Change Horizons: Three Novellas (17 page)

“She’s a cold-hearted, manipulative, insane know-it-all!” Meija Solimar stormed into the foreman’s office and threw herself into a chair. “She thinks we’re dealing with bloody cattle and not humans who require a damn
life
aboard these mastodon ships she’s building. The specs aren’t even fit for livestock, come to think of it. A cow requires certain things to produce milk fit for human consumption. She’ll end up producing hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people gone space mad!”

Gessley Barr, normally a soft-spoken, authoritative man, regarded Meija with obvious caution, as if trying to figure out how to defuse her. This wasn’t the first time she’d exploded while trying to deal with the woman in charge of building the ships that would save the Oconodian people, but now Meija knew if she had to lay eyes on the infuriatingly stubborn Chief Engineer Korrian Heigel, there was likely to be bloodshed.

Gessley eyed her tentatively. “This has to be a record. It’s the third time this week alone that you’ve been in here tearing your hair out over the boss.”

“She’s not my
boss
.” Meija spat the words but then relented. This wasn’t Gessley’s fault. He carried out Heigel’s orders like everyone else, civilian or military, because it was his job. But Meija was an independent contractor working for the Social and Cultural Department. She didn’t take her orders from Heigel but from the minister of her department alone. Her job was to make sure life was sustainable aboard the massive vessels being constructed in orbit around Oconodos, from a social-anthropological point of view. This task sent her on a perpetual collision course with Heigel.

“Barr, I need more engineers working on—” As if conjured up by Meija’s rage, Korrian Heigel flung the door open, spitting orders before she was even inside Gessley’s office. Spotting Meija, she pressed her lips into a fine line. “Ah, so this is where you come to get your bruised ego patted.”

“Now there’s a sign of an enormous ego if I ever saw one. Why would you assume that I’m bruised? Regardless of your lack of manners, I’m tougher than I look.”

“I would hope so if I were you.” Heigel sauntered over to the desk and rested her hip against it, effectively towering over the two of them, who were sitting down. She was as sexy as she was intimidating, not to mention frustrating. “I don’t know how many times I have to explain to a civilian just what’s at stake here. We can’t humor your romantic ideas of ‘generational space cities.’ We have to make sure we have enough bunks for close to two million individuals before this curse, or plague, turns us into something our species won’t survive. We have less than twenty years to do this. You
know
this, Meija.”

“I know the facts and the figures as well as you do.” Meija had never heard Heigel use her first name before. Normally she called her Solimar or, on even worse days, “you there.” “That doesn’t mean you can ship people like they were less than cattle. If you were to do this, you’ll have stark-raving-mad people after only a few years, maybe just months. Unless the scientists have developed cryo-sleep that won’t actually kill you, racking and stacking the people on the ships won’t
work.
”

“See what I have to listen to every single day?” Heigel flung her hands into the air. She was a stunning, tall woman with warm-toned, chocolate-colored skin. Black hair in ringlets tumbled out from the cap of her uniform. Adorned with silver trim around the edges, it was the first obvious sign of her rank as a senior officer.

Stark, icy gray eyes looked at Meija with barely concealed annoyance. Her straight, wide nose with delicate nose wings that often gave away the fact she was about to explode was contradicted by the fullness of her curvy lips. Normally, Meija would find such a mouth a hard-to-resist temptation, but when all the words that came across them were disdainful, impatient, and frustrated—hell, Heigel was still damn attractive, no matter her lack of manners or ability to cooperate. It was disheartening to know that no matter what, Heigel would never regard her in any other way than with cold exasperation.

“If you could at least try to spell the word ‘compromise,’ then we could have a slim chance of producing a prototype of a ship that our leaders can agree on. As it is now, Heigel, you’re creating more problems than you’re solving.” Meija crossed her arms.

“Have you listened to yourself? Can’t you hear how condescending and overbearing you sound? And my name is Korrian. You constantly point out that I’m not your boss, so stop referring to me as Heigel. I keep looking for my father when you do that.”

This sudden trace of humor was so unexpected, Meija blinked and merely stared. “All right. Korrian. I’m Meija.”

Nodding curtly, Korrian relaxed marginally and sat down on Gessley’s desk. “How the hell do we work together to keep Ms. Desomas happy?”

“I don’t really care how happy or unhappy Desomas is. I worry what would happen to the population if they’re suddenly imprisoned and confined to less space than the inmates in the current prisons are.”

