Titan Cruel Moon

by Kate Rauner

  "Hang on a minute," Fynn said. "There's an insulated suit and oxygen cylinder in one of those boxes. Safety precautions in case we nick the dome in the wrong place and start a leak."

  Rica pulled loose a voluminous wad of plastic and shook it out. "It has feet like a bunny suit."

  Casper bent low to peer into the hole. "We don't need precautions. This cut is fine. It's inside the curve of the panel. But are you sure you reached the last layer? It should be yellow."

  He reached into the hole, up to his shoulder. "Ah!" He jerked, tumbled backwards, and pressed his hand against his chest.

  Fynn twisted Casper around to see his ghostly white fingers. "Frostbite. Drew, call Mom. Tell her to meet us at the clinic." He dragged Casper to his feet and half-carried him away.

  An hour later, the rest of the crew joined Fynn on a bench in the clinic. Rica brought a status update. "We finished installing the blower," she said. "I set it on high, just like the instructions said."

  A door opened and Casper came out, holding one bandaged hand with the other. He gave the crew a tight-lipped smile and dropped his gaze to the floor.

  Greta followed him. "Casper's going to be fine. It's surprising how fast the cold penetrated his skin, but I doubt he'll lose any finger tips."

  Then Yash leaned out from the treatment room. "Fynn, may I see you?"

  As Fynn pulled the door closed behind himself, his face flushed and his eyes darted around the room - an exam table, a couple chairs, and a wall-mounted display. It was a small space and he stood close to his father.

  Yash flopped into a chair and shook his head, his wide mouth pressed into a frown.

  "I made you crew leader for this job. Safety is your responsibility."

  Fynn's knees felt weak. "I asked if everyone read the instructions."

  "That's no excuse. You can't treat this like an exercise in school. There's a moon on the other side of the dome, and it's deadly to human life. Maybe I should have shown you the surface sooner. Once you go out, once you see what we're up against... Well, we can't change the sequence of tasks at this point. I hope you learned something today."

  Yash left, closing the door again, and Fynn huddled into the chair, planning to hide there until Casper and the others were sure to have left the clinic.

  ***

  Maliah rolled her chair between two lines of server racks to a panel blinking miniature constellation of tiny red lights. She checked for the simplest problem first and muttered to herself as she worked. "There you are you little devil." Sometimes, the most advanced technology could be defeated by the simplest problem. As the cabinets heated up, a breaker had popped.

  She paused and lifted her head at the sound of someone climbing down the vertical ladder that ran inside through the tower.

  It was adjunct Shun Ito. "Doctor Tanaka invites you to lunch with us." His deep voice sent a thrill through her. Though one of the few Samurai Kin, he sported a classic Viking moustache and chin beard, with clean-shaven cheeks. He gallantly waved her ahead of him and she climbed to the second floor balcony.

  Maj Krog, the other older adjunct, greeted her with a hug. "You'll forgive me, I'm sure, but I don't offer anyone drinks until Doctor Tanaka descends."

  Trina, the last adjunct, was also Viking Kin and about Maliah's age. She smiled over a platter she was arranging at a galley kitchen along one wall. This floor was the adjuncts' quarters and Maliah hadn't been invited before. Counters ran along one wall of a large open room. A dining table and lounge area left half the space empty. Maliah knew the adjuncts lived in the tower to be close to Tanaka's room on the top floor, and doors in the rear wall must lead to their private rooms.

  The adjuncts pivoted to the vertical ladder in the corner before Maliah realized someone was descending. It was Tanaka, lowering himself by his arms as his feet slid down the side rails. He hugged each adjunct and then held out his arms to Maliah. "Here is our golden Archetype," he said. "And a most beautiful representative. Now our luncheon group is complete."

  Maliah couldn't think of a thing to say. Her face flushed hot as she stepped toward him. Tanaka held her tight, it seemed for a long time, but maybe she was just nervous.

  She sat directly across the table from Tanaka. Maj and Shun flanked him, and Trina brought plates, platters, and cups of tea before seating herself. Maliah wasn't sure which meal packages they'd opened, but everything looked splendid when it was laid out on platters.

