Sock’s face. “I did that to Dad when we first came here. To seed his bakkra pattern.” Ben grinned and played the same game on Cope’s face, this time holding his husband by the ears, hoping to imprint happy-bakkra finger-wings on the sides of his shaved head.