“The ships will save them, not imprison them!” Korrian slammed her palm onto her thigh.

“What will they do in their spare time, day after day, year after year?”

“Survive.”

Jumping to her feet, Meija glowered at Korrian, trying desperately to reach her and not antagonize her further. “Surviving isn’t enough. It never is. You have to live. Laugh. Love your family, your spouse, your parents. Spend time with them. Play. Especially the children need to play, but the adults too. The youngsters will need places to meet and socialize, and learn the skills they need to navigate through relationships. If they’re confined to your tiny cubes, yes, we will get more people aboard each vessel, but we’ll see morale deteriorate very rapidly, probably within months after the novelty wears off.”

“What do you think of this type of reasoning, Barr?” Korrian whirled to face the man who clearly tried to look inconspicuous behind his desk.

“Both of your standpoints have merits. We need to save as many as possible, so compromising the size of the quarters is prudent.” Gessley cleared his throat and studied the ceiling. “I’m trying to picture myself aboard one of the Exodus ships, and the idea of being kept, fed, and stored is not very appealing.”

“Every basic need will be met,” Korrian said, frowning.

“We have other basic needs than merely surviving.” Meija made sure her tone was even. “People need a purpose, something to strive for, to play with, and to imagine. If we place them in tiny cubes with no options but to eat and sleep, soon you’ll have riots and downright mutinies.”

“Your job isn’t going to be easy, Commander Heigel.” Gessley laced his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. “I know Meija is coming on strong here, but she has a point. Our leaders have initiated Project Exodus, and soon the advance team will leave orbit to explore and reconnoiter a new home for us. I can’t even imagine the burden that lies on your shoulders, but don’t let our leaders’ anxiety attacks steer you off target. The ships will carry our people for decades, maybe even longer, to a new home.”

Korrian opened the top button of her uniform jacket and sat down in the chair next to Meija. “I have lived, breathed, and dreamed these specs and my prototype for five years now. Ever since the so-called plague became public knowledge, this has become my reason for existing. I have daily messages from politicians and different governmental departments demanding I squeeze beds and cots into every possible area of the ships. Don’t either of you have the audacity to claim I don’t give this enough thought.”

Meija hadn’t realized how much pressure Korrian must be under. She’d only seen the woman’s pigheaded, opinionated approach. Her own frustration—she willingly admitted to be something of a hothead as well—had probably done very little to help Korrian see reason.

“I’m not saying that. Ah, well, I guess that’s what I’ve been implying, isn’t it?” Meija grunted. “If we can compromise, you should be able to come up with a prototype that allows for maximized passenger numbers and still make it the home it has to be—what?”

Korrian sat up straight, her eyes narrow slits. She didn’t look angry or annoyed, though, merely focused. “What did you say?” she asked slowly.

Suddenly nervous, Meija cast a glance at Gessley. “A prototype that can maximize—”

“No, not that. You said, make it a home.” Getting up from the chair, Korrian began pacing, a familiar sight by now. “A home. Not merely transportation.” She muttered under her breath as she pulled out a computer sheet and tapped it. She drew new lines, punched in commands, and it was as if she had completely forgotten she wasn’t alone. “Use the light-sensors to propel…add extra output…less need for propulsion energy.” Korrian stopped and looked at Meija and Gessley as if she’d forgotten who they were. “Meija, you’ve been on my case since day one. Now’s your chance to get some of your ideas through. That means you’re going to have to reside in the engineers’ quarters rather than the space station.”

Meija tried to follow Korrian’s thought process but failed, mostly. “You—are you saying suddenly you want my input?” What had happened the last few minutes?

“Won’t it thrill you that some of your outlandish ideas might have merit?” Korrian gave a crooked smile. “I would’ve thought so, as I have no problem recollecting your endless chatter about quality of life and areas to
breathe
in.”

“Of course I want you and the authorities to listen.”

“We have two days to get the first blueprints and model done. This will take some unconventional problem-solving.”

“Why can’t I stay at the hotel on the space station?” Meija had lived in the hotel for two months now and didn’t mind the short shuttle trip between the station and the space-dock where the prototype vessel was being built.

“I have to have access to you and your input around the clock, and I can’t wait for the shuttle to carry you back and forth. If you’re going to contribute, you’re going to have to forfeit the luxuries and share a room here.”