  Tanaka gazed steadily at Maliah, so it seemed fair for her to return the stare. His tawny face was round, and it seemed his hair had reversed position since his youth. A short white beard spread across his chin and up his cheeks to his ears, but his eyebrows were thinning and, seen from the front, he was quite bald. Tiny lines crinkled the outer edges of his eyes. Laugh lines, probably, though his eyes were chips of stone.

  He tented his fingers under his chin. "Tell me, my dear. When will the cybernet be fully operational?"

  Muscles in Maliah's chest tightened. "I'm sorry. I've had a few problems. I didn't realize you were inconvenienced."

  Tanaka's lips curved in a slight smile. "I must continue my genetic studies. I have the data sets with me, my own and my father's. Even the original information my grandfather used to establish his breakthrough theories of the true humans, and to begin identifying and collecting individuals who were descended Kin. But for genetic modeling, I need a faster system. Our ancestors stretch hundreds of thousands of years into the past."

  No one had lifted a fork yet. Maliah sat still, her skin tingling and her back stiff. She knew the story of the Kin from school, but this was Doctor Tanaka himself telling it. His gaze locked on her and she dared not breathe or she might ruin the moment.

  "When upright apes arrived in India, Nature could realize her ultimate purpose. To create humanity. That was my grandfather's great discovery. Over eons, some of our people migrated north. Those who veered to the east became Samurai. Or west, to become Vikings.

  "But mongrels bred like the animals they remained. They surrounded us, pushed in on us, tempted our sons and daughters with superficial charms, infiltrated our communities to claim equality, and preyed on our honest nature. The mongrels nearly overwhelmed us.

  "You can see the differences when you look in the mirror. You, Maliah, have a beautifully symmetrical face, intelligent eyes, and determined set to your jaw. That marks you as Kin. Skin color is a trivial effect of environment. It will change here on Titan as it did when we crossed the Earth."

  No one moved, but energy laced the room. Tanaka's fingers slipped upwards to the bridge of his nose as he continued talking. "None of us, not even myself, is without contamination, but we retain our nobility of character. We represent the last chance to achieve Nature's purpose. A dozen of my fellow Samurais are with us, a few more from the Archetype, and a majority from those who persisted most flawlessly, the Viking stock. Now we have left the mongrels behind, and can purify our race."

  He dropped his hands and looked at Maliah again. "Hence, the importance of my genetic studies."

  Maliah's chest swelled with pride. She was among the chosen. "I'll have more servers on-line today." As she said it, the tightness in her chest returned. "Oh. There could be interruptions until I finish the steady state diagnostics."

  Tanaka picked up his fork and reached for a platter. "Perhaps you can work at night? It is absolutely vital that we stay on schedule. I have complete faith in you."

  Tension drained from Maliah's shoulders. She nodded, smiling, unable to think of anything else to say.

  Maj passed her a bowl of dried apple slices. The Advance Team didn't have apples and their unexpected appearance made them special. She spooned two onto her plate and, as Tanaka asked the adjuncts about various cargo items, added two more.

  After lunch, the plates were cleared and Maj brewed white tea. While she poured for each of them, Shun carried around a tray of small, star-shaped cookies, each with a center of jam.

  Tanaka held one up, his smile reaching his ey
es. "These cookies are a weakness of mine, I'm afraid. I had a tin packed in nitrogen and frozen to bring with us. We must keep our spirits high." He sipped the last of his tea. "I'll use the spiral stairs to return to my quarters. Perhaps some game is underway on the playing field and I'll wave to those below."

  He paused at the door. "Maj, do give Maliah something to take with her." Then he stepped onto the balcony.

  Maliah's eyes skipped quickly to the cookies. Shun was putting the leftovers into a shiny tin. Instead, she asked about the apple slices and Maj tipped the bowl onto a square of plastic film, wrapped them, and held the packet out. "Doctor Tanaka enjoyed your company," she said. "Perhaps he'll ask for you to join us again."

  Maliah peeked out the door and saw the balcony was empty. Tanaka must have returned to his top-floor apartment. She stepped out, took a deep breath, and walked down the stairs slowly. She hoped Kin below noticed that she was leaving the adjuncts' room.

