by Ginger Booth
Normally the four space regulars would hop to the catwalk on a flick of gravity, but Spaceways’ principals were clearly after a different sort of gravity today. They climbed the stairs.
“Any last-minute words of warning?” Sass quipped from behind.
Ben and Cope exchanged a glance. “Nothing you don’t already know.”
She glanced an appeal at Clay. He looked miffed that no one told him he could dress up today. “Do you want to run to the cabin and change?”
“I do want to. But I won’t.”
Ben glanced back with a chuckle. Other than that, they proceeded in silence to the dining table. Tikki hastily completed his service, fresh fruits and topping off water glasses, then retreated behind the kitchen island counter.
“Very punctual,” Tarana opened, smiling approval. She stood and bowed, fingertips pressed together in the little prayer gesture Denali employed instead of shaking hands. “You know everyone. Let’s begin. Thank you for delivering our containers so quickly.”
Her voice held a thread of rancor. Ben forced her hand when they returned from the ocean. He demanded she drop all other priorities and get the container platforms built so he could unload, in full and on time.
Sass ventured, “I hope you’ll complete the platform for my containers today?”
Tarana quirked a quick smile. “Not a priority. You’re not leaving. And I ask that Merchant and Sardine – Hopeful – stay another few days. Your trip to the ocean illustrated how dangerous the holes in our knowledge can be.”
Ben’s eyes widened in disbelief. “The gaps in your understanding of this planet? Are the same size as the planet.”
Cope jogged his elbow under the table – the couple sat bracketed between Sass and Clay, facing off across from Tarana’s team. “Liftoff is tomorrow at dawn. Our hope in this meeting is to persuade you to leave with us. Tarana, it is Spaceways’ position that this planet is too much for you.”
He pushed his tablet across the table, with a document displayed. “I need you to sign that, to state that you remain here against our most earnest advice. And that we’ve informed you, again, that Thrive Spaceways cannot – I repeat cannot – return to save your lives in a timely fashion if you cry uncle after takeoff tomorrow. We are not on hold waiting for your call.”
Tarana pulled the slate around to read it. “I’d hoped you might stay, Mr. Copeland. Your work here has been instrumental.”
Cope boggled.
With narrowed eyes, Sass attempted, “Tarana, sometimes I feel there are fundamental things about Mahina that you haven’t grasped. The whole capitalist basis for our society, for instance.”
Clay added, “Mr. Copeland and Mr. Acosta own the company that brought you here. In some ways, a company like theirs is more powerful than Mahina’s government. They aren’t ‘helping out.’ You could not have gotten here without them going to extraordinary lengths, and accepting payment that’s completely inadequate.”
Tarana shrugged microscopically. “No offense intended.” She beamed the document to her fellow Selectmen and skimmed it herself. Denali would opt for fine calligraphy on beautifully hand-milled paper for this sort of thing. She’d mastered computers in order to accomplish her objectives in the Rings. But she might have responded better to a printout on Spaceways letterhead.
She nudged the tablet away. “And the medic, Kassidy? I see you didn’t invite her to the meeting.”
“She leaves with us,” Ben confirmed. He waved an open hand to Clay. “And Kassidy isn’t ‘a medic.’ She’s co-owner of Yang-Yang Nanoceuticals, the most powerful corporation on Mahina and the Rings.”
But his glance fell on his open hand, its nerves newly rebuilt under Kassidy’s supervision. “I strongly advise you to set up the two auto-docs before sunset. They’re stored in container D. When Merchant leaves, you will have only one.”
“I can make that happen,” Sass murmured. Though it would cost her a platform to unload her own eight containers onto. Darren Markley had hoped to get that accomplished by tomorrow.
Tarana spread her hands. “We’ve made dramatic progress since Hopeful landed.”
This was true. Merchant returned to an unrecognizable Sylvan One, with half the Denali moved into tents on platforms. Not that they slept much after Ben declared their progress inadequate and reminded the Selectman she had only two days to get the rest of her people off his ship, and the container platform built. Because any container he couldn’t offload onto a platform would be dumped on mud and tree shoots, or taken with him when he left.
