Crossways (21 page)

Cara and Ben had studied all the possible planets. Any one of the four would make a good settlement site, but Jamundi's seeding would give them a head start. As soon as Victor chose they could swing into action and start moving the settlers to their permanent new home.

“What guarantees do we have?” Lorient asked.

“About what?” Garrick asked.

“That Alphacorp and the Trust will leave us alone this time.”

“They won't know where you are,” Ben said. “Mr. Garrick has specialists who'll wipe all records of your location from the star maps. If you pick one of the uninhabited planets your new home will show on all systems as a barren rock. If you go for the inhabited one, you'll simply be hidden by the people who are already there.”

“Someone might find us.”

“They might, but space is big. The chances of an accidental flyby are less than a speck of dust getting close enough to notice a single pea in a grapple arena.”

Laughter trilled outside as the door to the Mansion House's reception room opened and Mother Ramona, resplendent in turquoise silk, led in her guests. Their conversation died away and Jack and Saedi uncoupled their entwined fingers as Victor turned toward them.

Jack and Saedi. Saedi and Jack. Theirs had been a good working relationship that had grown into something more without anyone suspecting, but a young psi-tech had died on Olyanda for the simple crime of loving a settler girl, and now Jack, Victor's chief administrator, and Saedi, the Psi-1 Telepath assigned to settler communications, had ceased to hide their affection. Victor might not like it, but here on Crossways he couldn't do anything about it. Jack, who had seemed to lack a backbone for much of their time on Olyanda, had now begun to grow one. It helped that Rena Lorient had championed their relationship, though Cara wondered whether that was because she approved or because she knew that her husband didn't. She suspected the latter.

“Have you decided?” Rena barely glanced at her husband as she walked over to the balcony window and gazed out with her back to him.

“One of them has a settlement already and the other two—well—I'm not sure they're safe. We should look further.”

Cara bit back a comment. Ben huffed out a
here-we-go-again
kind of breath while Garrick and Mother Ramona exchanged a sidelong glance.

Victor looked up from one to the other. “You're mind-talking about me again, aren't you?”

“Actually,” Cara said, “we're not. Mr. Garrick doesn't have an implant and it would be rude of us to exclude him, but you hardly need telepathy to guess what we're all thinking. Crossways station has extended enormous goodwill, but it's time to go now.”

Rena turned and acknowledged Cara over her husband's head.

“Yes. It's time to go.” She walked over and selected one file from the four on the table in front of Victor. “Jamundi. We'll take Jamundi. If Victor can't make up his mind, Mr. Garrick, I'll do it for him.”

She looked across to Jack and Jack nodded back.

“But—” Victor leaned forward in his chair.

“These good people need us out of their hair. We've taken advantage of them for long enough. And our own people are ready to go. They're miserable and confused. They've been yanked out of the life they expected and dumped in a refugee camp with only what they could carry. They don't even really know why, but they'll listen to you and do what you ask. They've always listened to you. Now it's your turn to listen to them. Give them a new home. It's what they want.”

“I . . .” Victor Lorient was, for once, at a loss for words. He sank back in the chair and massaged his forehead with his fingertips.

Jack stepped forward. “Commander Benjamin will provide a set-up team for us again.”

“Not such a large team as last time,” Ben said, “But they can stay for as long as you need them.”

“Thank you,” Rena said. “And this time we'll welcome them as part of our community for as long as they want, or
need, to stay. We may have lost our planet, but the psi-techs turned their backs on their old lives, too. They protected us at the expense of their homes and jobs and families. If any of them need a home with us they can have it and they can bring their families, too.”

Jack reached out and took Saedi's hand again. “And you should know, Director, that Saedi and I are together. That means she'll be staying on Jamundi permanently. If you have a problem with that, please say so now and I'll start looking for another job.”

“But the whole point of leaving Earth was to found a new world on true Ecolibrian principles, leaving behind—” He paused and Cara thought for a second that he was going to say
abominations
, but he reined himself in. “Engineered and implanted humans.”

“We'll get there, Director,” Jack said. “It will take a generation longer than we expected, but since we'll have no facilities for testing youngsters for latent psi abilities or performing implant surgery, any psi-techs staying with us will be the last generation of their kind on our planet. Their children will grow up implant-free.
Our
children will grow up implant-free.” He squeezed Saedi's hand and she blushed, but wisely said nothing.

Victor nodded. “I don't want to lose you, Jack. You're too good an administrator.” He glanced at Saedi, but barely made eye contact. “Welcome to the fold, Miss Sugrue.”

Cara realized she'd been holding her breath. Mother Ramona clapped her hands delightedly. “That's all settled, then. Good! Who wants another drink? I think it's time for a toast to Jamundi.”

“I thought we'd go to the farm today,” Wes said as Kitty met him on the concourse outside Port 22.

“The farm?”

“I told you, I volunteer. I can't let a simple thing like glorious sex get in the way of teaching kids how to milk a cow.”

“That's where you get all your practice!” She giggled and evaded his reaching arms, just beating him to a tub-cab as it pulled in. “Farm first, sex afterward.”

“Now there's an offer I can't refuse.” He laughed.

The journey took longer than Kitty expected because they had to change cabs at the major hub points. Crossways' transport system was a chaotic web of interconnecting tubes. They traveled hubward, but rather than going all the way to the spindle they changed at the main ring and transferred to a pod that took them halfway around the circumference of the station, past manufacturing units, warehouses, dockyards, upmarket shopping malls, less salubrious street markets, and residential pockets blossoming like villages with cafes and stores. Once they passed through a brightly lit strip.

“Casinos?” she asked Wes.

“Yeah, they belong to Lord Roxburgh.”

