Authors: Steven Lyle Jordan
“Where’s Stearns now?” Roy asked. “I would’ve spaced her if she’d done this on my ship.”
“She’s locked up,” Julian said. “You should’ve seen the beating Reya put on her with her good hand and her knees and elbows.”
They eventually left CnC and crowded into the conference room down the hall, either taking seats or leaning on the table or walls. Julian sat at the head of the table.
“I meant what I said,” he stated, “when I said we can’t go home. At least, not now… it’s simply not safe. We need to figure out what we are going to do.”
“Maybe it’s not too late to go back,” Aaron said. “There must be a way to work something out with Earth.”
“I think the actions of the United States were pretty clear,” Valeria countered. “They attacked us, they sent someone to kill our Ceo, and they sent someone to pose as one of us and threaten the entire satellite.” She shook her head. “I know I don’t like the idea of going back.”
“So, what do we do?” Roy asked. “Doesn’t Verdant need supplies to maintain its atmosphere, the food, the plants… everything?”
“Yes, most everything,” Julian said. “We can stretch our resources as best we can, for now, and ration and recycle other things we used to trade with Earth, as best we can. In the meantime, I think we’re going to have to take advantage of our situation. We’re going to have to become explorers.”
“Exactly,” Dr. Silver stated. “We’ve translated to a solar system that may well have most, if not all, of the raw materials we need to survive. The least we can do is to see what is at our disposal… then try to figure out where else we can look for more resources. We need to see what we can find to stretch our resources to their utmost.”
“We have ships,” Julian said. “One of them has a Verdant drive already installed on it.”
“And we can build more drives,” Dr. Silver said. “If we manufacture more probes first—certainly an easier task—they can be sent out as advance exploration drones. We can then equip a few ships to allow manned missions, for further exploration. Then we can send ships like the
Makalu
to collect materials… or send Verdant itself, if it’s easier.” She smiled and nodded at Julian. “We can do this!”
“So,” Roy stated, “we’re just supposed to wander around the galaxy… looking for supplies?”
“Well, who knows?” Dr. Silver added. “There’s always an outside chance that we can identify an Earth-like planet out there somewhere. But we have an added advantage that no other humans have ever had:
We can actually get there.
Imagine the possibilities!”
Julian nodded sagely. “Just imagine.” Julian regarded Calvin for a moment. “Dr. Rios, I know this has been especially hard on you. You have all of our sympathy. Take all the time you need to get yourself together. When you’re ready, I’d like you to work with us on creating some public service recordings about our new life out here. We’re going to need to prepare people for a very different lifestyle than they’ve been used to. Harder… leaner… but not impossible.”
Calvin had listened with guarded eyes to Julian’s instructions. Finally, he nodded and looked away. Valeria, who had sat next to him, took his hand in hers and squeezed. The signal was clear to all who saw it: Calvin Rios, at least, would not suffer his loss alone.
Julian then turned to Aaron. “Aaron, we’re going to have to work out new resource conservation schedules, and come up with a strategy for… for space exploration,” he said proudly.
Then he looked at Kris. “At the same time, let’s try to figure out a way to eventually get us home. At the very least, I imagine there are a few people on Verdant who would rather stick it out on Earth than fly around the galaxy with us. At the very least, there are two American citizens I’d really like to get rid of,” he added wryly.
Kris nodded. “Maybe we can work out some way to sneak people back to Earth, and get the remainder of our people off. We’ll have to be careful: If we’re at risk going back, it’s certain that we don’t want one of the Verdant drives to fall into the hands of hostile forces. We don’t want them coming after us before we’re ready.”
“Agreed,” Julian said, “so anything we work out will have to be an underground effort. We need to protect ourselves.”
“Earth may eventually figure out how to come after us,” Dr. Silver pointed out. “Now that they know it’s possible, the scientists of Earth will make a serious effort to figure it out. Hopefully, Aaron and my efforts to cover our research and equipment will keep them in the dark for awhile. But they’re not stupid. They’ll work it out someday.”
“Until then,” Julian said, “we’ll avoid making it easy for them… we’ll stay out of sight, until we know we can defend ourselves.” His eyes surveyed the people in the room. “It’s time for a new mission for Verdant. We are no longer a satellite. Verdant is now… a space ship. And our job is to keep it flying, as long as we can… until we can go home again.”