The Denali believed he could be cajoled into another week. Sass hoped so, too.
Cope managed to control his temper by now. “Tarana, you’re going to get your people killed. Please. In that document, we offer to take you back to MO for free. Now. You can repent at leisure and plan another attack on Sylvan. Adequately funded and equipped.”
“But you have a monopoly,” Aurora replied. Once Denali Envoy to Mahina, and a shipmate on their first 5-month voyage home from that planet, Aurora didn’t share Tarana’s iffy grasp on corporations. She owned a few herself. “If we leave now, you won’t transport us back.”
Ben’s eyelids drooped in a wince. Sass could see a muscle twitch near his mouth. “We will consider our business opportunities and the viability of your plan. But no, we might not agree to do this again.”
The physicist Teke sat at the foot of the table. He leaned forward on his arms. “That’s because instead Spaceways hopes to be busy transporting the entire population of Denali to safety in Mahina space. Before it’s too late for them. All who are willing to go, anyway.”
Of the three surviving cities on their homeworld, Hermitage now housed the Denali who refused to leave their punishing planet. The other two, Waterfalls and Denali Prime, still suffered under the mounting heat of a planet already too brutally hot. They didn’t know how much longer they could hold on.
“Don’t even try to make us feel guilty, Aurora,” Teke completed his thought. “No one could have helped you more. Your dream was intoxicating. I had to come see for myself.” He addressed the Selectman for his own class, the academics. “Sofi. As a scholar, I urge you to vote against staying.”
Sofi accepted this seriously, as well she might. Teke was a Mahina citizen these days, but on the homeworld he was acknowledged as the finest mind his generation had produced.
But it was Benek, the farmer Selectman, whose breath hissed inward. “You will not stay, Teke?”
“There was never a chance of that,” he replied. “I’m here on family vacation. A sabbatical if you wish. My work is at Mahina Actual. To seek the means to transport more of our people, more quickly, to safety.”
“For which Spaceways will bleed Denali dry,” Aurora said bitterly.
Benek waved his hands in distress. “Aurora! That was uncalled for!”
Tarana looked at her predecessor as Envoy grimly. “Aurora, I appreciate your insight. But you have no voice at this table. If you speak again, you must leave.”
Aurora slumped backward in her chair.
But Benek said, “This is very upsetting. I call for a vote of conscience.”
The hunter Hadron’s voice grated. “We haven’t finished the meeting yet!”
“No, I agree,” Tarana said smoothly. “The proposition is to stay.” She raised her hand. Hadron and Sofi did as well, with only Benek planting his hand flat on the table for ‘no’. “That is all then. We stay.”
“I don’t understand you people,” Cope mourned. “You’re going to get yourselves killed, and my son along with you.”
“Hey!” Sass objected. “Cope, you know I’ll protect Nico.”
“Both of us,” Clay confirmed from his other side.
“Yeah? And when it’s hundreds of Denali lives, versus your own crew’s asses? What will you do then, Sass?” Cope leaned forward to hold her eye. “We’ve known you half our lives. And I truly don’t know the answer to that. Wish I did.”
“You do know,” Clay
growled at him. “We find a way.”
Ben murmured, “They’ll risk the one to save the other.”
Sass pursed her lips at him. Of course she’d try to save everyone!
Tarana thrust the document back to Cope, unsigned. “This colony will succeed. Or it will fail. Conclusively. That is our task. We have not yet learned that this world is untenable –”
“But you have!” Cope interrupted her. “Tarana, what does this colony buy you? The air is deadly. The ocean is deadly. In two weeks, we’ve found food that’s potentially edible, not yet proven, and one interesting resin. No other resources to support a technological civilization. And you must support a tech base, because you cannot breathe the air. I’ll grant you natural beauty. Sylvan’s got plenty. It’s not enough.”
“Give us another week,” Tarana countered. “Look how quickly we’ve progressed in the second week.”
Yes, please! Sass begged silently. And indeed, they’d lived a charmed existence, with Murphy on holiday this week.
“No.” Ben rose abruptly. “We leave at dawn.” And they walked out.
