“Why?” Shoya queried.

  “Why not?” Gat’r replied.

  “How old are you, Gat’r?” Shoya asked.

  “Eighteen,” Gat’r replied.

  “I thought you were older. I mean, you act more mature,” Shoya explained.

  “I’ve been aboard the Alexander, the first SADE ship to enter our space, for the better part of an annual,” Gat’r explained.

  “You even talk like the crats,” Shoya noted.

  “That’s not a bad thing,” Gat’r argued. “It only points to an opportunity to have been educated.”

  “Probably not,” Shoya admitted. “Thank you for the evening, Gat’r. I can find my way to my humble storeroom.”

  Gat’r watched Shoya hurry away. It occurred to him that he might have blundered. Hoping to show Shoya a possible future, he’d only reminded her of the difference between her present circumstances and one that she might have thought unachievable.

  9: Lisa’s Decision

  Lisa let Gant stew for a few days. When she’d finally come to a decision about him, she chose to confront him in his apartment and deliver her message personally and swiftly.

  Rather than override Gant’s door panel, she courteously requested access, and Gant signaled his door for her.

  “I’m going to make this quick, Gant,” Lisa stated officiously. “You’ve overstepped your bounds for the last time. Pack up. You’re off this planet.”

  “Did you forget my contract runs for another two annuals?” Gant replied acidly, refusing to back down.

  “I know it does,” Lisa snapped back. “I’m paying your contract in full. I want you aboard the Nyslara with me. You’re being dropped on Naiad, and I’m warning every mining planet about you. Better think of what jobs you’re qualified for on Naiad.”

  “The Nyslara? The alien ship? No way,” Gant declared.

  “You can board using your two legs, or you can be carried over Z’s shoulder. Your choice,” Lisa said, waiting to see Gant’s acceptance.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something, Chairperson?” Gant inquired slyly. “There’s the matter of your involvement in the Delhart attack. If you pull my contract and transport me to the home planet, I might have to talk with Naiad security about your part in the preparations.”

  “Your threat doesn’t matter to me, Gant,” Lisa declared. “It’s puny compared to the challenges all of us might soon be facing.” On that note, she spun and exited Gant’s apartment.

  After Shoya, the mickie leader, woke in the morning following her evening with Gat’r, she found her gang staring expectantly at her.

  “Get cleaned up,” Shoya ordered. “We’ve food to eat and work to do.” She disliked that she sounded harsher than usual.

  “Not so fast, Shoya,” the second-in-command said. “What happened last night? You came in late.”

  “Yes,” chorused many of the other mickies, with shouts of, “Tell us. Was the food good? Did you tour the alien ship? What’s Gat’r like?”

  “There’s time for those questions later,” Shoya replied, squashing her gang’s enthusiasm. When she saw stubborn faces, she compromised. “You can ask your questions as we get ready and while we eat. When we leave the meal room, we focus on work. Agreed?”

  The mickies jumped to prepare themselves for the day. They wanted to be present as a group before the first question was asked.

  In contrast, Shoya rose slowly. Her turn at the water basin was cursory. After the use of the cubicle’s facilities last evening, she hadn’t felt so clean in annuals.

  The mickie gang exited the storeroom, and the door was secured behind them.

  “First question,” the second-in-command said. “Why are you looking so glum? Was the evening with Gat’r all that bad?”

  “Gat’r was nice. He was polite and attentive,” Shoya quickly replied, not wanting to see any criticism fall on him. “In fact, let me say that the food was fantastic, and the tour was eye-opening.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” a female mickie asked.

  Shoya abruptly stopped and faced her gang. “Do you think we’re going to get a chance at a life like that?”

  “What are you saying, Shoya?” Trigger asked. “Gat’r was one of us when he was on Geneva. If he made it, why can’t we?”

  Shoya regarded Trigger who appeared defiant. She tried to think of a way to gently let him down. Unfortunately, her thoughts were interrupted by a glance toward others, who wore obstinate expressions.

  “When did you decide to become a defeatist, Shoya?” a male asked bluntly. “You’ve always encouraged us to strive. To be first to the reclamation area. To fight for our fair share.”

  “That’s right,” another mickie echoed. “These visitors arrive and offer us even more opportunity, and you act like you don’t want to get your share. Worse, you talk like we’re not supposed to want our share.”

  The consumption of meals was a glum affair for the mickies. They’d woken with great expectations, and Shoya had dumped cold water on their hopes.

  As for Shoya, she was relieved when the food trays disappeared and it was time to work.

  Unexpectedly, the gang had a short day. They were second to a pile of used equipment, and they made a decent haul. However, they had three minor accidents, involving fingers and toes.

  Shoya directed the mickies to return to the storeroom with their single cart load. “You’re going to get yourself killed at this rate,” she admonished. At the same time, she knew she bore responsibility for their lack of attention.

  Nalia, on her way to the Jatouche medical bay, crossed a trail of blood drops, and she chose to follow them. She had to search several levels to discover where the blood drops resumed after exiting an elevator. When she found them, she had an idea who was injured. The trail led down an unfinished tunnel toward Shoya’s storeroom, and her unique auditory sense picked up the sounds of shouting voices, a metal door opening, and an electric cart’s whine.