Julian stood up. “Let’s get busy.”
When Calvin returned home, he immediately smelled the inviting aroma of spaghetti and mushrooms, tomato sauce, zucchini, and fresh bread. He followed the aroma into the kitchen, where he found Erin working over the stove. Erin looked around in surprise when he appeared in the doorway.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, crossing over to her father and giving him a big hug. They held their embrace perhaps a bit longer than normal for them, but neither of them felt the need to break it off before the other was ready. When they did finally pull apart, Erin said, “I know it’s a bit early for dinner… but I think you need it, Daddy. We both need it.”
Calvin’s eyes roved over the kitchen, and his lungs filled with the sweet smells of one of his favorite meals. He looked at Erin, and his eyes softened for the first time in two days. Erin smiled back upon seeing a sign of her old father coming back, and momentarily, the shine of tears caught the light. Calvin nodded, and managed a smile. “Thank you, honey. Yes, I can really use it.”
Erin turned back to the stove, quickly, before she teared up again. “I’m guessing that things are going to be very different around here for a while. The net is full of talk about the missile attack, and they know we’re not over Mars any more…” She looked over her shoulder at her father. “Are we even still in the solar system?”
Calvin regarded his daughter, whom he knew was as sharp as her parents. Still smiling, he shook his head.
Slowly Erin’s mouth fell open, and her eyes widened, as she considered the implications of Calvin’s answer. She had apparently suspected as much, but getting confirmation from her father settled it. She turned back to stir the spaghetti. “No one knows when we’re going to go back… do they?”
“No,” Calvin replied, “we don’t. And yes, things will have to be different, until we do go back.”
“So, we will go home?”
“I’m sure we will,” Calvin replied. “Eventually. But we have to make sure it will be safe for us to return first. Establishing that may take some time. So… we may be out here for awhile.”
“Well, that’s okay, I think,” Erin said, not turning from her pot. “We got this far. I’ll bet we can do wonders. We’re a pretty resourceful people. And we know how to take care of each other.” Finally, she turned from the pot, and Calvin saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Now, go get freshened up for dinner… it won’t be for another ten minutes…”
She fell into her father’s arms again, and they held each other for perhaps a minute. The moment wasn’t over until Calvin peeled her off of him, and physically turned her towards the stove, where the tomato sauce threatened to boil over the edge of the pot.
“Got, it, got it!” Erin laughed, lunging for the pot. As she rescued the sauce, she said, “Go, go get cleaned up!”
Calvin smiled back, and finally turned and headed out of the kitchen. On the way to his bedroom, he passed Erin’s room… then stopped, suspecting he’d seen something out-of-place there out of the corner of his eye, retraced his steps and looked inside. There, on Erin’s bed, was her overnight pack. He stepped inside the room and walked slowly over to the bag. He reached out, and laid a hand on it. It was already packed.
Calvin’s eyes danced with conflicting emotions, though none could be said to gain the upper hand over the others. Slowly, he backed out of the room, and considered returning to the kitchen. He stood there for a long time, just staring down the hallway. But then he turned around, and continued on to the master bedroom.
When he reached it, he saw exactly what he had decided beforehand that he would see: His own overnight pack, resting on the bed, empty, zippers open.
Fifteen minutes later, Erin had the table set, and the steam from the dishes rose invitingly into the air. “Daddy! Come and get it!”
Calvin walked into the kitchen, and Erin immediately did a double-take. Calvin was still unshaven and tired in appearance, but he seemed to be standing straighter than he had in days, and the tortured look in his eyes had faded noticeably. He stepped up to the dining table, tossing a loving look at his daughter, and sat down eagerly. Erin sat down after him, and the two of them began spooning out portions onto their plates.
As Calvin ladled sauce onto his spaghetti, he said, “So, planning a little camping trip? For tonight or tomorrow?”
Erin looked at her father a bit anxiously. “Tonight. No time like the present, right?”
Calvin did not reply for a moment. When he finally raised his head, he said, “How much time are you going to give me to pack?”