Meija had just begun to consider the idea of living at the local crew quarters but hadn’t counted on that last part. “Share a room? With whom?” She knew, of course, since Korrian looked a tad ill at ease. “Share your quarters?”

“As chief engineer, my quarters are more spacious than the others.” Korrian shrugged. “I can’t come up with a better solution, can you?”

Meija thought fast. On one side, she would finally have a chance to influence the design of the ships that would save the Oconodian people, and on the other, she’d have to stay in such close proximity to the woman who had made her life living hell for so long. Meija looked down at her hands, so tightly clasped her fingertips were white. “All right,” she heard herself say. “I’ll have my things sent over. I trust you’ll give me some closet space?”

“Sure.” Did Korrian sound relieved, or was Meija’s imagination playing tricks on her?

“Excellent,” Gessley said, and rounded his desk. “This will work very well, I can feel it.”

“We’ll see.” Korrian buttoned her jacket and adjusted her cap. “Go sort your things out, Meija. I’ll be at the drawing board in the main studio. Barr, get me four more engineers, at least. I don’t care who you have to schmooze. Just do it.”

Meija merely nodded, still a little shell-shocked at what had been decided so hastily. She watched Korrian stride out the door and cross the main walkway, heading back to do her job. How was it possible that she suddenly was in this position of power and influence? Going from frustrated consultant to working closely with the brilliant woman in charge of constructing the only way for their people to survive boggled her mind.

Korrian gripped the laser pen and began working. Using the old draft as a template, she tried to remember all the things Meija had said that she had blown off as utter nonsense. Had she been so blinded by her own ambition to succeed and the desire to prove herself to her superior officers? As she’d told Barr and Meija, she’d lived and breathed this project for years on end, and at the rate the population changed and spread in some parts, they couldn’t complete it fast enough. Physicians and geneticists had declared they’d lose control of the situation if the planet-wide evacuation didn’t take place within two decades.

Now, for the first time in ages, she found herself reenergized and motivated to look at the project from a new angle. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why she’d resisted even trying a new concept, other than that she’d been stuck—and fatigued after working with hardly any days off for too long.

Meija Solimar had blasted into the space-dock, a strange and rare bird among the homogenous group of engineers and ships’ mechanics. Dressed in her very new Oconodian uniform adorned with insignia rank of provisional non-commissioned officer, she’d looked fresh-faced and idealistic. Korrian wondered if Meija’s ethereal beauty, which made her look younger and unseasoned, had made her not listen to her opinions.

“So this is where the magic happens.” As if conjured from Korrian’s thoughts, Meija showed up to her left, smiling carefully. “I don’t pretend to know anything about blueprints or technical drawings, but even I can understand that this is top-of-the-line technology. Our leaders spare no expense.”

“Nor should they if they want to save the Oconodians.”

“Some of the Oconodians.” Meija’s light-green eyes darkened. “The changed ones are still Oconodians.” Something, a catch, in Meija’s voice made Korrian stop what she was doing and put her laser pen down.

“These changes they’re going through, whether called the plague or the curse, puts them on a collision course with the rest of us. As they’re growing in numbers and the incidents where normal—”

“Normal.” Meija’s lips tensed. “An interesting word. Especially when wielded against something we don’t understand and which is much bigger than us.”

“Are you saying I’m prejudiced? Or merely uneducated?”

“No. There have been far too many incidents where Changed individuals have used their superior strength or mental powers to injure unchanged Oconodians. I just don’t want to believe that all those instances happened deliberately or with malice.”

“I see. Evidently someone close to you has Changed.” Korrian pushed a tall stool closer to the work area. “You don’t have to respond to that. It’s really none of my business. Take a seat. We have work to do.” Looking up at Meija, she could see that her words had struck a nerve. Meija, paling slightly, merely nodded and climbed onto the stool.

“Very well. You seem to have altered the original plans a bit already.” She pointed at the images on the sheet. “This looks like a strange sort of bicycle wheel.”

“Just a rough sketch. Something you said about the ships becoming the passengers’ home. I suddenly saw the design in my mind. Twenty ships altogether. Average one hundred thousand individuals on each vessel. Two in the center, eighteen others in a circle around them, all connected with the center ones by roads in the shape of spokes on a wheel, so to speak. Magnetic locks will keep the ships together in this shape, and the two in the middle will hold the propulsion system. By constructing the ship this way, I can make the other vessels in the outer ring much larger without compromising speed or wasting resources. In fact, it will actually be beneficial in the long run.” Korrian again watched Meija’s expression change—from grave to curious to excited.

