Building Harlequin’s Moon (57 page)

Treesa smiled reassuringly. “You were already presenting our side to the High Council—saying it pretty well—even if your goals were wrong. You were trying to give the Moon Born more knowledge and a voice. Why increase the risk? We were afraid you’d report anything you thought was dangerous to the High Council. You’re so . . . so bound by tradition. The same thing that bound John at first.”
Treesa looked over at her lover and smiled thinly. “We . . . we never expected anything like what happened today.”

“Why were my goals wrong?” Gabriel asked softly.

Treesa smiled at him again, gently, almost condescending, like a grandmother. He clamped his jaw shut as she said, “Let’s say
different
. You were trying to save the people for Ymir. Well, we were trying to save Selene for the Moon Born. We don’t have room for all the Moon Born, can’t take them all to Ymir any more than I can get my fiancé back from
Leif Eriksson
. There are some things that aren’t possible. But it is possible to make a better deal than we have.”

He remembered something else she’d said. “Who else?”

“Kyu. Bruce, although we didn’t tell him about Vassal. Kyu doesn’t know either.”

Kyu. Kyu and John—that was two High Council. Was. John had stepped down. Liren and Rich weren’t involved; Liren was part of the problem, and Rich stayed cold whenever he could. Gabriel’s head spun. “Clare?”

“She was too much Liren’s friend,” Treesa explained. “Same with Erika. But now maybe things will be different.”

Above the water, above Refuge, the flare raged.

T
IME PLAYED TRICKS
on Rachel, speeding up and then slowing down, a rhythm. Even while she talked with Vassal, and listened to Treesa’s story, death scenes played and replayed in her head. Dylan falling. Her father dying, his breath rattling into silence on the couch. Jacob with a long shard of glass buried in his neck. Blood on her hands.

She watched Gabriel widen his data window, positioning it so that everyone could see. Three other windows popped up around it; contributions from the others, she supposed. One monitored communications satellites, one looked down at Clarke Base, another at Aldrin.

Rachel winced: the skeleton crew at Aldrin might be in the usual flare shelters in the houses, or the old one under the town, from when they were tented. That might not be enough, not if she understood this flare. “Vassal,” she whispered, “where are the people in Aldrin?”

“In the old flare shelter.”

A thought nagged at her. “Would they be safer in the ship—in
Water Bearer?
Aren’t parts of it shielded like
John Glenn?’

“That would work more reliably.
Water Bearer’s
life-support area is very well shielded.”

She relayed the conversation to Gabriel, and then watched the data window as people bolted across the meadow into the broken ship.

She turned her attention to the window on Clarke Base. She could see the warehouse. Tiny broken bodies lay scattered on the roof. A scrap of yellow from one of her broken wings fluttered in the wind. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend none of this was happening. It couldn’t be, not really. Everything had changed. She had changed.

There was nothing personal she wanted to think about—nothing that really mattered. Even Justin was just a small issue; he wasn’t even dead, unlike Dylan, Jacob, and her dad. And Andrew. She flinched. Don’t focus on Andrew.

Rachel thought about what Treesa had said just then, about having a purpose, helping the others. Treesa had helped lead Rachel to a place where she had nearly as little family left as Treesa did. Except now Treesa had John. Rachel breathed into her gut, using techniques Gabriel had taught her. She found loneliness first, rising up with her
breath, followed by a cool anger that straightened her spine. Resentment boiled after anger, and she breathed it out. It took a lot of breaths, and finally she was empty, turning her awareness inside her, pulling for her purpose behind the anger. Treesa had talked to her about purpose that first day in the garden. Treesa had told her, “I know the role you have to play—you have to be a bridge for us all.” It was, really, the only thing left that Rachel cared about. She pictured a bridge running between
John Glenn
and Selene, from Council Aerie to Refuge, a bridge circling the moon instead of the antimatter generator.

