Titan Cruel Moon

by Kate Rauner

  "I feel fine." Yash lifted her up by her waist and tried spinning around, but the momentum pulled him off-balance. Greta caught them with both hands on the wall they hit.

  She laughed but, once returned to the floor, thumped a fist into Yash's chest. "Don't argue with your doctor. Muscle density is the least of my worries. I can't measure metabolism and immunological responses in the clinic, and they're more important. Now tell me - how badly damaged is the dome?"

  "The pilots sliced it. Like someone started to cut a piece of pie, but only made one cut."

  "How long will repairs take? Could we erect the equipment on the surface? Put people in surface suits for treatments."

  "The motors aren't designed to run in Titan's cold."

  "How about inside Fynn's furnace dome? It would fit inside there."

  Yash rubbed his chin. "Yes, it would. Of course, the reason it has its own dome is to protect the colony, in case a part breaks off while it's spinning. Let's see how bad the dome looks before we decide."

  "Tanaka's not going to be happy. You're more right than you realize about that."

  Yash's smile flattened. "Then let's get this over with."

  They found Tanaka in his office, with the adjuncts lounging in chairs across the room, and both stood in front of his desk as usual. His eyes flickered over Yash and landed on Greta. "Doctor Lund. You didn't bring your medical bag. I would benefit from an injection."

  "Later in the evening," she said. "I noticed Yash on his way up and thought I'd come along to ask how you're feeling."

  Tanaka paused for a long moment as if making some calculation. "For years on Earth I never slept a night through. Calls from across the globe roused me, and jet lag ruined many days. Arranging financing was a game of chess. I had to be careful the mongrels caught no whiff of my true intentions. No hint of my plan for the Kin to claim Titan. My labors left me weary. And now, with my calendar clear, sleep eludes me. Except after your injections, dear doctor."

  "I'll come early this evening," she said. "In the meantime, some guided meditations should help. There are dozens on the cybernet to choose from, and many Kin tell me they ease stasis sickness. So does working in the greenhouse. Plants have a soothing effect."

  Greta turned far enough to nod to the adjuncts. ""That's a good idea for all of you. Ask Max to give you a row of beans to harvest."

  Magnus sneered, so Yash added his own suggestion. "If you don't want to work with a crew, do some systematic exploring outside. We've been on Titan for six months and have barely left the domes."

  "Perhaps it is time to explore," Tanaka said, and the adjuncts leaned forward, intent on his words. "But Yash, your message said you have news."

  Yash squared his shoulders. "Liam has started a maintenance cycle on the shuttles and will bring the Gravitron down as soon as it concludes. They had to slice the dome to extract it..."

  Tanaka's expression clouded. "They destroyed the dome?"

  "Not destroyed, no. I'm reviewing repair procedures..."

  "This is not the way it was planned and does not have my approval."

  Yash clasped his hands behind his back. "Liam and the pilots ran through the troubleshooting section of the procedure. Now they've solved a problem that dogged us for weeks. Their initiative should be applauded."

  "And you applaud, I suppose," Tanaka said.

  Yash relaxed his stance and spoke in reasonable tones. "Your talents brought us to Titan, Doctor Tanaka. Now's the time to trust the talents of your people. Let us do our jobs the way you did yours."

  Tanaka pivoted his chair, lowered his gaze, and waved Yash away with a jerk of his hand. Plastic creaked from behind and Greta turned to find Maj holding the door open.

  Yash and Greta walked to the clinic before either spoke.

  "What do you think he'll do?" Yash asked.

  Greta shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe I can talk to him after his injection tonight. The drug relaxes him and he seems more thoughtful." She hugged Yash close. "Be careful. A breakdown in leadership won't help the Kin. I already see a lot of confusion and uncertainty in my patients."

  "Don't worry. Nothing's different on Titan. Not really. Humans rely on technology to survive deserts and tundra on Earth. Our challenges are more extreme, but we have better technology. We'll be fine." He hugged her tight, and Greta rested her chin against his shoulder to hide her worried frown.