“You’re serious?” Meija leaned forward and her unruly ponytail landed on the drawings. “Oh. Sorry.” Smiling broadly, she tucked the strawberry-blond tresses into her cap. “So, what am I looking at here?” She pointed at the part of the drawing Korrian had just changed.

“That’s the addition. I can add about twenty-five percent of space to each ship without compromising speed or structural integrity. The bridge will be located here, in the middle, directly connected to both of the center ships.”

“And this?” Meija tapped with a perfectly manicured blunt nail on the sheet. “These areas running along—”

Ear-splitting thunder rolled through the dock toward them. Korrian looked up and went cold at the sight of loose objects being hurled through the air. “Down!” She tugged frantically at Meija and pulled her onto the floor. Covering the slighter body with her own, she closed her eyes and held on to Meija, who in turn hid her face against Korrian’s shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Meija called out, then coughed as dust whipped at them. “What the hell was that?”

“Damn if I know.” Korrian struggled to get up; the floor was still trembling because as the inertial dampeners had not yet recovered. “I have no one working on anything remotely explosive or combustible. Stay here.” She pushed away from the table and began walking on the still-unsteady floor toward the door leading to the space-dock.

“No way. I’m going with you.” Meija caught up with her. “Your temple is bleeding.” She reached into her pockets and pulled out a tissue. “Here.”

Grudgingly, Korrian accepted it and pressed it to the side of her head, which throbbed badly. Examining the tissue, she saw that the cut was worse than she’d expected. “Guess I might need repairing.”

“You’re not dizzy, are you?” Meija placed a gentle hand at the small of Korrian’s back.

The touch elicited a shudder that traveled up her spine and down the back of her legs. Korrian sucked in her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

They moved carefully between tipped-over cabinets, tables, and chairs. In the distance the alarm klaxons blared consistently. Finally they reached the tall doors leading into the vast hall that contained all the equipment, tools, and doors to the different airlocks. The doors leading out to open space, where they were building the prototype while outfitted with space suits and mini tool-shuttles, had several backup systems. As long as the reason for the explosion was unknown, she couldn’t assume the safety systems hadn’t been compromised.

“I see two guys over there, on all fours, but moving at least.” Meija pointed to the left. “And one more behind them. How many were working in here?”

“Six, unless they were fetching something from storage or”—Korrian motioned with her head toward the airlocks—“or outside. I have to reach the comm system over there by the main computer console. Do you think you can help the guys and look for the missing ones? I’ll be right there to help you.”

“Sure.” Meija narrowed her eyes and focused on Korrian’s temple. “The bleeding’s stopped for now. Just keep that tissue handy. You’re going to need to see a doctor.”

“Later.” Korrian nodded briefly and turned to make her way through the rubble. She walked a few paces then turned. “Meija? Be careful.”

“You too.”

Shuffling through the mess of tools and other equipment toward the computer, she saw increasing activity outside the view ports and hoped nobody had to pay with their life for whatever had caused the mayhem around them. Reaching the console, she opened the emergency communication channel. “Emergency, emergency, this is Chief Engineer Korrian Heigel. What’s going on?”

A female voice replied. “Dispatch here. What’s your status, Commander Heigel?”

“So far no fatalities. I have Meija Solimar here and she’s searching our facility looking for my staff. I’ve seen three of them move but don’t know the extent of their injuries. Any idea what caused the explosion?”

“Not yet, ma’am. We’ve deployed rescue teams as one of the airlocks on the lower decks disengaged. We think that was the origin of the explosion.”

“Is Colonel Rayginnia there?”

“Ma’am, the colonel is among the injured. She was conducting a tour of the space-dock for some members of the Main Ministry.”

“Oh, damn. We have ministers roaming around the facility and
this
happens?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right. Dispatch emergency personnel to my location. I’ll help Ms. Solimar conduct a search-and-rescue until they get here. Heigel out.” Hurrying back to where she’d left Meija, she found the first man, one of her engineers, sitting on the floor with a makeshift tourniquet around his thigh. A metal bar had perforated his calf and now he was grayish and pale.

“Belonder, how are you doing?” Korrian knelt next to the young man.

“Not too bad, Commander. Ms. Solimar is very capable.”

