Tomorrow’s Heritage (8 page)

Coming into port. Our ship survived a pirate attack . . .

The brightly lit docking bay was straight ahead. A bright green cross flashed on the nav screens. Todd’s escort had dropped back. Were they waiting their turns to dock, or getting ready to take off on another rescue mission? They had delivered their charges and were now free to get back to work. What was their work? How much defense and rescue did they have to do? And whom were they defending Goddard from?

The shuttle coasted slowly inside the docking bay. Relative forward motion ceased. The ship’s OMS thrusters shut down, and the station’s low-field magnetic grapnels reached for them. The craft shivered at the contact. By centimeters, they were pulled into berth. Connecting tunnels and umbilicals locked in place. All the external sounds Todd had left at Geosynch HQ were back. The shuttle was on Goddard Colony’s life-support systems.

While pressure came up, Todd put a final entry in the trip log and cut off the internal systems. Owens peered at him through slitted eyelids and groaned. He didn’t seem interested when Todd told him they were docked. Interior screens scanned the shuttle’s air lock as it opened. A med team floated through the connecting tunnel and into the ship. Other station personnel followed. Cargo supervisors? They didn’t look the type, even though a couple of them started running inventory as soon as they arrived inside the craft. Two of them took up positions by the air lock. Guards? That had never happened on any of Todd’s previous trips to Goddard.

The cockpit hatch opened, and medics rushed in. Despite the pressurization, they remained fully suited. Todd was reassured by that. Whatever was going on at the Colony, they weren’t letting safety standards slide. A couple of medics began checking out Owens while another scanned Todd. He okayed him re residual radiation or obvious injuries, then started unshipping his heavier equipment.

“That’s not necessary. I’m not hurt,” Todd said quickly. No argument. Not even a suggestion he go to Sickbay for a thorough look-see. Instead, the medic nodded and shoved the heavy examining gear across the cockpit to his co-workers.

“Is Gib . . .”

“Too early to tell, sir.” The tone told Todd to mind his own business.

The space was becoming crowded. The medics wouldn’t let Todd help, and he was in their way. They angled a stretcher awkwardly over his head and the consoles and positioned it to carry the pilot. Todd didn’t need any stronger hint. He pushed off and left.

At the air lock, other Goddard personnel were still checking inventory, or pretending to. Normally Todd took no interest in unloading, beyond signing the forms when Goddard’s accounting department asked him to. This time he eyed the people thoughtfully and asked several questions. He got no more satisfaction than he had from the medics. Disgusted, he reached for his personal luggage on the rack by the air lock. A guard came between him and the bag. “That’ll be taken care of, sir. You’ll be staying in your sister’s housing unit? Then we’ll deliver it there.”

Todd tried to edge around the human barricade. Another guard joined the first. They politely but firmly fended off Todd’s efforts. “What is this? Are you confiscating my luggage?”

“No, sir. Regulations, sir. Your luggage is quite safe. If you need anything from it immediately, you can requisition it from Security . . .”

“I will! I’ll just talk to Kevin McKelvey. He’s in charge of Security, in case you’ve forgotten, and he just happens to be living with my sister.” Todd hadn’t used a name for clout in a long time. Previously, the magic name “Saunder” had been enough to get results. Here it seemed as if McKelvey’s should do it. The only result was a peculiar, patronizing attitude, as if the guards knew something Todd didn’t, something funny. “You’re going to keep the luggage? You want to see my ID, too?”

“No, sir. We know who you are.”

“Really? I was beginning to wonder.” Todd dived out the air lock, leaving his luggage behind. Two more guards were waiting beyond the exit tunnel. They swam up alongside him, hemming Todd in, although they didn’t touch or restrain him in any way. “And what are you?” Todd asked acidly. “My honor guard?”

“Just making sure you get to Port of Entry okay, sir,” one of the unrequested escorts explained. “There’s been a lot of new construction since you were here last, Mr. Saunder. Some of it’s kind of dangerous. You’re not properly suited up for those areas.”

Visions of the damaged torus sections flashed in Todd’s mind. Was that the construction they referred to? But here they were at the Hub, not out on the wheel, where the wrecked sections were. An escort didn’t make any sense here. An
armed
escort. Both men wore military side arms. One of them was a civilian. The other was part of Kevin McKelvey’s liaison detachment posted at Goddard from Lunar Base Copernicus. They worked expertly together. Playing escort efficiently and being ready to disable an invader. It was plain this sort of duty wasn’t new to either of them.