  The gang’s storeroom door was open, but Nalia rapped politely on the frame. When Shoya stepped into Nalia’s path, the SADE asked, “Who’s hurt?”

  “Three of the gang,” Shoya replied, stepping aside and waving a hand at the injured. “We’re taking Trigger to medical. He’s got a cid, which means they have to take him.”

  “Ancient medical practices,” Nalia commented tersely. Then she quickly knelt to examine Trigger, whose face was contorted in pain. “Be calm, young one,” she soothed. “I’ll care for you.”

  “Will fixing me hurt?” Trigger inquired, snuffling.

  “You won’t feel any pain,” Nalia promised.

  “That’s ... that’s good,” Trigger managed to say.

  Swiftly, Nalia applied an inducer to Trigger’s temple, and he fell unconscious.

  “What did you do?” Shoya demanded.

  “I put Trigger to sleep. Now he feels no pain and will stay that way until the foot is repaired,” Nalia explained.

  “You’ve no right to take charge of how we care for one another,” Shoya argued.

  “Chairperson Dyehouse gave us permission to manage the domes, Shoya. Take your argument to her,” Nalia replied. “Time is of the essence for Trigger, but I’ll see to the others first.”

  Nalia examined the fingers of a young female. “Not too bad, but you don’t want this to heal poorly,” she said. Then, from her pack, she pulled a tube of medical nanites and smeared the gel over the fingers.

  The injured male leaned over to watch.

  The nanites quickly entered the skin. First the teenager’s scrapes closed. Then a finger with a misaligned joint slowly straightened.

  The girl, who’d been holding back her tears, smiled gratefully at Nalia.

  Immediately, the boy held out his swelling hand with its heavily injured knuckles to Nalia. She gently manipulated the hand to test for broken bones, while the mickie gritted his teeth. Satisfied that there wasn’t extensive damage, she administered her gel.

  “That’s better,” the boy remarked with relief, as the nanites worked and his pain lessened.

  Nalia spun toward Trigger and swept the boy into her arms. Addressing Shoya, she said, “I’ll notify you of his condition.”

  Without waiting for an answer from the mickie leader, Nalia exited the room with a sliding gait and the speed that only a SADE, sister, or suited figure could execute.

  Nalia sent in the open.

  Lily Timmons, the crew chief, sent. She’d just delivered a load of equipment to the sisters, and her ship had lifted for the freighter.

  Nira Racine assembled the disparate pieces in her mind. A SADE’s medical emergency would require a Jatouche station. The three planetside units were recently assembled but unprepared for occupancy, which meant Nalia’s destination must be the Nyslara. However, the transport canopy Nalia needed wasn’t planetside either.

  With a quick check to confirm that Lily’s shuttle was close to passing her Quadrant, she sent,

  Lily sent,

  the Nyslara medical officer, a Méridien, sent before Nira could order it.

  Two SADEs hoisted the heavy canopy and raced from the medical suite to the lower decks. Other crew cleared the way by readying lifts and preparing the bay for Lily’s arrival.

  Lily’s pilot had changed course and was making for the Nyslara.

  In quick order, Lily’s traveler touched down, the bay pressurized, the transport canopy loaded, and the shuttle exited the Quadrant and dropped planetside.

  In a Kilmer dome, Nalia made her way up the levels to the main corridor after commandeering an elevator. She was met by Yma, who waited in a transport.

  As Yma drove the transport at speed toward the shuttleport, her side sensors took in the thin youth and the damaged foot. she sent, displeased by what she saw.

  Nalia said.

  Yma sent. She screeched the transport to a halt below the shuttleport, and Nalia glided toward the open elevator.

  Sisters continued to provide Nalia a smooth uninterrupted path toward her destination.

  Throughout Nalia’s trip to and through the shuttleport, Kilmer citizens and clones watched the SADE swiftly pass them. The visitors were new to their domes, but nothing exemplified the nature of those who professed to have arrived to help them than to see a SADE sweep past carrying an unconscious and hurt child.

  The citizens intended to follow the boy’s condition closely.

  The outpost fleet would learn that this was a test. However, it wouldn’t have mattered to them. The fleet would prove its intentions.

  Nalia had to wait several minutes for SADEs to deliver the canopy to the engineering bay.

  When the clear top half was levered aside, Nalia laid Trigger on the nanites bed, and he was strapped down. The lid was closed, and heat and oxygen were supplied.

  Without a word, the SADEs hustled Trigger onto the surface, across the pad, and into the waiting shuttle.

  The pilot lifted and closed the rear ramp as they rose.

  a Méridien medical officer, Céline, inquired.

  Nalia replied.

  Céline observed.

  Nalia explained.

  Céline inquired.

  Nalia replied.

  In the Nyslara’s medical suite, the transport canopy was opened. Trigger’s clothes and boots were cut away. The boot covering the injury was full of blood, and the foot flopped down when freed.