“Help’s on the way. Just stay put and they’ll take care of you.” Korrian moved to the other two. A woman was cradling the head of a man lying on the floor next to her. Korrian recognized two junior engineers, fresh out of a prestigious university in Conos, the capital. The man’s head was a bloody mess.

“Commander…” The woman looked up, wide-eyed and pale. “The cabinet fell, and, and, Toimi, he, the tools just—”

“Shh. Just stay with him. Help’s on the way. Do you hear me, Reeva? Emergency personnel are coming.” Korrian knelt and felt for Toimi’s pulse. Fast and thin, but it was there against her fingertips, and he was breathing. “Call out for me if you need me. I have to check for the others. Were all six of you in here?”

“No. Just Chassine. The others went off duty an hour ago.” Reeva kept caressing Toimi’s cheek. “That new woman, she went over there. Chassine’s station.” Sobbing quietly, Reeva pointed to the far left of the hall.

“I’ll go and check on them. Hang in there.” Korrian made her way, not without difficulty, as this was where they kept the large disks for the mainframe computers. Made of metal-infused glass, they had shattered and left sharp edges everywhere. She hoped some had survived with the backup plans and blueprints intact, but that wasn’t her main concern right now. Rounding two overturned desks, she gasped as she saw two uniformed legs sticking out from under a third desk, which in turn was buried under a large shelf.

“Meija?” Korrian bent down and tried to see what was going on.

“Korrian! Chassine’s in here. She’s stuck.”

“Vital signs?”

“Pulse is very weak and her breathing is shallow. I’ve managed to support her head enough to help her breathe every now and then. I think she has bruised or broken ribs. We’re going to need the portable crane.”

“Got it. Help’s on the way. I’ll go see if the ceiling crane is working. Will you be all right?”

“Sure, I will. I just ho—” Another explosion, this time farther away, shook the facility. The bookcase slid toward Korrian, who realized it would end up on Meija’s legs if she didn’t stop it. Throwing herself at the shelf with all her might, Korrian looked around for something to prop up against it. Anything. Her eyes fell upon a canister of metal bars, but there was no way she’d be able to reach it. “Meija, you need to back out as fast as you can.”

“I can’t leave Chassine.”

“And I can’t hold the shelf up away from your legs much longer. You have to get out. Now!” Did this woman argue about absolutely everything?

“All right.” Meija shimmied out from under the desk and jumped to her feet. “Oh, hell, what do you need?”

“Grab some of the metal bars over there.” Grunting, Korrian braced herself against the slipping shelf. “Hurry!”

Pushing through the rubble, Meija reached the canister and took several of the heavy bars, which she carried back and pushed against the shelf and wedged against the floor. Korrian had to admit she was impressed, a feeling that didn’t decrease when Meija dived back under the desk as soon as the last metal bar was in place.

“Korrian, she’s not breathing!”

“Will I fit in there?”

“I…don’t think…so.” Meija was clearly breathing with Chassine. “Just get help.”

Korrian glanced over her shoulder. “They’re here. I’ll go find the damn hoist.”

Korrian worked tirelessly for the next two hours. The emergency personnel had taken care of the wounded, with the exception of Chassine, right away. Meija, of course, refused to surrender her spot under the desk. She didn’t emerge until Korrian and Gessley managed to lift the shelf and then the desk away from the unconscious woman. The emergency personal had given her equipment to help keep breathing for Chassine when the young woman stopped, which she did every four or five minutes.

“You all right?” Korrian said, and quickly steadied Meija when she wobbled. “Easy.”

“Just a bit light-headed.”

“Hardly surprising since you’ve been cramped in there for so long.”

“Chassine is so young. She’ll be all right, won’t she?” Meija wiped at her wet lashes.

“No matter what, she has you to thank for stabilizing her.” Korrian pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Now that we’ve evacuated everybody, we need to get cleaned up before LEO wants to interview us. Crime scene investigators are waiting to take over as well.” Korrian had dealt with Law Enforcement Orbit before and knew they wouldn’t leave anything to chance.

“So we’re sure this was manmade and not an accident?” Meija rubbed at her lower back and frowned.

“No, not sure, but two explosions in totally unrelated places, nearly at the same time?” Shrugging, Korrian guided Meija through the rubble. “You hurt your back, didn’t you?”

“No, I’m fine. Just need to clean up a bit, like you said.”

“My, or should I say
our,
quarters are on deck ten. Come on.” Not quite thinking, she wrapped her arm around Meija’s shoulders. “We need a break.”