by Jeff Carlson
"Peter!" she called. He waved and walked to the food line. Ash murmured to Hunt, who carried their trays to the bins like an attentive boyfriend.
"See you soon?" Ash said. Vonnie nodded. Ash and Hunt walked out.
Peter took the spot they'd vacated at the table. "I'm sorry I put you off yesterday," he said.
"Has anyone spoken to you about Ben?"
"I've received compliments about him from NASA's crew."
"I'll bet. He's doped up like a fiend. Peter, he's not getting any rest."
"I just saw him asleep in the barracks."
"He doesn't sleep, he passes out."
"We're short on people and long on priorities. If Ben needs a few pills to keep up, that's acceptable. His work has been outstanding."
Are you trying to impress Jan with our productivity or show me how little you care? she wondered, but she kept a firm grip on her temper. She said, "Ben needs medical attention. Harmeet thinks so, too."
"I'll look into it. Let's talk about your mission. DeBrun will miss his deadline. We knew it was unrealistic. They need another day to complete the Lewis."
"Then the PSSC will beat us to the ocean."
"They would've beaten us anyway. I want you to reestablish our treaties with the sunfish. Who do you want to take into the ice? Berlin wants me to send Araújo and their gun platform."
One of the FNEE war machines had survived the flooding and SCPs. Vonnie said, "No. I'll pick my team. If I bring any mecha, I want doppelgängers.
"I slept like a baby!" Ben said as he entered the mess hall and walked to Vonnie's side. His hair was wet. His face was puffy and his eyes had that abnormal glitter. Had he eaten phets in the shower?
He kissed her theatrically, showing off for Peter. She might have criticized him except she wanted to hurt Peter, too. She leaned back and hooked her arm around Ben's neck, lifting her chest, kissing him deeply. The craving in her body was real. He tantalized her by nipping her with his teeth.
"Wow," she said. "Somebody's ready for action."
Peter wasn't looking at them. "Von, I want a roster for your team in an hour."
"It depends on the 'gängers."
"One hour," Peter said.
Vonnie went with Ben to the food line. He frowned at the scrambled eggs. He took one scoop of oatmeal. "This looks gross. I'll stick to caffeine."
Your stomach's shrunk into a knot, she thought, but she filled two bulbs with coffee and cream for him.
He gobbled his oatmeal standing up. He dropped his tray on the counter and took both coffees from her. As they marched past Peter, Ben made a sound of enjoyment. "Mmm mm. Lotsa cream, tasty stuff."
Peter didn't say anything.
Vonnie knew it was petty to feel satisfied -- but she thought they had every right to needle Peter. He was the one who'd turned his back on her. Then he'd decided he was too busy to help Ben. A good leader would have set aside their personal differences.
If Peter wants to fight, we'll fight, she thought, pausing with Ben at the air lock that opened into the tube from Module D to Module A.
The lock opened. She slapped his butt. He jumped. Then he smiled at her as they walked in.
She needed him to get off the pills and quit spending time with Popson, eat better, sleep better, and become the man she saw inside him.
We can heal each other.
After passing through the next lock, they emerged into Module A. They saw no one. Vonnie stopped to read a display. It showed ten camera views of the other modules. Inside, the camp was a ghost town. According to the NASA/ESA transponder lists, every suit in C Wing had been checked out and most of the suits in B Wing as well. The American engineers, the FNEE soldiers, Ash and Tony were outside. Some had gone into the ice. The rest were toiling on the Lewis.
She was frustrated with Ben, but more prominent was her fear that they'd never see each other again. She could handle the sunfish. It was the Great Ocean that frightened her. Sooner or later, they needed to say goodbye.
She stopped him before they reached data/comm. She pulled him into a storage closet and closed the door. There was very little room, only a narrow slot between stacks of supplies.
"What are we--? Oh." Ben shut up when she unzipped her jumpsuit to her waist.
He fumbled with his two coffees. She laughed at him. He set his drinks on the floor and growled, pretending to bite her navel and her thighs.
"Come here," she said.
They kissed. Slowly, they undressed. They stroked each other as she whispered naughty things in his ear. Soon he was throbbing in her hand and she involuntarily rocked her hips as he toyed with her, rubbing and circling.
