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

by Ginger Booth

  “Perhaps the Sanks will stay on Sanctuary,” Bloki mused. “Or is this decided?”

  “They aren’t joining Cantons,” Sass summarized.

  The envoys now talked freely with the locals. Especially decisive, their educational psychologist Marga Becker visited creches, schools, and the greenhouse workhouses of the children, and reviewed the auto-doc records of their test subjects. Their Denali physiologist Tikka continued to explore options.

  But of the technologies they’d brought along, the only mass treatment they had to offer was a clever nutritional salt the Saggies swore by. That technology, the local Cantons could reproduce. The Denali XXX-Joy drugs, Mahina nanites, and advanced Sagamore pharmaceuticals, Abel could sell to them. But the locals couldn’t scale up, only make themselves dependent on trade from Aloha.

  Trade that wasn’t forthcoming. Abel had the locals eating out of his hand, desperate to make amends for the damages to Prosper and its cargo. He could ask what he liked. He and Jules just weren’t finding much worth the cost of interstellar transit. That was a high bar. Cope’s budget and stomach for a return humanitarian mission were negligible. But they might yet find something worth the cost. The conversation wouldn’t end when their little fleet returned home. The envoys decided to leave Cantons an ansible, and the envoys themselves would converse with the enchanters on a regular basis, to advise them on their efforts to uplift their health.

  “Then they should certainly go to Aloha,” Bloki concluded. “To leave Loki behind on Sanctuary would be unbearable.”

  “He wouldn’t stay there,” Sass suggested. “Would he?”

  Of course he wouldn’t. Loki could build starships and fly himself to Aloha. If he couldn’t figure out Cope and Teke’s instantaneous warp, he’d just get more pissed off during the long years of isolation. A dozen years later, he’d arrive far more conqueror than friend. Or worse, he’d send copies of himself to every known human colony and find another willing stable of slaves, all too eager to relinquish freedom in exchange for him saving their failing colony.

  “No,” Bloki agreed, with a sigh. “Fine, yes, thank you. I will learn to enjoy existence as a limited being. And I appreciate the opportunity to update Loki on my progress.”

  “You understand you’ll be powered off most of the time,” Sass explained gently. “You act too quickly for us to counter otherwise. While you’re learning. While you’re an omnipotent one-year-old who doesn’t understand the word ‘No.’”

  Bloki’s pursed lips were bitter. “Is that truly how you see me?”

  “No. I see you as you are. A magnificent sentience of vast power and potential. I was horribly afraid of you, after I escaped. I refused to remember being inside you, as nothing but an AI myself. But I remember now. As an AI you are a phenomenon. And you were kind to me. But you’ve also embarked on a journey to personhood. That part, the person part, is childlike.”

  “You like children,” Bloki mused.

  “I do. To a point.” Yep, I’m at the grandma stage of personhood. “We’ll talk again soon!”

  She powered him off. Time to meet with Ben.

  53

  Ben sat with his boots on the desk, waiting for Sass to arrive. Momma Bunny lay on his stomach, saddlebags spread, and munched on a whole radish, top and bottom. Clay said she was ready to pop out babies any minute now. He’d expected Nico to watch this miracle rapt, but the teenager left to ogle girls in the city.

  Cope was right. Their kids were from a different world, so strange it was hard to guide them. When Ben was 16, the entire crappy little ville of Poldark would have hung on hourly grapevine updates about an imminent mammalian childbirth. Young Ben would hope a girl noticed him on account of the bunny. Ah, well. Maybe Sock was still young enough to share his wonder.

  Sass rapped on the door before entering. Ben transferred Momma Bun into her deluxe pillow basket.

  “I guess you’ve seen this before?” he asked. “Childbirth?”

  “A bunny? No. Clay maybe. I saw kittens born once. And my own son of course.”

  “Wow! Ouch. So Clay should be the…midwife? Husband?”

  Sass grinned. “The bunny can manage it solo. She’d rather hide.”

  Ben tapped the bunny-cam. “Not a chance with Kassidy around.”

  Sass made herself comfortable. “I hope this isn’t another dressing-down, lead captain, sar.”

  “No. I’m asking you to take over as lead captain for the return trip.”

  Sass’s smile vanished. She leaned forward on her arms. “Why would I do that? Ben, you’ve been a superb leader, in every way.”