  Chapter 7

  Y ash approached the greenhouse dome and paused in the tunnel. For a moment, his shoulders slumped. He was tired. Not from lack of sleep, but from the weight of responsibility. So many people had worked for so long, and now assembling the colony was his job. The future of everyone here, even their day-to-day survival, depended on him. He had no time for fatigue.

  Fans roared behind him and the floor vibrated underfoot as ducts carried return air in the opposite direction. The tunnel was an uncomfortable place to stand, but he smiled because the ventilation system was working properly.

  Yash hopped forward to balance on the edge of the entrance arch and look across the dome. His view was partly blocked by the half-completed hydroponic system. To see growing plants were going to be a comfort and relief enough from living in domes, so the greenhouse equipment was entirely white. Color came from a crowd of workers dressed in various bright hues. The crew was scattered throughout the dome, some unpacking pallets on the floor, and some climbing the hydroponic frames.

  He raised his arm and tapped through camera feeds to find a view of Fynn's crew. Fynn called Rica, Casper, and Ben his engineers. Yash chuckled. Fynn was the only one with a university degree. Most Kin earned topical badges from on-line colleges, but all were gifted. Drew wasn't with them. His background made assignment to the maintenance crew an obvious choice, and after Casper's accident, it might be best if Fynn didn't have his friend to goof around with during the workday.

  Yash studied the display on his khaki sleeve. Fynn stood to one side of the stevedore bot, catching the panel fabric as it drooped.

  He took a long breath, filling his head with the harsh smell of new equipment. Fynn was capable, smart, and motivated. He'd be fine. It was shaping up to be a pleasant, successful day.

  The camera feed disappeared from Yash's sleeve, replaced by a message in large white letters against a blue screen. He had a gel in one ear, so he received the audio too.

  It was Adjunct Shun's voice. "Doctor Tanaka will address the Advance Team in five minutes. Let us honor him by coordinating in Kin blue."

  Yash's coveralls switched to the message's blue color so suddenly he flinched.

  The crew moved toward the tunnel to the village dome and Yash hopped out of their way. He twisted a hand through his hair as he watched them jog by wide-eyed and chatting eagerly, and slipped into an opening between two groups. His neck was stiff and Yash rolled his shoulders, trying to relax. He never liked interruptions, especially when an entire crew got pulled from a job, but of course, Tanaka wanted to talk to the Kin again. A break was probably good for morale, he hoped.

  ***

  Greta stepped out of the clinic. She'd been running tests on a half-dozen Kin, searching for fluid shifts. When the Cohorts were awakened, she planned to compliment the medical chief on the equipment he included for her clinic.

  Not that Titan's low gravity should be causing problems yet, but many on the Advance Team had spent months in zero-g at the spaceport, and didn't always follow the standard protocol for three months in space, one month on Earth. Ultrasound measurements of forehead and eyelid tissues, and various arteries and veins, told her fluids had migrated upwards in their bodies. Some people complained of vision changes, which confirmed the ultrasound results.

  Greta had lunar base studies that were applicable since Titan's gravity was only slightly less than Earth's Moon. But the lunar doctors had quickly implemented conservative schedules that rotated personnel to Earth on a strict schedule, so there weren't many long-term human studies to help her separate gravity effects from stasis sickness.

  She stretched. The summons to a Tanaka speech was a welcome distraction.

  She walked far enough past the tower to spot Tanaka standing on the top floor balcony. Shun and Maj stood on either side of him, and in front, on the open playing field, the Advance Team was assembling in their matching blue coveralls. They automatically arranged themselves into neat rows of six.

  Tanaka usually waved to his crowds, but today he gripped the railing with both hands.

  Greta bounced on her toes, debating what to do. She'd treated Tanaka several times for stasis aftereffects. Problems with balance would be a new symptom, though any unsteadiness could be a temporary delay in low gravity adaptation. She wanted a closer look, and stopped off to one side of the Advance Team.