She wasn’t clear about how to build such a thing, except that it was a bridge of relationships. Liren had always opposed it, stood in her way, holding all of the High Council with her. What could Rachel do about that now? She had help on her side, she had saved Liren’s life. She frowned, thinking about Liren, about finding her scared and crying after the High Council meeting when John tried to depose her. Seeing Liren’s face, angry but contrite, when Gabriel told her to leave, to follow the two Council and Justin and return to
John Glenn
. Liren had done what Gabriel asked, even though Liren was High Council. Did that signal enough change?

The two AIs also had a place on the bridge, somewhere. What else had Treesa said? Something about Gabriel needing to learn as well, about giving Selene a heart.

She barely followed the conversation around her as the others tracked the flare. “Geomagnetic storm—worst ever.”

“Watch the cameras north and south—there should be a spectacular aurora.”

“Lost a satellite.”

“Radiation readings from the surface are high. Will it be bad enough to affect food stores?”

“We finished the extra shielding for them last month.”

“Might affect the plants.”

She stirred herself. She knew
John Glenn
would be okay. The ship—
Water Bearer
? Was it safe where Vassal was? She asked.

Vassal answered, “The place where I reside is safe. So are the people from Aldrin who came here. We might lose communication for a time. It depends on how much gets through the atmosphere.”

“Okay.”

She perked her ears up, tried to listen more carefully to the assessments of the others, to work out how bad the danger was to Selene. There would be time to think about bridges later. After the flare. She yawned.

Ten minutes later, communications from Aldrin winked out, the data window darkening. Clarke Base followed moments after. It was eerie, being down under the sea with no pictures of the land above, no connection to Selene.

It made Rachel think about the bodies. Dylan and Andrew were beyond caring, but they should have been moved. Why hadn’t she insisted on that? She should have insisted. At least they wouldn’t rot. Radiation would mummify them.

Talk swirled around her; speculation and worry. Gabriel had stopped fussing about Vassal and Astronaut, but she sensed that that topic wasn’t closed.

She had trouble focusing; her thoughts were fuzzy and indistinct.

An hour passed. The group had gone almost as silent as the data windows that surrounded them. Rachel could no longer get answers from Vassal.

Ali worked on Gabriel’s shoulders, whispering, “Rest. You can’t do anything now, and you’ve only just been warmed.”

“I’ll try. But weren’t you awake even before I was, flying to
John Glenn
and then back here?”

Rachel saw Ali nod, but didn’t hear what she said into Gabriel’s ear.

They all looked exhausted. Rachel thought about saying something about it. She was just too tired to open her mouth.

W
HEN
R
ACHEL WOKE
hours later, Ali’s head lay pillowed in her arms on the table, her long braid nearly touching the floor. Gabriel had fallen asleep sitting up. He looked terrible: drawn and empty, wrung out. Rachel’s mouth tasted like he looked. She licked her lips.

Treesa snored lightly on John’s shoulder. The web of wrinkles that fanned out from her eyes and mouth seemed to blend into her thinning gray hair. John wore a glazed look as he stared at the httle bits of data that still flowed in the monitors.

“Hey,” she said. “Good morning.”

John jumped. He had to grab hold of Treesa to keep her in position, and Treesa shuddered but didn’t wake. He looked at Rachel, a wan smile just touching the corners of his mouth, not visible in his eyes. “A hard day and night, yes? Particularly for you.”

She shrugged.

The door pushed open. Beth’s head poked through, looking around. When she saw Rachel, she pushed the door the rest of the way open and ran to Rachel’s side. Sarah piled in after her. As they engulfed her in hugs, Rachel felt a little bit of fragile happiness.

Gabriel was smiling tiredly at the three of them. Rachel returned the smile, and then Beth took Rachel’s
face in her cupped palms. Warm brown eyes searched Rachel’s face, full of concern, and Beth asked, “Are you okay?”

Rachel thought about it for a moment. “I’m all right.”

Beth’s own face looked crumpled and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Rachel asked, “Did Harry get to Refuge?”

Sarah nodded. “He said you told him to be sure I was okay. He doesn’t look very good, though. He keeps talking to himself. Gloria’s staying with him. Do you know where Justin is?”

Rachel grimaced. “They took him to the ship.”

Sarah’s eyes looked incredibly sad for a moment, then she smiled softly. “Harry told us what you did. He said you were very brave.”