  ***

  Drew held his breath for days, it seemed. He volunteered for maintenance tasks in the noisiest part of the utility systems, where the hum of fans and throb of pumps hid him from conversation. He tried to avoid the mess hall, which wasn't easy. He couldn't eat a large enough breakfast to last all day because people were watching, but he skipped lunch several times to bury himself in the greenhouse's densest foliage. It was the one place, outside of his barracks unit with Fynn, where the bubble of fear inside didn't threaten to burst.

  Lingering in the greenhouse got him into trouble. Max swung by while searching for whitefly eggs and spotted his hiding place. "Drew, what luck. Most of my crew's washing leaves. I need extra people to shell these pinto beans." The big Farming Cohort bounced against the frame, anxious to keep moving. "Tonight will be our first meal raised entirely on Titan. I'll tell Emily I commandeered you. Maybe she can spare a few more from her crew."

  Drew joined a dozen Kin seated cross-legged on the floor with shallow baskets of shriveled, purplish pods. They cracked the pods open, flicked the beans into plastic tubs, and tossed the pods into a cargo lid for composting. Beyond their circle, baskets of squash, tomatoes, and spinach were already full.

  Max came by to check on their work.

  Drew was getting a little dizzier every time someone stole a glance at him, so he tried for a different assignment. "I could pick more beans."

  "Thanks," Max said. "But why don't you carry this batch to the mess hall and help with the cooking."

  Wobbling with his arms around the tub, Drew approached the kitchen to find Vanja programming microwaves. She squinted at him, but then, she was suspicious of everyone.

  "Hang on," she said. "Don't just drop those and leave. Pour the beans into these pots, about a third full. How'd you tear your coveralls?"

  Drew had slit the seam along his leg brace up to his knee.

  "Oh, I know." Vanja raised her voice. "Of course. You're the one."

  Drew spread his best smile across his face and smoothed his mustache, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest. "The one all you girls are mad about?"

  Her eyes narrowed. "The one who mocked Doctor Tanaka. You got what you deserved."

  Drew rubbed his palms against his coveralls and then hoisted the tub, trying not to let it tremble as he distributed beans among the pots.

  Vanja called to everyone nearby. "Look here. It's Drew Beck. The dumpster diver."

  Another woman frowned. "Vanja, leave him alone. That was terrible, what the adjuncts did."

  "Doctor Tanaka called him out." Vanja seemed eager to argue.

  The other woman wouldn't back down. "I was right behind him. I saw what happened. Those adjuncts swooped down like angels of death. I say, what they did was wrong."

  As they argued, a dizzy wave washed over Drew and his fingers went numb. He balled up his fists. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Imagine floating in the greenhouse, deep in the foliage.

  "Ladies, ladies." Adjunct Magnus appeared at the end of the counter, pale eyes cold as death. "This man causing trouble again? Maybe he needs more time in the bin to repent."

  He smirked at Drew and took a step forward.

  Drew's chest burst. His throat closed, choking off his air. He fell to his knees, eyes closed, shaking on the way down in unreal slow motion. He couldn't breathe.

  "He's having a fit." Someone grabbed his head, keeping it from hitting the floor. Hands lifted him even as he curled into a ball. Voices shouted for help and called his name, but all Drew could do was hug himself tight.

  ***

  Fynn leaned against the
wall inside the clinic entrance, arms crossed, and waited. His mother stepped from the treatment room and closed the door behind her.

  Fynn uncoiled and almost collided with her.

  Greta caught his shoulders. "Drew's okay."

  Fynn was expecting some sort of awful news, and her short report didn't stop the shaking inside. "Is it stasis sickness? Did you give him something?"

  "No. No meds. He had a panic attack. By the time I saw him, the attack had peaked, so I only had to support him through the recovery phase. He knew what he had to do."

  "What?" Fynn straightened. "Nothing like this ever happened before."

  "Actually, it has." Greta sighed. "If he hasn't told you, then I shouldn't have said anything."

  Questions filled Fynn's mind but he pushed them aside. He couldn't believe his friend was okay without seeing to him. "Can I go in?"

  "Yes. Talking to a friend helps. So does light exercise."