Did they think
he
was an invader?

Sobered, Todd made his way through the Hub from docking. The areas around Traffic Control seemed abnormally crowded. Perhaps the extra personnel were needed to handle the Defense Units’ comings and goings. Obviously they had been tracking that missile by the time Gib called them. Rescue must have already been on its way when the shuttle sent a Mayday. But in spite of the claims of Todd’s escort, he saw no new construction. He
did
see large numbers of sealed hatches marked “No Admittance Without Planning Group Authorization.” Another change since his last trip. Something very much out of the way was taking place here.

Defensive measures? The next step would be offensive. Was that what was going on in the sealed-off rooms? Installing cannons and counterstrike equipment? He recoiled from the idea and its implications.

There were more armed guards, more mingling of the military and civilians. Some of the civilians acted green, but the same combat-ready manner marked them all. The regular staff wouldn’t speak to Todd. He knew many of them, and they knew him. He had been a loyal supporter of Goddard Colony since its inception and was no stranger here. Not only did his attempted greetings bring no response, but occasionally he received a glare of naked hatred, shocking him.

At Suit Storage, the guards removed their helmets but kept on their pressure suits while the guest stripped to his jumper. Like Defense Unit Three, they waited to get him off their hands so they could return to regular chores. Todd was about to ask them what those regular chores were when the outer door opened and a group of Colonists drifted in, heading for the suit lockers. Mariette came in right behind them, scooting her anchoring tether hurriedly along the rail until she reached Todd. She flung her arms about him and together they bobbed about, held only by her safety line.

Todd grunted in the enthusiasm of her embrace, grinning. She pressed her close-cropped dark hair against his cheek and he felt her tremble. When they came up for air, he tweaked her chin. “Are you crying, Mari?”

She
was
sniffling. But she was also beaming, that smile, like Pat’s, which made sunlight dim. “Not any more. Not now that you’re here! Oh, it’s so good to see you!” She hugged him again as Todd yelped in sham protest and clung to the rail for balance.

Kevin McKelvey remained by the outer door, talking to a couple of soldiers and several civilians. He wore his commander’s uniform, but the Lunar Base patches had been removed. McKelvey’s strong face showed fresh worry lines. “Check the circuits and let me know. Don’t let them get that close again,” he said. The soldiers and civilians rushed away. No chatter. No joking. Very serious and intent. Todd was used to the special zeal of Goddard citizens, but usually that dedication was leavened with laughter. Now there was none. Those who had been suiting up were gone, too. The three of them were alone in the locker room.

Keeping one arm about his waist, Mariette steered Todd toward the outer hall. He didn’t bother hooking up his own tether. She was his anchor. Kevin followed them through the door and shut it. His oversized paw engulfed Todd’s hand, and Kevin underlined Mariette’s welcome with a hearty, “Damned glad you made it, Todd.”

“It’s nice to know I’m appreciated. It would have been a lot nicer if I’d had some warning about the fireworks you were going to stage for me.”

“That’s not fair,” Mariette protested.

“No outraged innocence, Mari. I’m not in the mood.”

“Neither are we,” Kevin’s basso growl broke in. His ruddy complexion darkened threateningly. “This isn’t a game. And we’re not putting on a show.”

“But you
are
keeping secrets, from me and from Earth,” Todd said. “And I’m tired of it. I think I’m overdue for explanations. Gib promised me some, then dodged by getting himself concussed, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.”

Kevin’s annoyed look told Todd he had scored a hit with that guess. But the officer offered no apologies.

“Is Gib hurt badly?” Mariette asked, concerned.

“I don’t think it’s serious,” Todd said. “The medics weren’t very worried. How about it, Kevin? Are they taking him to Sickbay, or to Debriefing?”

“Maybe a little of both, depending on the doctors’ verdict.”

Todd’s patience snapped. “All right. We’ve said hello. The amenities have been satisfied. Your medics wanted me out of their hair before Gib said anything incriminating. And your escort took me through this armed camp to make sure I didn’t butt in on any superspy stuff. What’s this all about? I’m not an enemy. I came riding up here, peacefully planning a visit to my sister, and some missile almost makes it a case of like father, like son . . .”