“Lord Roxburgh?”

“Self-styled. Fancies himself. He's rolling in credits, though. Casinos, brothels, entertainment establishments.”

“You mean strip joints.”

“That's the least of it. Strippers of all ages and genders are just the floor show between the serious business of fights. Legal fights and probably illegal ones as well. Roxburgh is the only serious rival Garrick has. He's on the council. Some say the only reason Garrick is in power is because Roxburgh doesn't want to put the effort into governance.”

“Sounds like a charmer.”

“Steer well clear.”

The tub-cab trundled on until they came to the next hub. From there, a moving walkway took them rimward once more.

“This is a really cranky section of the station,” Wes said. “It's half of what used to be an O'Neill cylinder, part of an old station decommissioned when artificial gravity first became viable and O'Neill cylinders were rendered obsolete. It was brought here, repurposed and incorporated, and now has half a dozen levels of farmland, market gardens, and hydroponics, powered by indirect solar and also lit by mirror arrays.”

“Did it come in sections?”

“They say it was fitted with one of the first jump drives and brought through the Folds by some maniac who didn't know it couldn't be done. It's a good story.” He grinned. “I don't know if it's true. I like to think it might be.”

Kitty frowned.

“What's up?”

“Jump drives aren't as easy as they tell you in flight school. I can take any ship you like, even an ark, through a jump gate, but I can't get the hang of
Solar Wind
. It's like I have a puzzle, but I can't make it fit together because there's a missing piece.”

“In the
Solar Wind
?”

“No, in my head, or in my implant. Ben does it effortlessly. Even Gen Marling can do it and she's only a Psi-3 Navigator. Whatever she does, I should be able to do, but I can't.”

“I thought jumpships were as rare as hen's teeth anyway.”

“Yes, they are, but I know Ben was hoping I'd be able to fly
Solar Wind
. I think it's the only reason he kept me around after Olyanda. That and the fact that he's kind. Do you know how rare that is?” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “You're kind, Wes Orton.”

“No, I'm not. I'm a mean man who wants to keep you all for myself.” He tugged on her hand, and as she turned toward him he kissed her.

She pressed against him and let herself get lost in the warmth of his lips until she felt dizzy. She put out her hand and her knuckles brushed the stationary side of the walkway.

“Steady.” He laughed and caught her as she staggered.

“I like it when you're there to catch me.”

“I'll always be there for you if you want me to be.”

Did he mean that? How was she supposed to answer? Part of her wanted to say she did, but she wasn't free to do that. Instead of an answer, she kissed him again.

The walkway spit them out into a lobby with three layers of insect mesh curtains that they treated like an air lock, making sure each layer was secure behind them before moving on to the next.

“They have bugs in here,” Wes said. “Valuable ones, and they don't want to lose them. They're all part of the ecosystem.”

Once through the mesh they came out into a vast curving crescent of greenery, brightly lit.

“What is it?” Kitty asked.

“Hi-yield wheat.”

“It goes on forever.”

“Looks like it, doesn't it? We need to go up a level to the farm.” Wes indicated an open elevator big enough to lift a hefty piece of machinery.

On the next level the scenery was different. The farmyard was, as Wes had described it, a collection of animal sheds, a cattle byre, a horse barn, pig pens, and paddocks with goats and sheep. Chickens fluttered underfoot. A couple of dogs bounded up to them, but by the lack of barks and the way they greeted him they obviously knew Wes. He bent and scratched one behind the ears and the other on its back just above its tail.

“This is Moss. She's a bit head-shy, but scratch her just there and you'll be her friend for life. Domino, on the other hand, likes his ears rubbed gently.”

“Hey, Wes!” A young woman with practical cloth trousers and shirt, her hair shoved under a battered cap and stout boots on her feet, came out of the horse barn. Under the cap her face was pretty, if you didn't count the smudge down one cheek.

“Hey, Lana, this is Kitty.”

Introductions followed. Lana Grissom managed the farm and also administered the leases on the market gardens that began beyond the farm's own orchards and stretched around the crescent on this level. She had three full-time staff members and a large team of volunteers, all of whom she knew by name and capabilities.

“I wanted to give Kitty a taste of the great outdoors, Crossways style. Can we take a couple of the horses out?”

“Sure. Do you ride, Kitty?”

“I . . . not for a long time.”

Lana turned to Wes. “Take Robin for Kitty, and Cordelia could do with some exercise if you don't mind.”

“Thanks.”

“We've got a bunch of kids from Yellow in later.”

“We'll be back in time to help.”

In the horse barn Kitty watched Wes tack up a quiet roan pony and a restless bay mare with a glossy coat. His movements were economical and the mare steadied under his gentle hands.
I know what that feels like
, she thought.

“Do you need a hand?” Wes led out Robin and handed the reins to Kitty.

“I can manage.”

She scrambled aboard with more determination than grace as Wes brought out Cordelia and swung into the saddle. Their ride was surreal: through an orchard, along a track between market garden plots, and back by an open water course that drained the land and recycled the water into gentle rain that fell each night. How could such a thing be taking place on an artificial world hanging in space? But it was. No wonder Wes loved the farm so much. Logic said there was no room for such a thing on a space station, but Crossways was more than a station, it was a world in miniature.

They arrived back in the barnyard in time to deal with a party of awestruck kids from Yellow sector. Kitty helped by keeping an eye on them and making sure no one was left behind, but, peering over their heads, learned as much as they did. Wes answered every question, no matter how trivial. He'd make a good father, Kitty thought, and then found herself shocked that she'd arrived at that conclusion and was profoundly grateful that Wes didn't have an implant. She'd have been mortally embarrassed if he'd caught that thought.