by Larry Niven
Gabriel landed the little plane smoothly, and taxied to a parking spot by the runway. In the sudden silence as he switched off the engines, he heard himself humming. He realized he had been humming for some time, an old song his mother used to sing. Why was he singing? It felt good to be alone, to be back on Selene.
Visits to John Glenn lately had been . . . uncomfortable.
The next visit would be good. Erika would be warm! Ten days. He switched to humming a love song as he patted the plane on the nose and headed for Council Home.
In contrast to the rest of Selene, Council Home looked familiar. The structures were all hard-surfaced now, of course, but not really bigger. It had always been well designed and well cared for. The flares, though. They shouldn’t have been so surprising. His imagination drew pictures in his mind, magnetic fields reaching out from Apollo, twisting round Daedalus the sun-hugging gas giant planet and its metallic hydrogen core. Field lines knotting, until they exploded in flares of energy and trapped protons. Why hadn’t he seen it from the beginning? The hard-shelled houses weren’t enough protection.
He grimaced, remembering the hurried meeting he’d had with Council before he brought Rachel down yesterday. He was still stinging from Council’s rejection of his flare kite. Only the captain had supported him. They were afraid it would take too much time to develop and test. He’d had a backup idea. At least they’d approved of that one. Building the undersea refuge would be fun, and he would only have to leave Selene once. But they wouldn’t need a refuge if they just fixed the problem. The flare kite would make Selene truly safe.
Gabriel checked into an empty house and showered, dressed carefully in belted and ankle-tied brown pants and a long-sleeved deep blue shirt. He clipped the star and planet symbols that identified his terraforming affiliations into his braid. Every minute since he’d warmed had been spent with High Council or tending Rachel. Star had promised to whip up a decent meal, something she called Mariner Stew, and Gabriel was ready for anything that wasn’t standard ship food.
He had to search for his locker. He could only hope that whoever had moved his few belongings here had been careful. He pulled out a long rectangular case and opened it slowly, smiling at what he saw. The guitar lay neatly nestled in cloth packing, the wood glowing as light hit it from above. He had built it by hand over three winters, using wood from a pruned branch of Yggdrasil, carefully seasoned while he was iced and then brought here to Selene. One entire season’s spare time had gone into hand-shaping the neck and fitting it to the hollow body. He ran his hands over the smooth surfaces, then pulled out the new strings he’d brought from the ship and sat alone for twenty minutes, stringing and tuning the instrument before walking over to meet Shane and Star.
He was humming again as he rang the bell.
The door swung open and Gabriel was engulfed by a blond girl nearly his height, all legs and curves. Star planted a kiss on his cheek. He laughed, holding her around the waist, slapping Shane’s shoulder in greeting.
“Hey, old man,” Shane teased, “you had her once. She’s mine now.”
“And what harm in an old friend flirting?” Star said. “It’s not like Gabriel has eyes for anyone but Erika anyway.”
“Well,” Shane said, “he gets along well enough with Ali. Or so I’ve heard.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Let’s see. If I can’t shift-bond with a pilot, since she has no regular shifts—I’m supposed to just wait around while I terraform this rock?”
Star stepped back and put her hands up in front of her face, laughing. “So you were just killing time with me?”
“I made it live. And I care about Ali too. And Erika will be awake soon.”
“Who made it live?” Star did a little bump with her hips, flirting. “Not that I’d trade Shane away—I bet you can’t wait for Erika.” Star grinned at him, arching an eyebrow.
“Well, I like you all” He felt his face flush. “You’re right. Erika’s special to me. It will take weeks just to catch her up.”
Shane smiled broadly. “You’ll hate it.”
Gabriel was grinning. “So who says life’s easy?”
“Not us.” Star and Shane kissed, and Shane handed around wine bulbs. Star continued. “It hasn’t been easy here. This is the first time Shane and I have seen each other in days. I know you’ve been cold, but it’s gotten crazy. High Council handed down new dictates outlining who can do what, and guess who landed all of the supervision? Oh, they were kind enough to leave some of the fieldwork to be overseen by Earth Born, but that’s all. We’re dying of exhaustion down here. And when we document how much we have to do—heck, what isn’t getting done—High Council just says do it! I’m ready for a rest, I’ll tell you. You’ll have to deal with it—people are doing what they’re supposed to and having babies right and left, the schools are full, and we just can’t do it all. You know there’s only ten Council here?”