They made love standing up with her bent over a case of liquid soap, her belly on the case's flat top. He took her from behind as he rubbed her clitoris, one fingertip inside her folds, his groin pressed against the back of her thighs. He pinned her between his hand and his erection. At first he was gentle. At last he was rough. Her knees wobbled when she came the second time.
Afterward, they cleaned up with the napkins she'd pocketed in the mess hall.
"You planned this," he said.
"You would have planned it if you weren't an idiot. Stop acting like you're trying to kill yourself. You can't just run on phets."
"I love you," he said.
When they stepped into the corridor, Donald Gehb -- one of the genesmiths -- was walking past. Gehb turned at the sound of their footsteps. Ben held his two coffees. Puzzled, Gehb looked at the drinks. He almost said something. Then he spun on his heels and left.
Vonnie elbowed Ben. He prodded her, too. It was a good moment, erotic and carefree. They nuzzled again.
They went to data/comm. They activated two stations, then connected with NASA's doppelgängers. Five were on the ice. Five were in the catacombs. Five was a human number, of course, but the gaffe was irrelevant for their tests.
Patiently, they led both groups through their repertoire of songs and body shapes. Twenty minutes later, Vonnie said, "That was an unqualified success. You do nice work."
He bowed. "I have my fans."
NASA's doppelgängers had mastered the ESA's library of movements and sonar calls, which made them more authentic. Was that enough to convince Berlin?
Vonnie called Peter, expecting to bicker with him.
When he answered his display, she saw the empty mess hall behind him. "Von," he said.
"The 'gängers are set. I want four of them as savage males with me, Ash, Claudia and Mississippi. I can't take the gun platform. The matriarchs need to believe we're not too aggressive. They've lost so much territory because of us. I'm afraid they might disappear into the ice. If we want their help, we need to show balance."
"I'll get back to you," Peter said. He signed off. She would have preferred to help him explain her strategy to Jan and Earth.
She said, "Ben, can you prep a few things for me?"
"Get your own gear."
"I'm not authorized to check organics out of the lab. I want four packets of human urine. Can you rig 'em so they smell like they're from pregnant women?"
"Gross. No. These people already think I'm nuts."
"So do I." She kissed him. "If anyone sees us, I'll say it was my idea, but I can't do it myself."
They left data/comm.
In the corridor, Ben said, "Why do you want to smell like you're carrying a baby? The sunfish don't have any experience with pregnant women."
"They know our physiology. They've tasted my blood and others. I want my team to smell like we're more invested than ever, like we're putting down roots. We can't apologize for the fighting but we can bond with the matriarchs."
"With a lie?"
"Children have been born on Mars. The Americans are marrying each other here. In five years, we could have a real colony on Europa."
"We should get married, too."
Vonnie rolled her eyes. What a proposal, she thought, but she poked his gut. "Maybe."
In the bio lab, Dawson stood at
a station beside the lockers where native DNA was kept. He was focused on enlarged holo scans of two bugs and he didn't turn when they entered. The subtext was clear. His studies were paramount. Nevertheless, he acknowledged Vonnie with a dry, "Good morning, Von."
Ben had a jovial comeback. "How did you know it was her? Don't pretend you didn't peek."
"She has a certain walk."
"I'll bet she does." Ben leered at her.
She shooed him away. "What are you working on?" she asked.
"Common ancestry," Dawson said. He didn't explain or say anything more as she stood nearby, obscuring Ben.
Ben went to the medical banks where ESA and FNEE genetic samples had been added to NASA's collection of hair, marrow, blood and urine samples. They'd recreated their individual baselines a few days after the battle. Regardless of everything else, Jupiter's electromagnetic field continued to bombard them with radiation and there were low-level toxins in any hab module -- aluminum, phthalates, bacteria, mold.
"I'm told you're returning to the ice," Dawson said.
"That's right."
Behind her, Ben's thumbprint unlocked the ESA banks with an audible click. He opened two drawers, then a third, rummaging noisily.
"I assume you're also in favor of this ludicrous submarine expedition," Dawson said.