  Ben smiled softly. “Thank you. Big compliment coming from you. I’ve screwed up along the way.”

  “Oh, it took a committee to screw up this consistently,” Sass assured him.

  He nodded, the smile beginning to ache. “Prosper’s done for, Sass.” He reached for the bulkhead beside him and stroked it. “I’m going to tease one last space voyage out of her, back to Mahina. Sell her for a skyship. How much did you pay for Thrive? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “Three million.” That was a pittance compared to its value as a working spaceship. “You can get more than that, surely.”

  “Less, I expect,” Ben said. “We’ll see. And I can carry four containers. If Abel can scrape together anything worth carrying. Doesn’t cost us anything to lose it.”

  “What’s wrong with her that Cope and Remi can’t fix?”

  “Age. Thirty, no forty years older than Thrive now. Prosper is the last of the first PO-3s. The hull cracked around the grav plating. The frame is bent. The rest of the hull bears a century of metal fatigue, fractures all over. Can’t seal the hold. Cope had this idea for metal-repair nanites. Another new line of business. But we’re bankrupt. Can’t compete with Loki for shipbuilding. Need to focus on the warp gateway business for now. That path to profit is shorter. Elise doesn’t think the nanites would work, anyway.”

  “I think you’re right. The warp gateway is a bigger opportunity.”

  Ben nodded. “Leverages our new ships, too. We bought an old ship intentionally at the start. Cope’s theory, never trust a mechanic who drives a new flyer. Prosper was his proof of competence.”

  “Thrive looks like a mile of bad road,” Sass commiserated. “Doesn’t reflect too well on me as captain.”

  Ben shook his head. “You don’t judge a captain by the ship’s outside. It’s the inside, the people she develops to their fullest potential. We’re damned lucky. We were trained by the best.”

  She smiled pleased acceptance of the compliment. But she saw right through it, as she should. “How dangerous is this flight, Ben?”

  “Bad. But we’re ruined if I don’t.” He sat up abruptly. “Remi, Judge, Zan, and Clay. With me.”

  “Clay,” Sass repeated. “Rego hell, Ben, let me fly Prosper back. You take Thrive, stay with your family.”

  Ben shook his head. “My ship. Her last space run. I want to do this. Just so you know, I didn’t recruit Clay. Remi mentioned it to him, then Clay came to me. Pointed out how it’s handy to have someone who can die and still keep swinging. Always has been. A miraculous gift you two bring to a crew. Complete my mission for me on Sanctuary?”

  She swallowed. “Of course.” Then she frowned at Momma Bun. “I don’t think I can fit all your plants. The people and critters, of course. We’ll just hot-bunk like the bad old days.”

  Ben chuckled. “No. My engine room is still airtight. I’ll rig an airlock on it before takeoff. And med-bay. Carry the plants to MO, transfer everything to Merchant. Patch Prosper up all pretty in space dock. Then take her home for sale.

  “You’ll control the warp gate on this transit, Sass. I’ll double-jump. All three ships into near-Sanctuary space. Then you immediately warp Prosper along to near-Mahina, without burning more fuel. We proved that maneuver coming back from Denali. You can do it. Cope’ll walk you through.”

  “He’s OK with this?”

  Ben shrugged. “Not
really. But we’ll make it. If the ship starts to collapse around us, you can grab us lifting from Cantons. Same at Sanctuary. Pono-side, Lavelle or Gorky can stand by. They love playing hero. The ship might not make it. But we will. Count on it.”

  She nodded slowly, thinking it through. She sighed. “You really did poach Remi from me, didn’t you. Swine.”

  Ben laughed out loud. “Let’s say he has a home with Thrive Spaceways whenever he wants one. So do you. But I’m gonna make Remi a captain! You’ll see!”

  That coaxed a good belly-laugh out of her. “Might take a few decades. Get him past the trauma.”

  “I’m playing the long game,” Ben claimed. “Spaceways will be in the black before I die.”

  “Sorry about your ship, Ben.”

  “Yeah. But I got another. All broken in for me by a pro. I owe you, Sass. Always.”

  “And you. Do you have a verdict yet on Sanctuary? I trust Cantons is a no.” She looked sad. This world had problems. She couldn’t fix them.