  Then Céline scanned the entire body. Afterward, the SADEs gently lifted Trigger and eased him into the Jatouche tank.

  In the Kilmer domes, Shoya searched for Gat’r. She accosted the first sister she saw and demanded to see Gat’r.

  the sister sent.

  Gat’r knew who wanted him. The sister had included an image of Shoya, and the mickie leader’s expression told him this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation.

  Navigating to the location via the sister’s comm ID, Gat’r arrived below and the sister excused herself.

  “Where’s Trigger? He’s my responsibility, and Nalia took him without my consent,” Shoya declared hotly.

  Gat’r was taken aback by the accusation, and he connected to Nalia. When he learned of Trigger’s accident and that the boy floated in a Jatouche tank, he was tempted to lambast Shoya for failing to call a SADE or a sister for help. Then he recalled his own reluctance when he first met the SADEs.

  “Shoya, you’ll need to change again. Are you ready?” Gat’r asked.

  “Trigger’s on one of your ships?” Shoya queried angrily.

  “Yes, the Nyslara,” Gat’r replied.

  Shoya’s release of breath indicated her frustration. “Let me tell the others,” she said.

  Gat’r waited in the corridor, while Shoya raced away and returned several minutes later.

  It was nearly an hour later that the pair reached the Quadrant, and Gat’r escorted Shoya to the medical suite.

  “Greetings, Shoya. I’m the Nyslara’s medical officer —”

  “Where’s Trigger?” Shoya demanded, interrupting Céline.

  “In this room,” Céline replied calmly. She’d been warned by Gat’r about the intemperate mickie leader.

  Nalia turned as Trigger’s door opened. She intended to nod and vacate the room, but Gat’r raised a hand, indicating she should stay.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Nalia,” Shoya declared hotly.

  “Enough, Shoya,” Gat’r said sternly. “Show some respect for the SADE who saved Trigger by her swift action, or I’ll happily see you flown planetside.”

  “Shoya, perhaps you should see images of Trigger’s condition before you comment further,” Céline offered. Immediately, she signaled a monitor to display the scan of the mickie’s foot.

  “What is that?” Shoya asked.

  “This will help,” Céline replied. Then she replaced the monitor’s image. “Here you see a scan of Trigger’s unharmed foot. Notice how the bones are aligned and make a series of connections from heel to toes.” Switching the monitor image again, she added, “This is the scan of Trigger’s injured foot.”

  Shoya stepped toward the monitor. Her mouth hung open. “It can’t be,” she said. “It looks like ... like mush.” She whirled to face the room’s other occupants. “But he didn’t cry out. He didn’t act terribly hurt.”

  “Mickies always fight for a good day’s haul,” Gat’r said sympathetically. “I remember those days. We shouldered our injuries, knowing there was little recourse.”

  “I should have done something. He’s ... he’s my responsibility,” Shoya said miserably. She sunk into a nearby chair, placing her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

  When Shoya recovered some control, she asked, “Will Trigger ever walk normally again?”

  “He’ll walk better than ever,” Céline assured Shoya.

  “How?” Shoya asked, with narrowed eyes.

  Gat’r couldn’t help but laugh, which, under the circumstances, was highly inappropriate. When Shoya jumped up, pointed a finger angrily at him, and drew breath to castigate him, he held up his hands and apologized.

  “Shoya, one moment you want to evict Nalia from the room. The next minute you’re miserable about Trigger’s injuries. Then you hear he’ll be better than ever and you’re suspicious,” Gat’r explained. “What are you really afraid of knowing?”

  Shoya stared at Gat’r, her finger still poised in the air. Slowly, she lowered it, frowned, and dropped her arms to her sides.

  Nalia signaled Céline, and they eased out of the room.

  “Talk to me, Shoya. I’ve been where you are now,” Gat’r gently encouraged.

  Shoya sat again in the chair. She stared ahead, as if searching for an answer to Gat’r’s question on some distant horizon.

  A thought occurred to Gat’r, and he checked for Jasper’s location. Gat’r suppressed the urge to chuckle. Jasper was waiting in the corridor outside the medical suite.

  Jasper replied to Gat’r’s ping on his implant.

  Gat’r replied.

  Shoya’s head swung around, as an unfamiliar human entered the medical room.

  “I thought you might like to talk to Jasper,” Gat’r said, by way of introduction. “He’s my old gang leader.”

  “Tough times,” Jasper said.

  “What do you mean?” Shoya asked, standing to talk face to face.

  “All the changes coming at you so fast,” Jasper explained. “One minute, you’re in charge and responsible for every gang member. Then, suddenly, things change, and the gang no longer needs you.”

  Shoya heard the lament in Jasper’s voice. “How did you handle it?” she asked.

  “Poorly,” Jasper replied, laughing at the memories. “But I have to tell you that I was foolish to be afraid. Did you see the suited figures in the domes?”

  “Yes. Trigger showed them to me,” Shoya replied.

  “I wear one of them,” Jasper said proudly. “That’s thanks to Gat’r, and he owes his present condition to the SADEs.”

 

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