Building Harlequin’s Moon (47 page)

Rachel, Beth, the twins, and Dylan and Kyle sat at a table as far from the Council corner as they could get. Kyle and the twins were on the same team on the parts factory, and Beth and Kyle flirted so incessantly Rachel was betting on a contract announcement any day. The twins, at barely sixteen, were five years younger than Kyle, but already nearly as tall and broad as Kyle. Working in the parts factory had bulked them out, and they ate from plates full to overflowing.

“So,” Jacob said, “do you think the Council over there are just making sure we get enough to eat?”

Dylan grimaced. “Sure. They’re making sure the chocolate gets handed out. But I bet all the wine goes to the Earth Born.”

Beth sat with her fingers intertwined in Kyle’s. “Let’s forget about fighting, just for tonight. Beside”—she looked at Jacob and Justin—“you two aren’t old enough for wine anyway. They won’t bring
that
out until you little ones get to bed.”

“Well,” Jacob teased, “look at the twenty-year-old lady lording over us all.”

“She didn’t mean it that way,” Kyle said.

“I know.” Jacob grinned. “Besides, we’ll have our own party later.”

“Shhhhh,” Rachel said. It had become a tradition for the young Moon Born to hold their own party, after the rest of the groups had been handed wine, after the Selene Born had figured out how to buy or steal or trade for some of their own. “Don’t even think about going out with the older boys. Just stay where you’re supposed to, and have a good
time. We don’t eat
this
well all year.” She popped a chunk of dark chocolate into her mouth.

Justin glanced back at the Council. One of them, a black-haired woman who looked like an official version of Consuelo, only younger, was watching their table. “Don’t worry,” he told Rachel, “Andrew told us to behave. He thinks we’re being watched.”

“Good,” Rachel said, leaning into Dylan, enjoying the feel of his arm around her shoulder.

“That doesn’t mean we won’t find girls,” Jacob said.

“No one suggested
that
,” Rachel said dryly. She sighed. Certainly the lesser of two evils. “But be home before dawn.”

“You’re not our mom,” Jacob said.

Justin nudged him. “We’ll be home. Tomorrow’s still a day off, but we’ll save some energy to help you with dad.”

Rachel smiled. “Thanks, Justin. I appreciate it.”

She and Dylan and Beth and Kyle watched the two younger boys start to make the rounds, moving from one table of young girls to the next, laughing and eating. After the younger people, including the twins, had been cleared out, a Councilman Rachel knew, a man named Dean, with gray hair and ice-blue eyes, stood up and addressed them.

“This has been a busy year. We appreciate the work that has been done, and tonight we celebrate.” The other three Council handed out wine, one silvery tall bulb for each Moon Born. Rachel smiled and took hers, opening the stopper and smelling the rich fruity aroma.

Dylan held his bulb up toward the center of the table, and whispered, just loud enough for the table of four to hear, “To a slow year for Council.”

Kyle smiled and nodded, but Rachel simply drank her wine, which had a lightly sour taste she attributed to Dylan’s toast.

S
ELENE SHIVERED
. R
ACHEL
spread her feet to gain balance. Hot coffee splashed over her hand and spilled onto the floor. She nearly dropped the cup. “Dad?” she called. “You all right?”

A moment of silence. Then her dad’s voice, shaking a little. “Just old. Haven’t felt a quake that big for a couple of years.”

Rachel wiped up the coffee, then looked around the tiny kitchen. At least nothing was broken. She poured another cup and took it to her father.

He smiled at her, and reached up to grasp the cup in his good hand. It was shaking, so Rachel guided his other hand to the cup. “Sorry, girl,” he said. “I shake up easier these days.”

“We all do.” She bent down and kissed his forehead. “Will you be all right? I’ve got to go. Sarah will be along in a few minutes. She can help.”

“I’ll be fine.” Frank took a sip of the coffee and settled back onto the couch that had been his bed for the last two days. “Take care of yourself.”

“All right, Dad. But get better, okay?” For the last few days he had barely been able to get out of bed. He slept half the time, his mouth open, snoring. His skin looked like paper.

As soon as she got out the door, Rachel sent a query to Treesa and Ali. “What would happen if you were making antimatter when this quake happened?”

There was no immediate answer. In the week that had passed since the meeting on Turtle Rock, both Council had stopped answering her questions about the collider.

