She took a job in Montréal’s Mile End as a waitress, working her way up to barista as she hooked into the coffee culture. In time she made friends and found rebels without a cause like herself.
She didn’t set out to be covered in tattoos and studs, but one led to another. By her twenty-first year she was part of a subculture where she felt she belonged at last.
Her distraught parents all but disowned her at first, but they didn’t forget her. Although she wasn’t aware of it, their subtle intervention from time to time steered some of life’s trials away from her.
And when the light faded on prospects for the planet, her parents spent almost all of their fortune buying their little girl a chance for life in a better place.
Sabine knew nothing of this until one day they arrived at her door with a small bag, and asked her to pack her most precious things. Stunned at seeing them after years of estrangement, she complied without protest. They took her to a private plane and flew her south across the border and down to Florida, where the shuttle waited.
She let them do it. And now she felt confused and bitter, and full of grief for her parents. Two people she’d fought against, rebelled against, and rejected. But they’d never stopped loving her, and she still loved them. Somehow she’d always assumed there’d be a great reconciliation, a day when they could accept each other at last.
But circumstance had stolen that chance from her forever, and instead she’d washed up on the shores of a foreign land, to become the most foreign person there. She didn’t fit in. But she had company. Sabine sat, arms hugging her knees, on a sun-warmed rock at the edge of the park, watching Jake Cooper watching Joyce Ng.
Breakfast trickled to an end but most people still hung around the pavilion area or the tents. David used his whistle to good effect to attract their attention. “Everyone! Please gather round!”
A rough half-circle formed as people answered his call.
“I’m pleased to tell you we’ve completed the first row of houses and they’re ready to be occupied.”
“Who are you giving these to?” Ananda Kumar demanded. He’d pushed his way to the front. His tone of voice made it clear any answer that didn’t include him would be the wrong one.
David ignored him. “I have here,” he said, holding up a data pad, “a list of names. There’s enough room for half of you. We’ve prioritized families with children, children without parents, and those with medical needs. After that, it’s a random draw.”
He looked around. “I hope those of you not assigned a house today will understand. You’ll only have another week to wait.”
A man near the front spoke up. “Hey, it’s not a problem. It’s not like the weather’s bad or anything.”
David saw nods of agreement. “Thanks for understanding,” he said. “One more thing – couples will share. You’ll get a bedroom in an apartment and share with another couple.” This time he saw ripples of discontent.
Ernie Blackmore spoke up. “Hey, it’s a lot better than nothing at all.” He glared at the dissenters as if daring them to complain. “We’re damn lucky to have anywhere to live, let alone somewhere like Haven.”
David nodded at Ernie, grateful for his support.
“This will change in time, but right now we don’t have enough building materials – we need to manufacture more to make more houses. We’ll reassess the need for this in a month’s time – that’ll give us time to come up with a better plan for the colony’s expansion.”
He looked down at his data pad for a moment. “OK, here’s the list. Unit one – the van Zyl family. Unit two, Scott and Suki Turner, and Sabine Pope. Unit three, the Kendell family …”
Suki was apprehensive as she and her brother turned up at unit two, suitcases in tow. She stopped at the front door, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Scott?”
Before he could answer, the door opened and Sabine appeared, leaning against the doorpost. One side of her mouth crooked up in a smile. “Well? Are you coming in?”
Suki looked at Scott again, her face pale.
“Go on,” he said, nodding toward the door.
She swallowed. Her legs felt like lead. A fourteen-year-old girl from a sheltered, wealthy family, she’d never seen anyone like Sabine before, let alone lived with her.
Sabine leaned over and grabbed her case. Suki flinched and pulled back, eyes wide.
Sabine grinned. “Relax, kid. I’m not gonna eat ya. Let me help with that.”
Suki’s ears burned and she didn’t know where to look.
Sabine lifted Suki’s case as if it weighed nothing, and carried it inside, disappearing into a bedroom. Suki trailed after her, Scott bringing up the rear. Just when she thought it might be OK after all, Sabine reappeared in the bedroom doorway.
“We’re in here,” she said.
Suki’s eyes grew round like saucers. “W-We are?”
Sabine’s lips twitched. “There’s only two rooms, so girls here, boys over there.” She pointed with her chin at the room across the hall.
“Oh.” Suki looked at Scott again, who shrugged.
“Better go unpack,” he said.
The teens, except Elizabeth, of course, had disappeared into the wild lands, the Havenites dragging their new friends along with them. The pre-teens didn’t mix quite so well, the Kendell children in particular, who continued to complain in between foraging for food.
That left Elizabeth with her usual choices – take part in an adult activity, or mind the little ones. Today she chose the latter and took them down to the lake to enjoy the water. She sat on the shore and divided her attention between them and David and John, as they spoke with several of the newcomers. She watched David more than her father.
Elizabeth was a complex person. She had inherited her parents’ beauty and intelligence, but her temperament fell somewhere between theirs. John had a laid-back and positive personality, but Nathalie couldn’t be more different. Volatile and moody, a smile from Elizabeth’s mother was a rare thing on some days. Elizabeth had a positive mindset like her father, but had inherited her mother’s tendency toward angst.