  "Not Kin calisthenics," Fynn said.

  Greta's lips flickered in a small smile. "No. Focus on something positive."

  Drew sat up quickly, before Fynn could step completely into the small examination room, and nearly tumbled off the table. He hung his head.

  Fynn shoved both hands into his pockets. "How're you feeling?"

  "Pretty stupid."

  "Well, don't. Mom says..."

  Drew smiled ruefully. "I know. Positive affirmations. Panic can't hurt me. I'm in control. I'm a worthwhile person."

  "You are worthwhile. You could have told me about..." Fynn pulled his hands loose and touched Drew's shoulder. "About anything. You're my best friend."

  "Okay, I'll tell you now. I feel funny inside."

  "Mom said to do something positive. I have an idea. Let's get out of here."

  Kin were trickling into the village dome, headed for their barracks. Tanaka continued to call for calisthenics before meals, and most people preferred to leave their coveralls on their beds. Growing up in barracks meant no one was especially shy, but stripping in rows while Tanaka stared down from his balcony was weird.

  Fynn hustled Drew straight across the dome, along the base of the tower, and through the tunnel. People crisscrossed aisles in the greenhouse, some putting away syringes used to wash leaves, and all ignoring them.

  They passed Ben coming from the furnace dome. "Aren't you going to calisthenics?" he asked.

  "Nope." Fynn picked up two plastic bags bulging with shriveled, white-spotted leaves. Max had been leaving packaged cuttings near the tunnel for Fynn to dispose of outside. "We've got a pass." He swung the bags. "And an important job."

  They loped across the wide-open half of the furnace dome. Pallets of ducts and piping still marked the dome's diameter, and bins lined the wall beyond. The power plant was straight ahead, and by habit, Fynn slowed his pace to scan the equipment. The block of furnaces and heat exchangers was wider than the tower base in the village dome and reached to the curve of the dome, but was otherwise surrounded by open space. Yellow-sleeved valve handles indicated which were open and closed, but he couldn't check the system without hopping up onto the platform, and Fynn resisted the urge to stop. He was taking care of Drew now. As they rounded the corner, the airlock came into view.

  "Let's go for a walk," Fynn said. "Or maybe, for a flight."

  They dragged in a pair of fliers, slipped into surface suits, and ran through the airlock procedure. Opening the outer door always put a flutter in Fynn's belly. He'd never get used to the sight. Titan's surface made him feel like a bug inside an old cantaloupe. Ice pebbles littered the shore like dark, scattered seeds.

  They used a suit-to-suit channel, but Drew stood close by Fynn's shoulder as if he were whispering. Seen from the airlock ramp, the lake reached the too-close horizon, darker than the brown haze of sky that reflected in its smooth surface. "This is your idea of cheering me up?"

  A sarcastic comment, which meant Drew was feeling better already.

  "I want to check on something." Fynn hopped off the edge of the dock ramp and Drew followed.

  In visible light, the domes loomed huge and black above them. Fynn understood their construction now. The accordioned surface twice his height was the dome's floor. Above it, just as dark but smooth, was the curve of the dome wall. A dozen bouncing steps brought them to an indented rib that ran down from the flat peak of the dome. A thick cable emerged from the rib at the floor's level and clamped into a thick anchor sunk in the ice.

  Fynn knelt to run a hand over the smooth ground and jerked on the cable, but it was too thick and tight to vibrate at all. "This is why we don't float away like a balloon. The decabots installed the anchors. They drilled out a narrow hole, slide in a heated rod, and filled the hole with liquid water to freeze hard as rock. Did you watch the video?"

  "No," Drew said. "Construction isn't my area of expertise."

  "Dad said I should study how ice behaves on Titan. Water freezes to ice-one-H first. That's the form ice takes on Earth. But Titan's colder, so it changes to ice-one-C. That's a different form, and there are more crystal structures too. I've viewed lab reports..."

  "Fascinating, I suppose. If you like ice. Now, are we going to go flying or what?"

  Fynn stood and gazed through the murk. Haze in the sky reflected light from all directions, washing out shadows. "In a minute. The ground looks different around the fission dome, don't you think?"