Gabriel did some quick math in his head. In addition to the five High Council members, Council numbered two hundred—a mix of picked scientists and top performers in everything from human resource management to drive mechanics. The terraforming crew numbered fifty-seven mixed-discipline scientists. Another twenty were assigned to help them out, and everyone else was either on sparse rotation like Erika or, worse, cold until they got to Ymir.
High Council was struggling to save Earth-educated Council as well as Colonists until they were needed at Ymir. Sure, the other ships were probably there. But there was no confirmation—and so they saved resources. That meant ten was a lot of staff, probably as much as he could expect given that not everyone warm could be on Selene at any one time.
So he said, “Ten’s a lot.”
“For everything we have to do?” Star complained. “We need help. Come on, Gabe, we’re running the town and teaching school as well as overseeing safety and planting and dealing with the flares and . . .”
“Slow down,” Gabriel interrupted, laughing. “We’ve got what we’ve got. We can make children, but we can’t make Council. Let’s see—five years a shift, and next shift we can start building the collider. It won’t be long to finish from here. Maybe ten five-year shifts at most. What about the Earth Born?”
Shane thought it over. “Earth Born do a lot of the work that requires education and skills, and they also supervise work crews of Moon Born. But most go back to John Glenn as fast as they can.” Shane started pacing. “Some stay put; they get attached to their families. It’s hard work to keep so many people on track. The circumstances are so different from what they expected. It’s hard on them. And we don’t have much time to help them.”
Star handed Shane three glasses for the table. “I don’t like being here in the first place, but I dislike being worked to death even more. I heard you were training Children to take some of the burden?”
“I am,” he said. Bitterly, “I was. Aren’t you?”
“It’s not in our work plan. Not right now.” Shane was serious. “Really. There’s no time to teach Children—they’d need university educations to manage most of this. They just don’t know enough to be very useful, and we don’t have much time to teach them. They don’t have the background for anything really complex—I’m amazed we have them reading and recording.”
Star looked over from the kitchen. “Most of them don’t seem to really care anyway.”
Gabriel winced. Of course they didn’t—not if they were treated like slaves. His students had been bright enough to lead other Moon Born—maybe not to lead Earth Born, but surely to lead teams of other Moon Born for the easier tasks. Rachel and Harry and Gloria, they’d cared about Selene. “Let me introduce you to Rachel.”
“Well, I’ll meet your Rachel. But she’s still not Earth Born or Council—I don’t see how she can really help, even with the extra training. This isn’t the mess we left for you and Ali last shift. It’s a very different mess. It’s like High Council has gone paranoid.”
Gabriel decided not to feed that rumor. He suspe
cted it was mostly Ma Liren. He intended to have a chat with Clare and Kyu as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
He said, “No one has told me differently.”
“Step carefully, my friend. We were scheduled to go cryo in just a few weeks. Now there’s no date,” Star said. “What do you know about that?”
“Nothing,” Gabriel said.
“I’m done here now,” Star said. “I’m ready for a long time on ice.”
Gabriel reached over and gave her a casual kiss. “We’ll see Ymir someday. This will all be worth it.”
“How long until you wake Erika?” Shane asked.
“Ten days. So that’s all the time I’ve got to help Rachel acclimate to the time jump, and get her doing something useful.”
Shane turned and faced Gabriel, dropping his smile. “Well, and speaking of Rachel again, have you met up with the ‘Cult of Rachel’ yet?”
“Huh?”
Star said, “The older Children keep up her garden in the grove. Harry and his family do it, including the kids, and some friends of theirs. I think she’s some kind of symbol for them, maybe because she went to the ship, or maybe because she didn’t come back.”
