“I just wish she wasn’t so much like her old man,” Cuthbert said as he struggled to get up. “You noticed that lately? She used to be such a fine lass. Turns more into him every day.”
“The worst thing about it,” Thax continued, becoming lost in his thought, since he was contemplating having another beer, “is I may have actually followed what you were trying to say.”
“She is, right? Exactly like her old man?”
“A regular TC junior.”
“The son he never had.”
That caused them to both laugh.
“You know what we need to do?” asked Thax. “We need to get our guns cleaned.”
“The Beast will be happy if we did, I know that,” said Cuthbert.
* * * *
“Just ignore them.”
This was TC’s advice for Dawn-Star. After years of them treating her in the same manner, and after years of complaining, all TC could offer as advice was that she should ignore them. She would have preferred to hear that he understands, or that she doesn’t think they’re funny, or that he needs to tell them to try a different approach. He could tell them to talk to her like she was a normal person. She knew very well they were only acting like that because it was some backward attempt to impress TC, but she could never bring herself to tell him that. They were his two main technicians, and he had known them for years, so he remained loyal to them. She had always sensed that there was a barrier between them and her, like TC did not entirely trust them, or even like them. Like everyone else in TC’s life, they were there because he needed to use them, not for friendship, and that included her.
“Yeah, I do ignore them,” she said, noting that the bottle had disappeared and he seemed fairly sober. “But it might have been better if you had gone and told them. If that’s all you want from me, I’m off now.”
“With this face?” TC said in mock horror as he looked in the mirror. “I would have to get washed and scrubbed, just to resemble that superstar pilot they know. Before you go, I have one more thing for you. I need you to go find …”
“Another message?” Dawn-Star was getting exasperated. She had volunteered to help him out, as if she owed him something, but now she was feeling tired. “If you need to talk to people face-to-face …”
TC was all apologetic. “Jupe. I need to see him. We are about to leave. I need to see him. To say goodbye. Are you happy now? You made me admit it. I want to say goodbye, that’s all.”
Dawn-Star was interested in this side of TC, as she had not seen much of it before. “You have gone away on lots of long voyages. Far longer than some Ancian flyby. Never remember you wanting to do that with any of us. What’s different now? Has this got something to do with Lars Best?”
“This is my last flight. There you go; I’ve admitted it. I don’t know if I will be coming back. I don’t even know if I want to come back. I’m done with Earth.”
“You’ve said this before.”
“I mean it now. Sorry, Dawn, but this time’s for real.”
“You tell me this now? How long have you been planning that? What does that mean for me? I’m never going to see you again? You know I’m getting married and planning on starting a family? You don’t want any of that? You’re leaving me like that? And wow, thanks for only telling me now.”
“You can come out and see me?”
“To Ancia?” She didn’t add, Are you kidding? but she wanted to.
“Of course not Ancia,” he replied, almost angry. “T Station.”
“Where?” she asked, as in not there either?
“Yeah, T Station. I know a lot of people out there. I can get a nice little retirement plan going. Put my feet up. But you can make it out there, to pay our old man a visit? You liked the T when you lived there.”
“I hated it. I can’t believe you’re only telling me this now. Sure, we always knew you wanted to retire to the T, but since when are you ready to retire?”
“So, can you find me Jupe? I know he’ll never make it as far as the T. Such a waste, that kid. Come on, Dawn, I just want to see my son one last time. You don’t have to understand, and I don’t know if I do either. Some kind of fatherly instinct. Can you do it for me? Can you? Just ask him. He doesn’t have to agree, or even acknowledge that I’m still alive, or was ever alive, if he wants. Just as long as I know I gave him that opportunity. You know I want to apologise to him, if I can, if he’ll hear me out. You made me admit that, are you happy? I have to apologise to my son, and you’re not letting me. Just ask him, that’s all. I just want to know it was offered to him, and that’ll be enough.”
Dawn was almost gagging at the sight of her father being sentimental, as she didn’t believe a second of it. She saw that there was another reason, that he was trying to hide from her.
“I already did see him,” she said, “and told him about the flight. Told him you’re not coming back, that you’re living at the T; all of that. I was just teasing, but now I see I was right to say all that. He said no.”
She thought she saw a trace of tear in his eyes.
* * * *
Justin Hopewood was a man unaccustomed to small-talk and patience. If he thought he should say something, then he just said it, regardless of where he was and who he was talking to. The fact that he was in his own home, and his only daughter was dropping some big news on him, only made him worse.
“What are you telling me?” Justin fired at Rebbi with a booming voice, making the family gathering seem more like a negotiation for peace in a war-zone, where the slightest word out of place would signal a round of weapon fire.
Like everyone else, the Hopewoods had followed news of Ancia and the lucky colonists, and knew that they had zero chance to ever be a part of it. The UDE were not taking anyone older than fifty, or not famous, wealthy or extremely talented. Many people were so utterly desperate to see the new world, that they would try to go by illegal means, and be shot down before their ships even reached orbit. Never had the Hopewoods considered that their oldest child would be one of the desperate.