"Ludicrous isn't how I'd describe it."
"What is your young man doing over there?"
Ben held an armful of vials. From a public drawer, he took tabs of hCG and estriol -- human chorionic gonadotropia and a form of estrogen -- two hormones in pregnant women.
Like the ESA and the FNEE, NASA had contemplated the possibility that a few stray ships might find themselves exiled in the solar system after a full-scale nuclear or biologic war on Earth. So their spacecraft were stocked with ova, sperm and fertility kits like a sunfish library.
Ben produced four sterile casings and added them to his load. Then he went to a separate workstation, where he snapped vials and casings into a centrifuge.
"Is he assisting our physicians?" Dawson asked.
"You wouldn't care. It's for the sunfish."
"On the contrary, I'm growing more charitable toward our little friends. Allow me to make a wager. Like us, the PSSC are wasting their time with probes and submarines. Our efforts would be better spent on the tribes."
Vonnie frowned.
"A higher civilization is a dream," Dawson said. "That broadcast was a fluke, some sort of ricochet or vibration. A spy sat on the other side of Europa might have sent it through the ocean."
"The AIs say you're wrong."
Dawson waved prissily. "Nothing is down there. How can you believe an aquatic species would discover fire, much less metallurgy?"
Vonnie had grilled Harmeet on the subject while she rehabbed. She said, "Hammering copper into tools is simple. They probably began with cutting weapons like we did."
"Without fire..."
"Fire was easy, Dawson. They've always dealt with magma, and there are caverns inside the fin mountains. Some of those caverns filled with gases. Maybe the same bacterial mats that produce oxygen in the catacombs are down there, too. Maybe they transplanted those mats after exploring different environments in the ice. They might have dried plants inside those caverns. They made fires, then forges. Later, they might have burned oil or coal instead of plants."
"Such a chain of 'mights' and 'maybes'."
"The sunfish have been here for a long time. One 'maybe' every century piles up fast -- one lucky break, one new idea. They learned to smelt bronze, then iron." She turned to see if Ben had finished.
He'd removed three of his four containers from the centrifuge. He was eating more amphetamines.
"Your problem is you're so small despite being incredibly smart," she told Dawson, letting her anger slip. It was misdirected. She should have scolded Ben.
"Your problem is you're so grandiose, and your young man's problems are legion," Dawson said. "Those pills may kill him yet."
"Screw you."
"Again with such class." A wan smile creased his bony face. "Go, my dear. Save the universe."
"We saved you when you needed us." Boiling, Vonnie exited the bio lab. Ben trailed after her with four plastic bottles. He opened his mouth, then shut it when he saw her expression.
They strode into the mess hall.
Peter was no longer at his table. Gehb and Popson were scrolling through a display.
Vonnie sat at a different table. Ben plunked his bottles down beside her. Fortunately, the bottles were opaque, so nobody saw the pee. Ben said, "Lemme talk to Andrea." He walked over to Popson. For more pills?
Vonnie removed her display from her thigh pocket. She called Mississippi, who looked like she was preparing for a nap in the women's barracks. Mississippi was in her bunk with the covers pulled to her waist, although she had two displays on her lap.
Mississippi let a training sim play in the background as Vonnie explained why she wanted her. Mississippi rolled her gum in her cheek. Finally, she said, "You gotta ask my boss. If Jan says yeah, I'll go."
"Roger that." Vonnie said. Next she called Ash, who was overseeing five mecha. They were digging near Submodule 07.
Once again Vonnie explained what she wanted. Ash's attention drifted between her machines and Vonnie's words -- and then Ash shook her head. "I'm not going down there. I told you I wouldn't."
Vonnie said, "I need four women."
"Send four doppelgängers. Tell the matriarchs to come to us. Promise them food."
"That's what we've always done. Why should they believe me now? We need to ask them -- not tell them -- if they'll help us. Too many sunfish have died. We invited them into our clan, we swore we'd give them everything and it's been a disaster."
Vonnie disconnected their link.
Ash had said no. Claudia wouldn't venture into the ice without her men. Mississippi had deferred to Jan. Vonnie needed a new plan.