“Did he tell you I killed Andrew?”

Beth’s hand stole into Rachel’s, squeezing it. “He said you had to. That Gabriel would have died.” Beth glanced over at Gabriel. “I remember Gabriel carrying me away from the fire.”

Sarah continued. “Harry said you saved us all. That if Andrew had killed more people we might all be dead. He said you saved Justin.” Then Sarah too took one of Rachel’s hands. “We know about Dylan.”

Rachel reached out to Beth and held her close. She noticed tears streaking down her friends’ faces. They had all three lost a brother in the last few days.

John came up and put a hand lightly on Beth’s back. “It’s time for you all to leave.” He said it softly, but firmly, using his captain’s voice.

Beth asked, “Can we take Rachel with us? The others need to see her. Harry, Gloria . . .”

John shook his head. “We need to see her now, more than you do. And she needs to rest.”

The bridge had to be built from Council’s end. Rachel reached for Beth, saying, “He’s right. Tell everyone I’ll be
there soon. Or I’ll see them all when we get back to Clarke Base.”

Gabriel broke in. “Which may be a few days.”

Sarah’s face fell; Beth simply looked resigned.

“Beth—thank you for staying when I needed you to. It sounds like it will still be up to you for a while—take care of them, especially your father.” Beth nodded, and Rachel turned to Sarah. “And, Sarah, you take care of Beth.”

Sarah smiled, as if being given a responsibility made all the difference in the world. Beth looked at Gabriel and Ali. “You must take care of Rachel for us.” She looked solemn. Without waiting for an answer, she pushed Sarah out the door.

Star and Shane came in. Shane looked all right, serious, but then he usually looked like that. His clothes were rumpled. Star had dark circles under her eyes, her hair was uncombed, and she moved slowly. Treesa set coffee in front of them all, and turned to rummage in the cupboards, finding dried fruit and crackers.

“What are the surface readings, Gabe?” Shane asked.

Gabriel called up a new data window. “I’m getting some data. Sporadic. Radiation readings indicate the flare left only residual traces in the air. We can probably go up to the surface and take a look in a few hours.”

Treesa bustled over and put her hand on Star’s shoulder. “How are you doing?”

Star’s hands fluttered up near her face, then came back to rest on the table in front of her. “I keep thinking I didn’t have to kill Sheila. I didn’t mean to, but what if I had just stayed captive? Gabriel and Ali were in the warehouse ten minutes after I left. Couldn’t I have waited ten minutes?”

Treesa smiled down at the younger woman. “You never know the answers to some things. They might have killed you.”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Shane said, coming over and pulling Star into his arms. “I was afraid I’d lose you.”

John looked at Gabriel. “So, you think we can go up and look around?”

Gabriel nodded. “After we eat. We have data flow back from some of the sensors, and the air is testing clean. You want to go with me?”

John and Treesa both said “Yes” as one.

Star shook her head, stepping out of Shane’s embrace, but staying close to him. “I want to stay here and help out.”

Shane looked at her. “There are other people. Enough to keep things running down here.”

“I know. But I still want to stay. I don’t want to go up there yet. I was in charge, we were in charge, when all this happened. We need to stay.”

Rachel fidgeted, unsure what she wanted to do, what they would let her do. She caught Treesa’s eyes, and Treesa smiled. “Being busy is needed,” she said. “It’s healing.”

Rachel remembered the bodies. “Can you help me bury Dylan and Andrew?”

“Sure we can,” John said. “We should have done that before.”

“Then I’ll go up.” She suddenly felt closed in. She needed sky above her and Selene’s dirt under her feet.

G
ABRIEL STOOD ON
the path riding the crater’s rim, looking down at Clarke Base. Much of his view was still regolith desert, blue lines of aqueducts, ordered greens of fields followed by disordered greens of jungle stretching out away from the industrial town below him. Four figures
on the roof of the warehouse were removing bodies for burial.

There would be more death. The green he saw had been blasted by a vast radiation storm.

Ymir had slipped past his immediate vision . . . become a mirage, always beyond his reach. How would they cross such a distance if they couldn’t even make a moon?