Rebbi chose her words even more carefully than the ones she started out with. “Don’t think I haven’t given this a lot of thought, Daddy. I have, and it is hard for me to even think about hurting you.”
Bish Young, Rebbi’s step-mother, was a gentle soul, and a foil for Justin’s anger, but she was also unhappy with this news. She was only eight years older than Rebbi, but looked younger.
“You can’t go and leave us?” she asked, unable to process the news. “To Ancia? That’s not like we can come visit. It takes years to communicate back to Earth, and I’ve heard no one bothers once they get there. You’d do that to us? You’d cut us out of your life, to live like an alien? Is that all you think of us, that you’re willing to forget us?”
“With all due respect,” Rolondo said with a sweeping wave of his hand. He was the only one standing, and he left one hand in his pocket, making Justin annoyed at his casualness. “This is our lives we’re talking about here. In the end, you know, it’s our decision. We’re grown adults, and there’s times when you have to let your children go and live their lives, even if it has to be so far away that we can’t see any of you again. Cut the cord, and all that. Snip snip, you know?”
It was exactly the wrong thing to say.
“I didn’t ask what you thought,” Justin said to Rolondo with a savage display of speed-talking.
“You know Ancia’s a paradise? You do keep up with the news? Why would anyone not want to get there, any way they could?”
“Ro, don’t fight,” Rebbi offered.
Justin turned his sights to his daughter. “Didn’t I raise you to give me at least a bit of respect? And you want to go on some illegal flight? With criminals? Into space? Into space with criminals? Is this what I’m hearing?”
“No, I can’t handle this,” Rolondo said with an aggressive wave at Justin. He left the room and made his way outside, to his car on the street.
Half an hour later, Rebbi
joined him in the car, and she was crying. Rolondo had thought of all kinds of things to say to her, from apologies to encouragements, but he was not prepared for the first words out of her mouth.
“I can’t go.”
“You said what?”
“You heard me and what I said,” she yelled, shocking him. How quickly she could swing from tears to vengeance, and each time she did it would catch him by surprise. That was when she was so much like her father.
“Because of them?” he returned with his voice raised. “Is that what you’re telling me? What about all our plans? Girl, wasn’t it your idea in the first place?”
“Now it’s my idea to forget it.”
“This is from him, not you. I should go back and beat that man into the ground.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you.”
“I’d love it, yes I would. And I’ll tell you what else: I’m going to Ancia even if you’re not.”
“Oh, you’re going by yourself now?”
“Watch me. I didn’t go to all that trouble contacting that Beggs woman, for it to be shot down by Justin. I didn’t do all that research and buy all those machines, for him to sit there and thumb his nose at us. It’s Ancia for me, or it’s nothing. You don’t want to tag along, then don’t. I’ll do it myself.” Now he was shouting.
A small flying insect distracted them both as they watched it land on the dashboard. Rolondo used too much muscle as he pressed his index finger onto it, killing it, and then was annoyed to have it on his finger. He wiped it on his shirt, much to Rebbi’s disgust.
“You’re impossible,” she said, looking away from him.
“And going to Ancia,” he said, also not looking at her.
* * * *
Lars Best was known as The Martian Beast, given that his name rhymed with Mars and he had a lifelong love of anything to do with space. He had never ventured higher than Earth-orbit, due mostly to his work obligations. His younger brother was only interested in using space as a way to make money, and he was constantly travelling between Earth and Mars and numerous other secret destinations. Even amongst his peers, Manuel Best was feared as a ruthless and immoral man, and deserved his nickname of Man-Beast. He ruled their family’s various criminal enterprises with dangerous efficiency, while Lars was seen as the weak link. Lars was a dreamer who would rather watch movies and read books, and think of space in terms of adventure and romance, not profit.
It was generally assumed that Lars was where he was, still on Earth, because of lack of business sense. Those who knew him, knew to fear him, and that when cornered he was every bit as deadly as his brother. Lars was known to have killed five men with his bare hands; two of those his own bodyguards after a failed attempt on his life, and one was a young upstart who went against all warnings and called him The Martian Best. No one called him that to his face. TC was forced to take the body out into space and jettison it; just one of many assignments expected of him, and he longed for the day when he was free from them.
After going through a series of checks, TC was led through a darkened storehouse. Dirty and tattered boxes were stacked against every wall. The smell of rodents and rotting food was a sign that the place had not been used for business for many a year. TC didn’t know the names of the two men who greeted him at the door, although he had seen them before, always quiet in the background. He assumed that they must have received a promotion since he was last there. When they had first opened the door, their faces were pushed into scowls, expecting anything from a police raid to a visit from rivals, but when they saw TC they relaxed and were soon positively beaming with their smiles, as they waved various handheld readers over him.
The scene showed a rocky grey surface, brightly lit by unfiltered sunlight, bright stars in the black sky, and a fuzzy Earth hanging high. It was meant to be the moon. Bright lights shone from high stands, along with a high-tech camera, all honed to a spot market on the floor by masking tape. TC needed no prompting, and freely went to stand on the tape as all heads turned toward the door to a makeshift office. One of the burly bodyguards went and poked his head through the door and then quickly moved away.