“Rachel’s friendly enough to us.” At least she used to be. She hasn’t been too friendly since we warmed her. “She and Harry were my best students last shift, and I’d planned for them both to be leading planting crews. Harry’s a careful engineer, and Rachel is creative, with a good sense for ecosystems.”
Star wasn’t done. “Really, Gabriel, it is kind of eerie. Go look at her garden plot. It’s cleaner and better cared for than anybody else’s. Dylan—that’s Harry and Gloria’s oldest—he bothers us more about every little thing for Rachel’s plot than for his own. His is good, but hers, hers he keeps perfect. And he can’t have ever seen Rachel. He was born after you took her to the ship. It’s a family thing for them, and I think it’s weird. I mean, nothing bad has happened, but it might be good to know whether they see Rachel as a hero, or just a friend they’re watching over. At least she’s alive, so they can’t make her into a martyr.”
“Has anyone monitored them?” Gabriel asked.
Shane said, “A little—”
“Who’d have time?” Star sputtered. “You’ll see what it’s like.” She ladled strong peppery-smelling fish stew into bowls. “All the data streams in the world don’t help if you don’t have time to read them.”
“We could use Astronaut to help monitor.”
“Maybe,” Shane mused. “But I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Neither am I.” Gabriel shook his head. “But we have to do something.”
Star changed the subject back. “Your Rachel may have some power, since Harry and Gloria are de facto leaders among the Moon Born.” She sat down at the table, and gestured to Shane and Gabriel to join her. “Eat.”
“I wonder if Rachel knows about it?” Gabriel sat down and tasted the stew. It was rich, warm, and spicier than ship food. “This is good.”
“Oh,” Shane said, “I see Andrew at Rachel’s plot sometimes too.”
“Don’t tell me—trampling the ground and pulling up healthy young trees.” Gabriel rolled his eyes.
“No, he weeds it.”
Gabriel almost dropped his spoon. “Andrew still doesn’t have any data access?”
“He has straight com, so he can get flare warnings, or tell us when he’s in trouble. But he has no data, not even low-level access to data pods, much less the community pool. But you know,” she mused, “he’s never even asked us for data.”
Gabriel was mad at Liren all over again for not waking him. Maybe he should wake Ali—she had a good rapport with the kids. Adults now, all of them. But waking Ali would be a bad idea if he wanted to keep his undivided attention for Erika. And he did. Gabriel sighed. He wanted to just relax with Erika for a few weeks when she warmed. Fat chance.
After they cleaned up from dinner, Star pulled out a long wooden flute, Shane assembled his water drum, and Gabriel sang and played guitar. They spent hours on old space songs, and made up new songs, until early in the morning. By false dawn his fingertips were raw and tender.
He didn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good.
CHAPTER 31
JOURNEY
THE NEXT MORNING, Gabriel headed up to Teaching Grove.
It was noticeable; Rachel’s plot was a perfect garden. He stood still, absorbing details that showed meticulous care; dead leaves stripped, weeds pulled, paths clear and raked.
A rustling sound made him look to his left. He saw two kids, blond, a boy and a girl, in Ursula’s plot. The two children were carefully uprooting a dead palm sapling. Ursula’s plot hadn’t been kept up as well as Rachel’s, but signs of recent activity showed. Piles of dead twigs and yellowed leaves lined the path, waiting to be composted. Small branches and fall were left in the plot, of course, but larger woody material went to become soil with the help of life-limited nano.
The children noticed him, and left the palm half finished, moving away quietly to crouch a few meters away from him. They kept their heads down, not meeting his eyes, weeding. It bothered Gabriel. The last time he was here, people—everyone—greeted each other and talked when they met.
RACHEL WAS IN THE KITCHEN with her dad and an Earth Born who must be Kara, Frank’s contracted partner. Three children were lined up at the kitchen table, eating toast and bananas. A strong minty smell pervaded the kitchen. Rachel looked fresh from sleep. Her hair was still long, and in disarray, but she seemed a little friendlier. She glanced up at him, smiling, saying, “I was hoping to have a few more hours to visit.” Irony. She’d learned irony.