  "No. Does it matter?"

  "Maybe not. The dome's kinda far away. I just want a quick look." Fynn bunny-hopped, but that made him too buoyant for much forward progress. He dropped to the ground and leaned forward, pushing against the thick atmosphere with each step.

  "It's easier to fly," Drew said.

  "Walking is excellent exercise. Mom said exercise is good for you."

  "I'm never going to live down one tiny, little panic attack, am I?"

  "Nope, I'll never let you forget it. That's what you get for keeping secrets from me."

  The shielding wall around the fission dome glistened in the orange light, seeming more like ice than the tar-filmed ground.

  Fynn kicked at a pebble near an anchor - gently, because it was as hard as granite. "Does the surface look humped, here, by this block?"

  "No. If you're done..."

  Fynn grinned even though, without standing nose to nose, he knew Drew couldn't see his face. His friend sounded like himself again.

  "I need to carry Max's infested cuttings inland, and drop them somewhere where they'll never be found again. Race you to the fliers." Without waiting, Fynn kicked off at a low angle and broad jumped toward the dock.

  Chapter 19

  F ynn joined Yash and Greta at the mess hall table and fidgeted in his chair. He would politely allow Max and Emily to report first, but they weren't here yet, and it was hard to keep good news to himself. Based on their airflow data, his crew had rearranged ceiling fans in the greenhouse to disperse carbon dioxide evenly right down to floor level. And with manual control of the slipstream valve, they could deliver a trickle of gas over time instead of intermittent slugs. The change required more babysitting of the controls, but was worth it since the gas was both vital and dangerous. He took a deep breath and tried to relax.

  Max shuffled to the table but didn't sit down. "Yash, I won't be coming to your meetings anymore."

  Yash raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

  "You don't need my reports anymore," Max said. "We hit the greenhouse milestone, produced a meal's worth of protein-rich beans, and I'll ramp up production despite our little problem with the whiteflies. As of today, a quarter of the hydroponic frames are planted, and my crew can settle into a routine. If we need something from Maintenance or from your boy here..." His eyes flickered to Fynn and then back to Yash. "It's easy to simply ask them directly."

  His shoulders slumped and Max lowered his voice. "You're a good project manager, Yash. Getting the Herschel together and planning our colony was a huge job and I don't know anyone who could have handled it better. I've got n
o problem with you. But my crew... They hear rumors you're crosswise with Tanaka and don't want to be involved in that. They want peaceful days and I want a happy crew."

  Max straightened and glanced over his shoulder. "I don't think you'll see the adjuncts attending anymore either. Or Emily." The round-cheeked crew leader stood by the kitchen counters, watching, and nodded with an apologetic smile when he looked toward her.

  Yash pulled his flat pad closer and tapped at the schedule while he answered. "There'll be no need for a Chief Engineer once the Herschel is reconfigured, and at that time I'll move to the space station, so I'll be out of Tanaka's way. You'll have to decide for yourself if his demands become too great." He looked up into Max's face. "We're lucky to have you in the greenhouse, Max. I'm happy to work with you, whatever the arrangements."

  Fynn held his breath throughout the exchange. Now his anger erupted. "If you drop out of meetings, that just confirms that something's wrong. You can't do it. Dad supported you when you had problems."

  Greta laid a hand on his arm and shushed him.

  "It's okay, son," Yash said.

  "You can't be happy about this."

  "I'd rather we share status every day, but Max is right about the schedule. His first major milestone is complete. I know you'll help him with anything he might need."

  Max reached out a hand with a sheepish smile and Yash shook it. Then he walked to Emily and they left the mess hall together.

  Fynn's muscles knotted but he lowered his voice. "What's he mean about rumors? He should tell his crew the truth. That you're the reason this colony's succeeding, and that Tanaka's acting crazy."

  Greta spoke quietly. "Think of what that could mean. The Advance Team and their friends and family still in stasis, they followed Tanaka across the solar system to a moon where no one's set foot before. They see their lives as depending on him, on his vision and his leadership. We need Tanaka as much as we need you and your father."