Mariette’s face turned deathly white. “Don’t!”

“Well, dammit, that’s what happened. Are you going to tell me why I’m being shot at and treated like an invader? Or do I draw my own conclusions?”

“We’ll tell you as much as we can,” Mariette promised. Kevin started to argue, and she rounded on him as quickly as action and reaction allowed. He steadied her, holding her by the shoulders, meeting her eyes. Todd was embarrassed to be present, an intruder on an intimate scene. They did nothing but look at each other, yet everything was obvious. The relationship had always been intense. Now it was a conflagration.

Kevin broke the stillness at last. “Let’s grab some gravity. Then we can talk.” He led the way to the nearby elevator.

As they crowded into the aluminum cage, Todd said, “I assume your apartment wasn’t damaged when Section Two got mangled.” Their reactions were so fierce he was taken aback. Lamely, he mumbled an apology. “Uh, were there many casualties?”

“Yes.” Kevin didn’t elaborate, and Todd wished he could disappear for a while.

They traveled out along the immense spoke. Elevator view panels showed them their progress toward the torus. Other spokes, containing similar elevators, were radiating arms reaching from the Hub to the wheel. At each level, the angle of view of those spokes widened, and above them the incredible bulk of the torus loomed larger and larger.

Any trip to Goddard or a return to Earth from Todd’s satellite chain exacted a price. Todd’s cardiovascular system, bones, and muscles complained. He hadn’t noticed the sinus congestion so much at ComLink. Now, rising toward one gravity, he did: He could make the adjustment rapidly compared with some, but there were always a few upsetting minutes when he first arrived. On schedule, his viscera roiled. He endured the inner confusion while the cage moved twenty meters farther up the spoke. He marveled that Goddard’s citizens could make this trip so frequently, going to their jobs elsewhere on the torus, out to the lunar mining collection net, or to the various adjacent stations.

A few years earlier, Mari had hired Todd’s media people to produce a recruitment documentary about Goddard. They had made a few converts. But most of the Earth audience rejected the euphoric picture of habitat living. No matter how bad problems were on Earth, space dwelling seemed far worse, an alien, “unnatural” world. To the Goddard citizen, life in the habitat was “clean,” and many looked back on their former existence on Earth with revulsion.

Had the species which built the alien vehicle faced this same division in its ranks? Had one faction adopted space and another turned its back on it? And had a third sought to hold those two opposing factions together?

Was it even possible to hold them together? Or was Todd Saunder fighting a hopeless battle? He wished he could hear the opinion of his counterpart out of the aliens’ past, if there had been such. If they had survived this war of living choices, there might be a chance for humanity to do so, too.

The view panels displayed scenes from Goddard’s outer watchdog cameras. They showed the blasted sections of the wheel. The devastation was, in its way, as severe as that dealt Earth by man-made catastrophes and the Tangshan and New Madrid quakes. Yet there had been no exodus from Goddard. The surviving sections of the torus were lit and bustling with activity under the protection of the lunar soil radiation shields covering the wheel. Reconstruction was already underway. They weren’t leaving.

Planetsiders had moved back into Earth’s ravaged lands and rebuilt, too.

Homo sapiens
, the defiant species.

Would the species which sent the alien messenger understand these nuances in human behavior? There were so many questions he wanted to ask—of the messenger, and of Mari and Kevin.

Todd’s ComLink personnel were space-oriented and sympathetic to Goddard. But they spaced for mere four or six-week stints, then were rotated planetside. More and more Goddard Colonists signed on for indefinite periods, and some were turning down leaves to Earth altogether. There were children being born in the habitat. What would those children be like in ten or twenty years? Todd doubted they would adapt to an Earthside existence any better than most present Earthmen could adapt to space. The environments were too different. Goddard citizens were leaving planetary origins behind. Their world was artificial and fully satisfying. Eventually, they would never want to go “home” to Earth.

The elevator cage sighed to a stop, finally. They stepped out onto a platform surrounded by a mini-park. Lush grass, young shade trees, and flowers scented the air and pleased the eye. Mari looked over at Todd. “Did you remember to take your med grays? You look queasy.”

“My God! You’re as bad as Dian . . .”

“Good for her, then.”