Frank glared at Rachel and broke in quickly, “Good morning, Gabriel, it’s a pleasure to have you back here. We’re glad to see you.”
Kara extended a hand in formal greeting.
Gabriel looked over at Rachel, and he watched her struggle to ignore him. She eventually said, “Well, Gabriel, what’s next for me?”
“You and I are doing a ground survey. I’ll visit with your dad while you pack. I’d like to hear his perspective on how things have been here while we were cold.”
Rachel left the room. Kara scrambled up, clearing the children’s plates. “I’ll walk the kids to school.”
Frank nodded, and Kara herded the children toward the door. “Jacob, Justin, Sarah—let’s go. You’ll be late.”
One of the twins turned and looked at Frank. “Can’t we stay? I want to talk to Gabriel.”
Frank shook his head, but waved as Kara marshaled the three youngsters out the door.
Gabriel felt strangely awkward. “Kara seems nice, and the children are beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you. Kara will leave us soon.” Frank’s voice sounded pained. “I really am glad you’re back. Our lives work better when you’re here.”
“I’m sure Shane and Star have done a good job,” Gabriel said, helping himself to a piece of bread from the kitchen counter.
“Aldrin is a harder place for us. More work. There are more approvals and steps to get anything done, too. I mean, you always had rules, but it seems like there are so many it’s slowing us down while the workload just gets bigger. Shane is strict with us. Even me. It used to mean something to be first generation.” Frank leaned back in his chair, looking uncomfortable. “People—Earth Born largely, but Council too—they treat us like—like badly built machinery. Being Moon Born is a curse. It makes me wonder, how will things work when there are even more of us here? Will we always just do what you say?”
Gabriel shook his head at the veiled threat. “Frank, you have to. We give you what autonomy we can.” He changed the subject. “How’s Rachel doing?”
“Better than I thought she would be. But this is hard. I hope she gained as much as she lost.”
Gabriel saw regret mixed with anger on Frank’s face, and then a congenial mask dropped over Frank’s eyes. Gabriel was saddened; he and Frank had worked so closely together once
they’d almost been friends.
Frank continued. “It’s strange how you brought her back looking as young as when you took her. It makes her special in a way, and it scares me. How will people respond to her?”
“I’m sorry she was cold so long,” said Gabriel. “The lost time will be hard for her—we meant it to be a year.”
“Rachel told me you were cold when the decision was made.”
Rachel reappeared with a pack and her wings. “When will I come back?” That ironic tone again. “Or should I know better than to ask?”
“I have to go back to John Glenn in less than two weeks. We’ll be back before that.”
GABRIEL’S PLAN WAS TO STAY out seven days, finding a new place to camp each morning and using the afternoons to document the jungle’s health. He had run the data already, but he needed to touch and feel the work. He wanted time to think, and time to evaluate Rachel’s adjustment.
His plans already looked imperfect. Rain clouds piled and billowed to the west, and he didn’t want to fly into a storm. Rachel sat quietly next to him, recording data as he fed it to her, barely responding to anything else. She seemed indrawn, but less angry. Neither of them brought up the moments when Gabriel had held her after she learned about Ursula’s death, or the insubordination she had shown afterward. The flight out was full of awkward silence.
The first two days were soggy. They slogged through the earlier plantings with the bigger trees, hoping that the rain would stay above them in the canopy. Enough moisture fell through to keep them damp and miserable. Mud stuck to their shoes, and their feet made sucking sounds as they walked.
The jungle showed the passage of time. Flowers bloomed, epiphytes held onto branches, lianas threaded through trees, and three times they saw bright green birds.
Rachel did her share of the sampling and testing. By the end of the second day, Gabriel noticed that even with the ever-present rain, Rachel was showing her connection to jungle plants. She exclaimed happily at trees that looked particularly good, and was aggrieved wherever a tree appeared less healthy. She was willing to spend hours sampling soil and finding remediation recommendations for every sick place. They stumbled on an area where ten trees had died, and Rachel analyzed the soil and what was left of the dried leaves, finally determining that the whole region had the wrong soil acidity. “We’ve got to stay and fix this,” she said.