As she walked down the path toward her classroom, she smiled to see Beth, Jacob, and Kyle pulling a cart with a long glass tube on it. The tube was bound for Refuge; part of a system to pump additional air in and out of Refuge if the drowned asteroid were full of people. Beth waved to Rachel, who started to walk over to the group. Maybe Jacob could go check on their dad.

“Hey, little brother,” Rachel called out. “How are you?”

Jacob grinned. “Strong.”

“Can you go check on Dad later? He looks as bad as he did yesterday.”

“Sure. I’m off-shift in an hour.”

Apollo’s light sparkled on the glass tube as the three young people lined up the cart near the elevator for Council Aerie. Rachel stood, waiting for them to finish.

Jacob unstrapped the tube and lifted one end from the foam cradle the tube rested in for travel. They would hand-carry it to the elevator, where three other tubes just like it waited in a special container designed to take the fragile glass safely up the crater wall and back down the long dock to be loaded onto the
Safe Harbor
.

Two Council approached, both men, lost in conversation. Rachel glanced at them—she’d met each of them briefly on the ship—and tried to remember their names. The tall blond man was Paul, and the smaller, darker one was . . . Terry?

“Ready?” she heard Jacob’s voice behind her and turned away from the Council members. Jacob held his end of the tube up, almost over his head, and Kyle and Beth picked up the other end, preparing to balance the whole thing on their shoulders. Kyle whistled softly at Beth, and she turned to grin at him, losing her balance briefly, pulling the tube off Kyle’s shoulder. They both reached for the falling glass as
the weight jerked the cylinder off Jacob’s shoulder. Jacob twisted, managing to hold on to his end. The far end bounced against the metal edge of the cart, shattering with a loud crash.

The Council members were just two feet away. The one closest to the cart, Terry, turned toward the noise.

Jacob, unbalanced, held the longest remaining part of the tube. He set his foot onto a bright shard of thick jagged glass, and screamed in sudden pain. He pitched forward, and he and the broken glass landed directly on Terry, knocking the Councilman down.

A yelp went up simultaneously from both of them. A sliver of red stained the Councilperson’s white shirt; a cut from the long shard of glass Jacob still held.

The second Council whipped his body around, kicked at the glass, and fired his weapon.

Just for an instant, Rachel saw a pink spark flare under Jacob’s shirt, high on his chest. Jacob jerked violently, then fell into glittering shards of glass. He went limp and still. Blood seeped onto the glass, dulling it.

Beth screamed.

The Council with the weapon, Paul, turned toward her, raising his hand, pointing his weapon at Beth.

Kyle darted in front of Beth. Rachel yelled, “Stop,” and ran to stand over her fallen brother. “No. I saw it. It was an accident. He didn’t mean to do it.”

Paul blinked in the light, his weapon pointing at Kyle and then at Rachel, and then finally, at the ground. He reached a hand out for Terry, helping the smaller man stand up. Blood stained Terry’s hands where he clutched at his wounded chest.

Rachel turned toward Jacob, repeating, “Accident. It was an accident.”

Rachel knelt by Jacob. Glass ground into her knees. The weapon. It must have been on stun. It had to be. Vassal said
they were always on stun. Jacob wasn’t dead, he was stunned.

She put a shaking hand out to Jacob’s chest. It rose, faintly. His head was turned way from her, blood pooling underneath it. She used her index finger to turn his head toward her, and gasped. A shard of glass had cut deeply across the artery in his neck, and blood poured out, a waterfall of blood.

Beth knelt beside Rachel, cupping Jacob’s head. Vassal’s voice rose and fell in Rachel’s ear. “Put pressure on the cut.” She set her shaking hand onto his fragile neck. She pressed down, and blood oozed up between her fingers. “More,” Vassal said. “Much more.” She set her other hand over the first one, pushing down hard. Both hands were covered in blood.

Kyle stood over them, fists balled. Beth sobbed.

Star ran up to the scene, glanced at Rachel and the two Councilmen, and shook her head. “I’ve called a medical team,” she said, peeling Terry’s hands from his chest and poking at the wound.

Blood stopped pouring out over Rachel’s hands, and Jacob stopped breathing. Rachel screamed, “Star! Star, you’ve got to do something. Jacob’s dying!”

Star glanced over at Rachel. “Someone will be right there.”