At the next table, Ben was chatting with Popson, who cast a sullen glance at Vonnie. Popson's face was a collage of tension and blame. She was attracted to Ben, and why not? He was animated and brilliant.
Vonnie felt the same discord when Jan answered her call. She needed Jan as a friend, not an opponent, but she hadn't resolved her feelings for Peter.
Jan stood on the ice by the Lewis. The engineers' voices were a hubbub on Jan's radio, and Jan's color was high. "Vonnie! Hey! These meatheads are done with the hull. Now we're gonna need more brains than muscle. If you're finished with the 'gängers, suit up and join us. That'll raise our collective IQ."
Vonnie resisted Jan's charm. "I thought you were behind schedule," she said.
"Ain't. Join us."
"Wasn't there a setback with the tiles?"
"Nah. My team is the best."
They'd planned to cover the Lewis with anechoic tiles designed to absorb sonar much like spacecraft with stealth technology absorbed radar, minimizing their visibility to enemy sensors, until Mississippi expressed concern about attaching the tiles to the hull. The Lewis would experience impacts and abrasions as it descended through the ice. Glue wasn't strong enough. Bolts would create imperfections in the tiles.
Jan said, "We brewed up a liquid plastic full of nanomesh, then sprayed it on as one smooth skin. Flexible. Tough. Self-repairing. Like you."
How can I not get along with somebody who talks like that? Vonnie thought. She allowed herself to nod, acknowledging the compliment, although her voice was solemn. "Your scar. How did you get it?"
Jan didn't ask why. She appreciated boldness. In her scout suit, her helmet prevented her from touching her face, so she wriggled her cheek to emphasize the round mark below her eye. "Ten years ago, I was on a mission to repair an LEO sat," she said, spelling out the acronym -- el ee oh -- low Earth orbit. "We had an electrical fire. It wasn't my fault and I didn't save the day, either. I was asleep when we went tits up and then I was grabbing my suit while our crew put out the fire. I got a drop of molten copper on my cheek. NA
SA wanted to fix the scar. I kept it to remind me. Shit happens. Life is short. Drive yourself hard because what we remember most is victory."
That was eloquent, Vonnie thought. She said, "Will you come with me to find the matriarchs?"
"I heard you wanted Mississippi."
"They respond to leadership. They know I'm not in charge, and they have trouble with the concept that Peter is my boss. "Washington might not let me go. They consider this a high-risk mission."
"High risk, high reward. If the matriarchs show us an open chimney, we could reach the ocean in a day. The PSSC have been digging for weeks. How good would it feel to beat them?"
Jan grinned crookedly. "Yeah."
Three hours later, after Peter reluctantly approved the new plan and timing their approach with the sleep-wake cycle of the clan, Vonnie and Jan stepped into the ice. They did not bring doppelgängers. They did not bring the FNEE gun platform. Jan wore a NASA gorilla. Vonnie wore an ESA scout suit, although they'd stripped their armor of weapons -- no lasers, no M7s, not even spotlights.
Vonnie brought her sword. Jan carried a pike. They'd spritzed the "pregnant" urine on their suits.
It must have helped. The first stage of their mission went as easily as a children's game of connect the dots. They walked until they met two scouts. The scouts led them to a foursome, who led them to a group of twenty-two males and lesser females, who led them to a mob of one hundred and eight sunfish.
Many sunfish were sick.
The males were discolored, their skins blotted with fungal infections or hemorrhagic bruising. Overall, the females tended to seem healthier with fewer skin infections and none of the alarming internal bleeds -- but to Vonnie's experienced eye, several females appeared lethargic.
All of them bore the signs of sunfish-versus-sunfish combat such as lacerations, abrasions and blunt force trauma caused by beaks and clubs.
Jan raised her eyebrows at Vonnie, but she didn't comment on the diseased, battered state of the sunfish. Neither did Vonnie. They both knew what was happening. Starvation. Fighting. Cannibalism.
Descending into the broken catacombs was like walking into the apocalypse. To Vonnie, it was a familiar apocalypse. She wished she could save every living thing in the ice. How? Realistically, there was no way to create a new home for the sunfish and whoever else was down there.
