Authors: Steven Lyle Jordan
When they finally parted, Lambert said, “Do you mean it? You’d come back with me?”
“Yes, I will,” Shay nodded, and managed a smile that suggested she was sincere. “Mind you, I do want something out of the deal.”
“And that is?”
“Everything you have, of course,” she told him honestly. “I want to be with
you
, Gaston. And I firmly believe that, no matter how badly things might turn out for you politically, you will not only manage to land on your feet, but you’ll land on cashmere and silk. And I want to be right there with you. ‘Til death do us part.”
At last, Lambert smiled and nodded. “Oho… a shotgun wedding, eh? Well, I can think of no one I’d rather be wedded at gunpoint with.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Shay said, and she leaned down and kissed him deeply. When she pulled back, she said, “I assume you received your boarding orders like the rest of the visitors.”
“I’m afraid so,” Lambert replied. “We leave tomorrow. The staff has most of our possessions packed up or locked up, and we’re to report to the freighter bay at noon.”
“Do you think you’ll have trouble finding space for me on board the flight?”
Lambert shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure there will be at least one member of the staff who’ll be willing to stay behind for their President,” he said wryly. “In fact,” he added a bit sourly, “I could probably hold a lottery.”
~
“Dammit, I only just got here!” Walter Gordon paced back and forth in the Verdant offices of RPI, amidst staffers packing boxes and shoving suitcases around. Gordon looked like he was about to haul off and slug the nearest staffer at any moment, which prompted most of them to avoid him as much as possible, and keep their heads down when they could not.
“They can’t make me leave!” Gordon had given up his under-the-breath personal monologues, and was now venting to the entire staff. “I’ve kept this place stocked with supplies for twenty years!” This, to be sure, was an exaggeration, as Gordon had not owned RPI for more than nine years… but as RPI had been part of the supplies contractors for Verdant for almost two decades, Gordon felt justified in making the assertion. “How dare they dictate terms to me!
To me
!”
A staffer, attempting to put a box down and duck out of the room as soon as possible, stumbled in his haste, and almost dropped the box on Gordon’s foot. “
Look out
, you clod!” Gordon snapped, and took a swipe at the worker, but the worker avoided the blow and ducked back out of sight.
“
Dammit!
We should at least be able to bring our property with us, instead of leaving it to be pillaged by the locals!” Not that anyone really expected Verdant’s residents to “pillage” anything, but everyone else seemed to act as if leaving their property behind was tantamount to leaving raw meat behind for a pack of dogs, and Gordon has taken the same attitude.
“And as if we’re going to go anywhere! This is all a bunch of hocus-pocus
bullshit
!” This, despite the fact that everyone had seen the videos recorded from that morning, plainly showing the disappearance and reappearance of the
Makalu
, as advertised.
“It’s
bullshit
!” Gordon repeated with venom. “I’m going to sue the U.N. over this! I’ll bring this
entire satellite
down!” He kicked a nearby box and sent it skidding across the floor, causing more than one staffer to jump out of the way.
Meanwhile, Gordon fumed. “If I can’t stay here…
no one
will stay here.”
~
As evening fell over Verdant, Calvin sat in his living room watching news footage of the packing visitors throughout the satellite. Many of them were interviewed by reporters, and they complained bitterly about having to leave so abruptly, having to leave businesses and colleagues behind, having to leave property behind.
Other reporters would then appear, describing the efforts taken by some visitors to hide themselves and avoid being sent home, only to be found by Verdant security and escorted to their place of temporary residence, or some other place where their whereabouts could be determined by noon tomorrow.
And throughout it all, Calvin watched, looking for, but repeatedly telling himself he was
not
looking for, a sign of his wife lurking about somewhere, waiting for her chance. He had turned down an opportunity to see the
Makalu
on its test-flight that morning. He’d refused to come into the studio to do additional voice-overs that afternoon. He wanted nothing to do with the flight… because he knew what would happen when it left.
And still, he tried to tell himself it didn’t matter.