Sass hurried after them. “Ben, I’ll be sure to take a conscience check on all my people –”
“Porter is leaving with us. The others as you expected.” He flicked her a daggers look. “I contacted them directly. Including our son and his – Floki.”
They didn’t stop marching, along the catwalk and down the clanking stairs. Sass never applied the steel-clang-damping rubber paint job to her rickety steel mesh.
“Come for dinner tonight,” she begged. “Take time to say goodbye to Nico and Floki.”
That caught Cope. He halted on the stairs, arrested with one foot below. But Ben wheeled on her, eyes flashing. “How dare you?! Don’t you think this is hard enough?!”
He sprung past Cope, two steps at a time to get in her face. She recoiled. “We’re trying to save your lives. All of them. Including the Denali in Pono orbit. Including the ones with their lives at risk in Waterfalls and Denali Prime. What you’re doing? It’s grossly irresponsible. Maybe if you’d leave now, they would too. Let’s go, Cope.”
Cope shot her another glance of anguish, then followed his husband to the shuttle.
Sass stood frozen to the spot, halfway down the upper flight. She’d never intended a break with them, not over this, not over anything.
Teke cleared his throat, and stepped down to join her. “Ben, wait up! I’ll ride with you.” Ben didn’t acknowledge he spoke. “Sorry, Sass, guess I should have warned you. Ben feels his near-death should have proven something to you. You’ve looked the planet over. And it sucks compared to Mahina. And Cope is an utter Mahina patriot. It’s just who they are.”
“I get it,” Sass allowed, grateful the physicist paused a moment to give her face. “They’re worried about Nico.”
“Sass, that’s an insult that I will not repeat to them. Like they said. They’re worried about all Denali, not just this expedition. And they’re worried about their son. And you and Clay and your crew and your ship. I am, too.” He hugged her, then clanged down the stairs, and back up the shuttle ladder carrying his pressure suit and a final case of belongings. Ben waited for him, of course.
“Darren,” she said into her comm, carefully controlling her voice. “There are two auto-docs in container D on the platform. Drop today’s project and get those erected, will you? When Merchant leaves, we’re down to one.”
“I – yes. Fine. Chief out.”
23
Ben unlatched the shuttle from Thrive, then halted in midair, surveying Sylvan One. He’d intended to go straight home to Merchant, and wait in his lair hoping for people to beg an early ride home.
But Sass wouldn’t change her mind. So no one else would. Or at least Nico wouldn’t.
He located their son’s suit beacon, and took a lazy arc around the camp thataway.
“Do we say good-bye tomorrow, or now?” he asked. “To Nico.”
He hadn’t planned to convene the three dads of their family right now, but that’s what he had on hand. Not that Nico and Teke ever formed a father-son bond.
Maybe that helped Teke think more objectively. “Is tomorrow just a few hours up to orbit?”
“No. Short on officers,” Ben reasoned aloud. “And I don’t dare lift off from here. I’d set the forest ablaze. Or dislodge a glacier and avalanches on them. Same with hypersonic speeds. No, a few hours to reach the ocean. Then launch to orbit. Couple hours break, and straight on to Mahina Orbital. Hell of a day.”
Cope murmured, “I want to say good-bye now. To him and Floki.” He’d spotted the emu. They were working together on the cook tent equipment.
Ben took Cope’s vote as decisive. He commed Nico to take a break and meet them. He parked the shuttle in the open aisle between sonics and force field, and they donned their spacesuits to step out to meet the…not kids.
Teke kept it quick, opting for Denali style steepled fingers and bow. Then he begged off to say his farewells to Darren Markley. Ben waited on Cope to take the lead.
“We’re proud of you, Nico.” His husband managed a smile. “Terrified for you. Wish you’d leave with us. But I look in your face, and ask what I would have done at 21. And what Ben actually did at 21. With me standing beside him.”
“You know what choices we made,” Ben murmured. “Rego crazy stuff. With Sass leading the band of lunatics.”