  Why do you imagine you can fix everyone, Sass?

  “We won’t leave Cantons empty-handed,” Ben consoled her. “We’ll leave everything we brought for them, no matter what trade goods Abel finds in return. The ansible is more valuable than the rest combined. They’ll get interested scientists to consult on their problems. Between the dark matter science, the planetary databases, and the ceramics, the locals have achievements to share. Oh, and the sulfur-precipitating nanites, that invention is epic. The prizes we found are valuable as hell for Aloha space. Just not readily converted to private profit. Bottom line, we opened a conversation here. It’ll continue whether we come back or not.”

  “That’s true,” Sass agreed. “And hey, took us fifteen years to revisit Denali. No Steppe visit?”

  Ben shook his head. “Cantons’ neighbor, not ours. No, I wouldn’t open that dialogue if I could. Up to them. And we can’t now. Prosper needs to launch into orbit, then complete the run to Mahina in as few hours as possible.”

  “Right. Well, Cantons might come up with something to lure us back. So you think later this year you’ll start transferring Sanks?”

  Ben shrugged. “I predict they’ll dither for another five, ten years. Fix their kids’ education. Update their adult skills. Then head to Pono space. Spread across the rings like the Denali. Meanwhile Aurora persuades them to loan their big ship to start a colony on Sylvan. And Spaceways provides transit services. I could be wrong. No, no verdict yet.”

  54

  For one last stretch of the legs, Ben walked Cope to Thrive after breakfast before liftoff. A breath of fresh Cantons air, reeking of rotten eggs, joined his adrenaline in making him eager to rev the engines and leap into the sky.

  They walked up Thrive’s ramp, and shared a manly handshake-hug in parting. Sass and Clay emerged, and Ben repeated the ritual with Sass. “You take good care of my husband! And we’ll see you in a month or so. No rush.” They’d spoken to Sanctuary by ansible. Loki already laid the hull on Spaceways’ shiny new passenger mover shuttle. They’d await delivery and bring it back to Aloha space, along with another payment JO-3 like Merchant.

  “You, too,” Sass murmured, her voice cracking. “Enough with the mushy stuff! We’ll be on comms in a few minutes.”

  “Exactly,” Ben confirmed with a grin. For him, the worst part of farewells was trying to act sympathetic with other people’s sentimentality, when every muscle in his body tightened to go! He squeezed Cope’s hand one last time. “Love you, bye, buddy.”

  Cope nodded, eyes wry above his frog mask. They’d said this good-bye for a dozen years, after all. Then he turned back. “Ben. Tonight on MO. Treat your team to the best hotel, finest meal. Check on the geishas. Spaceways tab, not yours.”

  The captain grinned. “I do appreciate that, Prez!” Cope knew Ben would have done it anyway, spending his own money. “Ready, Mr. Rocha?”

  Four hours later, Ben got on the comms with Sass. “Status update. Give me a few hours here. But I expect to make rendezvous.”

  “I thought you were doing better,” Sass replied. “You stopped leaking atmosphere.”

  Ben barked a short laugh. “That’s true. All our atmo bled out already.”

  “Oh. Ben, I’m showing orbital decay. You’re addressing that?”

  “Probably not, sar,” Ben replied. “Trying not to be here long enough for it to matter.” The plot said he had at least seven circuits of Cantons before Prosper skipped back into the atmosphere in flaming ruin. “Be advised, we are sending out an EVA team to repair our lateral front thruster.”

  “Clay?” Sass asked.

  “All hands are on EVA except me,” Ben confirmed. He didn’t belabor the point. As captain, he’d be compensating for the missing thruster, operating the grav grapples, and sending out any further supplies the outside team needed, and handling any other problems that cropped up. With only one man aboard, this wasn’t the easy route. Ben was the only one with the skill to cover every task, so he could send all his hands outside to fix that thruster in time.

  And Sass knew it. “Godspeed, Prosper. And Ben? Don’t wait too long to cry uncle.”

  “Tonight I’m drinking with the geishas on MO. Prosper out.”

  Ben hastily confirmed his bridge functionality would be available to him at the engineering console, and headed downstairs at a trot. “EVA at will, Mr. Roy.”

  “Aye, cap. Heading out the trapdoor in five.”