Although only a year separated her from Vasily and Joyce, that year had mattered as they’d grown older and she found herself in a no man’s land between childhood and adulthood. Elizabeth admitted to herself that her insistence on being in charge of the other children contributed to this. It still worked with the little ones, but the older teenagers would have none of it.
It hurt that the others had paired off as they grew older – Vasily and Nicole, Konstantin and Joyce, and so on. It left no one for her, and so the complications began.
Their multi-talented parents steered them toward choosing just one of their skills to specialize in, but she’d learned all of Grace’s skills – navigation, piloting, and chemistry. They didn’t need a starship navigator right now, but someone had to know how to do it. David still maintained they would one day return to see what had become of Earth.
Elizabeth and Grace grew close, precipitating emotional complication number one – Nathalie became jealous of her attachment to her mentor. Elizabeth suspected her mother hated feeling that way, but she didn’t seem able to help herself. She came around in time and made peace with Grace, but Elizabeth still felt tense around them sometimes.
Complication number two came about because spending a lot of time with Grace meant also spending a lot of time with David. As she’d come into the bloom of early womanhood, certain feelings developed. Without even understanding what had happened, she fell in love with David Miller.
It tore her apart. Even in her misery she had wits enough to know her inappropriate feelings for David could never be returned. Elizabeth loved Grace just as much, and she couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.
And David had eyes for no one but Grace. He didn’t need a teenage crush mooning after him.
So she took those feelings and locked them away, deep inside, where no one could ever find them. She buried herself in
her work and her interests, pouring out her love for Grace instead, inadvertently driving a wedge between herself and her mother, and her mother and Grace.
Carla strolled along the lakefront, watching and learning. She saw Elizabeth there, and noticed how her attention wandered. She looked where Elizabeth looked, and smiled. Sweet, innocent Elizabeth didn’t know what her face betrayed. But Carla knew, and filed that little fact away for safekeeping. One never knew when it might come in handy.
Sheldon Owen thought well of himself – and why not? He’d established a reputation as one of the world’s foremost astrophysicists, developing a new theory to explain the behavior of dark matter and discovering physical evidence to support it. He’d hosted a popular TV show that explored the mysteries of the universe and presented them in dumbed-down fashion for the masses to consume, no mean feat in a world with an endless supply of cheap, hedonistic entertainment.
If it hadn’t been for the holocaust he would without doubt have been on the shortlist for a Nobel Prize. Instead, Edward had made him an offer impossible to refuse – the opportunity to travel to another star, something even he hadn’t ever dreamed of achieving.
Not being able to stargaze during the journey had been disappointing, but he’d understood, and was only too pleased to escape the fires of the holocaust that engulfed Earth.
Now that he’d arrived and found a place to live, his mind turned to his next priority – Nathalie Duplessis. She would surely be eager to meet him. In fact, he was miffed she hadn’t already sought him out. He’d waited as long as his patience could stand, but had now swallowed his pride and gone looking for her.
He found her in the pavilion kitchen, of all places, teaching the three youngest children how to bake croissants. The children were perched on the edge of the bench, while Nathalie mixed dough, flour caking her hands.
She wore shorts and a crop top, and didn’t look like a woman in her mid-forties who had given birth to six children.
Sheldon found himself rooted to the spot, drinking in her loveliness. Then the domestic goddess raised her head and deigned to notice him.
Sheldon considered himself a serious man of science – albeit one with an engaging personality for the TV audience – not someone given to emotional dalliance. But when Nathalie straightened up, sending ripples through her flat abdominal muscles, and flashed an engaging smile, his body reacted without so much as a thought from him. His face reddened and his brain turned to mush.
“I, uh.”
Nathalie inclined her head. “Sheldon, isn’t it?” she said, coming to his rescue.
“You know who I am,” he said, eyes wide. His feelings had transformed from annoyance to schoolboy crush in less than a minute.
“But of course, I’ve seen your work. We are privileged to have such an accomplished scientist with us.”
Sheldon’s eyes shone. Nathalie had heard of him and respected him! And look at her! He should have realized she would be too busy with her responsibilities to the colony, to the children, to have been able to come to him. Idiot!
Zoé spoke up, popping Sheldon’s bubble. “Maman, who is the funny man?”
Sheldon felt his confidence follow his elation down into a pit of despair. Of course, she had a child. And the child didn’t like him.
“Shhh, ma petite. He’s different because he’s from Earth.”
“That’s where you come from, isn’t it, Maman?”
“Oui.”
“You don’t look like him.”
Thank heavens for that, thought Sheldon.
Nathalie favored him with another smile, soaking him in sunshine and roses. “Of course not, ma petite. The people from Earth wear different clothes and have pale skin. But that will change, won’t it Sheldon?”
Sheldon nodded. “Indeed it will.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The air in the cavern felt almost cool at this early hour, the overnight rain from the sprinklers high above having leached away some of the heat.