Would he now give the orders Sass did then? No way. Maybe. Problem was, her choices seemed viable going in. Only hindsight added harrowing perspective. And saving the people buried under the volcanic ash at Denali Prime – that never looked feasible. They just had to try.
Nico stood strong and tall. Despite his rocky start in life, he’d grown to perfectly Earth-normal form and strength, healthy and brilliant, with a kind smile like sunshine. Though Floki beside him seemed to flatten his head lower with each sentence, as though their words piled bricks to weigh down his expressive long neck. Like himself, Ben recognized Floki held back for Nico to take the lead.
The young man shook his head. “I haven’t done what I came here for yet, Dad. And I’m like you. Both of you.”
Cope nodded slightly, then pulled his son into a hug. Pressure suit hugs with clunking bubble helmets left a whole lot to be desired.
“Crying in a space suit sucks,” Ben reminded them. “Keep it light.” His nose and eyes tickled to say they yearned to get drippy.
Cope barked a laugh. He released Nico for Ben to take a turn hugging him. “Love you Dad,” Nico murmured to Ben. “Always. Hope I earn your respect the way you did on Denali.”
“Nothing to earn, kiddo,” Ben assured him. “You got it. We’ll be here until oh-six hundred. If you change your mind, just call me.”
“I won’t.”
“Floki,” Cope said. “I’ll admit, I didn’t know what to make of you when we met. Impressed as hell, though. Love you, bird. Take care of my son?”
“Oh!” Floki had no compunction against crying. Tears streamed from his huge eyes and he neck-hugged Cope, who embraced his chassis. “I love Nico. You know that, don’t you?”
“I do,” Cope asserted. “I didn’t get that at first. Sorry.”
“He has emotions, Dad. Just like us. That’s what we’re working on. To live life as a human, he needs the full emotional experience.”
“Not quite,” Floki quibbled apologetically. “I have a regulator on downward feedback loops.” He sniffed and stopped crying. “I highly recommend installing one on yourself. Human emotional feedback loops are dysfunctional.”
Cope barked a laugh. “Truth!”
“The trick is a decision to break free of the loop,” Ben confided. “Like, Nico, I’ll tell Sock and Frazzie they’re welcome to steal your stuff.”
Nico chuckled. “I’ll make them give it back!”
Ben took his turn squeezing the bird. Funny how that neck-hug felt kinda nice, yet fragile. “Family, Floki. We’ll be back for you. Count on it.”
“That�
��s enough,” Cope ruled. “Or we really will cry in our helmets.”
“Which really does suck,” Ben confirmed. “Love you. That’s all.”
“Be safe. Do good,” Cope said. “We’re proud of you. Yeah, that’s the lot. Bye.”
As they walked back to the shuttle, Ben wished he’d encouraged Nico to call them directly for rescue without going through Sass. But no, a crewman must appeal to his captain.
When he got back to the ship, he commed and apologized to her for his outburst. And he earnestly wished her the best. He reminded her not to wait until it was too late to call for backup. He’d split the sky to help her. But physics was not kind, and light years would lie between them.
Sass and Clay breakfasted early the next day. They stepped outside to wave good-bye as Merchant and Hopeful lifted and flew away. “Godspeed and a safe trip, Ben.” Their contrails looked lonely writ white against the deep purplish blue of a clear sky. And Sylvan One looked significantly emptier without the bulky ships. Hopeful’s jumbo bio-locks had already relocated to serve the cafeteria tent.
Clay sighed. “We’ll need to tape off their parking space. Convince the Denali to keep it mowed.”
She nodded and hugged herself. Strange how she’d argued against Ben when he was here, yet Sylvan suddenly felt a whole lot bigger and more intimidating. And that was Tarana’s suit waving at her, and heading in her direction. When will she learn to use the comms?
But Tarana knew how. She preferred to meet eye-to-eye, another niggling irritant of constant culture clash. She’s your boss now, Sass reminded herself.
“Sass, Clay! Good to see you.” Tarana launched straight in, with only a cursory finger-steepling to preface her remarks. “I’ve decided that our next priority is the lake settlement. I’d prefer to re-purpose your container platform for our first lake platform.”
Sass blinked. “That won’t work.”