The door was thrown open and Lars Best marched out, his arms outstretched and ready to slap TC on his back. He yelled out a simple greeting but made such a big thing of it that he added a few more syllables. With one arm holding TC’s side, Lars smiled for the camera, and assumed that TC did the same. Then others took Lars’ place, some in pairs, and some with different poses. TC said nothing and let them have their fun, thinking that all of these men can tell friends and family that they were with the famous Johnny Beggs on the moon. Without spacesuits.
When TC followed Lars into his private office and the door was closed, all joking ceased. Lars’ eyes were cold and lifeless and TC found it difficult to look at him. Two other guys sat behind TC, and although they said nothing, he could hear their breathing. Lars sat at his cluttered desk and looked at TC with his blank expression. That was how he would start every conversation. Each time TC had been there, Lars would sit and stare and say nothing, and no one in their right mind would speak first.
“How goes your passenger list?” Lars finally said.
“That’s done,” TC said, his voice dry. “Not so hard as I first suggested it would be.”
“We were blessed, then?”
“You know I don’t like any of this. You know that, don’t you?” He sensed the men behind him becoming tense.
“Come now,” Lars grinned. “I hear Ancia is lovely this time of year.”
TC made no effort to even appear amused. “After this, we’re done?”
“TC, you are always welcome here.”
“I mean on a business level.” TC tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. The words were coming out too hard, too confrontational.
Lars’ grin turned into a full smile. “You think I don’t know what you mean? Do you think I am not quite understanding your drift? I know your list is finished. I know all about it. I don’t need you to come here and tell me that. I know more about these bold, intrepid space explorers than you do. I just need you to come visit with me and tell me to my face, look me in the eye, and say you fully intend to take them out there. On their journey of a lifetime.”
“Then I am looking you in the eye, right now, and telling you, I am ready to fly them myself.”
“You do realise, it doesn’t matter to me if you take them or they have someone else take them, so long as they go. Is it better that you take them? Yes, of course it is. Are you the best we have? Yes, and by a long way. But do we actually need you to take them personally? I think not. They agreed to go with you due to your legend. Whether or not you actually do the piloting, or just wave them away from the port, is up to you, TC. In all truth, they just want to get to Ancia, and if you’re not doing the flying, I doubt they’d raise too much of a fuss.”
Lars was still smiling as he talked, and when he was like that he was nearly impossible to read. TC wondered if Lars was giving him an “out” opportunity, but he could not be sure. Given his apparent good mood, that was possible. He thought he should try to ask, thinking that even if he had to give up his ship, he would.
“If you don’t need me to take them …” TC started.
“Since they signed on because of your reputation, your work is done, really. And now they have signed on, they are under my control. That’s all we need to know about this.”
“We can find another pilot? You don’t want me to go?”
The smile vanished. “No, you take them. Don’t want to upset them. You said you would, so why change now? And it’s not like you’re too busy with other things, right?” Then came a loud laugh, out of nowhere, as Lars was amused at his own humour. “After all, I hear Ancia is lovely this time of year.”
The two men behind TC laughed, and to TC it didn’t sound like a courtesy laugh, but more that they were actually amused. He was not sure if he should laugh along at that point, and he preferred to remain emoti
onless.
He had to stay in their company for another four hours, listening to their stories and sharing the odd drink and round of cards. They all loved his company and made it clear of how jealous they were of him, both of what he had done and his upcoming flight. More than a few made him promise that he would take them to space next time. He didn’t tell them that he planned on never seeing any of them again.
* * * *
When K Silversmith arrived home she wanted nothing between her and her easy chair. After a time of sitting and doing nothing, she would begin to think about a hot cup of tea, and a few pages of one of her latest books. She was aware that Real sometimes neglected to fix any food, against what he had promised when she moved in. If that happened, it was no great tragedy, since more than a dozen good food places were within close distance, and they usually went out a few times per week. Real’s food was nothing sensational, but there were times when he made a nice pot-roast, or a stewed arrangement, or good vegetable soup with home-baked bread, if he could find the motivation. This was one of those days when K didn’t really care what he prepared.
Nothing had gone right in her work day, which was filled with niggly people, and the two people who were her best friends were away. It was one of those days she wanted to end as fast as it could, and that made it drag. The sight of a large, nameless crate sitting in their weed-covered carport, where she was meant to park, made her scream out loud. Part of it was the fact that she could have easily driven into it, and another was that Real had told her nothing about it. She would not have admitted that the worst thing about it was that it was just something else preventing her getting to her chair and her cup of tea, and those few pages.
Real was all defensive when she came in the door, like he had long been rehearsing his pitch but became confused when he saw her and it came out wrong.
At first she couldn’t register what he was saying. This was the first she had seen of him in a day and a half, and the worst part about that was that she had not really missed him. Amongst all the worry and annoyance that he had not bothered to tell her where he was, she found that having the apartment to herself was very relaxing. Now she saw him, struggling to explain himself, she wished that he was still gone.