“Just get me through tomorrow,” he told himself repeatedly. “Just get me through tomorrow.”
Despite a last-minute offer, a promise that early boarders would be given first opportunity to return to Verdant when the crisis was over, very few of those slated to leave on the
Makalu
had shown up before noon. But veiled suggestions that security would punish stragglers resulted in almost everyone bound for the flight to Earth showing up at the same time, just minutes before noon.
CnC had already radioed Earth to expect them, but had not given a specific time, and this was exactly why. The freighter bay was pandemonium as visitors lined up to be herded onto the freighter. A lot of luggage and packages were also brought, and workers and equipment borrowed from the passenger and delivery bays had to be brought in to catalog everything being loaded. Many people showed up with too much, far exceeding the mandatory cargo limits they had been given, causing more chaos as property had to be taken aside and marked to be returned to storage, and the owners screamed over the inconvenience.
Reya and Aaron had come to the bay in order to provide direct access to command orders, and to make sure no one tried to pull rank on the security staff. But by 12:30, even they were overwhelmed by the chaos. Reya threatened to go hoarse as she shouted commands back and forth through the bay, and Aaron looked ready to bolt in sheer terror at any moment.
In the freighter bay, a large entourage had just arrived. President Lambert and his staff marched in, many of them carrying suitcases, bags and satchels, or wheeling boxes strapped to hand-trucks. Security quickly organized a lane that gave them access to the Makalu’s cargo entrance, and through shouted demands and plaintive cries directed at them, Lambert and his people made their way aboard.
Many people ironically protested the special treatment being given to Lambert and the presidential staff. Even as they were about to board, people in line for boarding were shouting out for someone to come and take their place. Incredible amounts of money were being offered as incentive to trade places with them, right then and there. In addition, many people who had managed to arrange a trade, but who had not brought proper documentation of the trade, clogged up the security teams trying to verify individuals and get everyone aboard.
As Lambert’s people filed their way in, security scanned each ident to match it to a returnee. Enu Thompson had already passed through security, and was watching the rest of the staff who came through in order to make sure their luggage and cargo was properly handled. Abruptly, he noticed a woman he did not recognize, and who carried only a backpack and no other luggage, filing in with the rest of the staff. He started to step forward and inquire who she was, when the woman’s ident was scanned, and an automated voice announced her as Colonel Emily Stearns.
Thompson smoothly stepped back, and allowed the woman to pass him and enter the freighter.
Roy Grand watched many of the passengers as they entered the ship and found seats. Almost before he realized it, he was suddenly confronted by Walter Gordon, his staff in tow.
Gordon’s gaze bore into him, and he growled, “You’re taking this act of piracy very calmly, aren’t you, turncoat?”
Roy smiled. “And why not? Ceo Lenz has already paid me and my crew four times my usual salary for these runs.” He put his hand on his hips. “Besides, what’re you complaining about? He offered to buy the
Makalu
from you, outright, when this is over!”
“At what, a quarter of the cost?
Pah
!” He spat on the deck at Roy’s feet, and glared at him. “I won’t forget this, turncoat. You’ll never work for any supplies company again!”
“Uh-huh,” Roy sniffed. “Go find your seat, and try not to piss anyone else off.” And with that, he turned and walked away from his former boss.
~
In CnC, Julian and Kris watched the activity on the central workstation. An overhead camera was trained on the boarding area around the freighter, giving them a bird’s eye view of the disorder. Julian looked on impassively, but Kris bit her lip in consternation as people were herded and ordered about, pushing and shoving, and punctuated by the occasional person being brought in by security, presumably because they had been avoiding arrival but got caught hiding somewhere.
“What a disaster,” Kris finally said aloud. Julian glanced at her, but said nothing. “You would have thought we could keep things better organized than this.”
“We could have,” Julian told her, “if those people actually wanted to go home.”
In a corner of the screen, Kris noticed a commotion. At first, she thought nothing of it, as there were many commotions going on at that moment. But in time, she realized that at the center of the commotion was a man, and unlike the others, he seemed to be fighting to get aboard the freighter! At one point, the man was jostled by another person in line, and when his face came about, it was caught on camera. Kris’ face frowned.