  Tanaka's back stiffened and the adjuncts stepped closer to stand at his shoulders. He raised one hand. Greta's sleeve display switched from the white and blue assembly message to a front view of Tanaka. A dozen cameras were spaced around the dome, hanging halfway to the ceiling, and this one focused directly on the tower.

  "Welcome, Kin, to your destiny." Tanaka's voice played in her ear. Heads tilted in unison to watch him on the tower's blue balcony. No one dropped their gaze to a sleeve.

  Tanaka placed his hand back on the balcony railing. "Titan. Our world. Large enough to be a planet in its own right. The largest moon in the solar system."

  Greta tented her fingers against her mouth. That wasn't true. Ganymede was larger. Only Ganymede, so it was almost true, and she'd heard Tanaka exaggerate for dramatic effect in the past. She couldn't call his statement a symptom. But Tanaka always gestured during his speeches and today he stood rigidly still. She raised her arm and zoomed in on the camera's image. His fists were wrapped, white-knuckled, around the railing.

  "To be Kin is to strive, explore, and conquer. We build and produce. We never exploited the pitiful mongrels around us. We gained nothing but tragedy from their presence. But this is true no longer. Titan will be our creation and our children's inheritance."

  The team cheered and raised fists into the air in unison. Perhaps Greta had missed a signal from the adjuncts.

  "The Titans were the original gods, the ancient ones. They were overthrown by their degraded children. It is no coincidence that their story predicts our own, our displacement by the mongrels. For us, there was no single battle, for we are a peaceful people. Like the mighty Neanderthals before us, we were defeated by population dynamics. By an imbalance in birthrates."

  Greta sucked in her lower lip. He was rambling.

  "There are no coincidences in the Kin's history. It is no coincidence that this world is named Titan. It was created for us, for we are the Titans."

  Cheers sounded spontaneously and, with every eye on their leader, Greta was free to spin around, go back to her clinic office, and grab the bag she kept packed specifically for Tanaka.

  When she returned, he'd left the balcony, and movement on the playing field caught her attention. The team had rearranged themselves into two concentric circles. Arms held out straight from their shoulders, each circle moved in an opposite direction with a slow, stomping gait.

  She recognized the endurance rally. Once or twice a year in their compound on Earth, everyone in the barracks, adults and children alike, participated. The drill built self-discipline and strength. It would go on for hours until the last two or three individuals shuffling in a circle were awarded medals. She had a few of those
metals herself. But it made no sense here, now, in a half-assembled colony with no food production underway. Greta vaulted up the stairs, taking risers that had been built on Earth four at a time.

  There were no windows in the tower, so she didn't see Tanaka until she paused in the open doorway. He slumped in a chair pulled from the dining table and the adjuncts surrounded him.

  Maj reached an arm out to hurry Greta inside.

  Tanaka's face had paled to white and sweat glistened across his brow. He looked up as she pressed a palm sized monitor to his chest. "Ah, Doctor Lund. Greta, my dear. So good to see you."

  His heart rate was normal. "Look left for me, please. Now right." Greta watched intently for jerky movements, but his eyes tracked smoothly. "Stand up slowly and tell me what you feel."

  The adjuncts hovered their hands close to his arms as Tanaka rose. He slowly closed and opened his eyes several times. "Spinning, floating. I don't see it, but I feel it inside."

  "Okay. Let's move him to the bedroom." The tower's top floor was divided by a panel with a single door, and Greta looked toward it, gauging the distance.

  "No," Tanaka said. "The bedroom walls are a pale color, and my eyes seem sensitive to light right now. I prefer the dark tones here in my lounge."

  That's what he called the room. Thin sheets simulating dark wood paneling covered the walls, tapestries hung on the panels, and floor cloths painted to mimic oriental rugs lay in a precise pattern. A large desk, molded with curved legs, seemed lonesome at one end, though several holographs helped fill the space. Elegant Indus Valley pottery perched on holographic plinths, and the famous Priest-King statue was enlarged to stand as tall as a man.

  Greta steered them to the comfortable furniture at the room's other end. They were halfway to the main sofa when the door from the balcony flew open.

  Yash paused to scan the room. He entered leaning forward slightly with his hands partly raised, but straightened and loosened his shoulders. His eyes remained cold.