Rachel felt the hot spurts of blood between her fingers slow. She looked down at Jacob. His eyes stared up at the sky. Rachel looked into them and they were empty, like glass. She was afraid to move her hands from his neck. “He’s not breathing, is he?” she whispered to Beth.

Beth set her right palm on his chest. She waited. She moved her hand, and then shook her head and reached for Rachel.

Rachel leaned into Beth, and Beth put an arm over her shoulder.

Star knelt by Jacob, picking up his wrist and holding it lightly. When she looked at Rachel and Beth, Rachel saw a flash of pain and fear, and something that might be regret. Then Star separated Rachel and Beth, prying Beth loose gently and helping her stand, taking her near Kyle. She left Rachel next to her brother’s body and turned to talk to the two Councilmen.

Rachel sat, empty, trailing her bloody hand along Jacob’s chin. Jacob was her brother. He was family. She folded her arms around her legs, hugging herself and rocking. Kyle stood with his jaw locked, fists clenching and unclenching, legs shaking. Beth cried silently, shaking, tears falling down her face.

Rachel had never seen a Councilperson raise a hand against anyone.

Justin came running up the path, and skidded to a stop in front of Rachel. He mouthed the word “No,” and fell to his knees next to Jacob’s body, touching his twin’s face.

Two Council, the medical team, pushed Justin and Rachel away. Justin started to struggle and Rachel whispered in his ear, “Not now, not now. Wait.” She held Justin’s hand tightly, keeping him next to her, and they watched the medical team close Jacob’s eyes and then lift his body onto a stretcher.

Star stood in front of them, looking worried. “I need a witness.”

Rachel glanced at Kyle, who was standing and holding Beth, sheltering her. It would have to be him. He nodded, and Rachel worked her other hand around to grasp Beth’s hand, pulling her loose from Kyle.

Justin was shaking.

Star looked at him, and said, “You come too.”

“Why?” Rachel asked. She didn’t know what Justin would do. She could feel his anger.

“I want him where I can see him.”

Rachel nodded. “Send him home soon. My father will need him. He’s sick.”

Star smiled wanly, looking exhausted. “I’ll try, Rachel, but no promises.”

Kyle came and stood by Justin. “We’ll go together,” he said.

Justin nodded, and then as if drawn by the stretcher carrying Jacob’s body, he began walking behind the medical team. Kyle kissed Beth quickly, and jogged to catch up with Justin. Star followed, and soon the path was nearly empty.

Why hadn’t everyone come? Didn’t they know? Rachel stepped around the puddled blood and shards of glass, holding Beth’s hand, feeling as if she were walking through a dream.

She had not seen Ursula die. She remembered how unreal Ursula’s death had seemed . . . but she’d seen Jacob’s slack face and the blood.

Rachel held most of Beth’s weight as Beth sobbed into Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel’s head spun. She couldn’t think about the . . . about Jacob dying. Blood loss from the glass had killed Jacob, but a weapon had knocked him unconscious first. A flash of Apollo’s light, a moment of inattention, the slip of a smooth surface on sweat, and Jacob was—gone.

Rachel realized they were approaching her house. She guided Beth to sit on the stoop, not ready to go inside. Telling her dad would make it more real. She didn’t want anyone in the house until she could tell him.

She stroked Beth’s hair, and when she looked down, her hands were still blotched black with blood, and Beth’s hair had become sticky and dark. Rachel stopped, not moving or breathing for a moment, listening to the normal sounds of the base. How could anyone be normal? She had told Star it was an accident. What would Council believe?

She kept watch up the walkway; Gloria and Harry were the first ones to come to them. Gloria gathered her daughter up, and Harry held his hand out to Rachel. She took it. He glanced down at her bloody hand and then pulled her to him. Rachel bent into his shoulder, smelling him, feeling his arms around her, and sobbed.

I
T SEEMED TO
Rachel that she stood there, buried in Harry’s arms, for a long time even though she knew it was only minutes. She heard wings, and footsteps, and voices calling her name. She held Harry tightly for another moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath, then pushed herself away, standing near him, no longer touching.

A crowd was gathering; Andrew, followed by Sam and Rudy, the three of them bunched tight, with angry faces. Bruce, walking slowly, pacing, as if watching for a chance to help. Ali, tearing the wings quickly from her arms, not bothering to remove the foot spreads. Her hair was loose, a long fall of black, as if she had been interrupted. She ran to Rachel. “What happened?”