David was indulging in his favorite activity – getting his hands dirty readying a batch of seedlings for planting. Food consumption had skyrocketed, and they needed to break new land and increase their production rates.
He was expecting company to arrive soon. As well as the usual collection of children who came to help, there had been volunteers from the newcomers.
Until then, though, he claimed peace and quiet as his reward for rising early.
When he next looked up, he saw he had a visitor.
Carla Lewis.
She cut a distinctive figure, dressed in her trademark form-fitting black. Her concession to Haven’s warm environment had been to swap her long-sleeved tunic for a sleeveless top. Every step she took emphasized her feminine curves, which only a saint could ignore.
A smiled creased her face when she saw David had noticed her, exposing a double row of perfect white teeth framed by rose-red lips.
“Up early, I see, Captain.”
David straightened up and leaned back into his hands. “Few call me that these days.”
Carla cocked her head. “What do they call you?”
“David.”
Carla laughed. “May I call you David?”
He shrugged. “You might as well.”
David regarded her with interest, although not the kind Carla may have been trying to generate. The others had all reported feeling uneasy around her, and his own few encounters had done nothing to challenge those opinions. Something about her rang a warning bell in his mind. The way she looked at him, the disconnect between her mouth and her eyes. She smiled a lot but her eyes saw right through him.
“Well, David. What brings you out here so early?”
He held his hand out, palm up, indicating the trays of seedlings. Verdant green leaves glistened with dewdrops in the morning sun, making them glow with vitality.
“Don’t you have machines for that?”
“We do use bots, but I like to raise seedlings myself.”
“Interesting. Let me guess – you grew up on a farm, and you want to reconnect with your roots?”
David inclined his head. “I must look the part.”
Carla stepped past and stared at the plants for a moment, before turning back. “That’s not who you really are, is it David?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean you survived four years of navy flying in one of the most dangerous air combat theaters ever known. That’s twice the duty most pilots pulled, and few survived as long as you did. Twice wounded, once seriously and awarded the Medal of Honor for a recovery mission everyone regarded as suicidal – even, I suspect, you.” She stepped closer. David could smell her perfume. She reached up and brushed a little dirt from the shoulder of his shirt. “I’ve seen eyes like yours before, David. Underneath that humble exterior, you’re a killer.” She tossed her head. “I know the look.”
David stepped past Carla to pick up a tray of seedlings. He stacked them on the deck of the planter bot. He looked back at Carla. “You seem to know a lot about my past, Miss Lewis.”
Carla smiled. “That’s what I do, Mr. Miller. I make it my business to know about people.”
“And you came out here early, just to let me know that you know I once flew airplanes for a living?”
“Oh no, David. Not that. I just wanted to meet you in person. And I must say, I’m not disappointed, either.” She cast an appraising look over him that made him feel like he needed a shower. “After all, you and I will have a lot to talk about.”
“We will?”
“Oh, yes.” Her smile again didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Edward is occupied at the moment, which leaves me to take care of liaising with you.”
“Liaising?”
“Negotiations between our two organizations.”
“Organizations?”
Carla nodded. “Now we’re here, we need to agree on how we can coexist. I’m sure you’ve anticipated the need.”
David dusted loose soil from
his hands and turned to pick up another tray of seedlings. “I’ll give it some thought.”
Carla turned to go. As David turned back from stacking the second tray, she looked back over her shoulder, through half-lowered lids.
“Until then, Captain.”
David snorted and turned back to his seed trays.
“So what d’ya say, Ernie?” John had just finished pitching him the idea of acting as a liaison for the professionals. “I’m pretty sure this’ll lead to a seat on the council.”
He’d invited Ernie to his workshop on a pretext so he could talk to him alone. Ernie had listened to John for the past few minutes as he talked about how they wanted to bring the two groups together.
Ernie leaned back against the worktable, gripping its edges behind him for a moment. Then he scratched his neck and looked around the room.
John felt a sinking feeling inside. He liked Ernie – he had a boundless enthusiasm for every new project and could talk your ear off all night given half a chance.
Ernie looked down for a moment then abruptly headed for the door. He stopped just before John could ask him to. Instead of leaving, he shut the door and turned around.
“Look, John, here’s the thing. Can I be honest with you?”
“You know you can.”
Ernie nodded. “Yeah. I do know. But I need your promise, OK? You won’t repeat any of what I’m about to say, except maybe to the others on the council?”
John nodded. “I promise.”
Ernie leaned back against the bench again and closed his eyes. “First, let me say I’d like to take your offer more than anything else I can think of right now.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and held his chin for a moment. “It’s hard to describe just what a shithole Earth had become for us at the end. The overcrowding, the environment gone to hell, the ratio of assholes to decent folk way out of kilter. Everyone looking out for themselves, you know? And with so few jobs to go around, big corporates like Harper’s could pretty much write people’s tickets. For everyone with a company job, five others just as good had nothing to do with their time but piss everyone else off.”
The Seasoning Page 10