~
“This is a damned silly tradition,” Reya commented just loudly enough for the nurse to hear. The nurse merely smiled down at her, and continued to push her wheelchair down the corridor towards the hospital exit. “I mean, I got shot in the hand… not the leg. I even got a local anesthetic. I can still walk.”
“I can see now,” the nurse said kindly, “why the doctor didn’t argue with you when you said you didn’t want to stay.”
As they approached the main lobby of the hospital, the nurse unexpectedly steered the wheelchair away from the doors. Reya, who was examining the fresh bandaging job done on her hand, looked up when she realized they had turned. “What?—” Then she caught sight of a man standing in the path of her wheelchair, and she smiled brightly for the first time in over a week.
“Oh, you don’t look so bad,” Lem Carter smiled down at her from above a large bouquet of roses, asters, alstroemeria and chrysanthemums. “From what I heard of the loud complaints everyone in the hospital was hearing, I figured you’d lost an arm or something.”
He held out the bouquet to Reya, who took it with her good hand and cradled it in the crook of her injured hand’s arm. “Thank you, Lem! And is this a slightly-late get-well-soon visit?”
“Actually,” Lem replied, “it’s a right-on-time pick-up. As I happen to be temporarily unemployed at the moment, I’d like to offer my services as your assistant. After all, with only one good hand, you’ll need a bit of help getting things done for a while.”
“Oh, I will, will I?” Reya said wryly.
“In fact,” Lem went on, “I have a special convalescence suite arranged just for you. You should remember the place… you recently helped me to dispose of some perishables there.”
Reya’s eyes fairly twinkled in response. “Yes, I remember the place well.” Slowly she stood up out of the wheelchair, and placed her good hand in his. “I hope you called for a hired car.”
Lem looked at her dubiously. “And what’s wrong with a tram?”
“Trams are okay,” Reya replied smoothly. “Unless you want a bit of privacy.”
~
When Julian came out of the bathroom, he lingered on the paintings on the walls, the sculptures he saw on the shelves, instead of hurrying back to the dining room table. This was the first time he had visited Kris’ flat, and he wanted to take in the aspects of her tastes that she liked to put on display. The flat had a primarily modern style, but accented with some wonderfully eclectic pieces, including two classic movie posters, a display column that rotated through various nineteenth- and twentieth-century Earth cityscapes, and a popular and critically-acclaimed twenty-first century impressionist version of the
Discobolos
. Overall, an impressive and attractive collection of art, worthy of such an incredible woman.
As he came around the corner of the hallway, he saw Kris seated on one side of a small dining table that overlooked the balcony, providing a fetching backdrop of Verdant by night. Though restrictions would change soon, Verdant’s interior was still lit up like a gridwork of stars, a model of the heavens wrapped around a cylinder of civilization. Julian momentarily reveled in the fact that it was still intact, it was still surviving, and under the care of him and his excellent staff, God willing, it would continue to do so.
His daughter Anise was on the other side of the intimate table, and she and Kris were sharing a laugh over something that he’d obviously missed while he was away. He smiled as he approached, taking them both in. “I’m glad you two are getting along so well,” he commented happily.
The women looked up at him. “And why not?” Anise said at once. “After all, any woman who manages to bring a smile like that to my father’s face deserves my undying respect!”
“Ani,” Julian said mock-sternly.
“And besides,” Anise went on, “she loves you, Daddy—”
“Anise!” Kris admonished with a laugh and a blush.
“—which means she obviously has taste.”
“And fortunately, more tact than seems to be inherent in the Lenz family,” Julian said, sitting down between them.
Anise laughed herself, and looked at her almost-empty wineglass. “I’m sorry… I’ve had more to drink than I usually do. —uh, have. Ha ha!”
“I thought as much,” Kris said, smiling kindly, and glancing at Julian. Julian suspected he knew why, and he suspected Kris had divined the reason as well: In exiling them from Earth, Julian had unfortunately taken Anise from Sergei. He wasn’t sure when it had hit her, but he knew it hadn’t hit him until just a few hours ago… and his albeit-temporary inattention to his daughter’s needs, however temporary it had been, frankly pained him. Just one more reason to hope that their situation did not last too long, and that he would hopefully manage to deliver her back to her lover soon.