“What is this, a conspiracy? Yes, I took the damned medications, a whole pharmacy full.” He was a trifle weak, just the same. As they started through the park, to Todd’s chagrin, he stumbled and nearly fell. Kevin gripped his elbow, helping him toward the pedestrian walkway. “I’m not that feeble,” Todd said. The big man paid him no attention, so Todd decided to go gracefully.

More guards, marching on patrol even here, in a residential section. They appeared to be drilling, the military people instructing the civilians in how to follow orders and handle their side arms. The ranking guard in the nearest group saluted Kevin smartly. “Good afternoon, Governor.”

“Good afternoon, Ma Jiang. It’s okay. I’ll vouch for him.” Again Todd sensed hostility toward him where there had never been any before. Why must McKelvey vouch for him? And what would happen if he didn’t?

Belatedly, another surprising thing hit Todd. “Governor?” he asked, bewildered. That Sino expatriate guard hadn’t sounded as if he were reverting to quaint British slang. He had addressed McKelvey with much respect, setting “Governor” with an initial capital letter.

“We’ll talk about that, too,” Kevin promised. He and Mariette paused in the shopping area near the park, as if giving Todd time to get used to a lot of new things—of which there were plenty. The convenience shops weren’t new, but their goods and displays were. Ordinarily, the stores featured foods and fashions imported from Earth, entertainment tapes and so forth. Luxury and leisure items for the people in this torus section. Now the luxury items were crowded into the corners. Locally produced propaganda tapes, and even a few microfiche printouts and a couple of real books, filled the display shelves. Hard-sell tape presentations blared from the stores’ monitor screens. Images of Goddard’s planetside political allies and Colony orators ranted, blaming Patrick Saunder and Earth First Party for Goddard’s slow economic strangulation this past year. There was not a moderate voice among them, no one pleading for understanding and patience.

Slowly, Mari and Kevin edged out onto the walkway, Todd following along like a puppet. They might be setting this snail’s pace out of consideration for his recent arrival from null gravity. Or was there another reason? McKelvey was stony-faced. Mariette was a drama tape, as she usually was. Todd had no problem reading volumes in her expression. She was wearing her teeth-of-the-hurricane face. She had always gone to that mode whenever Jael or one of her brothers was about to stomp her for some whim or mischief. What was Mari expecting him to blow up about this time?

Todd studied his surroundings carefully. Section One was the oldest residential area of Goddard. After five years’ growth, the saplings brought from Earth were almost full-sized, adorning the lawns, the park, and overhanging the pathway here and there. Decorative shrubs and flower beds bordered the little grassy plots separating each apartment unit. There was some new construction here, and that was most unusual. There was nothing in the Planning Group’s growth projection about this, not for another five years. Yet mini beam-builders and workmen swarmed over the roofs of each in-story dwelling. The changes threatened more than orderly aesthetics. A fourth story added to every unit would severely strain the ecosystem’s precisely planned balance. There would have to be a lot of adjustment.

But they had to have new housing, to accommodate those dispossessed when Section Two was destroyed. Even these extra stories wouldn’t be enough. A fourth floor atop every residential dwelling throughout the torus still couldn’t handle the overflow. Where were the rest going to live?

Maybe they had no need for housing, ever again.

The shocks continued coming. The horizon was wrong. A gently upcurving perspective was a normal part of the torus environment. The lofty ceiling imitated the sky. Reflected solar light made the landscape almost Earth “normal.” The warm, humid air was sub-tropical and very soft.

Abruptly, a quarter of a kilometer away, the curving horizon stopped. So did the sunlight, the open ceiling effect, and there was no air beyond that point. Things hadn’t looked like this since Section Two had been completed and joined to One. A transparent buffer, rimmed by heavily reinforced metal, blocked all access between the sections once more. A vacuum barrier. They had never expected to use them, once the torus sections were joined and the wheel finished. Odds were a million to one that a really large piece of space junk would impact and damage the station.

A million to one odds.

Todd was seeing, from the inside out, the destruction he had observed while he was approaching Goddard Colony. As bad as it had looked from a distance, the damage was much worse from this angle. He was frighteningly aware that he wore no spacesuit, had no protection, should that buffer give way. That was instant death up there, just on the other side of that wall. Somehow, the trees and flowers and grass and people hurrying past him, continuing their daily lives, made the realization more awful.

Section Two had been hit, not by a random meteor, but by the tremendous killing force of a modern antisatellite missile.