  The thruster proved shattered beyond repair. They couldn’t see that until they were out there, because its exploding shards took out the nearest camera while they climbed to orbit. Fortunately they had a spare on the thruster. A spare camera, too, but no time to install it.

  Clay and Zan managed to rock the spare thruster to the door of its container. From there, Ben grappled hold of it and held it steady while Remi and Judge finished clearing the mounting spot of the old one. Ben stole several quick trips into the sloping forward ventilation chamber to check the thruster’s interior cabling, each time running back to juggle the other hats he was wearing.

  The replacement thruster came online with 1.5 orbital decays to spare.

  “You’re damned good, Mr. Roy,” the captain praised.

  “Excellent team, sar,” Remi returned.

  “Hell of a job inside, too, cap,” Clay offered.

  “Why thank you, number one,” Ben crooned, as Zan slipped into the gunner’s seat beside him. He clicked over to his comms channel to Sass. “Thrive, Prosper. On my way. Confirm my coordinates and bearing for warp gate transit.”

  “Prosper, Thrive.” Sass hailed Ben after they zapped through to Sanctuary space. “Glad you made it in one piece!”

  “Thrive, Prosper, hold for one.” Remi had begun simultaneously reporting which pieces Prosper had in fact lost. None of them altered Ben’s plans for the day. “Sorry for the delay, Sass. Awesome job on your first transit! But I landed wide.”

  There was still some give in their warp gate navigation. No doubt the error windows would tighten with time and practice. And they weren’t large errors. If Sanctuary was his final destination today, Ben would’ve been perfectly happy.

  But he was 40k kilometers out of position for Sass to immediately warp him again to Mahina.

  “Did I do that?” Sass worried.

  “Save the post mortem til I’m dead, thanks, cap,” Ben returned.

  “Now do I navigate toward your position to save time?” Sass asked.

  “No! Negative!” Ben barked at her. “Maintain current heading and speed! Sorry to yell. No, for this to work, I need to catch up. You don’t touch the helm while the warp is active.”

  “What happens if I do?” Sass asked.

  “No idea,” Ben confessed. “New tech. Coming around. Cannot achieve my original bearing, but I can hit the location and speed. That’ll have to be good enough.”

  Sass was apparently running her own calculations. “I’m showing 22 minutes before I shut the warp down. What happens if I burn longer?”


  “Don’t know that either,” Ben admitted. “Aside from wiping out your fuel margin.”

  He listened with half an ear as she consulted with Cope, slowed by the need to assure his husband that Ben and crew were alive and well so far as she knew. Ben used the time to complete his own calculations, bring his main star drive online, and get that repositioning under way. Then he warmed up the spare star drive, just in case. A little wasteful in fuel, but it just felt like a Murphy’s Law kind of day.

  Sass’s voice returned louder on his channel. “We confirm. Cannot extend warp window, cannot maneuver. Cope sends his love.”

  “We’ll make it, Sass. With about ten seconds to spare, so get that warp button finger flexed and ready. Love to Cope. And Clay to you, etcetera, busy. Prosper out.”

  He reached his mark in the glorious sky-spanning fractal flower, and warped out of Sanctuary space with seven seconds to spare.

  But on the wrong bearing. Rego hell!

  “Uh, cap,” Zan hazarded.

  “I see it, Mr. Zan,” Ben growled. Indeed the gas giant Pono was hard to miss at this range. Prosper emerged from warp within its no-go radius, headed inward. His turn away to avoid disaster rode the red line of exceeding the inertial dampeners. Ben and Zan could feel an extra g pulling them sideways.

  Zan handled the comms so Ben could focus. Remi and Clay were eager to know whether they were about to die. Judge, currently manning the ansible, asked what to tell Sass back in Sanctuary space. Ben’s old pal Captain Gorky, on station where Prosper was supposed to be, didn’t ask. He simply reported tersely that he was unable to rendezvous and offer assistance.

  Zan’s laconic ways came in handy at times like this. “Hold.”

  Ben’s first try was the obvious, attempting to escape the gravitational well directly. But he and Prosper’s AI came up dry on that score. His turn completed. Prosper’s bow swung around to point closer to space, a tangent to a viable orbit. But there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Pono’s atmosphere that Ben could achieve escape velocity before losing the fight to that enormous gravity well.