“Julian.” She pointed at the man on the column. “Isn’t that…?”
Julian looked carefully at the man, and in a moment, his mouth fell open. “Dr. Rios?”
~
“No, I’m not going!” Calvin insisted to the security girl at the entrance to the freighter. “I have to see the passengers! I have to verify—”
“What’s going on?” Calvin turned to see Reya Luis at his side, looking from him to the security girl. “Doctor, what are you doing here?”
“I’ve got to get aboard,” Calvin told her plaintively. “I need to… I need to see who’s leaving.”
“Are you looking for someone in particular?...” But even as Reya asked, she had a sick feeling inside that she already knew the answer. One look at Calvin’s face confirmed her suspicions.
Reya turned to the security girl, and said, “Let him on. And make sure he gets off!”
“Thank you,” Calvin was already saying, as he elbowed his way past and dashed onto the ship.
Calvin reached the bay, and skidded to a stop. The large hold had been converted to rows upon rows of seats, most of which were already filled with passengers. Many of them looked up at his rushed entrance, but said nothing to him. He looked at them in turn, then began scanning the entire bay, looking at faces in each seat, seeking only one.
I know she’s here.
It was so chaotic outside, it would have been easy for her to slip in through the security, who were probably only checking listed names against idents, not bothering too closely about faces…
Calvin almost ran into a man carrying an RPI flight bag, who seemed to be acting as belligerently as he could get away with, without being sedated by the authorities. “
Watch it!
I don’t need you pirates pushing me into a seat, I’ll sit down when I’m good and ready!...” Calvin mumbled an apology, stumbled around the luggage that seemed to surround the man, and gave the man’s staff a quick once-over before moving on.
As he moved through the bay, he came across the section set aside for President Lambert and his staff. Lambert himself, milling about and talking to various people, noticed Calvin as he stepped into the area. “Doctor Rios? Is there something we can do for you?”
“No… no,” Calvin said. “Just… checking things…” Lambert went back to conversing with the others, and Calvin gave a quick glance through the section, not expecting to see anyone familiar among the President’s staff, though all the way in the back, he noticed a very dejected-looking Anton Lavary, looking much like he expected this was going to be his last flight on anything for quite some time—
And that was when another pair of eyes locked with his, in the back of the Presidential section. He did a double-take, and slowly turned in the direction of the woman in the back of the bay. And at that moment, the woman turned to him fully, her eyes wide, like an animal that knew it had been found in its hiding place.
Calvin could not move. He knew it would be… but he hadn’t really wanted to believe it. He’d wanted
desperately
for it not to be so. But there was Maria, seated covertly in the back of the freighter bay, cowering before his gaze.
She was really going to leave me
. His eyes fixed hers, and his thoughts were clear to her:
How could you? What did I do to deserve this?
Maria’s eyes were equally expressive:
Nothing, Darling. I’m sorry, but I have to do this… for me.
Calvin silently moved his lips to form a single word:
Erin?
Maria shook her head.
No. Not even for her.
To Calvin, the world seemed to recede… or himself, to shrink. Slowly, Maria lowered her eyes, then her head, and she herself seemed to shrink into the seat. And slowly, painfully, the bond between husband and wife snapped like a rotted string, and fell away like dust on the wind.
Eventually, Calvin started to back away, slowly, until he was clear of the bay and could no longer see his wife. Then he turned and trudged up the access ramp, past the last of the people boarding the freighter. He stepped past the security girl, not hearing her spoken question to him, and made his way through the bay.
“Doctor?” Reya Luis was by his side, before he realized it. “Did you find her?”
Calvin turned to Reya, his eyes sunken and moist. “My wife,” he said deliberately, “was not on board.”
And he continued on, out of the bay.
~
“Is this really such a good idea?” Hunter asked his superior officer. Next to him, Goldie was making the last adjustments to her flight suit, and listening intently.